4.12.06

The State of Things

Three things have happened since my last blog entry. Well, two things and an epiphany. Which I guess is of equal or even larger value than a thing. It might even count for a thing and-a-half, or perhaps two small-to-medium sized things. Why we don't learn how to solve fundamental everyday dilemmas like these at school is a mystery to me: then again, many things are mysteries to me and maths are certainly not among my strongest talents (of which I have remarkably few). Where was I? Oh, yes: the things. And one epiphany.

Thing one: Replacements for my favorite rubber-based contraceptives arrived in my mailbox last Friday, along with a small, handwritten note from the supplier - no mention of my long-winded (but hopefully humorous) e-mail, just a few words along the lines of "We're sorry the postman nicked yer rubbers, here are some new ones." Which is perfectly acceptable to me. Be nice to the costumer support department, and chances are they just might return the favor.

Thing two: My annual December cold arrived a little early this year, for the last week it's been annoyingly present without incapacitating me. I even somewhat gracefully participated in this weekend's bowling/tapas/"Casino Royale"-combo with my girlfriend and friends M & G. The verdict: Daniel Craig makes for a pretty darn good Bond, tapas make for some pretty darn good grub and my bowling skills make for some pretty darn good entertainment (for all the wrong reasons).

Today - on my day off - I'm at home tending to the last remnants of my cold and feeling slightly sorry for myself among the heaps of used Kleenex and crap mid-day TV. Which brings me to my epiphany: Snot.

Why on earth are we spending precious time and money developing alternative sources of energy, when the power of snot is just waiting to be harnessed? It's readily available - most humans seem to be producing an almost endless amount of it during the Winter season - and completely biodegradable! Surely, an average Norwegian 4-year old could easily power a small apartment building alone, and all those kinder gardens out there are potential power-plants of unfathomable power! Ok, so there are certain bio-hazard issues to solve, and of course trying to figure out how to actually extract energy from runny, bacteria-infected goop, but think of the possibilities.

Sure, it's gross, but it still beats thermonuclear meltdowns and fossil-based energy: if a snot-tanker crashes somewhere, the only thing we'll have to worry about is a large amount of seagulls with the sniffles.

1.12.06

I am legend!

Right, so I haven't done a blog entry in ages, I have a nasty cold, work today has been a total killer and the weather is... well, it is.

Still, two things got me through the day:


1) I am a legend. Well, a Røde legend to be exact. Most of you don't know what that means, and that's quite okay. For me, it means I've been given some cool, free stuff - pretty cool stuff, to be honest. Which will in no way affect my objectivity in my work, mind you: I'll still let you know what's crap and what's not whenever you buy something from me. Promise!


2) It's Friday. Which is my favorite day of the week, for at least one reason that I won't mention here. It's a good reason, though. Maybe even the best. Quite possibly the best. Yeah, let's use that one. Now, get the heck outta here.

27.11.06

Milkman? Worry about the mailman instead

27.11.06: Milkman? Worry about the mailman instead magnify
(Warning: the following entry contains at least two things that may shock the casual reader of my blog - 1. the words "condoms" and "sexual" are in it. 2. which imply that I actually have a love life and am not the lonely geek I may appear to be. A sense of humor is thusly required.)

"To whom it may concern,

Today I received in my mailbox a shipment from you (order no. XXXXXX) that was supposed to contain 1 piece of Brand C 30-pack of condoms and 1 piece of Brand P 30-pack of condoms: unfortunately, the sealed paper bag containing these items had been ripped open, and only contained 2 pcs. of Brand C 10-pack of condoms. I find two possible reasons for this:

1) The paper bag has been laying beneath some very heavy papers/letters (electricity or dentist bills, most likely) inside the mailman's bag and was torn open as the mailman transfered the package from his bag to my mailbox. In that case, a somewhat surprised - and hopefully lucky - mailman will find 40 pcs. of high-quality condoms in the bottom of his bag by the end of his shift, and will use these in the best possible fashion.

2) A less than honorable employee with our highly competent Postal Service has - metaphorically as well as literally - secured himself for a good few days to come. The way the bag was torn (very neatly) implies that this is the most likely alternative. The fact that this person consider my condoms a far more valuable contraband than the huge amount of DVDs and CDs that regularly pop into my mailbox tells - I'm sorry to say - far more about him than me.

I am of course aware of the fact that your company can neither be blamed for huge electricity bills nor thieving postal workers, and I fully understand that it would be easy to brand me as a cheeky (but eloquent) con artist - I mean, I COULD have torn open the bag myself when I got home from work this evening and promptly engaged in a sexual marathon of truly epic proportions that would have decimated the number of condoms at an alarming rate - but I consider myself a loyal and honest customer and was hoping that you could help me out of this somewhat racy predicament. Photographic evidence of the state of the paper bag and its contents can be produced if necessary.

Regards,
Bitstreem (bewildered and contraception-impoverished customer) "

(This is a translation of the actual e-mail I sent to the online store where I get my condoms - hopefully the customer support department will have a sense of humor compatible with mine.)

15.11.06

Top 7 signs you're no longer a single geek


(Tongue firmly in cheek and all that. All references to actual, living people are purely coincidental and should be taken with a huge grain of salt. Oh, and I'm more than happy to have my newfound love disrupt my geeky routines and rituals, thankyouverymuch.)

Not too long ago, my status as a single geek changed into that of a geek-in-a-relationship. This has brought about certain changes in my life and lifestyle (or lack of such), and I'm happy to say they are mostly for the better (of course, I say this because there's a good chance my girlfriend will be reading this blog). I thought perhaps a short summary of these changes may be of value to other geeks (of one persuasion or the other) in a relationship or about to enter one.

So, here they are, the top 7 tell-tale signs you're no longer a single geek:

1. Your otherwise spotless order history of quality music and cult/action/horror-movies with your favorite web-shop (*cough*Play*cough*) suddenly becomes tainted with Top 20 CDs and chick-flicks.

2. You find yourself - somewhat reluctantly - actually enjoying said Top 20 CDs and chick-flicks to some extent. I repeat: to SOME extent.

3. "Going shopping" no longer means checking out the nearest Apple Store or scavenging for cheap X-Men comics.

4. There are at least 10 new cosmetics products in your bathroom that you cannot identify - and most of their content cannot be found in the periodic table.

5. Two words: "Couple dinners". 'Nuff said!

6. No more careless tossing about of pop-cultural references: if you say something in Klingon, Elvish or Wookie, be prepared to explain it. Thoroughly. In a language spoken on Earth.

7. With the above point fresh in mind: Yes, most sci-fi and fantasy will lose some of its initial attraction once properly explained (read: dissected), scrutinized and lovingly ridiculed.

