I've come up with a backing for 'One More' - more complex and dancable than the initial demo. Unfortunately the new backing works best as slow evolving acid/industrial house, which doesn't really fit with the song. Looks like I've got a promising song without a backing, and a promising backing without a song.
Nevermind, it's all useful.
-----
Here is a list of songs I've written or been involved in up till now. This list goes back to about 1995. There are maybe a dozen that I wrote in previous years and have since been lost.
SONGFIGHT:
Elvis in Space
Gallows Hill
Goodbye Monster
Half a Stone
Jimmy Hat (cutup of Ginsberg's Howl)
Let It Be (Sub: Song for N, aka Forever)
Man Speaking German (sub: Ein Libeslied)
Motor Psycho (as Down With Ginger)
New Sex (sub: Fornication in Church)
Nothing Less Than Everything
Run Faster (sub: Zen Wisdom)
The Puppet's Dream
Under the Wagon
SONGFIGHT COLLABORATIONS:
12 Monkeys (written by Kamakura)
Dark All Day (written by TV's Kyle)
In the Gutter (written Liechty)
Piece of My Heat (aka Zero to Phantom, with Andy Balham, written by me)
Systematic Panic (written by Kamakura)
Talk About Your Feelings (written by Poor June)
Texas (with Kamakura, written by me)
The K Twins:
Does She
Friend
Have You Ever
One More
OTHER:
All White in the Whiteness
Chemeleon Man
Dealer Man
Heretic
Midnight / Midnokto
My Computer's Found God
Pride (written by Jon Gilbert Leavitt)
Red Hot
Ring of Steel
Riverrun (Part 1)
Riverrun (Part 2)
The Man (aka The One)
Videodrome
Video Sex Bomb
Most of these could benefit from being rerecorded.
Me = Mess
Strict Machines got knocked out in the first round, unsurprisingly losing to two bands with much more commercial sounds. No one seems upset about it.
-----
I have an impulse to write a song, even though there's nothing I especially want to write about.
-----
Reason 3.0 is in the shops. The new 'Mastering Suite' looks suitably amazing and plugs one of the two big gaps in Reason's abilities. The other one being sampling for vocals.
Oh, and the faders are now automatable - a strange omission from earlier versions. There is still no VST support, which does make sense within the Reason philosophy, but is still a little annoying.
The Equaliser, Stereo Imager, Compressor and Maximiser look up to the usual high standards. Obviously there are other things it would be nice to have - an exciter, a multiple band phaser, a reverse delay unit. But some of these should be constructable using the new Combinator.
Whenever I think I've reached the edge of Reason (so to speak), I find some new application for one of the modules, or there's a new version out.
-----
EDIT: Just done it again. Discovered the advanced delay unit can be configured to reverse in a dropdown unit. How could I have missed that? Doh.
-----
I managed a grand total of seven minutes on the exercise bike today. Plenty of sweat, lots of laboured breathing and high tempo heart thumping, just not much good.
My cholesterol and blood sugar are on the high side of normal, and I'm overweight without being actually obese. So it feels like I should able to manage climbing stairs without needing ten minutes to recover.
Alright. If it's going to take a slightly crash diet and a more definite routine, that's what will have to happen. There's about six weeks till the Marxism2005 conference - aim to lose two stone and climb stairs without difficulty by then.
-----
I have an impulse to write a song, even though there's nothing I especially want to write about.
-----
Reason 3.0 is in the shops. The new 'Mastering Suite' looks suitably amazing and plugs one of the two big gaps in Reason's abilities. The other one being sampling for vocals.
Oh, and the faders are now automatable - a strange omission from earlier versions. There is still no VST support, which does make sense within the Reason philosophy, but is still a little annoying.
The Equaliser, Stereo Imager, Compressor and Maximiser look up to the usual high standards. Obviously there are other things it would be nice to have - an exciter, a multiple band phaser, a reverse delay unit. But some of these should be constructable using the new Combinator.
Whenever I think I've reached the edge of Reason (so to speak), I find some new application for one of the modules, or there's a new version out.
-----
EDIT: Just done it again. Discovered the advanced delay unit can be configured to reverse in a dropdown unit. How could I have missed that? Doh.
-----
I managed a grand total of seven minutes on the exercise bike today. Plenty of sweat, lots of laboured breathing and high tempo heart thumping, just not much good.
My cholesterol and blood sugar are on the high side of normal, and I'm overweight without being actually obese. So it feels like I should able to manage climbing stairs without needing ten minutes to recover.
Alright. If it's going to take a slightly crash diet and a more definite routine, that's what will have to happen. There's about six weeks till the Marxism2005 conference - aim to lose two stone and climb stairs without difficulty by then.
Born under a blundering star
I was born in the Chinese Year of the Pig: Jan 27,1971 - Feb 14,1972. Hmmm.
According to this site, the following describes me:
If you were born during the Chinese sign of the Pig, you will make a great pal. Pigs are everything you would want in a friend: kind hearted and easy going, they forgive easily and don't bear grudges. They prefer to be generous and have sunny natures, preferring to be calm and cheerful.
People born under this sign work hard to secure their own comfort. Although not very ambitious, they can be successful because they prefer to do a job well. They accept advice so tasks are usually accomplished without difficulty.
Pigs enjoy their food and have healthy appetites.
This is a lucky sign and good things often happen to the happy pig.
Oh well. I think I can live with that. Oink oink.
According to this site, the following describes me:
If you were born during the Chinese sign of the Pig, you will make a great pal. Pigs are everything you would want in a friend: kind hearted and easy going, they forgive easily and don't bear grudges. They prefer to be generous and have sunny natures, preferring to be calm and cheerful.
People born under this sign work hard to secure their own comfort. Although not very ambitious, they can be successful because they prefer to do a job well. They accept advice so tasks are usually accomplished without difficulty.
Pigs enjoy their food and have healthy appetites.
This is a lucky sign and good things often happen to the happy pig.
Oh well. I think I can live with that. Oink oink.
The usual, only better
I'm feeling a lot better today. As though some problem had been solved.
I'm working on a 'full' version of Does She, though at the moment it looks like an extended mix of the demo. No real problem if that's what it turns out to be. The track feels like a B-Side to me (or 'bonus track' for those who were teenagers after CDs became common).
The Open University have for some reason squeezed Geology and Astronomy into a single integrated unit. So I'm reading about rocks and stars at the moment.
Plan to read at least one section tonight, and as a reward there's an old Dr Who adventure - Warrior's Gate - waiting on a DVDRW.
Oh joy of joys. Simon M's computer is finally finished and ready. Well, ready for me to spend an afternoon installing his internet connection and printer software.
I'm working on a 'full' version of Does She, though at the moment it looks like an extended mix of the demo. No real problem if that's what it turns out to be. The track feels like a B-Side to me (or 'bonus track' for those who were teenagers after CDs became common).
The Open University have for some reason squeezed Geology and Astronomy into a single integrated unit. So I'm reading about rocks and stars at the moment.
Plan to read at least one section tonight, and as a reward there's an old Dr Who adventure - Warrior's Gate - waiting on a DVDRW.
Oh joy of joys. Simon M's computer is finally finished and ready. Well, ready for me to spend an afternoon installing his internet connection and printer software.
Where am I? How did I get here?
Just finished IRCing with Nick. I made a bit of a twit of myself, letting forward a stream of emotion that he shouldn't have to deal with. Seeing as I'm still feeling them, here they are:
I'm pretty good at whatever I do. Because I don't start a project unless I'm fairly sure I can make a good job of it, and I can be a perfectionist. I have a feeling for machines, and ideas.
The other side of this is that I've led a sheltered life - courtesy of overprotective parents and the fear of strangers they instilled in me - and have no real emotional maturity.
I existed quite happily for three decades being passionate about all sorts of subjects, without much human contact. You don't need human contact if your company is a pile of books and a procession of computers. Companionship comes from similar people, and sex comes from an endless supply of shadows in parks.
Then, in the space of a year, I meet two people who somehow touch me in ways I can't deal with. I fell headlong in love with D before I'd even met him face to face, and I had no emotional tools to control the fall. Thanks to his kindness and support (which of course were partly what made me fall for him in the first place) I was able to climb out of that particular hole.
You can call it a crush, or an infatuation, or puppy love, or even the real thing. I don't know and it doesn't matter. The important thing is I was completely unprepared to the strength of feeling, and completely unable to cope.
That strength of feeling leaves marks that don't fade. Though I can say now that I'm not in love with D, the fact that I was makes his friendship...different. Special, more intense, less casual, and more trusting.
Well, after I've mostly got over D, I meet H. We spent more than ten hours together on that first day, and the spark was there. He was intelligent, gentle, and actually quite vulnurable. Just like D - they even looked somewhat alike.
I wasn't a complete idiot. Having recently given my heart away to someone who had no space for it, I hesitated to do so again. Especially as he was in the same position - still feeling the aftershocks of an intense but doomed relationship.
So we didn't rush into love. we circled around it, and several times decided not to dive in. We just sort of drifted towards it anyway.
One reason we we cautious is that next year we will probably not be in the same part of the country. Long distance relationships are more trouble than either of us needs, and relocating for the sake of one relationship that is not garrunteed is not a good gamble.
So that's where I am now. The story isn't over, and only some of the issues are resolved. Before tonight, I hadn't cried about D for months. But an hour ago, for some reason, the memories all came back.
My devotion to D was childish as well as hopeless. I am no longer quite so much of a child, and probably no longer capable of feeling the same way again. But if the fears and hopes of childhood become background to those of the adult, then the same is true of a child's love.
Even if that particular child was 32 years old.
-----
I feel much better now.
I'm meeting up with Nick on Saturday 9th of July, in the middle of the Marxism2005 conference. He's still interested in The K Twins project, so at some point soon we can make our stage debut, and then a studio album.
I'm pretty good at whatever I do. Because I don't start a project unless I'm fairly sure I can make a good job of it, and I can be a perfectionist. I have a feeling for machines, and ideas.
The other side of this is that I've led a sheltered life - courtesy of overprotective parents and the fear of strangers they instilled in me - and have no real emotional maturity.
I existed quite happily for three decades being passionate about all sorts of subjects, without much human contact. You don't need human contact if your company is a pile of books and a procession of computers. Companionship comes from similar people, and sex comes from an endless supply of shadows in parks.
Then, in the space of a year, I meet two people who somehow touch me in ways I can't deal with. I fell headlong in love with D before I'd even met him face to face, and I had no emotional tools to control the fall. Thanks to his kindness and support (which of course were partly what made me fall for him in the first place) I was able to climb out of that particular hole.
You can call it a crush, or an infatuation, or puppy love, or even the real thing. I don't know and it doesn't matter. The important thing is I was completely unprepared to the strength of feeling, and completely unable to cope.
That strength of feeling leaves marks that don't fade. Though I can say now that I'm not in love with D, the fact that I was makes his friendship...different. Special, more intense, less casual, and more trusting.
Well, after I've mostly got over D, I meet H. We spent more than ten hours together on that first day, and the spark was there. He was intelligent, gentle, and actually quite vulnurable. Just like D - they even looked somewhat alike.
I wasn't a complete idiot. Having recently given my heart away to someone who had no space for it, I hesitated to do so again. Especially as he was in the same position - still feeling the aftershocks of an intense but doomed relationship.
So we didn't rush into love. we circled around it, and several times decided not to dive in. We just sort of drifted towards it anyway.
One reason we we cautious is that next year we will probably not be in the same part of the country. Long distance relationships are more trouble than either of us needs, and relocating for the sake of one relationship that is not garrunteed is not a good gamble.
So that's where I am now. The story isn't over, and only some of the issues are resolved. Before tonight, I hadn't cried about D for months. But an hour ago, for some reason, the memories all came back.
My devotion to D was childish as well as hopeless. I am no longer quite so much of a child, and probably no longer capable of feeling the same way again. But if the fears and hopes of childhood become background to those of the adult, then the same is true of a child's love.
Even if that particular child was 32 years old.
-----
I feel much better now.
I'm meeting up with Nick on Saturday 9th of July, in the middle of the Marxism2005 conference. He's still interested in The K Twins project, so at some point soon we can make our stage debut, and then a studio album.
Backwards
I won a songfight. With a song I wasn't going to enter. Bloody hell. 27 people actually voted for little old me.
I once told Nick I'd never win because the SF community was so heavy with musical snobs who think synthesisers aren't real instruments. So, either they've got less snobbish, or I've gone native. Which is more likely? Oh dear.
-----
I've got the DAB system finally up and running again. It's set up to record music shows and documentaries over the next week.
This means most of the radio I hear is at least a week old. Sometimes it's more than a year old. So I sometimes hear the next big thing when it's already been and gone.
-----
As a teenager, all I wanted to do was study the world, read books, and occasionally have sex with strange men. Now I'm in my thirties, all I want to do is be with my friends, make and hear music...erm, and occasionally have sex with strange men.
Well what do you expect? From someone who got into politics at 27,, and started listening to 70s prog rock this year. Perhaps I'll start wanting to be a steam train driver when I'm 40.
I once told Nick I'd never win because the SF community was so heavy with musical snobs who think synthesisers aren't real instruments. So, either they've got less snobbish, or I've gone native. Which is more likely? Oh dear.
-----
I've got the DAB system finally up and running again. It's set up to record music shows and documentaries over the next week.
This means most of the radio I hear is at least a week old. Sometimes it's more than a year old. So I sometimes hear the next big thing when it's already been and gone.
-----
As a teenager, all I wanted to do was study the world, read books, and occasionally have sex with strange men. Now I'm in my thirties, all I want to do is be with my friends, make and hear music...erm, and occasionally have sex with strange men.
Well what do you expect? From someone who got into politics at 27,, and started listening to 70s prog rock this year. Perhaps I'll start wanting to be a steam train driver when I'm 40.
R.E.S.P.E.C...Tierd
On the plus side, I spent most of today in a car with John M. As ever, a fascinating man - probably the clearest thinker I know.
On the minus side, I spent most of the day in hot car, or pushing electoral junk mail through letterboxes. And in the evening chaired a seminar with...the same people I'd spent the day with.
So, having just got home, my head rings with interesting political discusssions, crowded out by the needs for food and sleep. And mindless TV.
-----
Oh god. Stupid forms to fill out, and difficult books to read. Both overdue.
On the minus side, I spent most of the day in hot car, or pushing electoral junk mail through letterboxes. And in the evening chaired a seminar with...the same people I'd spent the day with.
So, having just got home, my head rings with interesting political discusssions, crowded out by the needs for food and sleep. And mindless TV.
-----
Oh god. Stupid forms to fill out, and difficult books to read. Both overdue.
"Space, is big"
I always feel like this after a night out with H. Happy and uplifted at what we have, but regretful that we can't have more.
In the event we didn't go to see the depressing film about nazi war criminals. Instead we sat in a the Old Vic, discussing the history of dog breeding, legends involving damsels in distress, and past boyfriends.
We never seem to hug until we're saying goodbye. And when we hug, we don't want to say goodbye. We just want to go on hugging.
Next week...The Bloody Awful Hitch Hiker's Guide To The Galaxy Movie. With Stephen Fry as the (probably camp) book.
-----
In some insane moment of weakness, I agreed to do some more electioneering in Hove again on Sunday. I will therefore probably be awakened (again) by a telephone call to that effect.
And then there's the forum in the evening. So, a day of seeing my comrades, followed by an evening of seeing the same comrades.
Must get some sleep.
In the event we didn't go to see the depressing film about nazi war criminals. Instead we sat in a the Old Vic, discussing the history of dog breeding, legends involving damsels in distress, and past boyfriends.
We never seem to hug until we're saying goodbye. And when we hug, we don't want to say goodbye. We just want to go on hugging.
Next week...The Bloody Awful Hitch Hiker's Guide To The Galaxy Movie. With Stephen Fry as the (probably camp) book.
-----
In some insane moment of weakness, I agreed to do some more electioneering in Hove again on Sunday. I will therefore probably be awakened (again) by a telephone call to that effect.
And then there's the forum in the evening. So, a day of seeing my comrades, followed by an evening of seeing the same comrades.
Must get some sleep.
Headlines to deadlines
Big headline in today's local rag: SEX SCARE. Below a half page picture of a football manager.
The byline explains that one in eight women 'may' have an STD. And the picture relates to another story. It would save time if the headline every day was ASYLUM PORN CELEBRITY PROBE DRUG TERROR SHOCK, accompanied by a random picture.
It should be possible to specify a tabloid story in BNF, and write a chomsky grammar to generate them on demand. Another little project to try when all the other little projects are done.
-----
Arranged a night out with H tomorrow - probably involving a depressing film about nazi war criminals called 'Downfall'. Just what I need after a stageplay about concentration camps.
-----
I still haven't filled out the GTTR application form yet. Still can't think of a few (moderately truthful) paragraphs which would convine a besuited jarhead I'd make a good teacher.
----
I may have seemed a bit predatory about Brin, but I wasn't being serious. It's just that, at age 19 he reminds me so much of me when I was that age. Mistrustful of authority, worried about getting 'old' (being nearly 20), fascinated by the entire universe and everything in it, and faintly resentful that there's only one lifetime to see it.
Perhaps we all get to see ourselves as others see us, but 14 years after the fact.
-----
I spent this evening with the cast of the play, helping them agonize over details of their performance, and slag off the director. As is traditional.
It's now nearly 2300, and I don't think Nick will make IRC tonight. I'll leave the room open for a while, read some James Burke (that's James 'Connections' Burke, not James Lee Burke) and probably doze off as the computer automatically captures Event Horizon on BBC1, my phone recharges, and all my deadlines get one more day overdue.
