The Light of Day

Happy 7/4!

Wow, the internet is dead today. But I guess that’s to be expected, since most of the blogs I read are by Americans, and today is the day we’re all out celebrating our liberation from those silly British folks, what with their nasty teeth and quaint figures of speech.

This is only “pretend sarcasm”, of course, since the American Revolution is one of the historical events that I actually feel happy about (with my relatively limited “just enough to get through school” awareness of history). But it would be funny if we were actually thinking about England at all during this celebration, since they’re the ones that should be liberating themselves from us. We, on the other hand, need to focus on liberating ourselves from something else: oil.

It’s a serious, hard-core, textbook example of addiction. I’ve heard projections of gasoline reaching $7.00/gallon by the end of the year. And what are people going to do? Are they going to actually reduce their driving, or are they going to consider it a necessity to continue to travel the same number of miles regardless of how little sense it makes? Do they understand that this is the equivalent of everyone in the world getting a pay cut?

It isn’t just that individuals can’t afford it — society can’t afford it. Those of you at the top, enjoy your priveleged position while it lasts. When your billion dollar business is suddenly splitting at the seams because your minimum-wage slaves can’t even make it to work anymore, maybe you’ll start to realize this is your problem too. Sure, you’ve got enough stashed away to afford the gas, but unfortunately the truck drivers couldn’t afford to keep hauling it to a station anywhere near you. Have fun with your “money” now. (Even if we get let off relatively easy, my take on it will be cynical; financial analysts have complex mathematical models to determine the optimum number of lives a CEO can ruin without ruining his own.)

We can each try to restore normality for ourselves in the short run by raising our own prices, but everyone else will have the same “solution”, forcing us to raise ours again, escalating the game of “economic chicken”, until we eventually realize that everyone has always been interdependent, and acknowledge that such a short-sighted remedy isn’t a solution at all. We have to smash the needle. We have to go cold turkey.

But how can we have a “wealthy” lifestyle without a car? That’s one of the fundamental, defining symbols of wealth: having a fabulous new car and driving it around everywhere. We’re so blinded by the addiction that we can’t see past this. What’s the point of having more money if we don’t have the wheels to prove it?

I’ve heard that if a frog is tossed into a boiling pot of water, he will jump out and survive; but if he is put into a pot of room-temperature water, and gradually heated to a boiling point, he will stay in it and die. Shame on the experimenters for being such pricks to the frogs, but take heed of the message: if we weren’t already addicted to our cars, and a salesman came along and pitched to us the idea of paying $25,000 for a car, plus another $10,000 in interest, plus $2000 for a warranty, plus $500 to $1000 per year for insurance, plus $40 a year for state registration, plus $20 a year for state inspection, plus any cost of repairs (most of which aren’t covered by the so-called “warranty” — generally $500 for anything important), plus the cost of oil changes and tune-ups every few thousand miles, plus tickets and surcharges for driving too fast or parking in the wrong spot, plus tolls for the expressways, plus quarters for the parking meters… plus, soon, $7.00 for each gallon of gasoline… we would laugh in the salesman’s face and say, “uh, thanks for the ‘offer’, but there’s no fucking way I’m going to bleed money out my ass just to zoom around in some big hunk of metal”. But, because the frog is already in the pot, we’ll take that five-degree temperature increase, and the trickle of blood has somehow become a fountain, and now we’re asking how we wound up on life support.

This isn’t going to go on forever, because some of us are a little smarter than frogs. God bless the early adopters, those of you who make any kind of changes in the right direction, be it tiny cars, hybrid cars, electric cars, hydrogen cars, hypermiling, car-pooling, biking, vacationing at home, moving closer to work, and/or getting a job closer to home. Some people will laugh at you, at first. Then they will copy you. Then they will mark some day on the calendar to remember you, and how you started the ball rolling that got us out of this mess. You, my friends, are the true Americans… even if you’re not American.

Peace and happy 4th!!!

(Ooh, animated GIF… those were the days… of course, if you’re like me, you don’t see it, because your browser rightfully put the animation out of its misery long before you finished reading the post. In that case, you’ll just have to reload the page and boost my Google Analytics stats, I guess.)

Homegrown spectral analyzer

I whipped this spectral analyzer up this weekend. Unfortunately, like everything else coded in Handyland, it doesn’t run in realtime; it has to be rendered as a movie first and then re-synced to the music. I think it’s fun to sit and watch when it’s done, though. Sometimes, if you look hard enough (or sniff enough glue), you can see which peaks correspond to which sounds.

The featured instrumental here is Kid in a Candy Store, from Leave of Absence vol. 1, currently close to being ready for reissue. It was created by slapping a backwards orchestra track onto a drum track, relishing in the serendipity, and then coming up with bass, guitar, and piano bits that would glue it together a little more. This is the music I want playing when the aliens come to pick me up.

Maybe a graphic as simple as this, in combination with lyrics and/or factoids, would lend itself to my earlier idea of using YouTube as an audio player. My only gripe is that I would have to use a workaround if I want the music to be in stereo — at least until YouTube realizes it’s not 1950 anymore.

