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When I woke up Sunday morning I could tell it was about to start raining, and the notion took me to try RECording some it with my Sennheiser shotgun mic. I was mostly just curious to see whether I could do a decent job of it. But as a piece of ambient RECording, it could come in handy if anyone ever needs a rainy resource.

0:00 - 2:25 includes what may be the best thunder claps in the whole RECord

2:26 - 3:25 fairly heavy downpour

3:26 - 4:14  a bit of rolling thunder and driving rain at a slightly lower volume

4:15 - 6:49 driving rain at a higher volume with some thunder rolling about

6:50 - 8:18 the rain has let up a bit

8:19 - 9:00 heavy rain and some good thunder

9:01 - 12:16 long section of steady rain with rolling thunder and a very nice thunder clap

12:17 - 13:12 more thunder

13:13 - 14:23 isolating some on the drips just outside the window sill

14:24 - 19:57 longest excerpt, with the mic moving about the window to hear what the storm sounds like from each vantage


The usage of 'mom' is much more commonplace in American English than the usage of 'ma' everywhere this side of Little House on the Prarie, but both terms are abbreviated forms of 'momma' or 'mama'. All of these derive from the Latin word 'mamma', which means 'breast'. But there are maternal words very similar to 'momma' in languages that have no relationship to Latin. One possible explanation for this may be that babies are actually the original coiners of the words that refer to their mothers.

Linguist Roman Jakobson presented this idea in his paper, 'Why Mama and Papa?'. The first transitions that babies make from babbling to more articulated sounds usually involve the consonant sounds formed by closing their lips followed by the vowel sounds formed by simply opening their mouths. So 'ma', 'ba', and 'pa' are often among baby's first articulated sounds. And of those first sounds, 'ma' may be the sound that baby most easily associates with mother because of the act of nursing. The 'm' sound could reasonably be the most natural sound to make when suckling at mother's breast. 

So was baby really responsible for turning this sound into the name that baby will first use to refer to mother? Or is it more likely that mother played a part in coaxing baby to associate this first sound with herself? That's a chicken-and-egg question if ever I've seen one.

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Edited testimonial from Johnny and Dana RE: The Number 2, where Johnny relates a story about settling for his 2nd choice for the homecoming dance.

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I saw AndItsTooLate by theboxsets run across my dashboard this morning, and I thought it could make a great piece of audio for a bumper for The Future. Here 'tis.

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I knew when I read Metaphorest's RECord this morning that I wanted to do a reading of it. So I took the bait, gladly.

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I was inspired by the release of Weird Al's new album today, so much so that I decided to write a parody of the hitRECord variety. It's a parody of Nebulullaby, which premiered at Sundance 2010! It was really eery how the verses lined up so well with the season 2 episodes, but I think some of these verses could use some re-thinking.

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Every weekend everyone
Tunes in to Pivot, one by one
Beaming with pride
For what they've done
On HitRECord
In recent months

Up first an episode brand new
Regarding dear old number two
He's not a second-class bit part
When the second season starts

Secrets can hide
Under their shells
We'll find them soon
And let them spill
When Henry Adam writes Irmgard
His snark belies his Wood-worn heart

And fire is clad in orange and red
She is the most feared element
Don't bar the way to her desire
Lest you end up on the pyre

Nearby the controversy lies
The talk of guns that some despise
Keeping second amendment rights
Can't help us all sleep well at night

The future is so saturnine
For those convinced these are end times
Why the long face? You've got four bars
Because we have no flying cars!

When you're getting to know your mom
Make sure you're ready, keep your calm
Once mistaken for a bore
This lady lived it up before

Yonder is a kid in school
Doing homework while playing cool
Passing notes and skipping class
The glory days go by so fast

The shadows follow everyone
The dark plays games under the sun
With a sense of humor spun
These dark thoughts are so much fun

HitRECord on TV is
Collaboration among friends
I'll sing a TV lullaby
Work with us and don't be shy

Started for fun on the side
Then Joe suddenly realized
We can make what we have done
Into a show of TV love

We'll sing a TV lullaby
As our dreams light up the sky
We'll sing a TV lullaby
Work with us and don't be shy.