The byline explains that one in eight women 'may' have an STD. And the picture relates to another story. It would save time if the headline every day was ASYLUM PORN CELEBRITY PROBE DRUG TERROR SHOCK, accompanied by a random picture.
It should be possible to specify a tabloid story in BNF, and write a chomsky grammar to generate them on demand. Another little project to try when all the other little projects are done.
-----
Arranged a night out with H tomorrow - probably involving a depressing film about nazi war criminals called 'Downfall'. Just what I need after a stageplay about concentration camps.
-----
I still haven't filled out the GTTR application form yet. Still can't think of a few (moderately truthful) paragraphs which would convine a besuited jarhead I'd make a good teacher.
----
I may have seemed a bit predatory about Brin, but I wasn't being serious. It's just that, at age 19 he reminds me so much of me when I was that age. Mistrustful of authority, worried about getting 'old' (being nearly 20), fascinated by the entire universe and everything in it, and faintly resentful that there's only one lifetime to see it.
Perhaps we all get to see ourselves as others see us, but 14 years after the fact.
-----
I spent this evening with the cast of the play, helping them agonize over details of their performance, and slag off the director. As is traditional.
It's now nearly 2300, and I don't think Nick will make IRC tonight. I'll leave the room open for a while, read some James Burke (that's James 'Connections' Burke, not James Lee Burke) and probably doze off as the computer automatically captures Event Horizon on BBC1, my phone recharges, and all my deadlines get one more day overdue.
A Weakness for Paleontologists
Tonight's SWP organisational meeting was uneventful, except for a new member. Brin, 19, student of paleontology and biology, politically active and astute. And he's got lovely hair too.
No, he's happily straight and we'd make lousy lovers and the contents of his head is far more interesting than the contents of his baggy jeans.
We sat in the pub with John M and Joe R, outlining marxist views on epistemology, scientific method, cultural influence on metaphors in cosmology, the psychology of religion and a whole load of related stuff that I enjoyed immensely.
Then Brin and I walked around Portsmouth for nearly two hours discussing it more. I think I overwhelmed him slightly by having read more about his specialism than he had - I got a bit carried away. Bad of me.
But he's a really passionate broad ranging intellectual, and it was a wonderful stimulating night out like I haven't had since...well, since meeting H. Who, if I haven't mentioned it, is in the same field.
Okay, short version: I'm happy to have met a kindred spirit.
-----
Watched 'The Face of Evil' - adventure of the old Doctor Who - while eating an unpleasantly large quantity of chocolate. I feel slightly sick.
With luck, Nick will be on IRC tonight. It's been a long while. Looking forward to it.
No, he's happily straight and we'd make lousy lovers and the contents of his head is far more interesting than the contents of his baggy jeans.
We sat in the pub with John M and Joe R, outlining marxist views on epistemology, scientific method, cultural influence on metaphors in cosmology, the psychology of religion and a whole load of related stuff that I enjoyed immensely.
Then Brin and I walked around Portsmouth for nearly two hours discussing it more. I think I overwhelmed him slightly by having read more about his specialism than he had - I got a bit carried away. Bad of me.
But he's a really passionate broad ranging intellectual, and it was a wonderful stimulating night out like I haven't had since...well, since meeting H. Who, if I haven't mentioned it, is in the same field.
Okay, short version: I'm happy to have met a kindred spirit.
-----
Watched 'The Face of Evil' - adventure of the old Doctor Who - while eating an unpleasantly large quantity of chocolate. I feel slightly sick.
With luck, Nick will be on IRC tonight. It's been a long while. Looking forward to it.
Why indeed
Paul T has found his backup. But has remembered there's some files he forgot to put onto it, so can I find the old hard disk anyway.
Max has seen the footage I edited together, and has decided he wants 40 (that's fourty) copies to disseminate. He'll bear the cost of the videotapes and I'll spend a week copying nonstop onto them.
The showing is on Friday, though I don't know if I'll be able to make it. Not that my presence is necessary - it's just that a free lunch is always welcome.
Signing on today, I was told "It's no wonder you can't find a job - our [search] system is crap." Not all civil servants are like Sir Humphrey Appleby.
I've got myself £20 of recording accessories. So no more singing into socks tied together with elastic bands.
Max has seen the footage I edited together, and has decided he wants 40 (that's fourty) copies to disseminate. He'll bear the cost of the videotapes and I'll spend a week copying nonstop onto them.
The showing is on Friday, though I don't know if I'll be able to make it. Not that my presence is necessary - it's just that a free lunch is always welcome.
Signing on today, I was told "It's no wonder you can't find a job - our [search] system is crap." Not all civil servants are like Sir Humphrey Appleby.
I've got myself £20 of recording accessories. So no more singing into socks tied together with elastic bands.
Why do I bother?
I recorded Strict Machines playing some acoustic tracks, through my £100+ external soundcard and £25 microphones. And then found they recorded better through the laptop's onboard microphone.
That USB sound box, complete with mysteriously mono recording capabilities, random dropouts, and low signal level is going on Ebay soon. I'm sure some game player can find a use for it.
Then they play another few songs, decide they don't want the takes, before thinking an hour later maybe they did. So why had I thrown away their takes. Gah.
Following a late night surge of energy, they play five songs straight through without a hitch. And ask for eleven CDs of it for their friends. Okay, I'll burn eleven CDRs tomorrow.
-----
Paul T backed up his files - including the two novels he's written - just before I upgraded his computer. I replaced his 2GB hard drive with a new 6GB one.
Now he can't find the backups he made, and I don't know which 2GB hard drive is his.
-----
Max and his theatre company expect to watch themselves on video tomorrow afternoon (this afternoon). The cleaned up audio has so many artifacts it's unlistenable, so I have to find a different way to improve the audio. And then transfer the result to VHS.
-----
Oh yes, and John M called to say his computer wasn't working. Unfortunately halfway through his description, his phone stopped working too.
-----
Well, at least I know what tonight holds. Cleaning up video sound, making a videotape, plugging in small hard disks, and wondering I became 'old reliable'.
You are my future self. Perhaps you know what I've been doing wrong.
That USB sound box, complete with mysteriously mono recording capabilities, random dropouts, and low signal level is going on Ebay soon. I'm sure some game player can find a use for it.
Then they play another few songs, decide they don't want the takes, before thinking an hour later maybe they did. So why had I thrown away their takes. Gah.
Following a late night surge of energy, they play five songs straight through without a hitch. And ask for eleven CDs of it for their friends. Okay, I'll burn eleven CDRs tomorrow.
-----
Paul T backed up his files - including the two novels he's written - just before I upgraded his computer. I replaced his 2GB hard drive with a new 6GB one.
Now he can't find the backups he made, and I don't know which 2GB hard drive is his.
-----
Max and his theatre company expect to watch themselves on video tomorrow afternoon (this afternoon). The cleaned up audio has so many artifacts it's unlistenable, so I have to find a different way to improve the audio. And then transfer the result to VHS.
-----
Oh yes, and John M called to say his computer wasn't working. Unfortunately halfway through his description, his phone stopped working too.
-----
Well, at least I know what tonight holds. Cleaning up video sound, making a videotape, plugging in small hard disks, and wondering I became 'old reliable'.
You are my future self. Perhaps you know what I've been doing wrong.
Sound off, vision a bit off
The footage I shot of The Investigation looks and sounds a lot better than I expected. I'll still have to process the sound - reduce noise and normalise volume.
The cast have arranged to meet, view their performances, and work on anything they don't like, tomorrow at 1pm. So that gives me a deadline for producing a cleaned up VHS. It also gives me a free lunch and a chance to contribute to a project I didn't have time to be part of fully.
They want to produce a four hour audiobook of the play. I could certainly take care of the technical sides of such a project, but the university have sympathetic technicians and students who can do it better.
-----
This evening I'm finishing off the installation of Paul T's computer, hearing the latest songs of Strict Machines...and getting another free lunch.
-----
Before that, read the chapter on Statistics. I've barely studied any statistical methods at all since Stephen Jay Gould's 'Mismeasure of Man' - and that was 15 years ago.
I must have been 18. I can remember it, but I can't imagine it.
The cast have arranged to meet, view their performances, and work on anything they don't like, tomorrow at 1pm. So that gives me a deadline for producing a cleaned up VHS. It also gives me a free lunch and a chance to contribute to a project I didn't have time to be part of fully.
They want to produce a four hour audiobook of the play. I could certainly take care of the technical sides of such a project, but the university have sympathetic technicians and students who can do it better.
-----
This evening I'm finishing off the installation of Paul T's computer, hearing the latest songs of Strict Machines...and getting another free lunch.
-----
Before that, read the chapter on Statistics. I've barely studied any statistical methods at all since Stephen Jay Gould's 'Mismeasure of Man' - and that was 15 years ago.
I must have been 18. I can remember it, but I can't imagine it.
The Pope Must Die
Once again I was woken up by a telephone call. This time it was MS. Masturbating.
Well it was midday, and he has nothing if not a healthy libido. I've never actually experienced phone sex before. But he seemed happy.
What he really called about, though, was to arrange a meet this evening. I said yeah, why not.
-----
Most of the day was spent without internet connection. The problem (as usual) turned out to be a cable not-quite-plugged-in.
Not that I needed to bother - no worthwhile email or songfight board activity.
-----
Oh yes, maths and science. Been reading about probability.
The most likely outcome is the one that can occur in the most ways.
The probability of several independant events occuring is the product of their individual probabilities.
The probability of several mutually exclusive events occuring is the sum of their individual probabilities.
Mendel's Peas. Ratios. Mean, median and Mode. Sample and population. Standard Deviation. X-bar and Mu.
It's quite lucky (so to speak) that I did most of this in GCSE maths.
-----
I've just switched on the news as I was writing that.
My god. Oh my fucking god. I haven't been paying attention to the media speculation about the next pope, and I didn't think the vatican could be so barefaced as to elect Ratzinger as the new pope. A pseudomoderate puppet he could manipulate, yes. A far right, hate filled ideologue representing him, cirtainly.
But this...this is like electing Dick Cheney to replace Bush. Which I suppose could happen.
There ought to be a word for this kind of experience - one of shock but not surprise. A combination of fury at what those people do, with a resignation that this is exactly the kind of thing they always do.
-----
I could have been a priest in that church.
-----
EDIT: MS cancelled. He has to babysit for a friend. You know you're getting old when your friends have children. I suppose you know you've got old when they have grown up children.
So I'm all alone with a maths book and a pad of notepaper. Being lonely with a book doesn't make you much less lonely.
Well it was midday, and he has nothing if not a healthy libido. I've never actually experienced phone sex before. But he seemed happy.
What he really called about, though, was to arrange a meet this evening. I said yeah, why not.
-----
Most of the day was spent without internet connection. The problem (as usual) turned out to be a cable not-quite-plugged-in.
Not that I needed to bother - no worthwhile email or songfight board activity.
-----
Oh yes, maths and science. Been reading about probability.
The most likely outcome is the one that can occur in the most ways.
The probability of several independant events occuring is the product of their individual probabilities.
The probability of several mutually exclusive events occuring is the sum of their individual probabilities.
Mendel's Peas. Ratios. Mean, median and Mode. Sample and population. Standard Deviation. X-bar and Mu.
It's quite lucky (so to speak) that I did most of this in GCSE maths.
-----
I've just switched on the news as I was writing that.
My god. Oh my fucking god. I haven't been paying attention to the media speculation about the next pope, and I didn't think the vatican could be so barefaced as to elect Ratzinger as the new pope. A pseudomoderate puppet he could manipulate, yes. A far right, hate filled ideologue representing him, cirtainly.
But this...this is like electing Dick Cheney to replace Bush. Which I suppose could happen.
There ought to be a word for this kind of experience - one of shock but not surprise. A combination of fury at what those people do, with a resignation that this is exactly the kind of thing they always do.
-----
I could have been a priest in that church.
-----
EDIT: MS cancelled. He has to babysit for a friend. You know you're getting old when your friends have children. I suppose you know you've got old when they have grown up children.
So I'm all alone with a maths book and a pad of notepaper. Being lonely with a book doesn't make you much less lonely.
Investigation/Cover up
A lot of little things happened today, but they're all overshadowed by going to see a play in the evening. A play I was initially in, but couldn't go through with because of time constraints.
The Investigation, by Peter Weiss, is a stageplay composed of edited transcripts from the 1963 Auschwitz war crimes trial. It's about how the holocaust was denied by it's perpetrators, in the face of testimony from survivors.
Now that most of the original nazis are dead, the new wave are again denying the reality of something both irrefutable and unimaginable.
The play is so harrowing because it doesn't shout. It simply reports - what happened at the camp, how barefacedly it was denied, and how a nation simply tried to forget. Using only the words spoken in a courtroom, and recorded by government officials.
H told me it can't happen again because the cultural memory is too strong to let it happen again. For such a careful thinker it's a very nieve thing to say - but a very comforting thing to believe.
Now I have to forget for a few days. So that I can manage my own small life.
The Investigation, by Peter Weiss, is a stageplay composed of edited transcripts from the 1963 Auschwitz war crimes trial. It's about how the holocaust was denied by it's perpetrators, in the face of testimony from survivors.
Now that most of the original nazis are dead, the new wave are again denying the reality of something both irrefutable and unimaginable.
The play is so harrowing because it doesn't shout. It simply reports - what happened at the camp, how barefacedly it was denied, and how a nation simply tried to forget. Using only the words spoken in a courtroom, and recorded by government officials.
H told me it can't happen again because the cultural memory is too strong to let it happen again. For such a careful thinker it's a very nieve thing to say - but a very comforting thing to believe.
Now I have to forget for a few days. So that I can manage my own small life.
The Role of Letterboxes in Progressive Politics
I was woken up this morning by a telephone call reminding me that I was supposed to be electioneering in Hove.
Five minutes later I was munching breakfast (a golden syrup sandwich and bottle of water) in a car, with John W (socialist social worker), Jan (socialist nonworker), Donna S (socialist artworker), and Daisy (Donna's three month old baby).
Two hours spent in one of the more genteel parts of Hove, pushing RESPECT election leaflets through letterboxes. The houses all had names like 'Lavender Cottage', and the streets were full of dogwalkers.
You know you're in Hyacinth-Buckett-Land when you see men walking corgis, and couples in casual slacks washing already shiny cars in driveways big enough for three.
I returned home to find some positive reviews for 'Nothing Less Than Everything', The Andromeda Strain nicely encoded overday in my absence, and no new emails. I've tried to arrange IRC chat times with Nick, but he's being silent at the moment - probably enormously busy. As I should be, in fact.
Right. If the next few entries mention topics in maths and/or science, you'll know I've been doing my studying.
Five minutes later I was munching breakfast (a golden syrup sandwich and bottle of water) in a car, with John W (socialist social worker), Jan (socialist nonworker), Donna S (socialist artworker), and Daisy (Donna's three month old baby).
Two hours spent in one of the more genteel parts of Hove, pushing RESPECT election leaflets through letterboxes. The houses all had names like 'Lavender Cottage', and the streets were full of dogwalkers.
You know you're in Hyacinth-Buckett-Land when you see men walking corgis, and couples in casual slacks washing already shiny cars in driveways big enough for three.
I returned home to find some positive reviews for 'Nothing Less Than Everything', The Andromeda Strain nicely encoded overday in my absence, and no new emails. I've tried to arrange IRC chat times with Nick, but he's being silent at the moment - probably enormously busy. As I should be, in fact.
Right. If the next few entries mention topics in maths and/or science, you'll know I've been doing my studying.
Oh, you know, the usual
The replacement Teacher Training submission forms have finally arrived, and just as soon as I can think of something sincere sounding to write in the 'Why I Want To Be A Teacher' box, I'll send it off.
-----
There is a 'reading' - as opposed to full perfomance - of The Investigation in the D-Day Museum on Monday. As usual with all events organised by the left, it isn't very organised. Publicity is late and limited to say the least. I'll probably video the event because - to be honest for a moment - the camcorder they have is rubbish, and this may turn out to be the only performance the company puts on.
-----
It is entirely possible that everyone I know either hates the new Doctor Who, or is supremely apathetic towards it. Well I thought tonight's episode (Aliens of London, Part 1) was childish, silly, cheap, cliched and wonderful fun.
-----
An evening spent with H, nursing alchoholic beverages and not quite seeing eye to eye on all matters political and philosophical. We were both rather tierd - he from a day out touring the galleries of Bournmouth, me just because I'm tierd all the time.
Oh, we did agree that the Hitch-Hiker movie will almost cirtainly be dire.
Tea back at his place. It felt strange because I really like being with him, but conversation is sometimes difficult. We can talk honestly about pretty much anything, including how we feel, without worrying about offending each other. It's just that...we're right for each other, and completely wrong.
I said one thing which he latched onto, and seemed impressed by. "Sometimes you meet someone and think, 'You are the brother I should have had.'"
-----
I am, as usual, behind on academic work. All the other little projects - music, DSP, C++, DAB and computer building - all go on hold for at least one week so I can catch up.
-----
There is a 'reading' - as opposed to full perfomance - of The Investigation in the D-Day Museum on Monday. As usual with all events organised by the left, it isn't very organised. Publicity is late and limited to say the least. I'll probably video the event because - to be honest for a moment - the camcorder they have is rubbish, and this may turn out to be the only performance the company puts on.
-----
It is entirely possible that everyone I know either hates the new Doctor Who, or is supremely apathetic towards it. Well I thought tonight's episode (Aliens of London, Part 1) was childish, silly, cheap, cliched and wonderful fun.