“Everything tech”: continuing thoughts

I was asked by a faithful reader (where would I be without my faithful reader?) to elaborate on my “low tech/hi tech/everything tech” train of thought. Which I was going to do anyway, but it’s good that the peasants have voted in favor of the king’s will, because I just haven’t been in the mood to behead you folks lately. I know, I know, you’re saying “King Keith has lost his spunk”. Hey, we all grow older. It’s time to move on, man. Besides, this is the age of psychological cruelty. Either catch the wave, or leave your board home, brah.

When I think of an idea that has both specific and general implications, I tend to ramble at length about the general, without actually explaining what it is I’m thinking about in the first place. The general is very important to me, because I want you to run with it — I want you to find your own specific implementations of the general, not necessarily use mine (unless of course you really want to copy me). But if I don’t tell you my specific idea, then I’m not giving you a concrete illustration of the general idea, which would probably help to loosen up your tangled synapses. One little idea which, by itself, any idiot could think of — but which comes with a thousand “potential ideas” attached to it, if you zoom out and ask why it was interesting.

After all this build-up, it will sound really stupid and primitive. But that’s what low tech is, on the surface. Yet, for all its backwardness, it’s something that could not have been done well or cheaply more than about ten years ago. So, yes, it involves the computer. But it requires letting go of some basic assumptions about “what happens outside of the computer” versus “what happens inside the computer”.

After the bazillionth combination of keywords, I found a decent illustration of rear projection on images.google.com. I don’t mean as a type of home entertainment device — those turn up in vast quantity — I mean as an ancient technique for superimposing actors against a fake, moving background, before the advent of chroma keying. The accompanying text for this picture referred to “one of the worst ’street traffic’ rear projection shots I’ve ever seen”, while the image file itself was contradictorily called “sybluescreen.jpg” — just to be sure, had this been blue screened, rather than actually projected behind the car, the horizontal lines behind the windshield wouldn’t appear bent by the glass.

Now, this effect doesn’t exactly look real, as I’m sure you’ve already seen for yourself while watching various old-timey movies. But as someone with an interest in the surreal and experimental, particularly things with a “cartoon-y” or “puppet-y” tinge or texture, it’s not a technique I would run screaming from.

Today, the sane way to composite video elements — live action with live action, live action with animation, animation with animation — is to use computer software to merge your layers together. You wouldn’t want to actually use a first movie playing on your LCD monitor as a background, while taking a second movie of yourself manipulating little objects in front of it… yes, physically in front of your monitor… and then perhaps use the resulting movie as a new background, onto which you can add more foreground objects the same way… repeat ad infinitum…

…or WOULD you??

You wouldn’t achieve the same kind of effect. Not even anything close to it. You’d achieve a very different effect, which would be the whole point. And if you did this repeatedly for a while, you’d start to develop a vocabulary of techniques specific to the approach. You would become an expert at a previously non-existent art form.

Like I said, this is just one little example of hi/low tech mix and match.

Come up with your own!

How low tech can be cutting edge

Excuse my, uh, “calligraphy” for a moment.

Ow, ow, ow. *shakes wrists*

I just don’t have the endurance for that anymore.

Anyway, the point isn’t that I have any desire to do a handwritten blog, and I will likely never do that again. But think about how strange it is that we get sentimental for “low tech” or “old tech” things, how there’s always a “golden age” to look back to. But none of that old stuff ceases to exist, or even ceases to be available. If you really want to shoot a movie on 8mm film, you can, though it’ll be a little pricey to get the film and develop it. Not prohibitively, though, if you really want to. Key words there: really want to. The only thing we’re ever truly being sentimental for is the lack of an excuse to be lazy. The fact that we’ve paved all these shortcuts doesn’t mean the shortcut is the only — or best — way.

But what truly makes “low tech” interesting now, is that we’re in this higher tech environment. You can not only shoot 8mm film, if you really want — but you could, if you really want, shoot 8mm film of a person sitting in a Starbucks with a laptop computer, wearing a Trogdor t-shirt. Which you could never do when 8mm was actually a sensible way of preserving memories.

Today, we can run a Mellotron through Autotune. We can sample a cassette. All these things we can do, but just don’t think of doing, because we’ve convinced ourselves that all our old toys have been replaced with new toys. Guess what? All your toys are still there; they may have moved to a higher (more expensive) shelf that you’ll need to climb a little (or get mummy to help) in order to get them down, but they’re still there. You have a shitload of toys. Do you realize how much “play potential” you have afore ye now? Do that “relationship” math again. Five toys is ten potential combinations, six toys is fifteen… and that’s only counting pairs of toys.

Tip: do “relationship math” in your head:
Take the number of people in the room, and imagine that number on the left.
Subtract one, and put the new number on the right. (If 7 is on the left, 6 is on the right.)
Whichever number is even, cut it in half. (Cut that 6 down to a 3.)
Multiply the left number by the right number, and you’re done! (7 x 3 = 21 relationships.)

It’s like this: there you were, in 1980, or 1985 or whatever, saying, “okay, if only I had this and this and this”, and now you’re waking from a deep freeze, realizing, hey, I have this and this and this!! All you’ve lost track of is why you wanted it. Once you remember, you’re all set!

Anyway, there’s a reason I wrote all this. Ask me to elaborate later, and I will. Ask me not to elaborate later, and I will anyway, just to spite you.