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Once there was a boy named Linus. Linus and his family lived in a cottage near a great forest. Every day Linus would run about and play in the edge of this forest while his father worked in a modest lumber yard nearby. He longed to go exploring deep into the forest, but he was never allowed to go so far that he could not hear the great saws at the lumber yard where his father worked. So Linus loved the dark hours of the night, because during those hours he could sneak into the back yard and pretend that he was exploring the dark heart of the forest.

One night while he was rambling through the make-believe forest in his back yard, Linus accidentally stumbled over the boards and fell into the well. A strange feeling came over him as he fell, and in a moment Linus suddenly felt so light and airy that it seemed he was not falling at all. He never remembered hitting the bottom of the well, and in fact he never remembered anything at all about his life before he fell down the well. He knew that he was different now than he was before, but he couldn't remember what he had been, or even that his name had been Linus. He asked himself again and again, what is my name? What is my name? After what seemed like a very long time, he thought he remembered that his name was Nilus. He was relieved that he could remember this name, and with a sigh he lay down and fell quickly to sleep right where he was.

When he awoke the next day, Nilus squinted into the air above him. As his eyes came into focus, he saw a great web of branches high above him, and a thick cover of leaves that blocked out every ray of the daytime sun. He realized that he must be deep in the heart of the forest that he had always longed to explore. But despite Nilus's excitement at this opportunity to begin his exploration, he found it very difficult to spring to his feet as he normally would. And when he looked to see what might be wrong with his feet, he was startled to see that he didn't seem to have any feet or legs at all. In fact, as he studied his whole body he noticed that he didn't recognize anything he saw. It seemed that he had lost almost all of his shape, and instead he had some sort of indefinite, ethereal form. What Nilus did not yet realize was that he was no longer a boy at all, but instead he was now a forest gloam.

The forest gloams were a mischievous gang of shadows that lived in the darkest depths of the forest. And even though gloams were known to live in all kinds of habitats all over the world, a forest like this one was considered to be the sort of utopia that any gloam would wish for. Not long after Nilus began wandering through the forest he met a forest gloam named Pinwisp. Pinwisp was very kind, and he explained to Nilus who the forest gloams were and what life was like as a forest gloam. At first Nilus was skeptical, because he'd always heard that gloams were very sad and very sluggish. But Pinwisp explained that forest gloams were different from all other gloams because the forest gave them the kind of environment where a gloam could thrive and live in contentment. As Nilus met more and more forest gloams he gradually became convinced that life with his new shadowy friends could be as exciting as he ever hoped life could be.

So Nilus loved life as a forest gloam, and over time he was able to explore the entire forest and meet all of the other forest gloams and form very special friendships with them. During the daytime all of the gloams would gather in the dark heart of the forest where none of the sun's rays could enter. But at night the gloams would often scatter throughout the forest, even to the very edges of the forest. Often Nilus and Pinwisp would spend much of the night in that edge of the forest where a boy named Linus had lived with his family. This little area felt special to Nilus, and so he was drawn there again and again without knowing the reasons why. And during the dark hours of the night, Nilus and Pinwisp loved to play their favorite game called Falling Down the Well. They loved the bundles of flowers arranged around the well and the remnants of old petals scattered nearby. They loved the beautiful stone with special markings that was planted near the well. They loved the wooden fence that encompassed the well and the special markings on the wooden planks all around that fence. They loved the thick new boards nailed firmly into place over the top of the well. But most of all, and even to this day, they love to shriek and squeal as they rise and fall and rise and fall again in the darkness of the stone-lined cylinder of their beloved old well.


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I love RECording voice for this kind of writing, it's so much fun for me. So there's no way I could resist taking a shot at the Getting to Know Your Mom project.

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Here's something silly that could inspire some ideas for a bumper for the RE: Your Mom episode, perhaps. Text-free because somebody else could easily do a much better job with that than I could.