-----
An evening spent with H, nursing alchoholic beverages and not quite seeing eye to eye on all matters political and philosophical. We were both rather tierd - he from a day out touring the galleries of Bournmouth, me just because I'm tierd all the time.
Oh, we did agree that the Hitch-Hiker movie will almost cirtainly be dire.
Tea back at his place. It felt strange because I really like being with him, but conversation is sometimes difficult. We can talk honestly about pretty much anything, including how we feel, without worrying about offending each other. It's just that...we're right for each other, and completely wrong.
I said one thing which he latched onto, and seemed impressed by. "Sometimes you meet someone and think, 'You are the brother I should have had.'"
-----
I am, as usual, behind on academic work. All the other little projects - music, DSP, C++, DAB and computer building - all go on hold for at least one week so I can catch up.
I don't really exist
Am I invisible or something? Yesterday the OU finance department had all my details and a standing order, Today I contact them again and all they know is I'm on a course and haven't paid them anything.
HSBC processed my standing order, and now (after half an hour on the phone to India) find they have no record of it.
The GTTR lost my application form, and I've just asked for the second time for another one.
Jesus christ. After decades of disappearing from databases I've got used to it. Occasionally it's even been useful, as when a book club forgot I existed.
I had to tell the local council seven times over five years about a change of address, and the university three times.
I've got used to it, but it still makes me want to scream down the phone that the most basic level of competence seems beyond the largest corporations.
Actually, the only organisation who've never given me any paperwork trouble is the one with the most chaotic finances and the most undermanning. And that's the bloody Socialist Workers.
-----
Sigh. I recorded 'Everything' through a pair of my mother's socks over the microphones. She's greatly amused that I sing into her footwear. Which fit over the mics like a pair of white fluffy condoms, and are fixed to a camera tripod with elastic bands.
There's the old trick of slinging a pair of tights over a wire coathanger. I'm not sure whether that's more absurd than my system.
While recording the debut EP of Strict Machines (who seem to have dropped their definite article), I was sound recordist, microphone stand, and coathanger prop. So when we did a take, I pressed 'Record', and rushed to hold the mic and coathanger in front of Anna's mouth. She provided the tights.
HSBC processed my standing order, and now (after half an hour on the phone to India) find they have no record of it.
The GTTR lost my application form, and I've just asked for the second time for another one.
Jesus christ. After decades of disappearing from databases I've got used to it. Occasionally it's even been useful, as when a book club forgot I existed.
I had to tell the local council seven times over five years about a change of address, and the university three times.
I've got used to it, but it still makes me want to scream down the phone that the most basic level of competence seems beyond the largest corporations.
Actually, the only organisation who've never given me any paperwork trouble is the one with the most chaotic finances and the most undermanning. And that's the bloody Socialist Workers.
-----
Sigh. I recorded 'Everything' through a pair of my mother's socks over the microphones. She's greatly amused that I sing into her footwear. Which fit over the mics like a pair of white fluffy condoms, and are fixed to a camera tripod with elastic bands.
There's the old trick of slinging a pair of tights over a wire coathanger. I'm not sure whether that's more absurd than my system.
While recording the debut EP of Strict Machines (who seem to have dropped their definite article), I was sound recordist, microphone stand, and coathanger prop. So when we did a take, I pressed 'Record', and rushed to hold the mic and coathanger in front of Anna's mouth. She provided the tights.
Essay: Sex and Guns
When we think about sexuality, we tend to think in terms of it's goals, it's results, it's effects and ramifications, it's ends and products.
I think this is misguided. I think this is the error sometimes called 'functionalism'. To show why, imagine thinking about guns and firepower in the same as we think about sex and sexuality.
Sexual desire occasionally results in the birth of a baby. Therefore we reason that sexual desire has a nature designed to bring about this result. But this is to confuse a description of the effect with a description of the cause. In this case, a physiological description of a newborn baby would tell us nothing about the emotions which infrequently lead to procreation.
The mechanical operation of a pistol occasionally brings about the death of a person. This tells us about one of the effects that a gun is capable of producing, but it doesn't tell us anything about the explosive nature of gunpowder, the hardness of bullets, or the engineering of boreholes. In short, an examination of a corpse won't tell us much about what a gun looks like.
Sexual desire is 'short circuited' for a few hours by an orgasm, so we think the purpose of sexual desire is to produce an orgasm.
But do we reason that the purpose of firing a gun is to empty the cylinder? That the motive behind using a gun is to render the gun incapable of further functioning as a gun?
Emptying the gun temporarily turns in into something powerless, and emptying the testicles temporarily removes sexual energy.
Because sexuality ends for a while with orgasm, we think that the point of sexuality is orgasm. But this is like saying the point of a train journey is to stop at the terminus, or the purpose of living is to die.
Sexuality creates emotional bonds, and the gun changes the power structure of a society.
The bonds and the change are real, but to describe the ways that a knot can be tied is not to describe the machine that makes the rope.
No, a description of how a gun operates - the kinetic energy of the hammer, the exothermic reaction of gunpowder, the screwthread of a barrel - is mechanical, not social. And likewise a description of human sexual impulse is not to be found in disections of monogamous frienships, prepackaged pornography, peristaltic ejaculation, embryo fertilisation, or songs about love.
I think this is misguided. I think this is the error sometimes called 'functionalism'. To show why, imagine thinking about guns and firepower in the same as we think about sex and sexuality.
Sexual desire occasionally results in the birth of a baby. Therefore we reason that sexual desire has a nature designed to bring about this result. But this is to confuse a description of the effect with a description of the cause. In this case, a physiological description of a newborn baby would tell us nothing about the emotions which infrequently lead to procreation.
The mechanical operation of a pistol occasionally brings about the death of a person. This tells us about one of the effects that a gun is capable of producing, but it doesn't tell us anything about the explosive nature of gunpowder, the hardness of bullets, or the engineering of boreholes. In short, an examination of a corpse won't tell us much about what a gun looks like.
Sexual desire is 'short circuited' for a few hours by an orgasm, so we think the purpose of sexual desire is to produce an orgasm.
But do we reason that the purpose of firing a gun is to empty the cylinder? That the motive behind using a gun is to render the gun incapable of further functioning as a gun?
Emptying the gun temporarily turns in into something powerless, and emptying the testicles temporarily removes sexual energy.
Because sexuality ends for a while with orgasm, we think that the point of sexuality is orgasm. But this is like saying the point of a train journey is to stop at the terminus, or the purpose of living is to die.
Sexuality creates emotional bonds, and the gun changes the power structure of a society.
The bonds and the change are real, but to describe the ways that a knot can be tied is not to describe the machine that makes the rope.
No, a description of how a gun operates - the kinetic energy of the hammer, the exothermic reaction of gunpowder, the screwthread of a barrel - is mechanical, not social. And likewise a description of human sexual impulse is not to be found in disections of monogamous frienships, prepackaged pornography, peristaltic ejaculation, embryo fertilisation, or songs about love.
Tell us about yourself
I was born to solve problems. To make things work, to fix what's broken, and get the world functioning smoothly.
And like everyone else born with the technician's gene, I tend to treat other people as problems to be solved, or at least riddles to be understood. Which means when I somehow become 'involved' with someone - as a friend or lover, mentor or student - I can understand the dynamics of the relationship just fine. I just can't cope with them.
And also like everyone else of my strange tribe, I'm no good whatsoever at solving my own problems. I fall in love with a wonderful man, and my emotions collapse in a wriggling heap on the floor. They won't listen to reason, they won't calm down, and they won't resolve themselves into a neat, stable, pleasant relationship.
It's also just bloody typical that this happens for the first time in my 30s, instead of my teens. Still, at least the second time it happens, I have the wit to let the genie out of the bottle slowly, so there's time for us both to find out whether it's a good idea. Well, the wit to try, anyway.
-----
This train of thought started when I noticed how intense and irritable I was when frustrated in recording a song, and how cheerful and 'released' I felt when it was completed.
Nothing Less Than Everything is recorded and submitted to the fightmaster, and I'm going to take time off songfighting to concentrate on other things. Like finding a viable job, studying for the OU, getting into teacher training, fixing up the remaining computers in the pile, reading the big stack of books on my 'to read' list, learning some more C++ and DSP, and doing some proper exercise. And seeing H.
Oh yes, and maybe sorting out all those emotions that I understand, but can't deal with.
And like everyone else born with the technician's gene, I tend to treat other people as problems to be solved, or at least riddles to be understood. Which means when I somehow become 'involved' with someone - as a friend or lover, mentor or student - I can understand the dynamics of the relationship just fine. I just can't cope with them.
And also like everyone else of my strange tribe, I'm no good whatsoever at solving my own problems. I fall in love with a wonderful man, and my emotions collapse in a wriggling heap on the floor. They won't listen to reason, they won't calm down, and they won't resolve themselves into a neat, stable, pleasant relationship.
It's also just bloody typical that this happens for the first time in my 30s, instead of my teens. Still, at least the second time it happens, I have the wit to let the genie out of the bottle slowly, so there's time for us both to find out whether it's a good idea. Well, the wit to try, anyway.
-----
This train of thought started when I noticed how intense and irritable I was when frustrated in recording a song, and how cheerful and 'released' I felt when it was completed.
Nothing Less Than Everything is recorded and submitted to the fightmaster, and I'm going to take time off songfighting to concentrate on other things. Like finding a viable job, studying for the OU, getting into teacher training, fixing up the remaining computers in the pile, reading the big stack of books on my 'to read' list, learning some more C++ and DSP, and doing some proper exercise. And seeing H.
Oh yes, and maybe sorting out all those emotions that I understand, but can't deal with.
Croak
Typical. I find a way to make recorded vocal sound better, and next day I can barely sing at all. I sound like a cat with emphasema - weedy and out of tune. Gah!
It wouldn't matter so much if I didn't think the backing and lyrics were pretty good.
Perhaps it's not surprising, as a flight of stairs leaves me out of breath. I'm hoping this is just a result of me being even more out of condition than I thought. If it isn't, well, we'll see.
Plan of action. Wait an hour or so and try again. Try to get some more exercise for several weeks. If that doesn't help at all, see a doctor.
-----
My father is getting delusions of grandeur - he thinks he's a pillar of the community, based on his involvement with neighbourhood watch and local social orgainisations.
He's proudly telling everyone of how he threatened a woman with legal action if she parked in 'his' space. And now he's bothering the council about the presence of 'undesirables' and 'nutters' in 'his' road.
Idiot man.
-----
EDIT: Three hours later, trying to record vocals, and it just isn't working. God this is frustrating.
If I were just a terrible musician, lousy songwriter, and awful vocalist, I could give up music with a clear conscionce and only small regret.
But I'm an okay musician, reasonable songwriter, and usually an adaquate vocalist. Except that today I can't sing.
I have no trouble with walking away from what I could never be good at. But it's just unbearable to walk away from what I could do well, but can't.
Try again. For another half hour at least. If it won't work today, and fails tomorrow, then I'll give up on this track.
It wouldn't matter so much if I didn't think the backing and lyrics were pretty good.
Perhaps it's not surprising, as a flight of stairs leaves me out of breath. I'm hoping this is just a result of me being even more out of condition than I thought. If it isn't, well, we'll see.
Plan of action. Wait an hour or so and try again. Try to get some more exercise for several weeks. If that doesn't help at all, see a doctor.
-----
My father is getting delusions of grandeur - he thinks he's a pillar of the community, based on his involvement with neighbourhood watch and local social orgainisations.
He's proudly telling everyone of how he threatened a woman with legal action if she parked in 'his' space. And now he's bothering the council about the presence of 'undesirables' and 'nutters' in 'his' road.
Idiot man.
-----
EDIT: Three hours later, trying to record vocals, and it just isn't working. God this is frustrating.
If I were just a terrible musician, lousy songwriter, and awful vocalist, I could give up music with a clear conscionce and only small regret.
But I'm an okay musician, reasonable songwriter, and usually an adaquate vocalist. Except that today I can't sing.
I have no trouble with walking away from what I could never be good at. But it's just unbearable to walk away from what I could do well, but can't.
Try again. For another half hour at least. If it won't work today, and fails tomorrow, then I'll give up on this track.
A song about 'Everything'
On Saturday I wrote a song inspired by Massive Attack's Teardrop. On Sunday I wrote a backing track to go with it...and hated it. On Monday I wrote another one based around a synth patch I'd come up with but didn't use on Sunday. I hated the second track too. Today (Tuesday) I wrote a third backing based around a synth patch I came up with accidentally while working on Monday's track.
It's almost finished and I like it. It sounds an early New Order B-side - grungy synths, dominant beat, and too much reverb on effects. I haven't recorded the vocals yet - and they're going to be difficult. But I'm messing around with multiband compressors, so I can hopefully get a clear vocal over the lo-fi backing.
This bit of production - EQ and compression - is the bit I need to get a lot better at. It's also the trickiest. These are preliminary settings for vocal multiband comprssion:
0Hz-200Hz - reduce by 6dB
201-1kHz - unchanged
1kHz-5kHz - increase by 3dB
5kHz-10kH - increase by 9dB
10kHz-24kHz - increase by 6dB
I've been using them on Nick's and my vocals for Systematic Panic - they do give a 'light', 'airy' sort of feel to vocals, but sibilants (/s/ and /t/ especially) can be overemphasied.
-----
Oh yes, the lyrics.
VERSE 1:
Make a circle in wet sand
Trace it over with your hand
Are there one or two?
No answer
Say your name a hundred times
Then once more and you will find
Only sound remains
No meaning
CHORUS 1:
Your life is not a waking dream
Your soul is made of flesh and bone
Your eyes reach out and touch the world
Snd see you're not alone
VERSE 2:
Chose one door, choose one of three
Million dollars in your reach
Should you change your mind?
No problem
One was saved and one was damned
Faith is not to understand
Why do you believe?
CHORUS 2:
Your time is not a pointless joke
Your soul is made of hair and skin
Your hands reach out and grasp the world
And hope for truth within
CHORUS 3:
Nothing less than everything
Nothing more that you can hold
Nothing matters anymore
When you're bought and sold
Featuring references to Jaques Derrida's denial of the aristotelian law of identity, the Monty Hall problem of probability inheritance, and Waiting for Godot. Ha!
It's almost finished and I like it. It sounds an early New Order B-side - grungy synths, dominant beat, and too much reverb on effects. I haven't recorded the vocals yet - and they're going to be difficult. But I'm messing around with multiband compressors, so I can hopefully get a clear vocal over the lo-fi backing.
This bit of production - EQ and compression - is the bit I need to get a lot better at. It's also the trickiest. These are preliminary settings for vocal multiband comprssion:
0Hz-200Hz - reduce by 6dB
201-1kHz - unchanged
1kHz-5kHz - increase by 3dB
5kHz-10kH - increase by 9dB
10kHz-24kHz - increase by 6dB
I've been using them on Nick's and my vocals for Systematic Panic - they do give a 'light', 'airy' sort of feel to vocals, but sibilants (/s/ and /t/ especially) can be overemphasied.
-----
Oh yes, the lyrics.
VERSE 1:
Make a circle in wet sand
Trace it over with your hand
Are there one or two?
No answer
Say your name a hundred times
Then once more and you will find
Only sound remains
No meaning
CHORUS 1:
Your life is not a waking dream
Your soul is made of flesh and bone
Your eyes reach out and touch the world
Snd see you're not alone
VERSE 2:
Chose one door, choose one of three
Million dollars in your reach
Should you change your mind?
No problem
One was saved and one was damned
Faith is not to understand
Why do you believe?
CHORUS 2:
Your time is not a pointless joke
Your soul is made of hair and skin
Your hands reach out and grasp the world
And hope for truth within
CHORUS 3:
Nothing less than everything
Nothing more that you can hold
Nothing matters anymore
When you're bought and sold
Featuring references to Jaques Derrida's denial of the aristotelian law of identity, the Monty Hall problem of probability inheritance, and Waiting for Godot. Ha!
De-filed
A good filing system isn't difficult to come up with, and with a bit of forward planning not difficult to implement. To sort out a badly implemented version, though, is another matter. My dear mother, god bless her, has many admirable qualities, but carefulness is not one of them.
It's going to take days (maybe weeks) to sort out her inconsistant version of my system for naming and filing video recordings. Still, if more people were as annoyingly fixated on detail as myself, there would be little need for technicians and problem-solvers like me to make it right.
I've just spent six hours burning new CDRs and recatalogueing old ones. Barely a dent made in the task, but I'm exhausted. So...time for bed. It always seems to be time for bed when I write the day's blog entry.
Set the phone to give me five hours sleep, so I wake up at midday like an art student. And be bright and alert and musical, not remotely like an art student.
It's going to take days (maybe weeks) to sort out her inconsistant version of my system for naming and filing video recordings. Still, if more people were as annoyingly fixated on detail as myself, there would be little need for technicians and problem-solvers like me to make it right.
I've just spent six hours burning new CDRs and recatalogueing old ones. Barely a dent made in the task, but I'm exhausted. So...time for bed. It always seems to be time for bed when I write the day's blog entry.
Set the phone to give me five hours sleep, so I wake up at midday like an art student. And be bright and alert and musical, not remotely like an art student.
Saturday Night Fever
It's Saturday night, and I have a small fever. Well, actually it's Saturday night and Sunday morning, but that's a different film. But seeing as the John Travolta film was shown a few hours ago, and is sitting on my hard disk, and I am a bit ill...yes.
Most of today was spent trying to transfer a VHS recording to DVD for the RESPECT 'Italian Night'. It ought to be simple, but as always, problems crop up - the VHS turns out to be severely degraded so we manage to get hold of another copy, Nero and Roxio both refuse to either compress or divide the MPEG2 file, and the cables to connect the projector to the DVD player go mysteriously missing.
