And So It Begins
Here's some voiceover commentary for the first quarter of the Capture the Flag game. This track is synced up with the video rough cut, so the first 16 seconds of the track are silent. I'll also upload a video version showing what it sounds like over the video, once I get it to render.
Here is the voiceover commentary for the second quarter of the Capture the Flag game. The track is synced up with the video rough cut, so the first 10 seconds of the track are silent. The video version of this is rendering now, I'll upload it in a few.
This is the voiceover commentary for the third quarter of Capture the Flag. The track is synced up with DTA's video rough track, so the first 18 seconds of the track are silent. I'll upload a video version of this as per usual.
This is the voiceover commentary track for the fourth quarter of Capture the Flag. The track is synced up with DTA's video rough cut of the game, so the first 26 seconds of this RECord are silent. The upload of the video version is forthcoming... or should I say FOURTHcoming??? (Editor's note: no I shouldn't)
I just uploaded a voice-only track with my voiceover commentary for the first quarter of the Capture the Flag game, and here is what the video rough cut looks like with that commentary track on top of it. The commentary-only track can be found at http://www.hitrecord.org/records/1400053.
I uploaded a voice-only audio RECord with second quarter commentary, and here is what the video rough cut looks like with the commentary on top of it. The commentary-only track can be found at http://www.hitrecord.org/records/1401547.
This is just a story about a guy thinking out loud about forming a family band.
So that's it, then. We'll go to the five-and-dime, buy matching vests and top hats, and form a family band. We'll take to the road in my four-door sedan and shlep around whatever instruments we can keep strapped on top. Maybe I could even invent a new strap designed especially for family bands, and that will help support us financially while we're in the "learning how to play musical instruments" phase. We'll only play in cities that end in -ville or -anooga, and make records that can only be purchased at truck stops. In between songs we can take turns telling stories about my childhood memories. In fact, that'll be the most important part of the show. I'll tell the story about the lighting factory that was across the street from the drive-in theater in my hometown, and how I wasn't familiar with the word "lighting", so I just imagined that the sign was misspelled, and so I thought that it was actually a factory that made lightning. And I was so worried about the lightning factory being so close to the drive-in theater, because what would happen if some of the lightning escaped from the factory and struck the big drive-in screen, because maybe nobody would know that it was real lightning, they might think it was just part of the movie, and then everybody at the drive-in would be killed by lightning. But I thought my uncle was so cool because he worked at the factory, so his job was to help make lightning, plus he lived in a house that was right next to a junk yard, so he could see piles and piles of wrecked cars anytime he wanted to, and I wanted to be just like him. And the whole time I'm telling this story, if it's my turn to tell the story, the rest of you could be stacking our top hats into a pyramid, and that could be our thing, since no other family bands build top hat pyramids during their shows. And after we become famous and wealthy, we'll play fewer and fewer shows, and make fewer and fewer records, and eventually we won't be a band anymore, we'll just be a family. But we can still drive to our favorite cities in my four-door sedan, but it would be more like a vacation, and people would still recognize us because we would still be wearing our vests and top hats, and they would say hi to us when we eat in the restaurants we ate in as a family band, but now we'd just be a family. And even if we never become that successful as a family band, it wouldn't be so bad if we eventually had to get other jobs and stop being a family band, because we could still be a family. It wouldn't bother us, because eventually we might forget we were ever in a family band, we would just think of ourselves as a family, except when we see some of our records when we go to truck stops, and then we would tell stories about the time when we were a family band. Then we would leave the truck stop and go home, and go back to just being a family.
There was a time when I had a single, clear memory of you I remember the sweetness and the sorrow of that memory But I don’t remember the memory itself The idea of that memory has been whitewashed The details have been blurred or else discarded A new clarity has been conjured, manufactured, forged So, yes When you ask if I remember I will say that I do And in a way I do And I will smile in a way that should let you know That I have no idea who you really are Because if I remembered now what I did remember back then The smile would be different Somehow. The first domino falls Where once there was remembering, there is only forgetting The years pass. I’ve found a new happiness While keeping up an old habit I sit in front of the screen Playing back my recorded memories Passing the darkest hours of the night Watching scenes captured and stored From thousands of ordinary days Searching for a flash of recognition And when I get that first sensation of drifting off I will pause the recorded memory at that very moment And take that frozen moment, whatever the moment And remember I forget everything else And make that one distorted image the thing I remember.
I was interested in seeing if I could reRECord some really great text RECords into another text RECord - not something I often think of doing. I bookend-ed this with pieces of "I See Legs", which is something I wrote during my first week as a hitRECorder back in July.
And the truth is
On any other night
She would have been a blur
Blowing past my car window.
But there I was
Waiting to cross the busiest street in town
When without a sound,
Without so much as a shadow
She glided up to the corner
And then ebbed gently back
Toward the lamp post
Where yellow light
Sprayed down the back
Of her black dress.
And the truth is
The walking wasn't so bad.
The light flurries could be
Called the cold kiss of January -
She had sloppy lips though
And got specks of spit
On my cheeks
And in my eyes.
And the truth is
The first words I said
Didn't come from my mouth.
The first thought I thought
Didn't start in my head.
I was unwillingly bound to someone else.
I didn't know what was going to happen to me.
But I wanted to break free
So I cut the ropes.
And the truth is
I wasn't like you
A bruised fruit
Fallen off a tree
Shining on the ground
For everyone to see.
And the truth is
You looked like you were made of chalk
You looked like you had never been living,
Had never blinked, had never made a joke.
Reality fell away
I found myself lying face-up
Under the bed
Staring at the brown weave
Like it was a magic-eye puzzle.
I had left my feet in the hallway.
I had swallowed my tongue.
The bones in my body had disintegrated.
And the truth is,
I will never hear your voice again.