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Do I think you should own a gun?


I think that every gun should be guaranteed the same freedoms that you and I enjoy. It's the 21st century, set the guns free! Abolish gun slavery!

Do I think that a gun should be able to marry another gun?

No again!

By definition, marriage means one gun and one knife. It's Smith and Wesson, not Smith and Beretta.

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In a solitary room two children stand facing each other in silence. Their arms are outstretched towards each other, physically holding the darkness at bay to keep it from spilling into the world they guard. They are engaged in a constant struggle to balance the darkness between them as though they were metallic barriers opposing some unseen magnetic force. Young Olaf and Gelsomina were born to this unrelenting task, and they are locked into the darkness they hold between them. They are engulfed in the shroud they are sworn to keep at bay. Their small determined limbs circumscribe a gentle circle that conducts the surging current of night between them without letting it seep past them into the world that they have never yet seen with their own eyes.

A nightingale is perched in the east corner of the cramped room. She sings songs of sustenance that nourish the children as they perform their duties. The nightingale's song is their food and their sleep, their drug and their conversation. The bittersweet song serves as the umbilical cord for the children, and it permits them to be devoted ceaselessly and tirelessly to their duties. The wordless melodies paint pictures for Olaf and Gelsomina of the world that they protect and the people that inhabit it. The nightingale's voice is the most beautiful sound anyone from the outside world has ever known. But the nightingale has such profound respect and admiration for these two children that she only ever sings her songs for them.

In the west corner of this solitary room stands a giant hourglass. According to the legends portrayed in the nightingale's song, the hourglass measures the time that the children must continue to perform their duties. If and when the sands ever run out, the children will be freed from their lives of service so that they may live as honored heroes in the outside world. The nightingale's song foretells of another pair of children who will be born with the same gifts that Olaf and Gelsomina use to keep the darkness contained. It takes a great deal of strength to resist the urge to watch the sands trickle down in the giant hourglass, almost as much strength as it takes to fend off the menacing midnight fog that requires the children's full devotion.

Days pass unsuspectingly in the outside world as the sands continue to trickle slowly down, and the nightingale continues to sing, and young Olaf and Gelsomina continue to make their stand in the secret, solitary room of their young existence.


This is an expansion on mushr's wonderful ideas presented a few days ago in her RECord called The Century (volume one). I introduced the nightingale into that setting she created and elaborated on some of the other ideas. It has been too too long since mushr and I last swapped ideas through RECords like these. 

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Yo mama's so dumb that she thinks Verdi composed Der Ring des Nibelungen.

Yo mama's so dumb that she thinks Antonioni made films with just as much transhistorical interiority as Bergman's films.

Yo mama's so dumb that she sees no similarities between the "Scherzo" movement in Tchaikovsky's Piano Sonata in C-sharp minor and the "Spring" "Largo" movement from Vivaldi's Four Seasons.

Yo mama's so dumb that when anyone mentions historically significant librettists she only talks about Metastasio.

Yo mama's so dumb that she dismisses the artistic value of Greek vases because she thinks they actually originated in Etruria DESPITE the preponderance of Greek inscriptions.

Yo mama's so dumb that she thinks American Abstract Expressionism was just a politically-motivated response to Socialist Realism because that was the aesthetic preference in Soviet-era Russia.


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Isle: Family Herbert: Iteration

Isle: Society Herbert: Electromagnetism

Isle: Morality Herbert: Instrumentation

Isle: Existentialism Herbert: Technology

Isle: Music Herbert: Oscillation

Isle: Life Herbert: Infrastructure

Isle: Ethics Herbert: Prototyping

Isle: Religion Herbert: Weaponization

Isle: Spirituality Herbert: Virtualization

Isle: Poetry Herbert: Mathematics

Isle: Eternity Hebert: ...

Days pass as Herbert stands in silence.

Isle: Herbert? Herbert: Yes Isle? Isle: What game do you want to play now?


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