8. "Playing games" no longer means hooking up your Playstation or dusting off your Star Wars action figures... Which is quite an improvement, really. No further elaboration required or granted.

There you have it, fellow geeks: it's not so bad as it may seem. Life is change, and not all change is for the worse - even if it means a bit less obsessive re-watching of Firefly episodes.

PS! I don't really speak Klingon, Elvish or Wookie - well.

26.10.06

Safecracking 101

You know, sometimes growing up - yes, it's a seemingly never-ending process for me, I admit - is just a long line of crushed illusions and broken dreams: Finding out why your Dad and Santa was never in the same room at the same time, catching your Mum in the act of "planting" the Easter Bunny's eggs, discovering the whole Tooth Fairy scam - I could go on forever.

Granted, as time goes by and cynicism - that's adulthood for you an me - slowly seeps in, the disappointments do seem to come a little further apart and the shock of finding that your head actually won't explode if you hold back a sneeze is a little more easy to bear. Hey, stay with me, there's actually a point to this whole long-winded story and it's coming up any time now!

So, today another of my childhood (and adulthood, for that matter) illusions went bust. Yay. The other day the lock of our safe (where we keep all of our booty, aaarrrr) here at work went all ballistic and wouldn't open, much to our dismay. Locked out of our own safe, we had to call in a locksmith (no, they're not found under "safe-crackers" in the yellow pages) to open the damn thing for us. Now, having never seen a locksmith in action, I was a bit excited as the guy appeared with his bag of tools: I immediately pictured him in silent concentration in front of the safe, stethoscope in place, carefully turning the dial listening for that gratifying "click".


Can you imagine my disappointment when the guy opens his bag, and pulls out a big-ass electric drill?! Dude, what the hell? Where's the finesse? The sophistication? The elegance? Why didn't TV tell me that opening a safe requires a dozen large power-tools, brute force and most of all a bloody great deal of time?! Yeah, the guy went at the steel mammoth for a good three hours with his assortment of power-tools before the thing opened up.


I'm so depressed now.

19.9.06

Product Conundrum

Wrap your head around this, dear readers:

A couple of years ago, one distributor - let's call him A4 - drops by the store to tell us about this wonderful now product - let's call it product P - that he's selling. Product P, he tells us, is made by people that used to work for another and vastly inferior brand that makes product S. Now, product S is made in China just like product P, but product P is the object of a whole lot more love, care and quality control than that generic, made-for-the-money product S. Ok, we say, we'll give product P a chance. You can never have too many affordable thingamajigs in your store, anyway. We already have a few product S's in the store, so it'll be fun to see if product P sells better, we say.

So, time passes, and we sell very little of product P. We try it ourselves, and it's certainly not bad - however, the same can be said about product S, really. We don't think about it too much, and go back to selling product R which everyone likes (both us and the customers) and we sell heaps of.


A month ago, distributor A4 sends out his regular, longwinded and bloated information e-mail about new products and such and guess what: he's dropping product P. It didn't sell as good as expected, and they want to focus on a new, and much better brand. Can you guess which one? Ah, yes: product S, of course. Yes, product S is now elevated to the status of product made with a whole lot of love, care and quality control, while product P - which was previously in this glorified position - is now thrown down in the dirt.


And people wonder why product PR (in all forms) make me giggle. Teehee.

Oh, and anyone who can figure out which products and which distributor I'm talking about will get the wonderful prize of absolutely nothing. Which, coincidentally, is roughly equal to the substance and integrity of said distributor's sales pitches. *giggle*

15.9.06

An ode to the laundry room

15.09.06: An ode to the laundry room magnify
Oh, laundry room:

Where the good inhabitants of your apartment building meet to socialize and engage in friendly banter; where strangers' eyes meet in brief moments of forbidden desire or unabashed disgust; where the intelligentsia gather to plot their next reality-altering scheme (such as keeping the laundry closed on Sundays and thus making sure nobody can do their laundry on the only day they have the time to do so); where the janitor's notice board is constantly covered in a glorious mix of complaints, questions and nonsensical, semi-poetic dabblings.

Where quiet battles are fought over who booked the dryer first or stole someone's bleach;
where little old ladies will gently persuade you into letting them have the washing machine for
another 30 minutes (and nobody says no because it would be like saying no to your own
grandmother), thereby nudging the already rickety booking schedule into a magnificent
collapse; where socks disappear into thin air, only to manifest themselves four months later
in a tattered, washed out state after having been stuck in the dark realms of the leftmost
washing machine where not even the keenest of eyes could see them, or strongest of hands pry them free from their ever-rotating iron cell; where the principle of "love thy neighbour" is put to the test every day as you find your clothes strewn all over the usually less then squeaky clean laundry room floor.

Where creatures big and small - of both the human and non-human kind - roam freely among the comforting warmth emitted from the large electrical mammoths that leave our laundry in a state of variable decontamination; where the strong, concrete walls block all cell phone reception and leave you blissful isolation from the brouhaha of the outside world (and prevents your mum calling you and nagging about that thing you were supposed to pick up somewhere).

Oh, laundry room - my life revolves around thy existence and thy etheric booking system!
Oh, laundry room - may thy electricity never be absent, thus leaving my clothes wet and full of detergent!


(I really, really need to get my own washing machine.)

8.9.06

Unwords!

(Disclaimer: This blog entry is mainly composed of things copy-pasted from Unwords.com. I know some people frown upon this kind of creative laziness, but it's Friday - sue me!)

I love words. Big ones, small ones, strange ones, funny ones - they're all friends to me! Now, sometimes words evolve (or degenerate, depending on your point of view) into new words and then they end up on Unwords.com - a super-duper site for new breeds of words! I've taken the liberty to list a few of the entries here, to whet your appetite for more...

Destinasia - a. (n.) Going upstairs or downstairs and being unable to remember why.

Disconfect - a. (v.) To sterilize the piece of candy you dropped on the floor by blowing on it, somehow assuming this will "remove" all the germs.

Docuphobia - a. (n.) The fear of using documentation, usually resulting from some previous traumatic event such as programming a VCR.

Drylowgraph - a. (n.) Any strange, unintelligible symbol that accompanies the washing instructions on clothing labels

Malbingophobia - a. (n.) The fear among some bingo players that they have incorrectly marked a square, and calling "bingo" could cause them not victory, but public humiliation.

Meandrathal - a. (n.) Any person in an exhausted state of mind in which they wander aimlessly, sometimes with low blood-sugar, in a shopping mall, video store or the like.

More words at Unwords.com - go there now!

4.9.06

A waste of space

Two minutes ago, I realized that none of my MSN contacts where online and I felt a sting of loneliness and abandon - like being locked out of the playground, or not chosen for the "cool" team for the soccer match.

