The Boss BR-600 is a piece of junk and it cost me a hundred to find that out. It suffers heavily from “Microsoft Syndrome”. Where they know what you want better than you do. The chorus effect loop can’t be turned off, although you can record dry, it always comes through the monitor, and I cannot sing to a choruser. Plus, it has serious other defects, including inability to export a song as a WAV, proprietory file formats, and the mastered final is an analog signal. But I’m stuck with it for a while. See below, I’ll use it to find out which version of my act is strongest. Even the backup function is screwed on that thing, because it exports the file, meaning it takes as long to create it as to play it, and as pointed out, it won’t export songs, only one track at a time. My simplest productions have four tracks.
Trivia. The “Vasa” was the wooden warship that sank in front of the King of Sweden on its maiden voyage. Archeological magazine issued a finding that the ship may have weighed more on one side. Two sets of carpenter’s rulers were recovered from the raised wreck, used by different styles of ship designers. The ship would have had the cannon ports open for the King, put it in the water and there you go. An interesting study in fluid dynamics.
In the same vein, here is a video about building a nuclear submarine. It points out what I never thought on my own, like the guy who’s spent 15 years underwater. The documentary stresses the American-like “just another business” angle and never that the boat is designed to kill a hundred million people in one hour. I was surprised at how much meta-information they presented. Then again, the bad guys know all that by other means.
Examples would be that to build such a boat, you need 600 engineers and draftsmen. The boats are built in series, four at a time. Plasma cutters slice the plate, which looks 7/8ths of an inch thick. It takes ten minutes to test the Rolls Royce reactor. And the sub costs five times more than stated on the contract.
We have a virtual 98 degrees out there, I was indoors most of the day. These are near-record temperatures and a good time to stay put in the shade. Good, because the less I spend here, the more I have for Colorado. That’s who keeps me in line, by the way. That’s who is allowed to review the facts and tell me off to my face. And did I ever catch it this week for not dating women my own age. What can I say, I’ve never found older women attractive that way. Personalities or whatever they got, you want me to lie like other men? What? Oh, trust me, they are lying. I got two brothers, you know.
My thinking is that women are humans first, female second. They don’t confuse me a fraction as much as they think. They never change and never learn from their mistakes (in a social sense). They never grow up, they cling to their fantasies, they dislike it when others get away with what they can’t. I play in a band because that makes me the bad boy. And I get more by accident that you do on purpose. But, that also means I enter old age with no particular skill at long-term boredom. That’s the trade-off and now that I want it, yes, it’s been a struggle.
Planning is part of my daily habits, I’m aware planning isn’t for everyone. But, gee, my plans are so darn interesting and chock full of valuable advice and information. And obviously failure does not bother me. Today I had to extrapolate my future with music and my need to be the world’s oldest bad boy, on paper. In person, I’m actually one heck of a swell guy, say all the world’s greatest women, and I just play the jerk to pick up the doctor’s daughters and such. I’ll, ahem, cut to the chase.
My solo music act is not a matter of learning guitar. I need backing tracks and I hesitate to use the same ones as everybody else, or go midi. Like web pages and jet fighters, midi is a never-ending circus of change and expense. And the one thing midi cannot do right is produce guitar sounds. That’s why your common Karaoke sounds ticky-bop.
It would probably be wise to buy only gear I can carry on a scooter. Changing instruments on stage sends a downer jack-of-all-trades message, so I have to choose carefully. Do I strum to bass and drums, or play bass to rhythm and bass? Like my women, I’m not shooting for perfection but I’ve still got standards. My decision is to create four tunes of each style and ruthlessly critique myself on video.
Medical tests again. I’ve given up keeping track anymore, but I detect a change in the type or purpose. I am now being tested for prevention rather than treatment, a big upvote for me. My profile fits those at risk for things like diabetes and arthritis, so if those happen, it won’t be by surprise like that heart attack. My point is, I must be healthy enough for this shift to a wider spectrum of tests. Ride that bicycle, I say.
And it is time to admit I have a hereditary weight problem. No amount of diet or exercise that my heart permits has done any good in four years. My diet has averaged 1100 calories per day for four years without results, and my recent prescription to cut out all carbs leaves me on a nothing diet with still no results. Time to re-evalute my situation. Question, if I do all the diet things they say work, and they don’t work, what’s left? The diet things they say not to do.
ADDENDUM
The feedback over here says most of us don’t like the “Internet of Things”. But too bad. If you didn’t protest back when it mattered, of course you will get slapped around by the consequences. So you know, there are other markers already available, such as DNA powder that can be mixed with everything from paint to baby powder. There will even be a black market for items hoarded before marking began. The difference is, you would usually know if somebody steals your paint.
RFID is silent and doesn’t require a lab for results. I know a lot of super-mellow men who don’t like protesting anything. We’ll be laughing presently when his type gets home and his civil-servant wife asks him how come he bought two brands of cigarettes last Tuesday. Guys, I’ve found there is no middle ground, either you were against invasion of privacy your whole life, or you were supporting it if only by silence and complacency. And it is far too late to change sides.
The internetwork of products is only the beginning. Enforcement is not far behind. One day, maybe soon, an alarm will ring at the police station before you reach for your third beer. The bar stool detected your body weight. Your license tag reported the time you arrived. Your conviction will arrive by e-mail. Don’t even think of driving to work next day, your license is revoked and your car won’t start. It’s all a laugh until it happens to you, or more likely, to your grandson. The rewards for stupidity are often delayed so late in life, but they are myriad.
Nor will it matter that you intended to leave your car at the bar and take a cab. Or that the next morning you had to get to a hospital, not to work. See, when most people are asked to take a stand on privacy, they selfishly assume the topic is their privacy when in fact it is everybody else’s. And now they will suffer the consequences when others don’t respect them back.
Madonna – for setting a bad example
Woody Allen – if he hasn’t already
Eric Clapton – enough is enough
Elvis Presley – this time for real
Steve Fosset – because he’s only missing
