Technological life

I love being alive now.

I believe people born around the late seventies are living in a golden age.

We're seeing, quite literally, the *dream* technology... the most strange dreams of our youth and of fiction *actually happening*.

I know slightly younger people who still revel in their tech, but lack the feeling of Magic-Made-Real that I feel when I can buy a fucking full-on X86 PC with 4mb RAM on a FUCKING WATCH for a couple of hundred quid.

OK, so I lost my OnHand PC "breakdancing" in a club in Leamington Spa.

I think that in some twisted sense, that proves my point.

At the moment, I need an auto-tune to fix up a vocal that's almost there, but not quite.

I know Antares Autotune is quite good.

Fire up KazaaLite.

Search for Antares.

Bingo.

It's finished downloaded in the time it's taken to write this post.

Oh, shit, did I just commit software piracy?

Shit.

I'd best go "punish" myself...

Hahar

That'll learn me... the three versions I downloaded were all virussed up and corrupt :D

Fortunately, my PC is ribbed for MY pleasure and banged the files into quarantine straight away...

Other versions will download soon, and in the mean time, I've taken the old fashioned approach of singing the vocals again... in tune this time ;)

I still love the tech :)

aaaaaaaaahahhahaaahhaa

It's late, I'm gonna be trashed tomorrow...

... and you know what?

It doesn't matter!

I have it cleared with my partner that my job for the next two days is to document system extensions and optimisations for HozEng, which I wrote, so I know it inside out, so all I have to do is be able to read text and form sentences and I CAN DO MY JOB WHILE TOTALLY HUNG OVER!

AAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!

Lucky I'm pissed out of my mind and it's starting to get light, eh?

I'd hate to think I was wasting an opportunity like *this*...

:)

PS: I got a working version of Antares Autotune. Hahahahaahahahaahahahah.

End of line

sometimes, at the end of the night, I listen to what I just made.

then I listen to the rest of the current album.

the work-in-progress that I currently have on-the-go.

partially to see how the tracks gel together, mostly to take some kind of glance at how my mind has changed over the past X months.

my mp3 albums are, basically the things that spew out of my head constantly and steadily.

loads of crap, a few diamonds.

and people invariably like the things I thought were crap.

anyway, that's not an issue for now, as I've put that on hold.

so yeah, I finish a track for 3am so I can get to sleep and make a half-hearted attempt at a day's work the next day... THEN, I wind up listening to a couple of album's worth of history to... I dunno... make a check on myself.

make sure my evil is in order.

check the nonesense is consistent, that the hatred is in place and the vitriol flows neatly from node to node.

I wind up just merrily listening to my own past few albums because... fuck it... I like it.

I don't listen to my own shit all day... but I DO listen to my tracks when I have to trek across london, go meet someone, brave the filthy motherfucking public.

it bolsters me, fills me up.

gives me the strength of emotion I need to get through shit.

and yeah, I get wrapped up, I listen to the past few albums and it's 4 or 5am before I know it.

because I like my fucking music.

and drunkenly, violently, diseased and buyer-friendly, I mosh in my seat, bang my head against the screen and imagine the music video I'll some day make featuring me, lit up all holy and furious in neon and blood, grinning and dripping to sound so loud the camera shakes.

i have so many dreams.

i get carried away.

in the music.

so I spose what I'm saying is that I'm outta here for a while... so *make your own*.... jump and dance... scream and shout, mix and cut, play whatever it is makes you scream LOUD.

get carried away in your own fucking music.

be fucking HAPPY with the music in your head.

let it play so loud you can't think straight, so loud you stagger and bump into shit, grin and dance and skip and knock things over.

make things go **bang**.

there's fuck all ELSE for us to do.