Archives for 2003
This morning i downloaded the newly released iTunes for Windows.
Now, we already know my feelings on MP3 exchanges, which can easy be extrapolated to P2P networks, but i’ve yet to form an opinion on iTunes, other than that nothing will ever truly render purchasing a physical album obsolete for me. I need to open the case, touch the liner notes, and remember how and when each scratch and crack on the disc and case were acquired. For me, consuming music is as much tactile as it is aural … i need to hear, but also to touch (which is probably why i like buying sheet music to my favorite albums so much; playing along is the ultimate tactile accompaniment to sound).
A service like iTunes does have its benefits, though (i’ll mention here that i’ve never even seen the Mac version; for a more comparative discussion, see Benjy). For example, tonight i was putting together a rehearsal disc for the Treblemakers and thought for a second that i hadn’t actually borrowed one of the source discs that included two that i don’t own. on it. I was about to tear apart my room apart looking for them when i realized that both songs would probably be on iTunes and, sure enough, both were available for just $.99.
iTunes will never be more than that to me — just a quick resource for making mix tapes. In a way, it is something i’ve dreamed of ever since i sat by the stereo, anxiously awaiting the chance to tape a new favorite song; it is a standing resource, a library of music that’s available at a moment’s notice. However, between my need for a tactile music experience, my uber-completist CD collecting behavior, and the fact that it currently has nary a song by Madonna or Ani DiFranco, i can’t say that i find it indispensable.
Maybe if it had streaming radio… (as if i don’t have enough things to listen to here already). On that note, TDavid has some praise for another new application, Rhapsody. If your a PC music fiend who doesn’t mind shelling out for the priveledge of listening, it seems worth looking into.
Once you have more than four hundred CDs sitting on the shelf staring at you on a daily basis, it becomes difficult almost to a point of abject hopelessness to locate your single mis-cased White Album disc 1.
The alarm rang at 6:20 to give me a warning shot — two more hours of sleep, it was to announce, and i would hit the hour button twice and then fall asleep curled up at the foot of the bed. However, when i reached the foot of the bed i couldn’t even begin to recall what the order the buttons were in, and every time i though i had the “set alarm” button under my thumb i instead had the “sleep” button, which, as near as i can tell, just blares talk radio higher than the current volume setting for 60 seconds. I’m not sure what that has to do with sleep, but eventually i just yanked the plug out of the well and decided to go it alone. Sleep, that is.
Of course, i am far from alone, because October is our house’s official Pest Month. Subsequently, i was thoroughly (and with much alarm)awoken by the current pest troika. First, i was nudged towards consciousness by squirrels performing rodent ballet on my roof, which i guess is not nearly as bad as when the one fell through Lindsay’s ceiling, but that’s not my story to tell. Next, the tiny mouse that has taken up residence in the eaves of the roof ran out of it’s bolt hole that is, apparently, about three inches from the foot of the bed. Suffice to say, discovering that a rodent has set up a proverbial welcome mat within spitting distance sent me into quite a frenzy, and back up to the head of the bed. And, finally, the coup de grace came from the single indestructible fly that has taken control of my room since i arrived at home last week with two cans of RAID Home and Garden spray and emptied them into the air of my room (mmm, carcinogens). He circled my head three times (just long enough for me to be mildly aware of the buzzing, and then proceeded to dive bomb my ear repeatedly until i ran, screaming, from my bedroom to the bathroom.
To wash my ear, of course. And, so, here i am.
You have to understand, it isn’t that my room is dirty, or filled with pest-sized treats, it’s just that we live in West Philly, and when it starts to get cold outside all these little buggers want in, and as a renter there’s only so much i can do about the integrity of our battlements, so to speak. And, yes, we’ve tried traps and sprays and sticky pieces of paper — the whole nine yards, but for every one we kill there’s another one that wants in.
Anyway, at least i’m up.
I want an Uma Thurman action figure.
Also, next time i hear someone brag about how they used a computer to animate an “impossible-to-shoot fight sequence,” i will refer them to my Uma Thurman action figure.
I wonder if they come in lifesized models…
I used to read RiotHero a long time ago. He was the 16-year-old counter-revolutionary literarily-informed experimental-adolescent hot shit of the 2000 blogging scene. Something must have happened, though, because his site eventually disappeared off the face of the internet. Another on bites the dust, i thought, not caring to much beyond that. Well, surprise surprise, while surfing through some ancient CK this morning i inadvertently clicked on a RiotHero link only to find his website back, with him a meager two entries into his college experience. I am not sure how closely i’ll be following it, but i do have to say “Welcome Back, Mark!,” as he was one of the first high calibre bloggers i ever took pleasure in reading.
(If you’re looking for a more actively updated “transition to college” blog by a comparably interesting boy, you really ought to be reading Uprush hostee Tony’s Oregon Trail, which makes me wish i had kept a log during my freshman year.)
In other back from the dead news, note that Dave has brought Acerbia back with another nifty layout and snarky yet accessible blogging (start here for new content), as well as adding (well, not directly) the highly readable site of his other half, Pixel Diva to the mix. Officially my new favorite house of bloggers. But, lest my post end there, Dave actually moves within the oh-so-jealously-inducing group of Brit Bloggers, which apparently includes immediate members of Meg Pickard’s family. Meg is the blogger behind the site that inspired CK, Not So Soft, which i was dismayed to find had disappeared from the face of the internet. Thankfully, and in keeping with the theme of this post, it too has been reborn as Meish.
You know, once i get over this aimless lack of responsibility i’m not going to have any time to read all these good blogs.