I can has cheezburger?

The internet is a wild frontier.

It has its founders, its architects, its leaders, and its supporters and critics. The internet is filled with predators and prey alike, hoaxers and debunkers, and it boasts heroes and jesters and unwitting celebrities — not unlike the physical realm.

And because of the very nature of the internet, the line between heroes and jesters is often so blurred that one is given to wonder if they’re not one and the same thing in this beta version of the final frontier.

Rewind back to 9/11 after which a certain photo of a tourist supposedly taken on top of one of the WTC towers moments before the first plane’s impact surfaced in everyone’s in-boxes. I also received the pic, forwarded by an otherwise astute and intelligent friend who fell for the hoax, hook, line and sinker — and for quite some time thereafter, the WTC-guy turned up as an accidental witness to numerous historic disasters. It’s an incident where a jester became an unlikely “hero”, finally falling from grace as his own efforts were photoshopped by other jesters and appeared all over the web.

Everyone stands the chance of becoming the next global village idiot.

Fame and success in the internet world can be measured by the number of imitations and parodies and fan sites and pop culture cross-references a simple picture, phrase, act, video (or a combination thereof) spawns — especially when these escape into the real world or traditional media. Surely, if people “get” the joke and run with it, then it must be really funny or entertaining or relevant or… “priceless”. Right?

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Cassette Culture Untangled

TDK, BASF, Maxell, Denon, and Sony: Once, these were among the most important words in the teenage lexicon.

For those who couldn’t strum a guitar, a mix tape was the ultimate expression of youthful (self-)obsession.

That era of post-punk, during which cassette culture flourished, presaged today’s music scene. It was an age of garage bands and DIY recordings, and as young fans started to copy and share each other’s music collections, it didn’t take long before somebody claimed that –Home TakingThe advent of the iPod, downloads and peer-to-peer networks seemed certain to consign the old analogue cassette tape to cultural oblivion, but in music, it seems, that what goes around doesn’t just come around again; it’s simply rewound!

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Virals and their hosts

While we’re on the topic of cartoons, here’s a batch of favourites from the most creative period: the late 80’s — an era spent mostly behind a desk, pretending to study and absorb information and knowledge passed on largely by people who hadn’t quite mastered the intricacies of the English language.

Scribbling helped pass the time.

The first thing that strikes me about the selection is that I’ve got some quality time with my old cartoons and a more modern scanner coming up in the indeterminate future. These scans are paltry!

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Of cassettes and cartoons

In 1990, I found myself working in Marshalltown.

A horrible place, in hindsight. At the time I didn’t have an own car and had to rely on public transport. That meant waiting for the bus. Lots of waiting because there were all of five buses on weekdays between home and anywhere else. “Elsewhere”, at least, included the bus terminus near Marshalltown plus a 10-minute walk to work.

And waiting for the bus meant killing time. Lots of it. So much so that every shop and store in the vicinity became boring after a while… bar one: the CNA down the road. Or, more specifically, the book section of the CNA down the road. It was a particularly quiet CNA, one that I had never visited before or since my Marshalltown tour of duty during which months I must’ve gone through just about every book on every conceivable subject that one could consume in the hours of waiting for the bus. Although I’m quite confident I left no bookmarks or dog-ears, some literature was interesting enough that that I regularly just continued reading where I had left off the day before.

And then I discovered the mother lode: Gary Larson.

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Ghosts in the cassette shell

The Tape2MP3 project is making slow but certain progress.

We’ve got it down to a finely-tuned and timed routine, where a C90 takes an average of about two hours of actual work to convert: a minute or so to adjust levels prior to the unavoidable 90 minutes of listening while recording/importing; then another five minutes of cleaning up, testing/setting noise reduction filters and a bit of fine-tuning, and perhaps even some minor editing thrown in for good measure — although I do aim to keep the final MP3 as near as possible to the original tape (warts and clicks between original copying/taping sessions and tracks included).

Once that’s done, the old 933MHz Pentium workstation takes another 15 or so minutes to write the resulting .wav file before the whole process is repeated for the next tape. The final conversion to .mp3 is done in bulk, which I usually just leave the machine running overnight for.

Of course, it can’t all be fun and games: we’ve had about three tapes so far that got munched by the tape deck, and another snapped… but nothing that a screwdriver, a pen and some sticky-tape can’t fix!

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Audio tapes are dead!

On Monday I picked up another 300+ audio tapes for my upcoming project/s.

Some people apparently cannot get rid of their own old and dated media soon enough and most are very generous when doing so — as is evident by the usually careful and sometimes even “loving” packing they use to send me along with when I come around to collect their old tapes.

Needless to say, and without exception, all people are curious and interested as to what exactly one would be doing with the thousands of old tapes (I’ve honestly lost count) that I’ve accumulated so far. Many have even asked if they’ll eventually get used as material for some work of art, like Brian Dettmer has become famous for. Continue reading

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Xenophobia, part 2

The bloodbath is over, apparently all quiet on the southern front.

The death toll has reached 62 (some people just take longer to die).

The “Burning Man” has been identified (35-year old Ernesto Nhamuave of Mozambique) and buried.

Meanwhile, Zimbabwean billionaires who remain less than optimistic about their own free country’s blossoming future and negligible inflation rate continue to find holes in the border fence and flock to South Africa in droves.

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Flames of hatred and xenophobia

Three days ago, I received an email from a Ugandan ex-colleague.

It contained snippets of news articles as well as several rather disturbing and terribly saddening images of the madness and mayhem that ensued after a series of violent attacks on foreigners (mostly African nationals) across South Africa.

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