Then, I realized that realizing this was all rather sad - borderline pathetic, some might say - and filled my cup with coffee and started writing this blog entry.

Alas, while writing this I realized that spending time, energy and precious blog-space on this specific theme was indeed a bit sad aswell, and most likely a good indication of my current state of blogger's writer's block. So I'll stop, right here.

Too late now, anyway.

Meh.

1.9.06

A blogger's lament

Dear readers of late,
I bring saddening news:
My blog's in a state
of writer's block blues!

So this Blogger entry
(though rhyming quite well)
is quite elementary,
as I'm sure you can tell.

It's not so by choice,
or fate, if you will:
For uttering my voice
is usually a thrill.

It's not that I'm lazy,
or tired or sad,
it's not that I'm crazy
(or ate something bad).

The reason my site
is lackluster and dull,
and lacking in bite
when it should have been full:

The reason is this
(and I hate to admit) -
I have nothing to say,
and thus nothing to submit.
----------------------------------
(Ok, so that last line
didn't rhyme all that well:
I don't always refine,
but at least I can spell!)

23.8.06

OMGWTF?! - DeLighTable

There are coffee-tables, and then... there are COFFEE-TABLES. The DeLighTable from Kloss is one bad-ass table.


Woah. Me want. Badly!

14.8.06

Master of the Toast

I'm basically a slightly reserved, if not shy, guy. I prefer the safety of a shadowy background to the bright spotlights of centre stage. I don't crave attention.

In spite of this, I have a remarkable talent for ending up in situations that require me to drop a few of my inhibitions and act as if I enjoy being in the spotlight: My day job require me to talk to strangers every day, I've played live music for small crowds a few times, I've given some presentations and speeches and now I have one more thing to add to my growing list of things I've sworn I'd never do: being toastmaster in a wedding.

Yes, my good friend Mikael was married to his Grete this Saturday, and by chance (or Mikael's remarkable negotiation skills) I had ended up as the toastmaster for the event.Woah. Seeing as neither me nor Mikael (I'll refer to him as M from now on) had a particularily good idea about what this whole toastmastering business was all about, M figured it'd be an easy job ("Just announce the menu and the speakers... oh, and stay sober.") and I figured he was right ("How hard can it be?"). So, with this settled, I left for my Summer holidays and M went about his business reassured that he'd chosen the right guy for the job. Ahem.

A week before the wedding, I get the first call from M's mom. Ok, so there are a couple of more minor tasks that I have to see to during my forthcoming toastmaster gig. I take notes, and she says she'll send me a short list of suggestions and questions on e-mail a little later. Now, keep in mind that the job description as written by M was about three lines - M's mother's list was about two pages. Oy vey! At this point, I felt the need to do a little research on this whole toastmaster thing, and stopped by a few wedding-themed websites to get some ideas. Bad move. The first site described the toastmaster as the guy with the responsibility for the wedding dinner. All of it! I was starting to feel a little clammy. A second website described him as a cross between a stand-up comedian, presenter and maitre d' - now, a flicker of panic embraced me for a short time.

So, what to do? Analyze. Sort. Arrange. Prepare. These words are my personal mantra whenever I'm thrown into situations like these - and as I said earlier, I tend to get thrown into them wether I like it or not. Being a methodical geek, I prodded M's mom with questions so I could see what I was heading into. A small family wedding, about 55 guests, mostly people I've never met. Right. I made a list of all my tasks and then a rough schedule for the night that I sent to M's mom. I prepared a few anectodotes, and some light-hearted introductions to myself and a couple of the speekers (that I knew). The schedule was revised a couple of times (new speekers, songs etc.) but we ended up with a nice, structured plan for the day that would be of great help to both me, the kitchen and M's mom.

How did it all go in the end? Pretty good, actually. We were on a tight schedule, so my plan was constantly changing during the day, but all speakers gave their speeches, many a song was sung, and a tired but happy toastmaster could treat himself to some coffee and cognac at about nine o'clock in the evening.

Would I do it again? Well, I can say "no" but like I said: I seem to have a talent for ending up in these situations...

11.8.06

Assorted goodies

Ok, ok, so I am resorting to stea... uhm... borrowing nice links from good sites like Ektopia, I-am-bored and other worthwhile places these days - hey, I haven't got the time to write witty blog entries ALL the time, ok? OK? Right.

Let's start with todays musical curiosity: Twink makes sickly cute (but oh-so-great) toy-like music, and their remix of NIN's "The hand that feeds" sounds like a cross between a sugar-coated Goblin and... well... NIN, really. Check it out here: Twink vs. NIN - have a peek at their MySpace page too, while you're at it.

"City Paradise" is a nice piece of audio/visual art by Gaelle Denis - atmospheric and whimsical.

Finally, some game-music nostalgia as performed by the Video Games Live Orchestra:


9.8.06

Eye Candy!

Feast yer eyes on this gorgeous piece of animation courtesy of MTV Asia and Ben Hibon:





..could someone turn this into a series, please?

Kraftwerk live in Oslo, August 8th 2006!

At last: yesterday I FINALLY got the chance to see the band that without doubt is THE most influential electronic act throughout the times: KRAFTWERK! Yeah, baby! Ralf and Florian did their thing with Fritz and Henning solidly filling the roles of Wolfgang and Karl (or was it the other way around?). The four old Germans rocked the house - well, shoegazed the house - for a good two hours, running through classic after classic: Man Machine, Computer Love, Radioactivty, Autobahn, Tour De France - they were all there.

Photo-0021

Of course, when "The Robots" was finally performed near the end of the concert, the now famous remote-controlled robotic Kraftwerk-lookalikes replaced the quartet to much (and well deserved) applause and cheering from the audience. Speaking of which, the audience was a fascinating mix of young and old, neatly dressed 40-year olds and red-shirt-and-black-tie wearing 30 somethings, goths, rockers and synth-freaks, and the ever present "Look at me, I've got no musical taste, but I go see every major band that plays in this town just so I can wear their official tour T-shirt and tell all my friends I've seen them live!" bunch. Ahem. Nothing personal against you guys, but seriously: an R.E.M tour T-shirt at a Kraftwerk concert? Puhlease...

Die Roboter!