So please, I asked, play this one last.
Soft, so we can hear the men cry.
You became so small.
A stamp or a xerox copy.
You nor I will ever know when to heal.
And the truth is
I fingered smiley faces
Onto dew-covered car windows
While walking to the train from your house.
In the morning,
While owners drove to work,
Light would catch their windshields
Revealing the filthy ghosts
Of my self-expression.
And the truth is
Since I boarded this bus
I've been trying to escape you,
But you are a bird.
You are a bird that travels with me.
You are hidden in the heart of every tree.
I blink away the memory.
I don't know where I am,
But it seems far enough away
And I need some fresh air.
This ache is stretched across the length of me.
And the truth is
My feet feel detached from the rest of me
As I kick at the place where the cuff of my pants should be.
My knees are locked in place
And my legs are bound by the same hypnotic spell
That flicked my senses into a drifting dream.
The traffic relents
And she leaks away from the corner
And across the intersection.
She never even noticed
The witless shell of a man
Left floating in her wake.
A shadow embarks bearing a heavy load
Having recently been asked in a fairly public forum when I'm going to write something for the Shadow Caste collaboration, it got me thinking about how I could "fit in there". Attilee just asked a couple of days ago for some world building, and that got me thinking some more. This might fall into the category of world building, for at least one small part of the shadow world. It might be an idea that needs some more development, if it inspries any ideas. It feels to me like it's just the start of an idea.
I'm not a big fan of the ending for this one. Has anyone got any bright ideas?
Tori recently created a couple of characters named General Apathy and Major Boredom. RKBear mentioned at one point that those two characters should team up. I was inspired, and I thought it'd be fun if they were best friends, and very silly in a child-like way.
Major Boredom ran up to General Apathy, smacked him on the baldest spot of his head with the smelliest part of his hand, and cried out, "General Apathy! Guess what!"
Dazed by this latest attack from his best friend in the world, General Apathy squeaked a little bit to commemorate his pain, shrugged his shoulders with all of his might, and said, "What the devil is it, you old horse thief?!"
Major Boredom laughed with all of his belly, clapped his hands together, and said, "I have a major announcement to make: I love swimming! This concludes my major announcement, so now I must fly on my personal aeroplane to an important meeting in Tahiti!" Major Boredom began running in small circles around General Apathy, and as he ran he extended his arms as if he were an aeroplane. "I love swimming, and running, and skipping, and climbing, and cavorting, and doing this!" And Major Boredom thrust his hand across his body, under his arm pit, and feverishly began making arm pit fart sounds.
General Apathy began clapping and giggling with delight. He thought arm pit fart sounds were the best, and Major Boredom knew it. General Apathy reached for his briefcase and said, "Hey, you've got to see this! I was walking down the avenue, looking in the windows of the shops along the avenue, and I saw something, and I knew instantly that I had to buy it for you!" General Apathy thrust both arms into the gaping maw of the briefcase, like a cliff diver plunging into the the icy depths of an exotic oceanic briefcase. As both of his elbows disappeared inside the modestly-sized briefcase, his expression became suddenly quiet. Major Boredom could tell that his friend was trying to create an atmosphere of suspense, so he dropped his jaw in mock anticipation of the overwhelming feeling of utter disbelief and awe. General Apathy slowly lifted his hands from the briefcase, cradling what looked like a mason jar full of bees. He was brimming with excitement as he said, "It's a mason jar full of bees! The dream is now a reality!"
The combined buzzing of the bees inside the mason jar was impressive as it filtered through the crude holes that had been jabbed in the metallic lid. Major Boredom broke into a mild grinning sweat as the jar was thrust into his welcoming bosom. He was speechless for a moment, overwhelmed by the generosity of his thoughtful friend. The bees grew anxious as the tremors of sheer delight began to radiate throughout their makeshift glass house. Major Boredom regained his mastery of language and said, "You have said well that the dream is now a reality, friend of friends. Every day of my life until now was merely a prelude to this great new bee-filled existence!"
General Apathy was overwhelmed with delight by this response. He longed to hear more, so he asked Major Boredom, "Would you, by any chance, have any kind of sensation that resembles the feeling of being born anew?"
Major Boredom began nodding his head with vigor and said, "This is an extraordinary coincidence, because I was mere moments from exclaiming that I indeed do feel that I have been born anew!"
General Apathy slapped his knee, then slapped his friend's knee, and continued along the same conversational lines. "If I were to muster the courage to allege that your current euphoric condition has suddenly rendered you capable of hearing what can only be described as a choir of angels, would my allegation be the sort of thing that you could verify as being accurate?"
A look of solemnity overtook Major Boredom's countenance, and with a serious tone he said, "You have literally taken the words directly from my mouth, my good man! I could very nearly believe that you saw the words 'choir of angels' forming on my lips, so near was I to speaking that very phrase!"
General Apathy found himself in the throes of mind-altering cheerfulness, and he continued confidently with this line of questioning. "Would it be a stretch, in any sense of the word, to suggest that your mental and emotional states are conspiring to convince you at this very moment that the answers to the great riddles of life are now available to you in a way that they have never been made available to you before?" He was squirming very near the speed of light toward the brink of his chair as he finished this latest question.
Major Boredom neither flinched nor blinked before launching headlong into his response. "I feel certain that the answers to the great riddles of life are now seeping into my eye sockets by way of this heavenly shaft of light that has just now engulfed me." He then shrugged his shoulders to commemorate that bit of the conversation and said, "It's just the greatest thing ever, having this mason jar full of bees."
General Apathy finally sat back in his chair to relax, exhausted from the battering he had taken from these waves of delight. He winked to his friend and said in a surprisingly subdued voice, "It really is the greatest thing ever."
Yesterday Steve was trampled by a dinosaur, somehow.