However, with half an hour to spare, the DVD was ready. About 35 people turned up, paid their £10, ate 3 rather good courses and watched the result of my day's labours.
Rome, Open City. Made in 1945, directed by Roberto Rossolini, in Italian and German. Acted and filmed by amateurs, in bad light on a mish-mash of substandard films. Then degraded by time, transferred to videotape and played on my battererd VCR into a capture card.
The result ought to be unwatchable, but the film shone through it's technical imperfections. It's the story of resistors to nazi occupation. The catholic priest who conspires with people who would ordinarily shun, simply because it's the right thing to do, even if it costs his own life. The communist who can't be broken under torture, making his interrogators doubt the superiority of their german blood. And the children, deadly serious freedom fighters in their shorts and torn shirts.
-----
Back to the full colour world of monochrome. Dr Who, Farscape, Open Your Eyes, Cat Ballou, and that John Travolta film encoding overnight. The Henry Ford school of media - you can have any flavour you like, as long as it's saccharine.
I have a song to finish. Tomorrow.
Most of today was spent trying to transfer a VHS recording to DVD for the RESPECT 'Italian Night'. It ought to be simple, but as always, problems crop up - the VHS turns out to be severely degraded so we manage to get hold of another copy, Nero and Roxio both refuse to either compress or divide the MPEG2 file, and the cables to connect the projector to the DVD player go mysteriously missing.
However, with half an hour to spare, the DVD was ready. About 35 people turned up, paid their £10, ate 3 rather good courses and watched the result of my day's labours.
Rome, Open City. Made in 1945, directed by Roberto Rossolini, in Italian and German. Acted and filmed by amateurs, in bad light on a mish-mash of substandard films. Then degraded by time, transferred to videotape and played on my battererd VCR into a capture card.
The result ought to be unwatchable, but the film shone through it's technical imperfections. It's the story of resistors to nazi occupation. The catholic priest who conspires with people who would ordinarily shun, simply because it's the right thing to do, even if it costs his own life. The communist who can't be broken under torture, making his interrogators doubt the superiority of their german blood. And the children, deadly serious freedom fighters in their shorts and torn shirts.
-----
Back to the full colour world of monochrome. Dr Who, Farscape, Open Your Eyes, Cat Ballou, and that John Travolta film encoding overnight. The Henry Ford school of media - you can have any flavour you like, as long as it's saccharine.
I have a song to finish. Tomorrow.
Writing but not sleeping
I came up with some lyrics last night, written more-or-less to the tune of Massive Attack's Teardrop. I'm working on the music, under the working title 'Illusion', trying to keep the Massive Attack feel of minimal instrumentation taking up a lot of space.
I've not been feeling good lately, and spent most of the day with stomach cramps for no apparant reason. H says I breathe like a smoker.
Certainly I'm in remarkably poor voice at the moment, subject to odd pains, and tierd most of the time.
It took more than an hour to disembowel Simon M's computer - while unscrewing and disconnecting endless bolts and cables, we chuntered away about who is currently tolerating who in the party, and comparing the relative merits of Angela Lansbury and Dame Edna Everage as the new pope.
(Seriously, I suspect the next one will be a bland compromise. He thinks it'll be a right wing shit. We'll know soon enough.)
But I now have a bag full of hard disks and memory chips, soon to find a new home in a Dell box. There's another bag of bits from Paul T's computer somewhere.
Tomorrow night is the 'Italian Evening', which means a plate of pasta in a resteraunt, followed by a subtitled film. It's my job to transfer the VHS of the movie to DVD, and set up the projector, and generally make sure the 'film' side of the evening works.
Sometimes it's nice to have your expertise valued. This is not one of those times.
-----
EDIT: The film is Rome, Open City. And the picture quality of the VHS is just abysmal. I'll do what I can to clean it up, and try to arrange a last minute replacement if I can't.
The new songfight titles are up. 'Nothing Less Than Everything' fits quite well with what I have for 'Illusion', so I'll rewrite it in that direction.
There was some kind of cockup with my application for teacher training some months ago. I've requested a new application form. It's late for a submission, but there are still plenty of vacancies - some even in fairly nearby universities.
Four O'Clock exactly. I keep wanting to hear H's voice on the telephone, but there's nothing to call him about. I hope Nick is okay, he's been quite quiet lately. My body is failing and my mind is clouded. There's far too much to do, no time to do it, and sometimes it's difficult to care.
I've not been feeling good lately, and spent most of the day with stomach cramps for no apparant reason. H says I breathe like a smoker.
Certainly I'm in remarkably poor voice at the moment, subject to odd pains, and tierd most of the time.
It took more than an hour to disembowel Simon M's computer - while unscrewing and disconnecting endless bolts and cables, we chuntered away about who is currently tolerating who in the party, and comparing the relative merits of Angela Lansbury and Dame Edna Everage as the new pope.
(Seriously, I suspect the next one will be a bland compromise. He thinks it'll be a right wing shit. We'll know soon enough.)
But I now have a bag full of hard disks and memory chips, soon to find a new home in a Dell box. There's another bag of bits from Paul T's computer somewhere.
Tomorrow night is the 'Italian Evening', which means a plate of pasta in a resteraunt, followed by a subtitled film. It's my job to transfer the VHS of the movie to DVD, and set up the projector, and generally make sure the 'film' side of the evening works.
Sometimes it's nice to have your expertise valued. This is not one of those times.
-----
EDIT: The film is Rome, Open City. And the picture quality of the VHS is just abysmal. I'll do what I can to clean it up, and try to arrange a last minute replacement if I can't.
The new songfight titles are up. 'Nothing Less Than Everything' fits quite well with what I have for 'Illusion', so I'll rewrite it in that direction.
There was some kind of cockup with my application for teacher training some months ago. I've requested a new application form. It's late for a submission, but there are still plenty of vacancies - some even in fairly nearby universities.
Four O'Clock exactly. I keep wanting to hear H's voice on the telephone, but there's nothing to call him about. I hope Nick is okay, he's been quite quiet lately. My body is failing and my mind is clouded. There's far too much to do, no time to do it, and sometimes it's difficult to care.
Not much to say
There's a lot I could say about today and tonight. But 'waste of time' sums it up.
Today's aphorism: A friend is someone who makes the day bearable. A partner is someone who helps you forget it.
I haven't written a song for two or three weeks. Do you think there's already too many songs about 'for two pins I could fall stupidly in love but I shouldn't because it wouldn't work for purely practical reasons'? Maybe the next songfight will offer an appropriate title.
Today's aphorism: A friend is someone who makes the day bearable. A partner is someone who helps you forget it.
I haven't written a song for two or three weeks. Do you think there's already too many songs about 'for two pins I could fall stupidly in love but I shouldn't because it wouldn't work for purely practical reasons'? Maybe the next songfight will offer an appropriate title.
Hmmm
Oh dear. Oh dear oh dear. I've just said goodnight to H. We spent far too long hugging and kissing before he cycled away from my house. We didn't want to stop, so we just...kept on doing it.
I feel lightfooted and lightheaded. The same way I felt after D and I spent that weekend in London. I don't often get to feel like this, but it's a destinctive sensation. Like contentment but with caffine overdrive.
Oh bugger. There's absolutely no way a full blown relationship could work between us - we're two very different kinds of people, both busy with things the other has no real interest in, with different outlooks, and different aspirations. The only thing we have in common is being terrible at relationships.
We went to see a stage play called 'Going Dutch'. It wasn't actually very good - cardboard characters, obvious jokes, and a saccharine feelgood message. Not badly acted or scripted, just very...middle class, middle of the road, middle aged and mediocre.
We retired to the pub, perused the porn magazines on display, and proceeded to disagree amicably about the nature of drama, the advisability of a science of comedy, and the difference in mindset between physics and biology.
I asked him about aquatic ape theory - he didn't know much about it, but felt it explains a few strange facts about human biology at the expense of the great mass of common facts explained by the savanah theory.
Oh, we did agree about The Passionate Ape. Two pairs of eyes rolling in unison.
What am I going to do? Probably just what he said - get some sleep, and call him later.
I feel lightfooted and lightheaded. The same way I felt after D and I spent that weekend in London. I don't often get to feel like this, but it's a destinctive sensation. Like contentment but with caffine overdrive.
Oh bugger. There's absolutely no way a full blown relationship could work between us - we're two very different kinds of people, both busy with things the other has no real interest in, with different outlooks, and different aspirations. The only thing we have in common is being terrible at relationships.
We went to see a stage play called 'Going Dutch'. It wasn't actually very good - cardboard characters, obvious jokes, and a saccharine feelgood message. Not badly acted or scripted, just very...middle class, middle of the road, middle aged and mediocre.
We retired to the pub, perused the porn magazines on display, and proceeded to disagree amicably about the nature of drama, the advisability of a science of comedy, and the difference in mindset between physics and biology.
I asked him about aquatic ape theory - he didn't know much about it, but felt it explains a few strange facts about human biology at the expense of the great mass of common facts explained by the savanah theory.
Oh, we did agree about The Passionate Ape. Two pairs of eyes rolling in unison.
What am I going to do? Probably just what he said - get some sleep, and call him later.
The Insomniac Post
It's half past four in the morning, and it looks like I have no hope of getting to sleep. Well, I probably will be sleepy by 9, when I'll be sorting through software CDRs and preparing the overhaul John M's computer. Which will probably take several hours.
Given luck, there'll be time for a snooze in the afternoon, before a genteel night out at the theatre with the man I'm going out with, but not exactly going out with.
-----
The songfight boards have temporarily turned into a forum for arguing theology. That's arguing, not discussing. One troll has metamorphosed into an intelligent and thoughtful young man, some hitherto likable posters have developed a sudden impulse to idolise a polish man in a silly hat on the occasion of his death, and some of the more frivolous posters turn out to be well informed and skeptical.
All very surprising.
-----
I've read a little more on DSP. My god, the subject gets bigger and more complex each time I look at it. I must ask my little brother whether he's got any 'idiot's guide to sound processing' type books. 'ABC of DSP' would be nice, followed by 'FIR, FFT and LPF in C++'.
-----
Oh well. There's only one thing for it. Get dressed, and finish season 4 of Babylon 5.
Given luck, there'll be time for a snooze in the afternoon, before a genteel night out at the theatre with the man I'm going out with, but not exactly going out with.
-----
The songfight boards have temporarily turned into a forum for arguing theology. That's arguing, not discussing. One troll has metamorphosed into an intelligent and thoughtful young man, some hitherto likable posters have developed a sudden impulse to idolise a polish man in a silly hat on the occasion of his death, and some of the more frivolous posters turn out to be well informed and skeptical.
All very surprising.
-----
I've read a little more on DSP. My god, the subject gets bigger and more complex each time I look at it. I must ask my little brother whether he's got any 'idiot's guide to sound processing' type books. 'ABC of DSP' would be nice, followed by 'FIR, FFT and LPF in C++'.
-----
Oh well. There's only one thing for it. Get dressed, and finish season 4 of Babylon 5.
Less Music, More Apes
MS postponed meeting tonight till thursday. Seeing as I'd completely forgotten we were due to meet, this is probably a good thing.
-----
John M's computer is, once again, as expected, fucked. Popups, what sounds like spyware, and what could be a corrupted registry. So, I'll be there tomorrow morning, probably to invalidate some warrantees by reinstalling XP - but doing it properly.
Which means I actually need to get some sleep tonight. This is my contribution to the english left - I keep the computers working.
-----
Reading some more about Aquatic Ape theory led me here. The Passionate Ape, by Craig Hagstrom. The biggest pile of dren I've read in months. Here's a small quote:
When women lost reliable coital orgasms, they evolved passion as a partial replacement. That is, if you don't have a climax, you can still enjoy the intimacy if you love the guy. Passion can't cope with the partner's promiscuity, so passion demands monogamy.
Later we 'learn' that evolution has made the male of the human species stupid, because smart men can see beyond their current sexual relationships with women towards potential others, which makes them promiscuous, The trouble is that promiscuity erodes social bonds. So, nature makes men dull to preserve society.
Unfortunately, women are so sickened by how stupid men are, that they refuse to reproduce, preferring to masturbate. Thus the only women who do reproduce are the most repressed ones, who make their children repressed.
You think I'm exagerating? From the horse's mouth:
Male intelligence declined after our return to land, because intuitive and perceptive men understood women too well, and could too easily see prospects beyond their own hearth.
Men share self-repression, inherited from their mothers...We did not evolve to rape, but a couple cannot mate until the sum of their enthusiasms exceeds the sum of their fears. If women evolve reluctance, men must evolve pushiness.
On it's own, this is harmless cretinism - one man rationalising why his lovelife doesn't exist. The trouble is, it seems to be popular cretinism - the Amazon reviewers found this dreck profound and insightful.
-----
John M's computer is, once again, as expected, fucked. Popups, what sounds like spyware, and what could be a corrupted registry. So, I'll be there tomorrow morning, probably to invalidate some warrantees by reinstalling XP - but doing it properly.
Which means I actually need to get some sleep tonight. This is my contribution to the english left - I keep the computers working.
-----
Reading some more about Aquatic Ape theory led me here. The Passionate Ape, by Craig Hagstrom. The biggest pile of dren I've read in months. Here's a small quote:
When women lost reliable coital orgasms, they evolved passion as a partial replacement. That is, if you don't have a climax, you can still enjoy the intimacy if you love the guy. Passion can't cope with the partner's promiscuity, so passion demands monogamy.
Later we 'learn' that evolution has made the male of the human species stupid, because smart men can see beyond their current sexual relationships with women towards potential others, which makes them promiscuous, The trouble is that promiscuity erodes social bonds. So, nature makes men dull to preserve society.
Unfortunately, women are so sickened by how stupid men are, that they refuse to reproduce, preferring to masturbate. Thus the only women who do reproduce are the most repressed ones, who make their children repressed.
You think I'm exagerating? From the horse's mouth:
Male intelligence declined after our return to land, because intuitive and perceptive men understood women too well, and could too easily see prospects beyond their own hearth.
Men share self-repression, inherited from their mothers...We did not evolve to rape, but a couple cannot mate until the sum of their enthusiasms exceeds the sum of their fears. If women evolve reluctance, men must evolve pushiness.
On it's own, this is harmless cretinism - one man rationalising why his lovelife doesn't exist. The trouble is, it seems to be popular cretinism - the Amazon reviewers found this dreck profound and insightful.
Feed your ears
Not a great deal happened today (yesterday). Crawled out of bed at 1pm, so I could get to the theatre to get tickets for me and H, for wednesday evening.
Burned a load of movies and episodes of detective serials to DVDR. Encoding 'The Man With Two Brains' as I type. While listening to Status Quo and Squarepusher - interesting combination.
-----
Got around to watching episode 2 of the new Doctor Who. Very silly, but charmingly so. Intriguing to hear that Gallifrey was destroyed in war - by implication civil war.
Nothing like 'classic' who, which could be just as silly, but was never self consciously (reflexively) silly. And unlike 'classic' who, I don't think it'll become a classic.
-----
I spent last night reading up on the basics of DSP. Quantization errors, sampling rate errors, filter ripple unpredictability...And similar. With a little maths and some concentration, none of the individual ideas seem especially difficult.
The thing is, the same is true of everything in computing. 250 easy-to-assimilate ideas is still 250 ideas to get through, and to keep straight once learned.
In this case, I have to learn in some detail about structured C++ programming, digital signal processing, and Steinberg's software development kit for VSTs. Plus a revision of my slightly rusty skills in graphic design, and some more on synthesizer architecture.
-----
My parents have discovered eBay recently. Mother has got herself an electric violin, and Father an 'investment' in the form of a jazz 78 record.
There is an irony in this. All the family are musical, though most of us aren't especially good at it. The irony is that the one who has no musical pretentions at all is my brother. And he's a world class expert in exactly the area I'm researching - DSP algorithms.
Burned a load of movies and episodes of detective serials to DVDR. Encoding 'The Man With Two Brains' as I type. While listening to Status Quo and Squarepusher - interesting combination.
-----
Got around to watching episode 2 of the new Doctor Who. Very silly, but charmingly so. Intriguing to hear that Gallifrey was destroyed in war - by implication civil war.
Nothing like 'classic' who, which could be just as silly, but was never self consciously (reflexively) silly. And unlike 'classic' who, I don't think it'll become a classic.
-----
I spent last night reading up on the basics of DSP. Quantization errors, sampling rate errors, filter ripple unpredictability...And similar. With a little maths and some concentration, none of the individual ideas seem especially difficult.
The thing is, the same is true of everything in computing. 250 easy-to-assimilate ideas is still 250 ideas to get through, and to keep straight once learned.
In this case, I have to learn in some detail about structured C++ programming, digital signal processing, and Steinberg's software development kit for VSTs. Plus a revision of my slightly rusty skills in graphic design, and some more on synthesizer architecture.
-----
My parents have discovered eBay recently. Mother has got herself an electric violin, and Father an 'investment' in the form of a jazz 78 record.
There is an irony in this. All the family are musical, though most of us aren't especially good at it. The irony is that the one who has no musical pretentions at all is my brother. And he's a world class expert in exactly the area I'm researching - DSP algorithms.
The Short Version
I'll write more when I'm not exhausted. M wrote back saying he just wants to be friends. MS phoned months after I asked him to stay away - I didn't have the heart to tell him to get lost.
H and I became unexpectedly rather intimate. As we parted I said "I'm not sure what just happened." He replied "Neither am I."