All in all, this was a great experience: Great sound, great visuals, a sweaty but very enthusiastic audience (I was practically dripping with sweat by the end: Sentrum Scene is HOT during Summer gigs) and the chance (perhaps my only) to see some truly monumental artists within my musical genre of preference. I was grinning like a fool during the whole show, and let me tell you: these days, there are only two things that put a grin like that on my face, and Kraftwerk live is one of them. The other... isn't. ;)

Photo-0015

8.8.06

Space

(Disclaimer: if my somewhat overactive brain has somehow nicked any central themes or ideas here from your favourite song/movie/book - then I assure you it's purely coincidental and all in your mind. Really)

Space is a strange thing. No, not that big, unfathomable darkness in which our tiny speck of a planet is hanging, but space as in that somewhat smaller area that's surrounding us at any given time. Space breathes, it expands, collapses, twists and warps and can turn from a comfort zone to a cage in a fraction of a second. It can be a massive field of freedom or a suffocating void of emptiness. Space - or lack of it - is what makes a room seem crowded even when occupied by just two people, or a crowded room seem enormous and empty - apart from that person whose space you share at the moment.

Space has voids: not the mind-bogglingly huge ones, but the small, people-sized ones. Ever noticed that special emptiness left behind by someone close or special to you? It's not the same space that was there before, but a space without meaning, without substance. Space without substance may seem like a ridiculous idea, but I suspect some of you know the feeling (or a similar one, although differently phrased): like the face of a loved one suddenly missing from a family photo, the image incomplete – something is missing.

Why this sudden obsession with space, I hear you ask. Well, my space (not MySpace) has been invaded. It was not a hostile invasion, but a quiet, comfortable one. I made some feeble attempts at resistance, but this space-invader (pun intended) was a cunning and stealthy opponent and I was outsmarted, out-gunned – my line of defense broken and left crumbling in the hands of the invader. Slowly, the space in which I've been residing started growing, its outer perimeters harder to monitor and the invader found a way in – and my space will never be the same again. For now, this invader's space and mine seem to have formed a symbiotic relationship – each person's space leaving a vacuum in the other one's when that person is not around.

My space is no longer empty. :)

2.8.06

Holy AT-ST, Batman - It's a Japanese Land Walker!

Right, so it looks a lot more intimidating when NOT moving - even with its high-powered lazer-cannons... uhm, I mean, high-powered plastic-ball shooting cannons - but, dude: it's a walker! A walker! And it walks! Well, sort of...







Hmm, I wonder how much this thing would set me back: I've already injected way too much money into the
invisibility cloak, the flying car and the personal space-station - I'm running low on cash.

14.7.06

100 Awesome Music Videos!

Bless the kind-hearted music geeks over at Pitchfork for compiling this fantastic list of music videos... YouTube, we love you!

Pitchfork Feature: 100 Awesome Music Videos

Don't think I'll get much work done today...

6.7.06

More YouTube Turntablism Goodness

Ok, ok, so I'm a sucker for high-quality turntablism - sue me! Here's C2C at the 2005 DMC team world championship, giving one hell of a performance musically and showmanwise:



So... Anyone want to argue that DJs can't be musicians? No?

Erik Mongrain - tapping virtuoso

Well, well: just when you think you just MIGHT become an adequate guitar-player after all, along comes Mr. Erik Mongrain and crushes whatever confidence one may have established:



Dammit, why can't all you talented people just keep your stupid show-off videos to yourselves? *mumble, mumble*

Hrmf.

5.7.06

Could someone initiate something like this in Oslo?

You've got to admit that the guys in Improv Everywhere stage some truly awesome - and massive - public scenes of "chaos and joy". Their Mp3 Experiment (part III) put a big smile on my face and must have made the day for the 600 participants, too.

Improv Everywhere: The Mp3 Experiment III

Check out the video and music/soundfiles a bit down on the page to get an impression of what this is all about. Big respect to the gang for pulling stuff like this off, considering the amount of work involved.

If someone wants to start an Oslo division, I'm all for it.

4.7.06

A tale of two Speakers

Disclaimer: This is all a fictional tale of... ehm... fiction. The names have been changed to protect my sanity. This story is in no way representative of my usual working day, and if you think it is you can go boil your head. With some carrots.

Today was another hot day at work and by lunchtime I was getting bored: very few customers had come by - they were probably all at the beach drinking piña coladas - and I felt the need to do something:

Another slow, hot Summer day at work...
Then I remembered the new speakers I'd received that morning: I could go down to the demo-room and hook them up! Now, hooking up speakers is much more complicated and dangerous than people might think, so please remember that I'm a trained professional: don't try this at home! So, to prepare myself for this ordeal, I paid a visit to the Temple:

Our temple: the coffee machine!
The Temple supplies us with the Nectar of Life AKA coffee. And it's free for all the employees! The spoils of working in musical instrument retail... So, with the Power of the Temple rushing through my veins, I sprinted down to the basement:

The Cellar
Of course, hooking up new stuff means unwrapping new stuff. Which means opening boxes. Lots of them. While boxes are mostly cool - apart from those little spike things that sometimes hold them together and that cut you when you try to tear them apart - boxes containing big, heavy speakers is a bit of a nuisance: you open the lid, discover that there's ANOTHER slightly smaller box inside, then try to wrestle the speaker out of the box without slipping a disc or getting a hernia. Like I said, leave this to the professionals:
Unwrapping big, boxy things
Of course, inside this particularly heavy and hard-to-handle box, was another heavy and hard-to-handle box:
More boxes
Speakers finally unwrapped, it was time to give them a proper inspection - all speakers are harvested from gigantic speaker-fields somewhere in China, and sometimes grow aggressive or scared during the journey over here. So the first thing I do with new speakers, is to talk to them for a bit - just general smalltalk like telling them where they are, what price tag they will carry and what music they'll be playing, that kind of stuff - before they settle in. This particular batch was very co-operative and friendly, I call them Bob, Joe and Larry:

The contents of said boxes
Suddenly - I don't know if it was because I mentioned playing "Korn" at loud volumes - Joe attacked! He launched at my foot with a mean look on his face:

Ouch!
The pain was unbearable as I barely managed to retract my foot from Joe's vicious attack!

Oh, the pain - the humiliation!
Luckily, I managed to escape mostly unscathed, even if my foot hurt for a long time afterwards.

