Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Big Brother
I once watched one of those nightly episodes.
It ended with a row in the main room, a cacophony of noise. The noise eventually dies down and in turn everyone makes a measured closing argument, succinctly summing up their point of view, yet hinting towards empathy with those they'd been arguing most vociferously against.
It was then I was made aware of someone whistling 'ten green bottles' in the back of the soundtrack, and I wondered if this hadn't been there throughout the episode.
The talking stopped and the camera showed every one's face in turn. All were seemingly deep in contemplation, trying to make pull some meaning from the tune, as was I.
The song obviously eluded to the format of the show and their own place within it, I wondered if this was what troubled them. But there was more, the whistling tinged with a deeper sadness, the falling bottles was the inevitable death of everyone they knew and all they loved, their own mortality falling with the last green bottle.
The whistling slows for the final bars.. then silence, a perfectly timed pause in which I think I can hear God sigh, before the familiar techno beat of the theme tune fades in.
Poor fuckers, I thought.
(0) comments
It ended with a row in the main room, a cacophony of noise. The noise eventually dies down and in turn everyone makes a measured closing argument, succinctly summing up their point of view, yet hinting towards empathy with those they'd been arguing most vociferously against.
It was then I was made aware of someone whistling 'ten green bottles' in the back of the soundtrack, and I wondered if this hadn't been there throughout the episode.
The talking stopped and the camera showed every one's face in turn. All were seemingly deep in contemplation, trying to make pull some meaning from the tune, as was I.
The song obviously eluded to the format of the show and their own place within it, I wondered if this was what troubled them. But there was more, the whistling tinged with a deeper sadness, the falling bottles was the inevitable death of everyone they knew and all they loved, their own mortality falling with the last green bottle.
The whistling slows for the final bars.. then silence, a perfectly timed pause in which I think I can hear God sigh, before the familiar techno beat of the theme tune fades in.
Poor fuckers, I thought.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Music
I now have a soundcard and a microphone. I started recording myself playing and humming and la-la-la-ing.
Unfortunately I seem to simultaneously have every pop song ever written in my head.
My natural approach to this problem is to force originality, I expected to start with a serial composition with a varying time signature following the digits of pi. But then I thought about what I would like to listen to, and it all had some element of simplicity and repetition. I guess familiarity isn't too bad either, so I shouldn't worry.
When I play my gig. Will be mostly me with a guitar and a laptop. I think tempo and dynamics on the macro level is critical, but it's hard for me to think about now. Per song it's easier to imagine. Crescendo is an old trick in the book. I imagine one song taking this form... at the apex I would expect to be in some sort of controlled fit. I would like to smash up an MacBook live on stage. As the noise fades, I would like the crowd to start hurling vulgar insults at me, again in crescendo of both volume and obscurity.
(0) comments
Unfortunately I seem to simultaneously have every pop song ever written in my head.
My natural approach to this problem is to force originality, I expected to start with a serial composition with a varying time signature following the digits of pi. But then I thought about what I would like to listen to, and it all had some element of simplicity and repetition. I guess familiarity isn't too bad either, so I shouldn't worry.
When I play my gig. Will be mostly me with a guitar and a laptop. I think tempo and dynamics on the macro level is critical, but it's hard for me to think about now. Per song it's easier to imagine. Crescendo is an old trick in the book. I imagine one song taking this form... at the apex I would expect to be in some sort of controlled fit. I would like to smash up an MacBook live on stage. As the noise fades, I would like the crowd to start hurling vulgar insults at me, again in crescendo of both volume and obscurity.
Online Social Networking
I can't face Facebook or MySpace
I'm a computer programmer, so I wrote my own social network site.
It's called "iPersona"
I don't have any friends in my network, in fact I'm the only person on the whole site. I expect this will always be the case. Once, I created another account for an imaginary character I was going to invent. I invited them to be my friend, but they just ignored me, or maybe the notification system wasn't working properly and they never got the invite. If they agreed to be my friend I was going to visit their page and say "Thanks for the add".
(1) comments
I'm a computer programmer, so I wrote my own social network site.
It's called "iPersona"
I don't have any friends in my network, in fact I'm the only person on the whole site. I expect this will always be the case. Once, I created another account for an imaginary character I was going to invent. I invited them to be my friend, but they just ignored me, or maybe the notification system wasn't working properly and they never got the invite. If they agreed to be my friend I was going to visit their page and say "Thanks for the add".