Oh yeah. The pope's dead.
H and I became unexpectedly rather intimate. As we parted I said "I'm not sure what just happened." He replied "Neither am I."
Oh yeah. The pope's dead.
M for Message. Message for M
On impulse, I checked my gaydar messages. I haven't logged on to that site for months, but when I did there was a message from M. He'd left it on Feb 25th.
He wanted to know if I was single again. Oh god. We had a ten day relationship, and managed to break up twice. Six months ago. And he's still thinking of me?!
I sent him a message back, saying we just weren't right for each other. I don't know how he'll respond. Perhaps since he sent the message he's ceased to hold a candle for me, in which case...fine. Maybe he'll just take what I said as another cruel rejection.
Hey, maybe I misunderstood his message and I just rejected him needlessly. In which case I've made a pillock of myself, but there's no great harm done.
I think I do know what will happen if we meet again though. He'll cook something excellent for me - which is great. Then we'll end up in bed together, which is good. And I'll be persuaded to stay the night, which is okay. And in the morning he'll want me to come back soon and do it again, which is bad.
Gah!
He wanted to know if I was single again. Oh god. We had a ten day relationship, and managed to break up twice. Six months ago. And he's still thinking of me?!
I sent him a message back, saying we just weren't right for each other. I don't know how he'll respond. Perhaps since he sent the message he's ceased to hold a candle for me, in which case...fine. Maybe he'll just take what I said as another cruel rejection.
Hey, maybe I misunderstood his message and I just rejected him needlessly. In which case I've made a pillock of myself, but there's no great harm done.
I think I do know what will happen if we meet again though. He'll cook something excellent for me - which is great. Then we'll end up in bed together, which is good. And I'll be persuaded to stay the night, which is okay. And in the morning he'll want me to come back soon and do it again, which is bad.
Gah!
It's a mad world world world world
The songfight admins decided to pretend the site was closed down and up for auction. An obvious fraud, and inevitable considering the culture of the place. Most of the denizens of the board are baying their delight like the bunch of fucking sychophants they are.
-----
The TV news is that the pope is still dying, and in other news the world is still doomed and there's a new film out. Sometimes I think I should pay more attention to the (quote) factual media. Then I do and remember why I don't.
-----
I've got a fair theoretical grasp of C++ now, and I've found the SDK for VSTs and VSTIs. Next I'll have to look at the mathematics of DSP.
That's likely to be a lot more difficult. Partly because it's more complex, and partly because my background in programming helped me get to grips with C++, but I don't have a background in maths to help me out.
And meanwhile get some practice writing C++ programs. Even though I don't have other projects that I can use to practice with.
First though, there's more OU work to catch up on. The chapters on earth sciences.-----In case you haven't noticed, I'm feeling stressed. Well, trapped and frustrated. I really need to spend some hours with H tomorrow. He can be infuriating, but he's never stupid.
Actually he can be bloody infuriating, but never through mindless spewing of cliches or playing childish games. He treats me like an intelligent adult.
-----
Why am I in a strange organisation like the Socialist Workers Party? It's because they treat me like an intelligent adult too. And because they are mostly worthy of just the same respect in return.
The most recent recruit to the local branch is Eddie C. He's been working with us as part of Veterans For Peace and the Stop The War Coalition for months, so he's not a new face.
Eddie is an ex-soldier, and looks for all the world like a handsome, weatherbeaten thug. He was stationed in Northern Ireland, sometimes doing nothing for months at a time but check passports and papers at checkpoints.
Sometimes he was hiding behind bushes and spying on local politicians, reporting their dull daily routine through a radio for someone else to transcribe and put in a folder.
And occasionally diving for cover at any loud bang that could be a bomb or a gun. Interminable hours of the most incredibly pointless, boring pseudoactivity, and random minutes of blind screaming panic.
He's on antidepressants and antipsychotics. It almost drove him mad. Eddie is a kind, intelligent, self aware man. He thinks and reads deeply. Without the drugs he's subject to unpredictable rages, and crushing depression. With them, he's a pale shadow.
This is something worth getting angry about.
-----
What else is there? Oh yes. The Strict Machines are in an international 'battle of the bands' type of competition. So the practice sessions are frequent and intense.
This is not the time for Paul T to finally get a girlfriend. But that's exactly what he's doing.
-----
It felt good to write that lot. Or rather, it feels better now having written it. Perhaps I'll even go to bed now.
-----
The TV news is that the pope is still dying, and in other news the world is still doomed and there's a new film out. Sometimes I think I should pay more attention to the (quote) factual media. Then I do and remember why I don't.
-----
I've got a fair theoretical grasp of C++ now, and I've found the SDK for VSTs and VSTIs. Next I'll have to look at the mathematics of DSP.
That's likely to be a lot more difficult. Partly because it's more complex, and partly because my background in programming helped me get to grips with C++, but I don't have a background in maths to help me out.
And meanwhile get some practice writing C++ programs. Even though I don't have other projects that I can use to practice with.
First though, there's more OU work to catch up on. The chapters on earth sciences.-----In case you haven't noticed, I'm feeling stressed. Well, trapped and frustrated. I really need to spend some hours with H tomorrow. He can be infuriating, but he's never stupid.
Actually he can be bloody infuriating, but never through mindless spewing of cliches or playing childish games. He treats me like an intelligent adult.
-----
Why am I in a strange organisation like the Socialist Workers Party? It's because they treat me like an intelligent adult too. And because they are mostly worthy of just the same respect in return.
The most recent recruit to the local branch is Eddie C. He's been working with us as part of Veterans For Peace and the Stop The War Coalition for months, so he's not a new face.
Eddie is an ex-soldier, and looks for all the world like a handsome, weatherbeaten thug. He was stationed in Northern Ireland, sometimes doing nothing for months at a time but check passports and papers at checkpoints.
Sometimes he was hiding behind bushes and spying on local politicians, reporting their dull daily routine through a radio for someone else to transcribe and put in a folder.
And occasionally diving for cover at any loud bang that could be a bomb or a gun. Interminable hours of the most incredibly pointless, boring pseudoactivity, and random minutes of blind screaming panic.
He's on antidepressants and antipsychotics. It almost drove him mad. Eddie is a kind, intelligent, self aware man. He thinks and reads deeply. Without the drugs he's subject to unpredictable rages, and crushing depression. With them, he's a pale shadow.
This is something worth getting angry about.
-----
What else is there? Oh yes. The Strict Machines are in an international 'battle of the bands' type of competition. So the practice sessions are frequent and intense.
This is not the time for Paul T to finally get a girlfriend. But that's exactly what he's doing.
-----
It felt good to write that lot. Or rather, it feels better now having written it. Perhaps I'll even go to bed now.
C and H
I'm ploughing through the C++ tutorials here.
It's a very elegant language, more abstract than BASIC or Pascal, and certainly more gnomic in it's form. I'm still a bit vague on classes and OOP - and I have no intention ever of using recursion - but it's surprising how quickly it all comes back.
Arrays, pointers, types of loop, linked lists, binary trees...most of the concepts in programming are almost the same as they were 25 years ago.
-----
I'm seeing H tomorrow. There's no decent films on at the moment, so I imagine we'll be sitting in a pub, disagreeing about things we almost agree about.
-----
I am only impressed by things I can't do or don't understand.
I envied people who could sing, until I started singing myself. Now I only envy people who sing well. I was only interested in religion until I understood why people believed it, and why all religions are functionally identical. Once, I searched for a faith worth embracing, now they all seem equally tedious and childish.
Mnemonic memory tricks fail to impress because I know how they're done, but magic tricks are still intriguing because I haven't studied magic.
Ideology as encoded in film and television serials seemed a fascinating subject for study while I was at university. Now that I know the subject quite well - though I'm certainly not a great expert - the 'deeper meanings' in television drama seem obvious and incoherent.
Oh there's still plenty around to impress. Mathematics, physics, biology and earth sciences. Dialectical logic and history. Aspects of acoustics, and many parts of music theory.
Actually, bricklaying and coalmining are two subjects that I know almost nothing about. Next to cryptography and the finer details of evolution.
They're all interesting. It's just that the mundane seems to have been exhausted.
It's a very elegant language, more abstract than BASIC or Pascal, and certainly more gnomic in it's form. I'm still a bit vague on classes and OOP - and I have no intention ever of using recursion - but it's surprising how quickly it all comes back.
Arrays, pointers, types of loop, linked lists, binary trees...most of the concepts in programming are almost the same as they were 25 years ago.
-----
I'm seeing H tomorrow. There's no decent films on at the moment, so I imagine we'll be sitting in a pub, disagreeing about things we almost agree about.
-----
I am only impressed by things I can't do or don't understand.
I envied people who could sing, until I started singing myself. Now I only envy people who sing well. I was only interested in religion until I understood why people believed it, and why all religions are functionally identical. Once, I searched for a faith worth embracing, now they all seem equally tedious and childish.
Mnemonic memory tricks fail to impress because I know how they're done, but magic tricks are still intriguing because I haven't studied magic.
Ideology as encoded in film and television serials seemed a fascinating subject for study while I was at university. Now that I know the subject quite well - though I'm certainly not a great expert - the 'deeper meanings' in television drama seem obvious and incoherent.
Oh there's still plenty around to impress. Mathematics, physics, biology and earth sciences. Dialectical logic and history. Aspects of acoustics, and many parts of music theory.
Actually, bricklaying and coalmining are two subjects that I know almost nothing about. Next to cryptography and the finer details of evolution.
They're all interesting. It's just that the mundane seems to have been exhausted.
Back out
If you spend hours hunched over a computer unit, more hours hunched over a keyboard, and then some more hours curled up in front of the television, expect to wake up one morning and think, "My back hurts quite a lot. I think I need a new spinal column. Ouch."
A lot of American christians are up in arms because a woman in a persistant vegetative state has been allowed to die. A lot of European christians are praying that a terminally ill man not be allowed to die. Terri Schiavo and Karel Wojtyla.
This morning's newspapers will containly slightly more bullshit than usual. Just for one day of the year, some people read the papers sceptically.
A lot of American christians are up in arms because a woman in a persistant vegetative state has been allowed to die. A lot of European christians are praying that a terminally ill man not be allowed to die. Terri Schiavo and Karel Wojtyla.
This morning's newspapers will containly slightly more bullshit than usual. Just for one day of the year, some people read the papers sceptically.
How To Do Computer Stuff: Part 153
Today was spent trying to install an operating system. This is my guide to installing Windows 98 :
* Search for a Windows 98 installation disk. Fail. Search again until you find one in a strange place.
* Find that you can't boot into the installation procecure - you need to install MS-DOS first, and call it from there
* Search for MS-DOS on a floppy disk. Fail. Search again until you find something similar, like a Windows ME boot disk.
* Discover that the disk is corrupted.
* Try booting up using PartitionMagic. Get an error message you've never seen before, and a crash. Do this several time just to make sure.
* Remember that your father has a computer running Windows 95. It's 200 MHz with 1GB, but he refuses to upgrade because he's seen the trouble upgrading can cause. He may have a point. Anyway, try to make a Win95 boot disk on his computer, with which to install Win98 on yours.
* Try to do it again with a different floppy disk.
* Run the Win95 boot disk on your computer. Discover that it won't. Probably because the floppy reader is rubbish.
* Replace the floppy reader. Find that the new one won't connect to the plug in your computer. Put the old one back.
* Install Windows 2000 out of desperation.
* Discover that it is possible to boot into the Win98 installation after all.
-----
EDIT: Part 153b
* Realise just how old Win98 is, and how little software runs on it. Plump for Windows ME instead.
-----
News headlines today:
Pope Still Not Dead. I couldn't help thinking of something in The Hitch Hiker's Guide To The Galaxy. "The emperor is nearly dead, and has been for many centuries. This is because in his last moments, he was, much to his imperial annoyance, lock in a perpetual stasis field. The result of which is that power has moved a few rungs down the ladder."
The maneuvering behind the scenes at the Vatican must be absolutely frantic. All the factions bargaining and smearing, trying to get their figureheads in place to be elected when the old man finally dies.
World Doomed. A major report has been published on the environment. Greenhouse emissions, unreplacable natural resources, pollution. All the usual stuff, the usual multinationals saying it isn't a problem but they're taking care of it anyway, and the usual amnesia a week later.
Jacko Perv Trial. It's like David Blaine in a box, but even less interesting.
* Search for a Windows 98 installation disk. Fail. Search again until you find one in a strange place.
* Find that you can't boot into the installation procecure - you need to install MS-DOS first, and call it from there
* Search for MS-DOS on a floppy disk. Fail. Search again until you find something similar, like a Windows ME boot disk.
* Discover that the disk is corrupted.
* Try booting up using PartitionMagic. Get an error message you've never seen before, and a crash. Do this several time just to make sure.
* Remember that your father has a computer running Windows 95. It's 200 MHz with 1GB, but he refuses to upgrade because he's seen the trouble upgrading can cause. He may have a point. Anyway, try to make a Win95 boot disk on his computer, with which to install Win98 on yours.
* Try to do it again with a different floppy disk.
* Run the Win95 boot disk on your computer. Discover that it won't. Probably because the floppy reader is rubbish.
* Replace the floppy reader. Find that the new one won't connect to the plug in your computer. Put the old one back.
* Install Windows 2000 out of desperation.
* Discover that it is possible to boot into the Win98 installation after all.
-----
EDIT: Part 153b
* Realise just how old Win98 is, and how little software runs on it. Plump for Windows ME instead.
-----
News headlines today:
Pope Still Not Dead. I couldn't help thinking of something in The Hitch Hiker's Guide To The Galaxy. "The emperor is nearly dead, and has been for many centuries. This is because in his last moments, he was, much to his imperial annoyance, lock in a perpetual stasis field. The result of which is that power has moved a few rungs down the ladder."
The maneuvering behind the scenes at the Vatican must be absolutely frantic. All the factions bargaining and smearing, trying to get their figureheads in place to be elected when the old man finally dies.
World Doomed. A major report has been published on the environment. Greenhouse emissions, unreplacable natural resources, pollution. All the usual stuff, the usual multinationals saying it isn't a problem but they're taking care of it anyway, and the usual amnesia a week later.
Jacko Perv Trial. It's like David Blaine in a box, but even less interesting.
Apes and Music
Fascinating article here about Aquatic Ape theory. And some links here. I've heard vaguely about it before, but never researched it. It looks like a reasonable (but partial) explanation for some quirks in human biological design - bipedalism, hairlessness, secretion of sebum and such. As I'm going out with a naturalist, a professional second opinion shouldn't be difficult to find.
-----
Page 50 of C for Beginners, and I know how to print my name on the screen.
-----
Last week my bank screwed up. I'd asked them to transfer £50 from a full account to an empty account. Not difficlt. But they managed to transfer £50 from an account with £0 into one with £1000. I pointed this out to the manager this morning, and he was full of apology. He even said HSBC wouldn't be charging me for the error - I was a bit surprised at that. I expected to have to snarl and shout and be generally unpleasant.
Now I just have to deal with the OU's financial screw up. They have mislaid my standing order to pay their fees, and have elected to charge me 'interest' for my consequent late payment.
-----
I've resumed copying cassettes into mp3 format, and in doing so rediscovered Itchy Fingers - a saxophone quartet who veer wildly between smokey ballad jazz and something resembling what The Fall would sound like if they were a brass band. With occasional voiceovers from Stanley Unwin.
-----
EDIT: My phone isn't working, Blogger won't let me change the colour scheme of my blog, someone I don't think I know has sent me a text message asking me if I'm awake yet, and speaking of which, my odd sleeping patterns have caught up with me. It's nearly 2100, and an early night seems a good idea.
-----
Page 50 of C for Beginners, and I know how to print my name on the screen.
-----
Last week my bank screwed up. I'd asked them to transfer £50 from a full account to an empty account. Not difficlt. But they managed to transfer £50 from an account with £0 into one with £1000. I pointed this out to the manager this morning, and he was full of apology. He even said HSBC wouldn't be charging me for the error - I was a bit surprised at that. I expected to have to snarl and shout and be generally unpleasant.
Now I just have to deal with the OU's financial screw up. They have mislaid my standing order to pay their fees, and have elected to charge me 'interest' for my consequent late payment.
-----
I've resumed copying cassettes into mp3 format, and in doing so rediscovered Itchy Fingers - a saxophone quartet who veer wildly between smokey ballad jazz and something resembling what The Fall would sound like if they were a brass band. With occasional voiceovers from Stanley Unwin.
-----
EDIT: My phone isn't working, Blogger won't let me change the colour scheme of my blog, someone I don't think I know has sent me a text message asking me if I'm awake yet, and speaking of which, my odd sleeping patterns have caught up with me. It's nearly 2100, and an early night seems a good idea.
The A and B of C
I'm on page 2 of 'C for Beginners'. It was written in 1986, when I was 14 years old. At that time, I was a pretty good programmer in BASIC, but had never used COBOL or Pascal. C (not yet C++) had been the flavour of the month for the last year or so, and no one knew how long it would last. Certainly no one imagined it would be a major language two decades later.
However, for the last six months I've been toying with the idea of constructing my own VST instruments, and possibly effects. There's some very good free VSTs about, but the don't do exactly what I want.
I want, for instance, a multiple-band phaser or 'wah' device - up to five variable-width frequency bands, that are boosted with resonance, and which bounce between high and low frequency positions in various envelopes.
To make VSTs, I need the Steinberg VST SDK, plus a bit more knowledge about DSP. To use the SDK, which is freely available, I need to know about C. It's been years since I've done any serious programming, but I spent 14 years since the age of 10 being a pretty good programmer, and that should count for something.
