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melt her down to make smart bombs
Wednesday, March 12 2003
Freedom fries, freedom bread, and yes, even (for those still in middle school) freedom kisses. It seems the "my country right or wrong" loonies in this country - the ones who happen to be running it, mind you - have found a new way to wrap themselves in the flag - by replacing the word "French" with "freedom" in common American terms. To these people, freedom exists only in the mind of our Glorious Leader. Outside of that, to be free - to choose, for example, not to support a war that is nothing more than a re-election stunt, is to risk having the adjectivized version of your nationality replaced with the word "freedom." As someone mentioned in a signature line on Slashdot, we could solve all of our energy needs by simply attaching Orwell's corpse to a dynamo.
I wonder how long it will be before someone in the administration learns where the Statue of Liberty came from and suggests we either ship the bitch back to France or melt her down to make smart bombs. This would be in keeping with the general spirit of reactions our present administration has had when faced with art: poetry not read, Justice forced into a burqa, and Guernica enshrouded.
Yesterday I finally got around to setting up my analogue studio equipment - makeshift and shoestring as it is. It consists of a four track tape recorder and a dual cassette tape deck, both bought with meager ISP night shift earnings. When last I had this equipment set up, I was living in Los Angeles and had my bedroom set up sort of like a smaller version of this laboratory. Mind you, I'd really prefer doing everything digitally, but I've yet to find any software/hardware combination that is sufficiently responsive. The latency introduced by digitizing drive me crazy.
I was listening to some of the old four track tapes I made back in the day. There's a lot of junk in there - truly horrendous combinations of guitar and, if you want to call it that, singing. I don't remember making a good fraction of it; I think some of those sessions were done under the influence of a lot of drinking alone.
Still, there is some interesting stuff on those tapes and it might be fun to take snippets here and there and splice them together into a sort of ultra-lofi "Day in the Life"-type collage, a grossly-inferior Bee Thousand.
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