Foot on fire
I gave Joe a reprimand - you've gotta show these speakers who's boss - and even if he sulked for a bit afterwards, he was behaving nicely. After a bit of rest, I went and got the cables I needed. Cables come in two variants, wild and domesticated. The wild ones are mostly found in and around concert areas and are ferocious, unpredictable beasts: they will launch at you for no apparent reason, become tangled if you even look at them the wrong way or simply disappear from where you put them mere minutes earlier. Wild cables are for roadies and other trained specialists - in retail, we mostly work with domesticated cables. While they too can have a mean streak, they'll behave nicely for most of the time if you know how to handle them:

Domesticated cables
The cables were a little unruly - probably because of the presence of new speakers: speakers and cables are known to have territorial issues - and one of them looked particularly mischievous - it was crawling all over the place, and started trying to entangle me:

It's got me!
I tried talking sternly to it, but it simply wouldn't let me go! In the end, I got a hold of its head and gave it my best animal-like snarl - that seem to tell it to back off:

Cable attack!
With the cables under control, it was now time to start connecting them to the speakers and my mixer. Of course, this is another hugely complex operation that I will not bother your tiny little minds with:

And this goes...?
Sadly, even the greatest of minds sometimes get baffled by the wonders of modern technology:

Caveman confused by Cables
The speaker-attack and the cable-wrestling had drained me of precious energy, and I was getting very, very frustrated:

I'm frustrated
Something had to be done to resolve this, so I retracted to contemplate on this problem for a while:

This needs contemplation
After much and almost unfathomably complex thinking, I realized what was wrong - I had an epiphany:

Eureka!
All out of coffee! Of course I can't do complex speaker hook-uping without massive amounts of caffeine in my blood. I ran up and got another cup, and treated myself to a proper coffee-break:

Coffee break
Aah, sweet, sweet nectarine! Thou blesseth my tastebuds with thy black beauty!
Much better now!
Re-energized by the Gifts from the Temple, I soon figured out the problem and got everything up and running smoothly. Shortly after, the sweet tones of Massive Attack filled the room: the mission was a success!

All done!

30.6.06

Transformers teaser

More goodies for the fanboys: Grab the "Transformers" teaser over at Michael Bay's website and tell me you're not getting a wee bit excited...(edit 11.08.06: changed the link to the official website)

Transformers teaser @ The Transformers website

Oh joy!

29.6.06

The C64 orchestra!

Ok, this is simply cool beyond all coolness:



Oh man, Rob and Jeroen are old geezers! Fabulous stuff, sure hope there will be made a proper audio/video recording of this when it's performed in September.

Some more info here.

Life vs. The Movies

You know what separates real life from a movie? A director. Well ok, a few other things too, but mainly a director. Take dialogue, for example; tonight I saw someone off at the train station, and as we were talking our conversation came to a halt several times as the PA announced the different trains' arrivals and departures. Fair enough. Still - have you ever seen this problem in a movie?

Person A: "So, there I was, minding my own business, when Joe came and..."
(screech - click)
PA: "THE TRAIN FOR LILLEHAMMER WILL BE ARRIVING AT LINE 12 IN 3 MINUTES"
(screech - click)
Person B: "...."
Person A: "Err... Where was I? Oh yeah, Joe's gonna leave the company."

See what I mean? With the director in place, the same scene would have played out like:

Person A: "So, there I was, minding my own business, when Joe came and told me he's gonna leave the company."
Person B: "Really?"
Person A: "Yeah, that's what he said."
Person B: "..."
(screech - click)
PA: "THE TRAIN FOR LILLEHAMMER WILL BE ARRIVING AT LINE 12 IN 3 MINUTES"
(screech - click)

In a movie, the director neatly gets rid of all these little distractions and annoyances to get things flowing smoothly: cars won't woosh by in the middle of an intimate conversation, people don't yell and laugh in the background of an emotional moment between the main characters and PAs don't bellow out their messages during dialogue - they neatly fit them in during pauses. Cafés, bars and discos are never louder than that one can lead a conversation there, and the music will always be lower in volume when someone whispers or lowers their voice.

So... Am I asking for life to be more like the movies? Not by a longshot - it would be a total bore. Just making an observation, that's all.

What, you never spend time contemplating these things? Geez...

27.6.06

Spider-Man 3 trailer/teaser debuts tonight!

Or, today or... Uhm, well, depending on where you are in the world at the given time, I suppose. It'll be up on Apple sometime today, at least. Woot!

Trailers @ Apple

I know; I'm such a fanboy... *sigh*

26.6.06

Happy Days

Seems like I'm reaping the rewards of some good karma these days. Saturday at work was great fun, I got more or less carte blanche to put together a complete computer-based homestudio (sans PC) for these two guys and they were so thankful for my time and assitance, I was almost a little touched. The good thing about having the store outside of the downtown area is that you get the chance (most of the time) to spend the time each customer needs to to feel confident they're getting the right product/package. Heh, by the end of the deal, I gave them each a coffee mug with our logo on (I have a small stack of them) and they almost fell to to ground. Made my day.

Of course, my day at work could have been rotten as heck and my day would still have been made thanks to a very nice Saturday night. Turns out my previously mentioned nervousness was completely unnecessary. What, details? You wish. Let's just say I spent the evening in some very good company. The weather for Midsummer Night was reasonably good, if a little chilly. Quite a few people out and about enjoying themselves.

But the "Omen" remake? Gah. Someone will have to teach the good directors of Hollywood that in 9.9 out of 10 times, remakes are a bloody stupid idea.

23.6.06

Nerves

I'm a little nervous. Not a lot, just that slightly giddy, not-quite-uncomfortable, yet not-quite-comfortable feeling that bubbles a bit in your tummy - not unlike your first appearance in the school play or before a concert performance. Why on earth would I, the rock-solid, down-to-earth, hard to sway guy - the very epitome of coolness (ahem, well...) be feeling nervous? Well, there's something happening tomorrow. Nothing huge or spectacular - well, probably not, anyway - but still enough to get my nerves working a bit harder than they usually do. No, I'm not telling. Not yet, anyway. If you want to indulge in the inner workings of a stranger's emotional life, there are plenty of blogs for that. I'm just telling you I'm feeling a bit nervous, and that there is a reason for it.

Of course, it could be the 5 mugs of coffee I've downed the last couple of hours - I'm seriously considering doing a few laps around the building.

15.6.06

Random Goodness

Some stuff for you all to enjoy/ignore...

French DJ crew Birdy Nam Nam showing some amazing turntablism skills:



Catchy little tune, too.


Blue Man Group's wicked musical toys: Damn, I want these already!



These are now officially on my wish-list for this Christmas. You listening, Santa?

Finally, check out this phenomenal music video called "Tyger" by Guilherme Marcondes:




Low fidelity, high noise

Ever had one of those days when you feel like everything moves past you at lightening speed, that whenever you turn around there's a new task at hand, that for every phone-call you answer there are two more on hold, that for every form you archive there are ten more waiting to be reviewed? That you're working your butt off, sweating blood and tears, and that everyone just takes you for granted? That you're the only one who can answer the questions about how this and that product works, why there are items missing from the latest product delivery, why the server is down and how to use the credit card terminal? That the blood in your veins are 75% caffeine, that someone stole your lunch from the fridge (again) and that your boss just asked you to work overtime this weekend?