Anyway. I'm on page 2.
-----
Page 24, and I'm being reintroduced to the data types I first met 12 years ago, while studying Ada. Along the way, there's been some trips down memory lane. References to BCPL, ALGOL and the ill fated MSX - promoted as the next big thing that wouldn't get outdated, and was gone within six months.
Tonight, I've recorded Billy Elliot, Legend of Earthsea (Part 2), Farscape episode 209 (which has the be the slashiest episode ever), and A Fish Called Wanda, which is a lot less rubbish than I recall. In a few minutes, I'll stick them on to reencode overnight, watch an episode or two of Babylon 5, drink some tea...and read some more about C.
I'm actually rather enjoying it. Twenty years after everyone else.
However, for the last six months I've been toying with the idea of constructing my own VST instruments, and possibly effects. There's some very good free VSTs about, but the don't do exactly what I want.
I want, for instance, a multiple-band phaser or 'wah' device - up to five variable-width frequency bands, that are boosted with resonance, and which bounce between high and low frequency positions in various envelopes.
To make VSTs, I need the Steinberg VST SDK, plus a bit more knowledge about DSP. To use the SDK, which is freely available, I need to know about C. It's been years since I've done any serious programming, but I spent 14 years since the age of 10 being a pretty good programmer, and that should count for something.
Anyway. I'm on page 2.
-----
Page 24, and I'm being reintroduced to the data types I first met 12 years ago, while studying Ada. Along the way, there's been some trips down memory lane. References to BCPL, ALGOL and the ill fated MSX - promoted as the next big thing that wouldn't get outdated, and was gone within six months.
Tonight, I've recorded Billy Elliot, Legend of Earthsea (Part 2), Farscape episode 209 (which has the be the slashiest episode ever), and A Fish Called Wanda, which is a lot less rubbish than I recall. In a few minutes, I'll stick them on to reencode overnight, watch an episode or two of Babylon 5, drink some tea...and read some more about C.
I'm actually rather enjoying it. Twenty years after everyone else.
Oh what a lovely day for...
When I woke up this morning, I thought "Today is a day for disembowling a computer, shoving the bits into another computer, and fiddling around with them till they work."
Well, I didn't, but I should have done, because that's what happened.
Apart from that, reviews of 'Systematic Panic' have been mostly positive, though the comparisons to David Bowie and Pink Floyd must be about Nick's vocals. My music is more like Jean Michel Jarre via Joy Division.
I'm seriously tempted to do something for 'Man Date' for the next fight. Just because the title says 'camp, 70s disco, over the top, fun, and camp again' to me. I should give it a miss though - far too many other things to do, including canibalising more bloody computers. Some of which are even for me to use.
Last night (this morning) was spent watching Babylon 5 DivXes, drinking tea, and munching far too many chocoolate buscuits. Tonight (this morning) it will be different. In that I'm out of chocolate biscuits.
I can't afford to stop living with my parents. Which is lucky, because I've come to love living in a house with 8 working computers (plus four more in bits), endless technical challenges, and a great big pile of digital videos. If only I could share it with a boyfriend.
Well, I didn't, but I should have done, because that's what happened.
Apart from that, reviews of 'Systematic Panic' have been mostly positive, though the comparisons to David Bowie and Pink Floyd must be about Nick's vocals. My music is more like Jean Michel Jarre via Joy Division.
I'm seriously tempted to do something for 'Man Date' for the next fight. Just because the title says 'camp, 70s disco, over the top, fun, and camp again' to me. I should give it a miss though - far too many other things to do, including canibalising more bloody computers. Some of which are even for me to use.
Last night (this morning) was spent watching Babylon 5 DivXes, drinking tea, and munching far too many chocoolate buscuits. Tonight (this morning) it will be different. In that I'm out of chocolate biscuits.
I can't afford to stop living with my parents. Which is lucky, because I've come to love living in a house with 8 working computers (plus four more in bits), endless technical challenges, and a great big pile of digital videos. If only I could share it with a boyfriend.
I'm the doctor. Run for your life
Doctor Who, Season 27, Episode 1. I expected to be disappointed, or even to hate it. Instead, I'm intrigued, and acutally quite impressed.
To reintroduce the autons as the bad guys. That's the kind of idea a fan would come up with - a hack who cared nothing for the series would have begun with a new, hitherto unheard of enemy. A dumb fan would have begun with the daleks, or maybe cybermen.
This isn't at all an attempt to recapture the feel of 'classic' who, and it's good that it's isn't. Nor is it one of those cretinous 'updatings' that killed the Battlestar Galactica 're-imagining' and made Paul Darrow walk out in disgust from the Blake's 7 miniseries.
I think this series will gain a following on it's own merits. Which means we'll be faced with two overlapping fandoms - old and new.
To reintroduce the autons as the bad guys. That's the kind of idea a fan would come up with - a hack who cared nothing for the series would have begun with a new, hitherto unheard of enemy. A dumb fan would have begun with the daleks, or maybe cybermen.
This isn't at all an attempt to recapture the feel of 'classic' who, and it's good that it's isn't. Nor is it one of those cretinous 'updatings' that killed the Battlestar Galactica 're-imagining' and made Paul Darrow walk out in disgust from the Blake's 7 miniseries.
I think this series will gain a following on it's own merits. Which means we'll be faced with two overlapping fandoms - old and new.
Synthetic Panic
'Systematic Panic' is submitted. Nick had a few last minutes suggestions, some of which I implemented.
It has the destinction of being the public debut of The K Twins.
-----
I've been thinking about a new kind of synthesiser. I don't know if anyone else has had the same idea. It might be called an Additing Morphing synth. It would work like this:
Take two waveforms, say a sawtooth and a triangle. These can be thought of as either a trace on an oscilloscope representing density in the transmissive medium, or as a histogram of sine waves.
Break the waveforms down by Fourier analysis into a histogram of (say) 128 frequency bands, throw away the original waveforms, and reconstruct approximations of the originals by Fourier synthesis - adding together sinewaves according to the amplitude of each band.
For any given band, it's amplitude will probably be different from the corresponding band for the other waveform. So, it should be possible to 'morph' between the two waveforms, one to the other and back again in a loop.
But, there is no reason why all the bands shoud morph at the same rate. If the rates are randomised, the result should be a constantly shifting sound, unpredictable and strange, but retaining the same fundamental harmonics.
Now, why stop at two waveforms? Why not morph between sawtooth, square, triangle, ramp and sine squared forms? And why use only these forms? Morphing between three different vocal 'ahhh' samples might make an intriguing choir.
The idea of morphing between two waveforms is not new. But I don't know of any attempt to make the componant frequencies morph at different rates.
To implement this as a VST, I'd have to do it in C++ and the VST SDK. Neither of which I was ever any good at.
It has the destinction of being the public debut of The K Twins.
-----
I've been thinking about a new kind of synthesiser. I don't know if anyone else has had the same idea. It might be called an Additing Morphing synth. It would work like this:
Take two waveforms, say a sawtooth and a triangle. These can be thought of as either a trace on an oscilloscope representing density in the transmissive medium, or as a histogram of sine waves.
Break the waveforms down by Fourier analysis into a histogram of (say) 128 frequency bands, throw away the original waveforms, and reconstruct approximations of the originals by Fourier synthesis - adding together sinewaves according to the amplitude of each band.
For any given band, it's amplitude will probably be different from the corresponding band for the other waveform. So, it should be possible to 'morph' between the two waveforms, one to the other and back again in a loop.
But, there is no reason why all the bands shoud morph at the same rate. If the rates are randomised, the result should be a constantly shifting sound, unpredictable and strange, but retaining the same fundamental harmonics.
Now, why stop at two waveforms? Why not morph between sawtooth, square, triangle, ramp and sine squared forms? And why use only these forms? Morphing between three different vocal 'ahhh' samples might make an intriguing choir.
The idea of morphing between two waveforms is not new. But I don't know of any attempt to make the componant frequencies morph at different rates.
To implement this as a VST, I'd have to do it in C++ and the VST SDK. Neither of which I was ever any good at.
Doctor, doctor
Have you noticed? The return Dr Who has got more media coverage than a dying pope, a royal marriage, and a war, all put together. And yes I will be watching it.
I've just spent most of the night burning CDRs. There was something of a backlog of DivXs clutting up one computer - 9 DSNs and 19 TNGs. Which makes nearly 20 hours of Star Trek. And while doing that, I listened to 80s disco music, and read Doctor Who slash stories on the internet. Gay stereotype? Me? What makes you think that?
There's also Fawlty Towers and Reggie Perrin recordings to be burned. When I can face them. Sleep might be a nice idea before that though.
On the one hand, I'm impatient for the new songfight titles. On the other, I need to give myself time to study. Nighty Night.
I've just spent most of the night burning CDRs. There was something of a backlog of DivXs clutting up one computer - 9 DSNs and 19 TNGs. Which makes nearly 20 hours of Star Trek. And while doing that, I listened to 80s disco music, and read Doctor Who slash stories on the internet. Gay stereotype? Me? What makes you think that?
There's also Fawlty Towers and Reggie Perrin recordings to be burned. When I can face them. Sleep might be a nice idea before that though.
On the one hand, I'm impatient for the new songfight titles. On the other, I need to give myself time to study. Nighty Night.
Time please
"Time. The word is meaningless, yet it is all that exists." - 'Einstein' in Farscape
This morning, one of my uncles wanted instruction over the phone on how to convert a corporate video in WMV format into a DVD. After explaing to him why no one in their right mind uses WMV, I let him borrow my FTP account to upload it. I'll fiddle around with various codecs and bits of freeware, and make a DVD for him.
Yesterday I picked up three second hand computer monitors. Today, my father's old monitor refused to switch on. So he's got a 'new' one twice as good, and I've got to go back to the warehouse again.
After one of my late breakfasts, I took to completed 'jobseeker' forms to the jobcentre, where I was kept waiting for 40 minutes, before being told I'd been given the wrong forms to fill out, and an appoitment to see the wrong person. After another 45 minutes or so, I had some different forms to take home.
This evening was taken up with an OU seminar in a stiflingly hot room. Possibly appropriate, as the subject was rocks and volcanos. If I hadn't done GCSE Geology all those years ago, I wouldn't have been able to follow it.
Nick didn't have time to rerecord his vocals for 'Systematic Panic', so he sent me the unprocessed vocal track from his demo version. I'll see if I have time to record some extra vocals - probably on the choruses. I may have to do that tommow morning, which is painfully close to the deadline.
On the one hand, it would be nice to have more time. On the other, it would be even better not to have to waste so much of it.
This morning, one of my uncles wanted instruction over the phone on how to convert a corporate video in WMV format into a DVD. After explaing to him why no one in their right mind uses WMV, I let him borrow my FTP account to upload it. I'll fiddle around with various codecs and bits of freeware, and make a DVD for him.
Yesterday I picked up three second hand computer monitors. Today, my father's old monitor refused to switch on. So he's got a 'new' one twice as good, and I've got to go back to the warehouse again.
After one of my late breakfasts, I took to completed 'jobseeker' forms to the jobcentre, where I was kept waiting for 40 minutes, before being told I'd been given the wrong forms to fill out, and an appoitment to see the wrong person. After another 45 minutes or so, I had some different forms to take home.
This evening was taken up with an OU seminar in a stiflingly hot room. Possibly appropriate, as the subject was rocks and volcanos. If I hadn't done GCSE Geology all those years ago, I wouldn't have been able to follow it.
Nick didn't have time to rerecord his vocals for 'Systematic Panic', so he sent me the unprocessed vocal track from his demo version. I'll see if I have time to record some extra vocals - probably on the choruses. I may have to do that tommow morning, which is painfully close to the deadline.
On the one hand, it would be nice to have more time. On the other, it would be even better not to have to waste so much of it.
Gaining in my art
The sun is out / The sky is blue / and Nick has sent me / an email too...
It is indeed a nice sunny day, with sky that is probably blue behind the clouds, and Nick is back home recording some vocals for us. His sister's husband suffered a minor stroke - the kind of thing that takes years for the victim to recover from, and rearranges families at (so to speak) a stroke.
If you want to define an Act of God, think of a freak storm, meeting your cousin on a blind date, or a blood clot in the brain.
-----
There's two new old computers cluttering up the place. Two boxes, each with monitor, keyboard, mouse, and printer. And far too many cables. One will go to SM, or rather, I will canibalise his old computer and one of these new old computers to make another new but old computer out of old bits. And something similar for Paul T. And then the same again for JS. Payment from each: £35 plus all the gossip and tea I can stand.
Oh, and then I'll have to fix JM's printer again. GAH!
Why do I get more business now that I'm not in business anymore?
-----
Tomorrow I have some stupid forms to take back to the job centre, so it might be an idea to fill them in. And then I have a tutorial for the OU, so it might be an idea to read the relavent unit.
It is indeed a nice sunny day, with sky that is probably blue behind the clouds, and Nick is back home recording some vocals for us. His sister's husband suffered a minor stroke - the kind of thing that takes years for the victim to recover from, and rearranges families at (so to speak) a stroke.
If you want to define an Act of God, think of a freak storm, meeting your cousin on a blind date, or a blood clot in the brain.
-----
There's two new old computers cluttering up the place. Two boxes, each with monitor, keyboard, mouse, and printer. And far too many cables. One will go to SM, or rather, I will canibalise his old computer and one of these new old computers to make another new but old computer out of old bits. And something similar for Paul T. And then the same again for JS. Payment from each: £35 plus all the gossip and tea I can stand.
Oh, and then I'll have to fix JM's printer again. GAH!
Why do I get more business now that I'm not in business anymore?
-----
Tomorrow I have some stupid forms to take back to the job centre, so it might be an idea to fill them in. And then I have a tutorial for the OU, so it might be an idea to read the relavent unit.
Waiting
I must be very out of condition. I used to be able to manage 2 hours cycling without much difficulty - now I can barely manage 20 minutes.
Neither H nor Nick have got back to me. Both have busy lives and can disappear for days at a time, but I'm feeling quite low, and a word from them would help.
My parents are up in London tonight, enjoying their retirement with a night of Chopin and Mozart. Being left alone means I can concentrate on whatever projects I feel moved to work on. But it also means there's no one to talk to, at just the time I could use some company.
-----
EDIT: H sent me a text message. He's going to spend easter with family, and suggests we meet up afterwards. Gah!
I've been reading about theories that link depression, obesity, and food allergies. Perhaps 'hypotheses' is a better word, because there's a lot of guesswork and speculation. It's an interesting possibility that people may be addicted to the very foods they're allergic to. Though I find it more plausible that people get fat and unhappy because their lives and food are both shit.
Nevertheless, the possibility that I can change my mood and my body by the same method of cutting out some commonly allergenic foods...is appealing. I eat far too much chocolate and not much fruit or vegetables - the typical techie with a desperately unhealthy diet.
Actually, breakfast today was two cups of tea and three chocolate biscuits. That, in itself, could do with changing.
Hey, maybe if I start tonight (that's tonight, not tomorrow morning) I'll be slimmer and less bloody depressed when I finally get to see H again.
Neither H nor Nick have got back to me. Both have busy lives and can disappear for days at a time, but I'm feeling quite low, and a word from them would help.
My parents are up in London tonight, enjoying their retirement with a night of Chopin and Mozart. Being left alone means I can concentrate on whatever projects I feel moved to work on. But it also means there's no one to talk to, at just the time I could use some company.
-----
EDIT: H sent me a text message. He's going to spend easter with family, and suggests we meet up afterwards. Gah!
I've been reading about theories that link depression, obesity, and food allergies. Perhaps 'hypotheses' is a better word, because there's a lot of guesswork and speculation. It's an interesting possibility that people may be addicted to the very foods they're allergic to. Though I find it more plausible that people get fat and unhappy because their lives and food are both shit.
Nevertheless, the possibility that I can change my mood and my body by the same method of cutting out some commonly allergenic foods...is appealing. I eat far too much chocolate and not much fruit or vegetables - the typical techie with a desperately unhealthy diet.
Actually, breakfast today was two cups of tea and three chocolate biscuits. That, in itself, could do with changing.
Hey, maybe if I start tonight (that's tonight, not tomorrow morning) I'll be slimmer and less bloody depressed when I finally get to see H again.
Sound and the suburbs
My first experiment with equal temperament. I made a set of single cycle sawtooth samples, each at a frequency that was an integral multiple of the 440Hz root - one sample per scale note. I arranged them in Reason's sampler, and played some chords.
The sound was different, somehow clearer and crisper. Not gobsmackingly pure or unusual, but distinctive.
I need to find a way to make Reason or Sonar play in different temperaments, instead of constructing miniature synths like this. If that's not possible, there may be some VSTs that can manage it.
-----
I posted the OU assignment off, and wandered around the shops for an hour. Then sat on a bench with ambient music playing into my ears, reading in The Big Issue about hypocritical American attidudes to Islam, and hypocritical British attitudes to suicide. Both are on the rise - the phenomena and the hypocrisy.
I only mention this becase it was the best part of the day. I'm not sure it's a matter of feeling happy or sad - it's more of feeling content or frustrated. Sitting there, I felt content, unpressured, free to enjoy. I can't imagine a heaven of everlasting joy, but I can picture one of peace.
And music.
-----
Happy Birthday, Nick.
The sound was different, somehow clearer and crisper. Not gobsmackingly pure or unusual, but distinctive.
I need to find a way to make Reason or Sonar play in different temperaments, instead of constructing miniature synths like this. If that's not possible, there may be some VSTs that can manage it.
