Frustrated

Annoyed that people have things to do.

This is in effort of self-relief.

Wait, doesn't sound right, I mean, self-effort relief.

What does that mean?

Stupid bloody Friday,
Don't you know that it's my day,
I'd like to be the Eggman for a change,
I know it sounds pretty strange,
But one thing that I'm not,
Is coherent, and that is one fact that I'm adherent to,
But there is a time that I once existed as, but now forgot,
Who has the bell,
Sitting in the well,
The shoerack smell, it's could be somebody's death knell,
Channel for the outlet,
Sitting in the gutter,
Flossing in the mirror,
Pupils dialate,
People violate,
Desire ensnares,
Madness begins,
KFC - let's dig in,
I'm not a vegan,
Not one of those shenanigans,
Jooba jooba hijiku hijiku,
No more quiet time for me,
All is noise,
Where is the voice,
Where is the sanity,
Oh so pretty,
Look at her,
Walking down the street,
She's so pretty,
Look at her,
Walking down the street,
He's so middling,
And so keen on fiddling,
With anything,
And everything,
That moves,
He can't help himself,
He deserves no less,
No more,
But not as much as he deserved,
Before,
Every line ends in a comma,
What if she's not 'welcomma.
Intruder, he misunderstood her.
Not his fault,
That's how he's been built,
Filled with guilt,
And remorse,
That plagues his feet,
They begin to swell,
Flint, bone and shrapnel,
Digging into his skin,
Oh my! haven't I sinned,
Before,
Tired but I just can't sleep,
I'm so stoned,
Not really, it's just the hormones,
Please, can't I sleep,
Why the commas,
Are they 'welcomma,
What has changed since the beginning,
What has changed since the beginning,
Look at them as they appear out of nowhere,
Quickly, sickly,
Apparently, no form,
Of their own sweet whim,
So proper,
And they swim,
In,
They are what they are,
Oh look at her! walking down the street,
He can't keep to himself,
But how to establish something that exist,
There's nothing to build on,
Except the knowledge that there's nothing to build on,
Why do we build these castles in the air,
Is life fair,
Have you been to the fair, free from cares,
Aren't you a pretty one,
Where are the commas,
Coming from,
Are you sure they're a 'welcomma,
Books, looks, boldy shook,
And they shook all night,
'Neath the burning light,
Of nothingness and solitude,
Of confusedness and gratitude,
Why do these things have to rhyme,
Why do they have to reason,
Themselves out,
Must there be no doubt.
Must there be meaning,
Behind these things,
That express thoughts that flow in a torretful stream,
I regret that the Being Supreme,
Pours into a hollow,
At the top of my head,
There's a bucket of lead, (liquidly and heatedly)
By my legs,
It does beg, desperately, pleadingly beg,
To be released from it's captiveness,
And fulfill it's purpose,
Whatever that may be,
It knows,
Purpose, that is what everyday is about,
Purpose, is the beginning,
And the end,
Of everything that pretends,
To be about something else,
Besides this,
Purpose,
It begins and ends here,
But I do not know what I must do once it has been done,
Mere existence seems shallow and pretentious like her walking down the street,
And he hoping for something that doesn't exist,
It all seems so silly,
Willy nilly,
And Billy the shepherd,
He has purpose,
To herd the flock,
Show them their way home,
They have a purpose too,
You know,
I know,
I'm begging you to stop being so silly,
It does not do you good,
As it should,
Get some air,
It's only fair,
You've been cooped up in this place too long.

All Sounds Digital

Contains just the right amount of parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme to satisy Karuvad's distinguishedly distinguishing literary palate of curiosity.
So this is what I've been all day, removing noise from a recently digitalized tape collection that goes back nearly three decades.

The screenshot shows Audacity running a Noise Removal operation on an audio file that contains a full side of a cassette tape - about 30 minutes of audio (encoded in 128 kbps MP3, CBR).

The Philips AZ1856 CD Soundmachine was a good purchase. We've been using that to rip the tapes to digital.

We've ripped about 90 tapes and I've got to take all these mp3 files (about 2 GB total), clean them up, and split them into songs and add the information. [Edit: It's too big a task right now, and I don't I think could do it before getting past third base with anybody. It's plenty of (repetitive, monotonous, clicky-klackety) work, and I've still got plenty a whole lot left to do.

Will be posting with screenshots to convey a fair idea of what goes into getting this done.
.
UpdatE: Still working.

Newer UpdatE:

Two Three Four A couple of days into the project and I'm still done working.

Have finished with about 9 tapes it.

I've gone from Kubuntu to Ubuntu [notice the changes in the window styles between the one above and the one alongside] and still, I've managed to finish only 9 tapes.

Dad sat with me and gained a real understanding of how delicate and annoyingly iffy this work is.

He said he understood. :-)

Tea Dunk

I managed to get one of my (not-so-)perfectly good (the left ear) earphones, belonging to the Motorola headset into my cup of tea

I'm sure I never intended to, but somehow, it happened.

The right earphone has gone dead and only emits sounds when you press the cable really hard into the earpiece. Not very easy when the darned thing keeps falling off.

It's almost like a sequel to what happened to the phone previously.

Identi.ca transformed itself over the space of one whole hour.

And now we're (me, The Inky Person, and others) having a discussion over the new UI, I like / hate it - it's change after all, and maybe it serves a purpose, but we'll see where it goes. But there are solutions. And there are some bugs cropping up.

Change is inevitable.

I Feel Infected


Thank you, Windows hackerz.

This is what happened.

I could find no better way to spend my time.

I <3 Avast <3 You.

Good Morning People

I find myself looking at people.

I need to really start a diary. This blogging thing is too public, and too 'out-there'ish.

Where's that diary I once had?