And when the day is over, and you leave your underpaid work (for which you are highly overqualified, of course) and return home to find that the only energy you have left barely lets you collapse on your coach in front of the TV/computer screen, only to doze of a few minutes later and wake up in the middle of the night, realizing you have to leave for work again in a couple of hours?

By Grapthar's Hammer, I'm glad I don't have a job like that!

Here, on the other hand, are some of the interesting characters you meet in my line of work (musical instrument sales):

  • The Auditionist: Enters the store at opening hours, finds himself (or rarely: herself) a chair and a guitar, and starts playing. Sometimes, they'll sing, too. Loudly. Not that I have anything against Creedence Clearwater Revival, but once you've heard "Rolling On The River" performed on an out of tune guitar by someone whose voice have a strong crow-like quality, it loses some of its charm.
  • The Worried Parent: While I can understand that buying a guitar/keyboard/kazoo for their child prodigy may be an arduous task, and that every musical instrument salesman (in their eyes) is as trustworthy as a used car salesman and only out to rob you of your hard-earned money (probably earned in a job as described in the opening paragraph of this blog entry), I do find it tiresome to be labeled as a jerk for not giving them a 30% discount on their high-quality 99$ beginner's instrument.
  • The Hardcore Haggler: Look, I know there is some kind of unwritten rule that you're supposed to haggle in a musical instrument store - heck, I'll even play along if there's the possibility for a sale in the horizon - but asking for a 50% discount because you bought your first guitar in the store 20 years ago is a little far-fetched and shows a disturbing lack of understanding about our mark-ups and the inner workings of a store. You know, actually making money off the products you sell and stuff?
  • The Manual-thrower: Manuals are scary things. Not only do they accurately describe the functionality and operation of that high-tech thingamajig you just unwrapped, it also contains wise words regarding the dos and don'ts of said thingamajig. So, while I am happy to explain to you that lowering your newly acquired gizmo into an acid bath may not be the best way of treating it, and yes - it will probably stop working if you do so, I do not have to listen to your complains about the product's failure to comply to your rigid quality expectations. It's a microphone. You plug it in. You sing. If your voice sounds horrible, it may have something to do with your voice, or the fact that you just put it in an acid bath.
Note: this is all written with tongue firmly in cheek. If you have ever bought an instrument from me and feel hurt by this, please let me know and I'll throw in a free kazoo the next time you buy some strings or a cable (it's hard enough to get rid of the blasted things as it is).

12.6.06

Poetry in motion

An exceptionally hot and slow day at work today, so I've written some off-the-wall poetry for you all to... ehm... enjoy. Ahem. *knocks on microphone* Is this thing on? Ok, here we go:

"Lament for a sales-person"

T'was the middle of June, on a day warm as Hell;
My shirt was getting sticky - my feet were as well.
Not a customer in sight, not one single soul;
We'd have to sell our grandmas to reach the budget goal.

I pondered this predicament; I pondered it long -
If I don't get my bonus, this will be my swan-song!
My mind was a flurry, my pulse raising high
- because of the coffee I just spilt on my thigh.

Then along came a maiden - and this was no tramp
- and ordered two cabinets and one Peavey amp!
And just after that a young lad made my day,
by buying a wireless system - whahey!

And thus my desperation was somewhat decreased,
by selling some products made in the Far East.
The moral, you say, to this long, dreary tale?
Get a job in Management, not in Sale. *

* I wish I could say that this last line you see,
was conjured, produced and then written by me.
It did not, however, come from my brain-stem
- this killer last line was written by M.


For this next little bit, I'd like to state that I've never watched more than 3 or 4 minutes of "The Apprentice" at a time: apart from the brain-numbing stupidity of the show, Mr. Trump's "hair" make me giggle uncontrollably.

"Ode to Donald Trump"

There are many a thing that I wish I could say,
'bout this fake piece of hair that we call a "toupee"
But the truth - short and sweet - 'bout this hairy chapeau?
No matter how elaborate, it still looks quite faux.


Let's all hope for some more action tomorrow, since more poetry of this calibre would surely threaten the sanity of both the author and the reader in the long run. You've been warned.

5.6.06

Strikers unite!

Another month, another strike here in Norway. This month, it's the banking and insurance people. Yeah, you heard me: the banking and insurance people. Right. What IS it with Norwegians and paralyzing strikes? Let's have a short recap of the year so far:

  • The fly-boys in SAS-Braathens are unhappy: all planes are on the ground (again)
  • The transporters union is unhappy: no food in the stores and public transportation brought to a halt (again).
  • The TV-journalists are unhappy: no commentary on your favourite sport shows (ehm... come to think of it, that's not too much of a loss).
  • The banking and insurance people are unhappy: no paychecks, none of your credit cards work. All this within a few months. Geez!

You know, you guys should get together. I mean, if you joined forces, you could TOTALLY paralyze Norway - how cool would that be! Planes on the ground, no public transportation, no food in the stores, no TV, no way to pay your bills and the stores won't accept your credit cards. Terrorists? Pfft! Who needs them! Let me lead you to unknown heights of supreme power: together, we can bring Norway to its knees! Join the Dark Side! Mwahahahahah!

I wonder if anyone would give a rat's ass if the noble (ahem) salesmen of Norway's musical instrument stores went on strike?



Anyone?



Hello?



Thought so. Hrmph.

24.5.06

Maybe I'm not that bad at this after all...

Those who know me, may be aware of the fact that I dabble in the arcane arts of songwriting: that is, trying to come up with more or less meaningful words and somewhat catchy melodies and then desperately trying to cover up my mediocracies with tons of heavily processed loops and washy synthesizers. Ahem. Thankfully, T's around to help me clean up the mess before we post the results on ye' olde interweb.

"Thou art not a Scribe of Magnificence, fool!"

Now, why am I bothering you with this dreary tale of artistic ordeals, I hear you cry? Ah, yes. Yesterday I found this:
50 Cent named Songwriter of the Year at the 23rd Annual ASCAP Pop Music Awards. Some of you might find that to be a good thing, some of you might find this to be a bad thing. Heck, some of you might even - like me - chuckle a little bit at this, and the general madness and hijinx that permeates the music business.

It should be know, I have never truly immersed myself in the lyrics of 50 Cent, but if lines such as "I'll take you to the candy shop, I'll let you lick the lollipop" qualify you as songwriter of the year with the ASCAP posse, then damn, my prowess as a lyricist suddenly made a quantum leap.

15.5.06

X3: Feel the Fury of Furry Frasier!

Now, seeing as I've reached the very start of my thirties with atleast a shred of dignity intact, I'll risk losing it all by once more demostrating what a complete X-Men fanboy I am: The extended clip of X3 over at the Dell site is nothing short of mouth-watering and spine-tingling, and left me crying for more:

X3 goodness right here, kids

Kelsey Grammar is nigh on perfect as Dr. McCoy, even if I had my doubts when I first saw him on the casting list. Damn.