-----
I posted the OU assignment off, and wandered around the shops for an hour. Then sat on a bench with ambient music playing into my ears, reading in The Big Issue about hypocritical American attidudes to Islam, and hypocritical British attitudes to suicide. Both are on the rise - the phenomena and the hypocrisy.
I only mention this becase it was the best part of the day. I'm not sure it's a matter of feeling happy or sad - it's more of feeling content or frustrated. Sitting there, I felt content, unpressured, free to enjoy. I can't imagine a heaven of everlasting joy, but I can picture one of peace.
And music.
-----
Happy Birthday, Nick.
Musique Non-Stop
Last night's forum was a quiet success. I was a bit harsh when I said the speaker was a pompous buffoon - he's just rather...portentious. Which, given the subject matter of 'Murder by Assembly Line: Capitalism and the Holocaust', seems justified.
Two new people turned up - young sociology students who grasped the roots and contradictions of racism immidiately and firmly. Which is more than can be said for most sociologists. I think we'll be seeing them again.
-----
After that, I spent most of the night trying to work out the ratios involved in musical harmony. It gets complex, but boils down to this:
Imagine a vibrating string. Prevent one half (say the left half) vibrating, and the tone goes up by one octave. Seeing as we're concerned only with intevals less than one octave, we can ignore the right side of the string, which always vibrates. Of the right side, there are simple fractions describing how much of it does *not* vibrate.
Unison: 0
Minor 2nd: 1/24
Major 2nd: 1/8
Minor 3rd: 1/5
Major 3rd: 1/4
4th: 1/3
Diminished 5th: 2/5
5th: 1/2
Minor 6th: 3/5
Major 6th: 2/3
Minor 7th: 4/5
Major 7th: 7/8
Octave: 1
Three points. First, this is not the usual way of representing the ratios, but I find it clearer. Second, this describes the 'Just Temprement' system, which is not the system actually used in the modern world - we use an approximation called 'Equal Temprement'.
Third, other ratios are possible. There is no 3/4, which would go somewhere between the Major 6th and the Minor 7th. There is no Augmented 4th, which is slightly lower than the Diminished 5th. In fact there are many unused ratios in that range.
So why am I doing this? Well, it seems to me, that the practical problems involved in Just Temprement, which led to the adoption of Equal Temprement, do not apply to computer generated music. Just Temprement requires the complete retuning of the instrument for a key change - but a computer can calculate retunings in milliseconds.
Equal Temprement means that all keys are 'equally' out of tune. Now that the reasons for it's adoption can be circumvented, we can go back to the earlier system, and have perfectly in tune music, if we wish.
Two new people turned up - young sociology students who grasped the roots and contradictions of racism immidiately and firmly. Which is more than can be said for most sociologists. I think we'll be seeing them again.
-----
After that, I spent most of the night trying to work out the ratios involved in musical harmony. It gets complex, but boils down to this:
Imagine a vibrating string. Prevent one half (say the left half) vibrating, and the tone goes up by one octave. Seeing as we're concerned only with intevals less than one octave, we can ignore the right side of the string, which always vibrates. Of the right side, there are simple fractions describing how much of it does *not* vibrate.
Unison: 0
Minor 2nd: 1/24
Major 2nd: 1/8
Minor 3rd: 1/5
Major 3rd: 1/4
4th: 1/3
Diminished 5th: 2/5
5th: 1/2
Minor 6th: 3/5
Major 6th: 2/3
Minor 7th: 4/5
Major 7th: 7/8
Octave: 1
Three points. First, this is not the usual way of representing the ratios, but I find it clearer. Second, this describes the 'Just Temprement' system, which is not the system actually used in the modern world - we use an approximation called 'Equal Temprement'.
Third, other ratios are possible. There is no 3/4, which would go somewhere between the Major 6th and the Minor 7th. There is no Augmented 4th, which is slightly lower than the Diminished 5th. In fact there are many unused ratios in that range.
So why am I doing this? Well, it seems to me, that the practical problems involved in Just Temprement, which led to the adoption of Equal Temprement, do not apply to computer generated music. Just Temprement requires the complete retuning of the instrument for a key change - but a computer can calculate retunings in milliseconds.
Equal Temprement means that all keys are 'equally' out of tune. Now that the reasons for it's adoption can be circumvented, we can go back to the earlier system, and have perfectly in tune music, if we wish.
Metropolis
A quiet day, and nothing that I can tie in to a Kraftwerk album title.
I missed the demo. There were about 100,000 there, which in the newspapers should become a grudging 20,000. In my case I'd had less than half an hour's sleep, and was in no fit state to get to the coach, nevermind walk from Hyde Park shouting slogans.
I did manage to do some of the OU assignment. The mark will be rubbish, but I'm allowed to 'default' on one essay - exclude it from the final average - so this will have to be the one.
Yesterday I finished a backing track for 'Systematic Panic', and then decided I didn't like it. Today I came up with an alternative, and only then decided I didn't like it. But the first one may not be so bad. Sigh. It seems my muse allows me one decent period of inspiration per month, and this month it was 'Friend'.
Things to do:
* Get some bloody exercise before you hit 16 stone
* Do your bloody OU work before you have to rush for the deadline
* Have a proper bloody relationship
* Bloody well finish what you start
I missed the demo. There were about 100,000 there, which in the newspapers should become a grudging 20,000. In my case I'd had less than half an hour's sleep, and was in no fit state to get to the coach, nevermind walk from Hyde Park shouting slogans.
I did manage to do some of the OU assignment. The mark will be rubbish, but I'm allowed to 'default' on one essay - exclude it from the final average - so this will have to be the one.
Yesterday I finished a backing track for 'Systematic Panic', and then decided I didn't like it. Today I came up with an alternative, and only then decided I didn't like it. But the first one may not be so bad. Sigh. It seems my muse allows me one decent period of inspiration per month, and this month it was 'Friend'.
Things to do:
* Get some bloody exercise before you hit 16 stone
* Do your bloody OU work before you have to rush for the deadline
* Have a proper bloody relationship
* Bloody well finish what you start
Kraftwerk 2
Kapitano's Law: No matter how busy you are, only sixty minutes out of each day will be useful. The rest of the time might be spent in activity, but that is movement, as opposed to achievement.
You might need to spend an hour traveling on a train so you can have a profitable ten minute conversation - the traveling is necessary to the conversation, but in itself is just marking time. Add to this time spent walking to the station, queing for a ticket, and waiting on the station, and it seems like a lot of investment for a small return. You might learn something interesting in a newspaper, but that is ten interesting seconds in 30 minutes of wading through dross.
The hour of usefulness might not be spent rushing around. You could be working out the solution to something that's puzzled you since childhood, or experiencing a brilliant piece of music for the first time.
This, erm, insight occured to me this morning as I was sitting in the jobcentre. I waited in a que for ten minutes, filled out a form, sat waiting for another hour, and was given another form to take away, fill out, and bring back next week.
There was one moment here that might be considered useful. It took five seconds and was an idea related to research I did the night before on musical modes. I don't think filling out a form with identical answers to an identical form filled out six months ago could be construed as useful.
-----
Nick has written a song for 'Systematic Panic', and sent me a demo. While he's off lending support in a family emergency, I'm struggling to write a backing for him to sing the final version over.
He's used some really wierd chords. And the strange thing is, I used exactly the same kind of chord structure years ago, before I knew you weren't suppose to. Use all the white notes starting on F - why not? Then transpose each note down five semitones, then up four. It's all tonic triads - first Lydian F, then Ionian C and E#. I think.
Most of today's useful minutes were spent, not writing music, but figuring out how to use certain Midi Control Codes so I could write a backing, which I then scrapped.
-----
Of course, it would be nice if *some* useful minutes were spent on Open University work. Seeing as I'm under pressure to attend a major anti-war demo in London tomorrow, which on the one hand is morally impeccable, and on the other takes up far too much time.
A bit like writing today's blog entry. Except for the moral bit.
You might need to spend an hour traveling on a train so you can have a profitable ten minute conversation - the traveling is necessary to the conversation, but in itself is just marking time. Add to this time spent walking to the station, queing for a ticket, and waiting on the station, and it seems like a lot of investment for a small return. You might learn something interesting in a newspaper, but that is ten interesting seconds in 30 minutes of wading through dross.
The hour of usefulness might not be spent rushing around. You could be working out the solution to something that's puzzled you since childhood, or experiencing a brilliant piece of music for the first time.
This, erm, insight occured to me this morning as I was sitting in the jobcentre. I waited in a que for ten minutes, filled out a form, sat waiting for another hour, and was given another form to take away, fill out, and bring back next week.
There was one moment here that might be considered useful. It took five seconds and was an idea related to research I did the night before on musical modes. I don't think filling out a form with identical answers to an identical form filled out six months ago could be construed as useful.
-----
Nick has written a song for 'Systematic Panic', and sent me a demo. While he's off lending support in a family emergency, I'm struggling to write a backing for him to sing the final version over.
He's used some really wierd chords. And the strange thing is, I used exactly the same kind of chord structure years ago, before I knew you weren't suppose to. Use all the white notes starting on F - why not? Then transpose each note down five semitones, then up four. It's all tonic triads - first Lydian F, then Ionian C and E#. I think.
Most of today's useful minutes were spent, not writing music, but figuring out how to use certain Midi Control Codes so I could write a backing, which I then scrapped.
-----
Of course, it would be nice if *some* useful minutes were spent on Open University work. Seeing as I'm under pressure to attend a major anti-war demo in London tomorrow, which on the one hand is morally impeccable, and on the other takes up far too much time.
A bit like writing today's blog entry. Except for the moral bit.
Kraftwerk
As usual, I have given all my attention and time to my own projects, and left the work I'm supposed to be doing till the last moment. There's the first major assignment for the OU course due in on the 22nd, and I've only read parts of the coursebook. So, that now has priority.
Nick is writing a song for 'Systematic Panic', but I haven't heard back from him yet - about that or 'Friend'.
H texted me to say he got my messages, but couldn't respond because he was out of credit. Now he says he can't meet at the weekend, because he's on a short course in bloody Pembrookshire. He is a very busy man, and his reasons are allways plausible. I just can't help wondering if he's avoiding me.
I've been meaning to contact the jobcentre to find out exactly where the hell I stand - which category of 'jobseeker' I'm now in, and what they intend to do about it. If they decide what I really need an 'Intensive Jobsearch Programme' they can go fuck themselves. I don't have the time or the patience for 9 hours a day of that bullshit.
What else? About a year ago I taught myself the rudiments of chord theory. Now I'm trying to go beyond that. There are in principle 27 possible triads, but in practice only 8 of these are generally used. However, there can be up to 7 notes in a chord - any more and the extra notes would be in unison with the first 7, so wouldn't 'count'. Things get a bit complicated in the 4-7 range, with some notes shifting into unison or dischord when sharpened or flattened. Anyway, more on this when I have some of that 'time' stuff we used to have so much of.
'Last Temptation of Christ' is on tonight. Dreadfully dull film as I recall, but I'm recording it anyway. Compare and contrast: 'Last Temptation of Christ' - boring and controversial. 'The Passion of the Christ' - watchable and crap.
Nick is writing a song for 'Systematic Panic', but I haven't heard back from him yet - about that or 'Friend'.
H texted me to say he got my messages, but couldn't respond because he was out of credit. Now he says he can't meet at the weekend, because he's on a short course in bloody Pembrookshire. He is a very busy man, and his reasons are allways plausible. I just can't help wondering if he's avoiding me.
I've been meaning to contact the jobcentre to find out exactly where the hell I stand - which category of 'jobseeker' I'm now in, and what they intend to do about it. If they decide what I really need an 'Intensive Jobsearch Programme' they can go fuck themselves. I don't have the time or the patience for 9 hours a day of that bullshit.
What else? About a year ago I taught myself the rudiments of chord theory. Now I'm trying to go beyond that. There are in principle 27 possible triads, but in practice only 8 of these are generally used. However, there can be up to 7 notes in a chord - any more and the extra notes would be in unison with the first 7, so wouldn't 'count'. Things get a bit complicated in the 4-7 range, with some notes shifting into unison or dischord when sharpened or flattened. Anyway, more on this when I have some of that 'time' stuff we used to have so much of.
'Last Temptation of Christ' is on tonight. Dreadfully dull film as I recall, but I'm recording it anyway. Compare and contrast: 'Last Temptation of Christ' - boring and controversial. 'The Passion of the Christ' - watchable and crap.
Man Machine
I have a complete first draft for 'Friend'. This is what it looks like at the moment:
Intro:
What you see
Is all there is to me
What you see
Is what you get for free
What you get
Is what you had at the outset
What you get
Is everything i regret
Verse 1:
I...have everything i need
Except a reason to live, and
I...have the money to buy
But no reason to try
You...say you've nothing to give
So there's nothing i can take, and
You...have no reason to care
And that's what we can share
Chorus:
I need a friend
I need a helping hand
I'm not looking for a one night stand
I need a break
I need time
I don't need you to be mine
Verse 2:
When...when i look at myself
I don't know who I am, and
Then...i go out in the night
For a dance and a fight
Sometimes...when I sit on my own
I wonder what went wrong
Sometimes...i just want it to end
That's when i need a friend
It'll need some rewriting, and restructuring. In the meantime, Nick and I are collabbing on 'Systematic Panic' for Songfight, and maybe on a sidefight. For the former, he does what he does best - writing and singing - and I get to do what I do best - composing and mastering.
SM's computer worked okay for a record breaking two weeks. I'm going to take a look at the blasted thing, to see if it can be upgraded with bits from one of the university's old Dell machines. Or rather, whether his RAM, hard disk and peripherals can be transplaneted into a Dell 450.
Intro:
What you see
Is all there is to me
What you see
Is what you get for free
What you get
Is what you had at the outset
What you get
Is everything i regret
Verse 1:
I...have everything i need
Except a reason to live, and
I...have the money to buy
But no reason to try
You...say you've nothing to give
So there's nothing i can take, and
You...have no reason to care
And that's what we can share
Chorus:
I need a friend
I need a helping hand
I'm not looking for a one night stand
I need a break
I need time
I don't need you to be mine
Verse 2:
When...when i look at myself
I don't know who I am, and
Then...i go out in the night
For a dance and a fight
Sometimes...when I sit on my own
I wonder what went wrong
Sometimes...i just want it to end
That's when i need a friend
It'll need some rewriting, and restructuring. In the meantime, Nick and I are collabbing on 'Systematic Panic' for Songfight, and maybe on a sidefight. For the former, he does what he does best - writing and singing - and I get to do what I do best - composing and mastering.
SM's computer worked okay for a record breaking two weeks. I'm going to take a look at the blasted thing, to see if it can be upgraded with bits from one of the university's old Dell machines. Or rather, whether his RAM, hard disk and peripherals can be transplaneted into a Dell 450.
Electric Cafe
16 recently broadcast films, captured in MJPEG and lovingly rendered into DivX:
Dark City
In the Company of Men
Kids
Rain Man
Unbreakable
A Clockwork Orange
Bad Lieutenant
Evil Dead
Texas Chainsaw Massacre
The Idiots
Dude, Where's My Car?
Gohatto
Groundhog Day
Short Circuit
The Cheap Detective
Up Pompei!
And to come:
Crimes of Passion
Showgirls
The Last Temptation of Christ
Caberet
Doctor Who and the Daleks
...and various Man from Uncle films. And the Colombo series.
I can't remember the last time I watched an entire programme on television as it was broadcast. Almost everything I see is a recording. Odd how living in the future means living in the past.
Dark City
In the Company of Men
Kids
Rain Man
Unbreakable
A Clockwork Orange
Bad Lieutenant
Evil Dead
Texas Chainsaw Massacre
The Idiots
Dude, Where's My Car?
Gohatto
Groundhog Day
Short Circuit
The Cheap Detective
Up Pompei!
And to come:
Crimes of Passion
Showgirls
The Last Temptation of Christ
Caberet
Doctor Who and the Daleks
...and various Man from Uncle films. And the Colombo series.
I can't remember the last time I watched an entire programme on television as it was broadcast. Almost everything I see is a recording. Odd how living in the future means living in the past.
The Mix
Four hours ago I sat down to finish the lyrics of the first K Twins song in ages - working title 'Friend'. Now, I have no further lyrics, but I do have a crashing, bleeping, squelching backing track for it.
If it sounds horrible tomorrow I shall scream.
And now that it's half past five in the morning, I shall get myself a cup of hot chocolate, climb into bed, and sleep till at least midday.
If it sounds horrible tomorrow I shall scream.
And now that it's half past five in the morning, I shall get myself a cup of hot chocolate, climb into bed, and sleep till at least midday.
Autobahn
The Himalayan snow is melting. There's a giant hole in the ozone layer above Anarctica, and the atmosphere is full of the wrong kind of greenhouse gasses. The gulf stream is slowing down. The food chain is full of toxins.
We haven't forgotten Bhopal and Chernobyl either. AIDS in Africa, and TB in New York for christ's sake. Oh, and there's an asteroid on collision course with earth, but no one seems worried about that one. Maybe they're too busy being terrified of terrorists.
There doesn't seem much point in trying, does there? I give you a toast: To the future.
We haven't forgotten Bhopal and Chernobyl either. AIDS in Africa, and TB in New York for christ's sake. Oh, and there's an asteroid on collision course with earth, but no one seems worried about that one. Maybe they're too busy being terrified of terrorists.
There doesn't seem much point in trying, does there? I give you a toast: To the future.
Computer World
Quite a productive day so far. I picked up 3 computers from the university's 'Redundant Equpiment Department', which is a warehouse with about a hundred Dell 450s in big stacks. It seems the university has finally decided to get some up to date equipment.