Oh, and I'll start referring to people that are younger than me as "kids" from now on. It's so much fun, really.

No, really!

Hrmpf.

4.5.06

30 (Well, it's just twice as old as 15, really)

Alas, thus endeth my twenties; not with a bang, but with a whimper. But let us not mourn the things that be no more, but rejoice in the many, many wonderful things that enter their thirties the same year as I do!

So, here is my list of 30 great events from way back in 1976, which oddly enough is the year I was born. Go figure.

Music:


1. Kansas - "Leftoverture"
2. Eagles - "Hotel California"
3. Jean Michel Jarre - "Oxygene"
4. Kiss - "Destroyer"
5. Stevie Wonder - "Songs in the Key of Life"


Movies:

6. "Network"
7. "Taxi Driver"
8. "Rocky"

9. "One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest"
10. "All the President's Men"
11. "Carrie"
12. "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" (It turned me into a newt!)



Synthesizers:

13. The Yamaha CS-80
14. Roland System 700
15. The Arp Odyssey 3



Other noteworthy inventions:

16. The Inkjet printer
17. Atari's "Breakout"
18. The Cray-1 computer
19. The VHS tape



Events:

20. Viking 1 lands on Mars
21. Apple Computer founded!
22. First commercial flight of the Concorde
23. United States Bicentennial
24. Discovery of the Megamouth shark



People - Well, seems that there really weren't that many cool people born in '76, but here is a random selection anyway:

25. Dominic Monaghan
26. Ryan Reynolds
27. Melissa George
28. Fred Savage
29. Soleil Moon Frye
30. Colin Farrel

Coincidently, this appears to be my 60th blog post as well. Hah!


Ok, all together now: "Happy birthday to you..."

28.4.06

Theatre of Tragedy live at John Dee, Oslo

Went to the ToT concert at John Dee yesterday, it was pretty good! A whole lot of songs I didn't know, and it was kinda weird seeing Nell fronting a band that was not The Crest, but all in all I had a good time.


Ok, so they're crap cellphone photos but you get the idea. John Dee was about half-full, I reckon - which admittedly isn't that much, but then again: it was half-full at the Pain concert last year, too - but the audience was enthusiatic and the mood was good.


Thomas was in charge at the mixer, so the sound was good throughout the concert and pretty much spot on from the 4th song and out. Too bad they stumbled a little during "Fade" (my favourite song so far) but hey, nobody's perfect!

20.4.06

Happy Anniversary!

Well, a year has gone by since I began my journey into the wonderful world of blogging, and it is with much pride I can assure you all that the amount of meaningless drivel here has been held on a surprisingly high level.

So, instead of writing something profound and meaningful about what I have learned this last year, I give you this picture of some funny looking Suricata Suricattas (that's meerkats or suricates to you and me):


Heh.

6.4.06

Macs do Windows. SAS-Braathens does nada.

I'm not quite sure how I'm supposed to feel about this, but for those of you still residing happily beneath a rock:

Apple has let the cat out of the bag concerning running Windows on your Intel-based Mac. It's all very beta and "proceed at thy own peril" stylee so far, but you can actually grab it from the Apple site for a limited period:



It'll be part of 10.5 Leopard, it seems. Woopeedeedoo! I'll expect T to give me an indepth review as soon as he's tested it on his brand, spanking new MacBook Pro (I'm not the least bit jealous, by the way, you bastard).

On a sidenote, I'd like to extend my heartfelt sympathy to those poor, underpaid, hardworking people at SAS-Braathens - Norway's premier airline company - who are now on their, uhm, second (third? fourth? I lost count) strike in the last 4 months. You know, I really feel the general public is getting way to hung up on the entire transportation part of your company; I mean, it's not like you guys can't take the train or carpool every major holiday, now is it? Just because SAS-Braathens pretty much has monopoly on flying in Norway, are way overpriced and as reliable as a flock of Leprechauns on speed doesn't mean we should all criticize them the way we do. Really. I love you guys.


Just get me home for feckin Easter holiday, fools.

22.3.06

Guitar Hero - part deux

So, my dear readers, I guess you're all dying to know how my prowess as a guitar hero is coming along?
(deafening silence broken by a lone cricket... uhm... cricketing) Ahem, thank you, thank you.

Well, about 4 months in, I can now stumble my way through Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here" (the strumming part, not the finger-picking part), Dave Matthews' "Gravedigger" and semi-shred my way through a number of metal-tunes (I like power-chords, I really do) without sounding completely horrible. Just slightly horrible.

Also, I have discovered the fabulous invention that is "Drop-D tuning": Hah! Brilliant! Powerchording with just one finger! Of course, my highly skilled guitarplaying friends (M & K) do not approve of such simple shortcuts on the way to guitar-nirvana (guitarvana?). That doesn't stop me from doing it once in a while, though; good thing I began learning regular chords before I discovered the drop-D or I'd never have bothered trying to learn that dreaded C minor.


C minor sucks. I hate C minor, grrr.

14.3.06

3.14

8.3.06

What's wrong with me, Doc? (Microsoft Origami revealed)

(The room is softly lit, soothing classical music plays in the background. Bit is laying down on a comfortable-looking sofa, while the shrink is in his chair.)

"So, what seems to be the problem, Bit?"

"I've been feeling a little depressed, Doc."

"Really? And why do you think that is?"

"Well, Doc, as I'm sure you're aware of, the Microsoft Origami was revealed yesterday."

"Mmmm?" (Paper rustling, prepares to take down some notes)

"Yeah, it's this minitablet PC that's able to run both its own OS and Windows XP and even other x86-compatible operating systems. It's got a 7" touch-screen and is about the size of a paperback book. They say it will be able to play music and video, let you surf the web, write e-mails and edit documents. Some models might even include stuff like GPS, Bluetooth and cellular modems."

"Hmm. That sounds pretty cool, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it does, doesn't it..." (Sighs)

"So, what's wrong?"

"Well... the thing is... I don't really want it."

(Silence)

"Hmm, that's unusual. It is really portable, isn't it?"

"They say it will be two pounds or less."

"...Battery time?"

"They're aiming for a whole days worth, but that remains to be seen."

"And it DOES have a touch-screen, yes?"

"It does." (Sighs)

"Hmm." (Makes a few notes) "How long have you been feeling like this?"

"Ever since I saw the post on Gizmodo."

"A whole day?! Hmm, this is serious." (Makes some more notes)

"...what do you think is wrong with me, Doc...?"

"I think perhaps you might be suffering from a lack of GAS."

"Say what now?"