£90 for three old but functional computers, plus keyboards and mouses, and a monitor thrown in free. Not a bad deal. The keyboards must have bred on the way home - there's 4 of them now.
I've canibalised one to upgrade another, and the third to be sold at cost to JS - probably to be canibalised itself. Oh, and we could use a backup laser printer, so...probably back to the warehouse soon.
I'm living in a house with 11 computers.
£90 for three old but functional computers, plus keyboards and mouses, and a monitor thrown in free. Not a bad deal. The keyboards must have bred on the way home - there's 4 of them now.
I've canibalised one to upgrade another, and the third to be sold at cost to JS - probably to be canibalised itself. Oh, and we could use a backup laser printer, so...probably back to the warehouse soon.
I'm living in a house with 11 computers.
Low to Heroes
I spent about 90 minutes on IRC with Nick. It cheered me up greatly - prattling about music, computers, television, the Da Vinci code and work. I really did feel like killing myself a few days ago - I probably wouldn't have done it, but I still felt like it. How strange that the difference between happiness and self destruction is time spent with a friend.
We're loosely set to collaborate on the next songfight - his lyrics and voice, my instruments and production. He is very sensibly trying to get back into the habit of sleeping at night. I on the other hand...am not very sensible.
There's a backlog of films to be DivXed on this computer, and another backlog of DivXed films to be burned to DVD on the laptop. Plus a third backlog of TV serials to be edited and burned on a third computer, and a load of recorded radio shows to be edited on the DAB computer. So I've made a start on the first two of these.
Tomorrow (later today) I've got some more computers to pick up second hand. Trust me, it will all make sense eventually.
I'm sort of tierd, but don't feel like sleeping. What I would really like to do is drink a cup of tea and watch a Babylon 5 recording or two. Seeing as I suppose I am unemployed again (as opposed to merely unoccupied), I may as well enjoy it.
We're loosely set to collaborate on the next songfight - his lyrics and voice, my instruments and production. He is very sensibly trying to get back into the habit of sleeping at night. I on the other hand...am not very sensible.
There's a backlog of films to be DivXed on this computer, and another backlog of DivXed films to be burned to DVD on the laptop. Plus a third backlog of TV serials to be edited and burned on a third computer, and a load of recorded radio shows to be edited on the DAB computer. So I've made a start on the first two of these.
Tomorrow (later today) I've got some more computers to pick up second hand. Trust me, it will all make sense eventually.
I'm sort of tierd, but don't feel like sleeping. What I would really like to do is drink a cup of tea and watch a Babylon 5 recording or two. Seeing as I suppose I am unemployed again (as opposed to merely unoccupied), I may as well enjoy it.
The Low Symphony
Okay, I'm still here and it's the old one-day-at-a-time routine. And it's like wading through treacle. Tonight there's a forum on the industrial aspect of the holocaust. Interesting subject but I really don't want to go. It's depressing, and I happen to know the speaker - he's an expert but a pompous buffoon. H hasn't got back to me - I'll try to arrange a meetup by text message. Where's a good friend when you need one?
-----
EDIT:
I've just realised two things. First, the forum is next week, not tonight. Second, I'm starting to sound like Richard Geefe.
Geefe was a Chris Morris character in the early 90s. He wrote a series of articles in the Observer chronicling the countdown to his suicide. It was a spoof of journalists who write about their fights with serious disease and terminal illnesses. I definately don't want to sound like that. Though weblogs are almost by definition self absorbed. I'm tempted to delete the last few posts, but the other promise I made was not to delete anything I'd posted.
-----
EDIT:
I've just realised two things. First, the forum is next week, not tonight. Second, I'm starting to sound like Richard Geefe.
Geefe was a Chris Morris character in the early 90s. He wrote a series of articles in the Observer chronicling the countdown to his suicide. It was a spoof of journalists who write about their fights with serious disease and terminal illnesses. I definately don't want to sound like that. Though weblogs are almost by definition self absorbed. I'm tempted to delete the last few posts, but the other promise I made was not to delete anything I'd posted.
No Title 2
It helped, somewhat, just to write that down a few hours ago. To tell someone about it. I'm not exactly happy now, and there's still tomorrow to get through. But what I feel the need for now is a friend, not an escape. I might be able to cope with living in my own head, even if I can't cope with living in this world.
I've actually got half a song written about it now. With luck, I'll get it finished before I sleep tonight.
Nick? I almost deleted the previous entry - I didn't want to burden you with my emotional state. The song will be for you.
I've actually got half a song written about it now. With luck, I'll get it finished before I sleep tonight.
Nick? I almost deleted the previous entry - I didn't want to burden you with my emotional state. The song will be for you.
No Title
I did promise that I'd be honest. And I do try to keep any promise I make. Alrght, here goes.
I'm feeling suicidal. It's nothing new - I've lived with periodic bouts of dispair and suicidal thoughts for as long as I can remember. Usually it's in the late winter, and I've been through it enough times to know the signs and the pattern.
There's only been three occasions when I've actually tried to kill myself, and even then it was more an act of frustration that self destruction. If I really wanted to die, I think I would have been dead on the first attempt.
I'm very difficult to live with at the moment. Sometimes hypercritical of others and myself, sometimes slumped in a chair with no motive to do anything, sometimes driven by a sense of duty to fulful obligations. And sometimes there are odd hours of motivation when I can become absorbed in some task - like writing this entry.
In the past I've used antidepressants, psychotherapy and sex as treatment. I've used music and study to keep my mind occupied, to keep from drifting into a tearfully resentful state. But it's only intermittantly successful.
To die would be such an easy escape. From all the moral obligations that I can't jettison, from all the pointless pressures and frustrations. But just at the moment I can't do it - call it cowardice or self preservation or will to live or whatever you like.
Each time I rack my brains to find a way out of this state. It's been this way since probably before puberty, and each time I just somehow wade through it, dropping out of courses, losing friends, throwing away chances. There must be a way out. There must be some way out.
I'm feeling suicidal. It's nothing new - I've lived with periodic bouts of dispair and suicidal thoughts for as long as I can remember. Usually it's in the late winter, and I've been through it enough times to know the signs and the pattern.
There's only been three occasions when I've actually tried to kill myself, and even then it was more an act of frustration that self destruction. If I really wanted to die, I think I would have been dead on the first attempt.
I'm very difficult to live with at the moment. Sometimes hypercritical of others and myself, sometimes slumped in a chair with no motive to do anything, sometimes driven by a sense of duty to fulful obligations. And sometimes there are odd hours of motivation when I can become absorbed in some task - like writing this entry.
In the past I've used antidepressants, psychotherapy and sex as treatment. I've used music and study to keep my mind occupied, to keep from drifting into a tearfully resentful state. But it's only intermittantly successful.
To die would be such an easy escape. From all the moral obligations that I can't jettison, from all the pointless pressures and frustrations. But just at the moment I can't do it - call it cowardice or self preservation or will to live or whatever you like.
Each time I rack my brains to find a way out of this state. It's been this way since probably before puberty, and each time I just somehow wade through it, dropping out of courses, losing friends, throwing away chances. There must be a way out. There must be some way out.
Taste in men
H reminds me of Stuart. Both highly intelligent men who has good humanitarian principles in their youth, which they compromised as they 'matured'.
Selling out doesn't make a good man bad, though it does make him less passionate. It's just something most good people do to remain sane.
The difference between the two is that Stuart didn't realise he'd ever sold out. He just drifted into thinking he could improve the world by being kind and friendly - in that overbearing way he had. Lifestyle politics, we call it.
H is perfectly aware that he's given up on the environmentalist causes of his earlier years, and he doesn't try to justify it on scientific or ethical grounds. He just stopped fighting because he didn't have the strength anymore. And because of that, I respect him a hell of a lot more than I respected Stuart.
I can't sell out my politics - though I deliberately don't write about them much in this blog. It's not because I'm especially strong or rightous - I'm not. I just couldn't live with myself if I gave up.
They share a social class, a gentle tactility, and a certain forced jocularity. Neither understood that I don't need them to laugh at my jokes.
Stuart was an alchoholic and an emotional fraud - he was a manipulator and a bully and living with him was the biggest mistake of my life. H is just...someone who's company I enjoy a lot, and who I really wish were here right now, so we could cuddle silently for minutes at a time.
Selling out doesn't make a good man bad, though it does make him less passionate. It's just something most good people do to remain sane.
The difference between the two is that Stuart didn't realise he'd ever sold out. He just drifted into thinking he could improve the world by being kind and friendly - in that overbearing way he had. Lifestyle politics, we call it.
H is perfectly aware that he's given up on the environmentalist causes of his earlier years, and he doesn't try to justify it on scientific or ethical grounds. He just stopped fighting because he didn't have the strength anymore. And because of that, I respect him a hell of a lot more than I respected Stuart.
I can't sell out my politics - though I deliberately don't write about them much in this blog. It's not because I'm especially strong or rightous - I'm not. I just couldn't live with myself if I gave up.
They share a social class, a gentle tactility, and a certain forced jocularity. Neither understood that I don't need them to laugh at my jokes.
Stuart was an alchoholic and an emotional fraud - he was a manipulator and a bully and living with him was the biggest mistake of my life. H is just...someone who's company I enjoy a lot, and who I really wish were here right now, so we could cuddle silently for minutes at a time.
Method/Madness
All the music I make comes from technical challenges. To use a muted strummed electric guitar, to make a track where the rhymical backbone is played on congas, to make a dub reggae track, to become familliar with this vocoder, to find out how to make that synth chord sound etc.
Sometimes I chose one or more tracks by other musicians, and the challenge is to use them as springboards - to produce something 'in the vein of' and 'inspired by' their finished product. The 'inspiration' track at the moment is Pink Floyd's Shine On You Crazy Diamond.
Here's an arbitrary challenge. There's two fims on tonight that I might watch - Tomorrow Never Dies and I Know What You Did Last Summer. Incorporate samples from one or both of these into the 'diamond' track.
I don't know what I'm going to do with this track. Maybe take two weeks over it, and submit it for next week's SongFight. Maybe make it a K Twins song - though I don't think it's within our 'vision'.
Ah well. Anything to avoid doing the actual work that I have to do.
-----
I spent 5 hours today with JS and his sickly computer. It now works a bit faster than before, but it's tricky to install antivirus software from a CD when the virus disables the CD drive.
However, we had breakfast at his favourite greasy spoon - best fry-up I've had in years - and took a stroll around the art gallery/museum/communuity centre/theatre where he works. With luck I'll be on the list of guest speakers at art forums in a month or so.
That computer is probably my final official work as selfemployed computer technician. The scheme finishes today, and I have absolutely no wish to continue on my own. I'm a bit sick of watching windows reinstall every few days.
The university are selling off their old 450MHz Pentiums for £30 each, and I've earmarked two to pick up on Monday. One is on behalf of JS. If I'm feeling especially greedy, I may pick up a monitor too.
-----
Dave Allen died today. I saw his comedy in the early 80s, and I remember people being genuinely outraged by it. Making fun of the catholic church, spoofing film cliches, and picking apart the claims of advertisers. At the time, I found it quite refreshing - I must have been all of 10 years old.
In the 90s, it all seemed quaint and harmless. Now it's probably shocking again.
Sometimes I chose one or more tracks by other musicians, and the challenge is to use them as springboards - to produce something 'in the vein of' and 'inspired by' their finished product. The 'inspiration' track at the moment is Pink Floyd's Shine On You Crazy Diamond.
Here's an arbitrary challenge. There's two fims on tonight that I might watch - Tomorrow Never Dies and I Know What You Did Last Summer. Incorporate samples from one or both of these into the 'diamond' track.
I don't know what I'm going to do with this track. Maybe take two weeks over it, and submit it for next week's SongFight. Maybe make it a K Twins song - though I don't think it's within our 'vision'.
Ah well. Anything to avoid doing the actual work that I have to do.
-----
I spent 5 hours today with JS and his sickly computer. It now works a bit faster than before, but it's tricky to install antivirus software from a CD when the virus disables the CD drive.
However, we had breakfast at his favourite greasy spoon - best fry-up I've had in years - and took a stroll around the art gallery/museum/communuity centre/theatre where he works. With luck I'll be on the list of guest speakers at art forums in a month or so.
That computer is probably my final official work as selfemployed computer technician. The scheme finishes today, and I have absolutely no wish to continue on my own. I'm a bit sick of watching windows reinstall every few days.
The university are selling off their old 450MHz Pentiums for £30 each, and I've earmarked two to pick up on Monday. One is on behalf of JS. If I'm feeling especially greedy, I may pick up a monitor too.
-----
Dave Allen died today. I saw his comedy in the early 80s, and I remember people being genuinely outraged by it. Making fun of the catholic church, spoofing film cliches, and picking apart the claims of advertisers. At the time, I found it quite refreshing - I must have been all of 10 years old.
In the 90s, it all seemed quaint and harmless. Now it's probably shocking again.
Read and Write
Jasper Carrot once said that you know you're getting old when you walk out of a record shop with a stack of albums, and the whole lot cost you a fiver. Well, today I bought 4 CDs, and spent £4.99. Two of 80s synthpop, and two of 90s house.
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H is busy tonight - some open evening at the school where he teaches. I could do with his conversation and hugs about now. We might get to meet at the weekend.
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I've read a bit of the George Reisman material I found yesterday. He writes about precapitalist societies, by which he means societies that use money, and function mainly by trade, but don't have employers.
The idea is that workers produce commodities, which they sell for money. This money is not wages, because there are no employers to pay wages, so it must be profit. Reisman then identifies profit with the marxist notion of 'surplus value'. He claims that there is no money cost in production, therefore there are no overheads to offset the profit from 100%.
There's a few small problems here. First his description of what it means to be 'precapitalist' is one narrow possibility among many. He imagines workers producing what they can, selling it for cash, and using the money to buy what other workers have produced. He's describing a form of acephalous capitalism, where no worker actually consumes what they produce.
Second, he brushes aside the possibility that the concept of profit is a capitalist one, that cannot be grafted onto a precapitalist society.
Third, he's completely wrong to conflate Marx's 'surplus value' with his 'profit'. Marx's surplus value is the monetary value added to raw materials by being transformed into a commodity with has a use, and therefore a demand. It is (as I understand the term) a result of production, not selling.
Fourth, the idea that there can be a money society with no money costs for raw material is absurd.
There's 1140 pages of this stuff.
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As a teenager, it was my ambition to become a writer. I wrote a novella when I was 19 - all about growing up gay in 80s Britain, aliens from outer space, and the end of the world. Well, it was, in no partucular order. A teenage gay science fiction apocalyptic novel, called The Humana Project.
I showed it to a local published writer. She was impressed by it - I was rather pleased about that. I lost the files and the printouts sometime in my mid 20s - something I rather regret now.
There was a second novel which I only wrote two chapters of - an untitled murder mystery set on a mars colony. I've just found a printout of the first chapter - even though I know what happens next, when I read it I still want to know what happens next.
I got into a bad long term relationship when I was 24, and all aspirations to be an author got shelved. Shelved in the bin, that is. I've got no shortage of regrets, but this is a big one. I was quite a good writer - immature, but with ideas and a certain way with words.
The bad relationship eventually got me into a prison cell. In jail I put together a Babylon-5-type plot about political intrigue in a space station - yes, still the science fiction theme. That was eight years ago, and I've never had the courage to start work on it.
-----
H is busy tonight - some open evening at the school where he teaches. I could do with his conversation and hugs about now. We might get to meet at the weekend.
-----
I've read a bit of the George Reisman material I found yesterday. He writes about precapitalist societies, by which he means societies that use money, and function mainly by trade, but don't have employers.
The idea is that workers produce commodities, which they sell for money. This money is not wages, because there are no employers to pay wages, so it must be profit. Reisman then identifies profit with the marxist notion of 'surplus value'. He claims that there is no money cost in production, therefore there are no overheads to offset the profit from 100%.
There's a few small problems here. First his description of what it means to be 'precapitalist' is one narrow possibility among many. He imagines workers producing what they can, selling it for cash, and using the money to buy what other workers have produced. He's describing a form of acephalous capitalism, where no worker actually consumes what they produce.
Second, he brushes aside the possibility that the concept of profit is a capitalist one, that cannot be grafted onto a precapitalist society.
Third, he's completely wrong to conflate Marx's 'surplus value' with his 'profit'. Marx's surplus value is the monetary value added to raw materials by being transformed into a commodity with has a use, and therefore a demand. It is (as I understand the term) a result of production, not selling.
Fourth, the idea that there can be a money society with no money costs for raw material is absurd.
There's 1140 pages of this stuff.
-----
As a teenager, it was my ambition to become a writer. I wrote a novella when I was 19 - all about growing up gay in 80s Britain, aliens from outer space, and the end of the world. Well, it was, in no partucular order. A teenage gay science fiction apocalyptic novel, called The Humana Project.
I showed it to a local published writer. She was impressed by it - I was rather pleased about that. I lost the files and the printouts sometime in my mid 20s - something I rather regret now.
There was a second novel which I only wrote two chapters of - an untitled murder mystery set on a mars colony. I've just found a printout of the first chapter - even though I know what happens next, when I read it I still want to know what happens next.
I got into a bad long term relationship when I was 24, and all aspirations to be an author got shelved. Shelved in the bin, that is. I've got no shortage of regrets, but this is a big one. I was quite a good writer - immature, but with ideas and a certain way with words.
The bad relationship eventually got me into a prison cell. In jail I put together a Babylon-5-type plot about political intrigue in a space station - yes, still the science fiction theme. That was eight years ago, and I've never had the courage to start work on it.
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