"G.A.S - Gear Aquisition Syndrome. You seem to the have a critically low amount of GAS."

"Oh my! What shall I do?" (Looks horrified)

"I suggest staying away from all the GAS-fuelled websites for a week or so. Also, try avoiding anything that is made out of brushed aluminium, anything with flat screens and in particular anything with blue or gray LEDs."

"..."

"Yes, I know it will be difficult, but during this period of gadget-celebacy you will allow your body to restock its natural GAS resources. Then, you'll be craving small, battery powered marvels of technology just like you used to."

"Wow. Thanks Doc, I'll do my best. How much do I owe you?"

"Well.... How much will the Origami cost?"

"Uhm... About $1000...?"

"Well, then you owe me a grand."

"Greedy b*stard."

"You know I'm worth it."

7.3.06

Fanboys rejoice: New X-Men 3 trailer out

(fanboy mode: engage)
Oh joy! A new X-Men 3 trailer has arrived, and it looks fantastic! Drama! Action! Fancy costumes! And, er, Kelsey Grammer as Beast. Not too sure about that one but hey, the make-up looks pretty cool.


And of course we all knew Jean would be back; like anyone actually believed she died in X2 - hah! Like anyone had to wipe a tear from the corner of their eye at that scene. Hah! Never.
(fanboy mode: disengage)


In other news: I'm getting old. My new cell-phone (the not completely un-cool Samsung D600E) is way too advanced for me. If anyone knows how to turn off T9 - this devilish invention that will degrade our vocabularies, shrink our brains and kill our souls (well, mine anyway) - please let me know. I'm going mad over here.



I do like the funny sounds it makes, though.

2.3.06

Warning: Blatant Self Promotion Ahead!

Gather round, dear readers - yes, both of you - I have an announcement to make: Theatre of Tragedy's "Storm" single is now available at most respectable online CD stores these days; as you might know, me and Kristian Sigland from The Crest have done a rather spiffy remix (the Tornado mix) under our Rustflower Inc. guise.


So, please run... ehm... surf to your favourite CD webshop and pick up a copy. Don't do it for yourself, do it for us. Seriously, we need the cash. No kidding.

1.3.06

Hey winter, I'm sorry

Dear Winter,

I have uttered some harsh words towards you in the past. Words like "suck", "overrated" and "Vin Diesel" (I'm particularily sorry about that one). So, I fully understand that you have retaliated in such a wicked manner. Winter, you're upset and I feel that I am to blame. Please accept this humble apology from a cold, wet and slightly depressed Bit:

I am sorry. I will never call you wicked things or mention Vin Diesel in the same sentence as you again. Ever.

Now, can we have spring back, please? She was here just a few days ago, before you scared her away. Please?

Yours,

Bit

20.2.06

The Monday List: Enough with the freakin' snow, already!

No, seriously. Stop it. It's not funny anymore. It's snow - we've seen it before. We're in Norway, remember?!

Anyway, here's my top 5 list for why Winter (in Norway) sucks:

1) It's cold: -20 feckin degrees outside where I live this morning. Geez!

2) It's wet: The snow clings to my feet and then melts in huge puddles of water in my hallway.

3) It's dark. Really, it's VERY dark. Like, Vin Diesel-y "Pitch Black" dark.

4) It's snowy. Yes, we've got plenty. It's like being trapped in a frickin Christmas Card. Puh-lease.

5) It's slippery. I've only fallen flat on my ass once so far this year, but still...

Winter's highly overrated.

13.2.06

Bit Back From London - It's all good!

So, back from a combined seminar/weekend in London, all exhausted and filled to the brim with fresh knowledge in the murky science of PA systems and sales techniques. Woot! Also pretty much filled to the brim with cheap lager, but that's a whole other story.

Now, you may like or dislike Peavey and their gear, but one simply cannot ignore the superior knowledge of their leading seminar holder here in Europe, Eric Lund; the big man is extremely knowledgable and yet he disperses this knowledge in a way that anyone can understand it. Kudos to you, Mr. Lund, you're a right good bloke.

I got to watch the "We will rock you" musical again, and I swear it was even better this time. And I'm not even THAT much of a Queen fan.

Also, I'm pretty sure I bumped into Pete Postlethwaite at one of the pubs near Soho, but I'm not gonna bet on it. It did look a lot like him though AND he gave me that "Oh my, seems someone has recognized me, better not come to this place again, then" look as he passed me by on the way out. Pete, sorry if I scared you away from your favourite pub - I probably won't be back in a while, so it's safe for you to go back now.

Finally, on the touchy subject of Norwegians (and Danes, for that matter) and the freedom of press, I'd just like to say that I'm firmly pro and con war, peace, politics, freedom, human rights, animal rights, amoeba rights, snow, slush, rain, expensive alcohol, cold coffee, stupid people, smart people, cartoons and Microsoft Internet Explorer. And I'll stand by that until someone tells me to do otherwise.



*sniff* Do I smell something burning...?

20.1.06

Gear-lust lost. Contact Bit if found.

Ah, January. This most joyous of months, with its taxes, bill pile-ups and crappy weather. Oh, and Winter NAMM in sunny California. So, what's the verdict (from my own, very subjective point of view) of this years gear-fest? Well:

- Roland releases yet another generic samplebased synth and virtual analog synth. Which looks like ALL Roland-gear has always looked like. Meh.

- Korg releases yet another generic samplebased synth, sorry - "workstation" - and virtual analog synth. Which, granted, looks slightly more interesting than Rolands efforts. Still: Meh.

- Clavia releases another Nord Electro. Meh.

- M-Audio releases a bunch of MIDI-controllers and stuff. Meh.

- Behringer blatantly rips off Mackie (again) with its Onyx, sorry - Xenyx - mixers, and - refreshingly, I might add - also rips off M-Audio's MIDI controllers. Meh.

- Digidesign releases... stuff. Again. At a ridiculous price. Meh.

- Akai releases the MPC. Again. With new colours. Again. And a disfunctional OS, probably. Double-meh.

- A bunch of softsynth/fx companies release a bunch of new stuff/upgrades to not so new stuff. Apple blows us away with its Logic Pro 7.2 update. That last part was a lie. It's meh. No, really.

- A bunch of analog synth companies release a bunch of new analog synths. Which I still can't afford/don't have room for. So, meh to all of you.

Well, am I getting jaded? Probably. Am I pretty much at the point where I have what I need to get things done? Probably. Where did my gear-lust go? I want it back. Now. Come on, gear-making-people. Give me back that feeling.



Also, I just finished a remix for Theatre of Tragedy together with my Rustflower Inc. compadre, Kristian. It is pretty cool.

What, didn't I blog that one? Damn.