I had a friend who had an inverse fairy godmother. She would always grant the opposite of whatever he wished for. If he wished to go see a concert somewhere, she would wave her wand and it would guarantee that we wouldn’t get to the concert, but something else really good would happen, always better than whatever wish he had. His life was always full of unexpected and amazing events.
This made him very popular, because when you were hanging around with him, you never knew what was going to happen, but that it was going to be good. His friends thought this was awesome and it seemed like his fairy godmother was benefitting them more than him. It’s not that he didn’t also benefit from his inverse wishes, but he was constantly frustrated that none of his wishes ever came true. He seemed unaware that he lived a charmed life. He wasn’t even aware that his fairy godmother existed, but I had seen her.
Still, he was relatively happy despite himself and had a good sense of humour. He never learned to stop wishing for things, though or to wish aloud for the opposite of what he actually wanted. He just smiled and carried on, surrounded by his friends.
And then I woke up and all the specifics of this dream faded from my mind, as dreams do, but the general plot remained. Weird, innit
Tag: celesteh
Adventures in American Healthcare
A few days before I left England, my ear began to itch, in the spot where I used to have a cartilage piercing. I didn’t worry about it, but scratched at it, absentmindedly, thinking I really should do something about it but then forgetting. Then I got on a 10 hour flight, followed immediately by a 16 hour train ride. I got to my dad’s house and felt exhuasted and my ear was irrated to heck. I caught a glimpse of it in the mirror and my entire ear was red enough that I could step in for Rudolph and save Christmas, in case a holiday movie suddemly formed around me.
My dad took me to see a doctor at an “urgent care clinic.” This is American for a walk-in clinic. First, a nurse took my contact details and then told me to wait in the lobby. The primary feature of this was a large flatscreen TV showing adverts for prescription drugs. “Feeling stressed? Ask your doctor about Damitol. Damitol can help with burts of impotent rage. Do not take Damitol if you are already taking Fukitol. Side effects of Damitol may include becoming red faced, excessive sputtering and fatigue. Damitol works best when combined with diet and exercise. . . .” Blah blah blah. They had a 5 or 10 minute advert for a diabetes drug. Then they had a minute or two of random health-related information, then another advert. It was all branded as CNN Health.
“This is weird.” I said to my dad.
“I think it’s just general information about insulin . . . oh. That is weird.”
A nurse took me back, weighed me, took my blood pressure, pulse and temperature and asked about allergies. All interactions with healthcare providers in the US start with weight, blood pressure, etc. I explained about my ear, which was significantly less red by then. She took notes and left.
A moment later, the doctor came in and I repeated my story. He looked at my ear for 5 seconds and prescribed sulfa antibiotics. “They’re cheap,” he explained. I asked something about my ear and he said it was probably a staph infection and they tend to respond to sulpha.
“Staph?!” I thought.
“Unless it’s MRSA,” he continued.
I quit listening to his list of dire diseases. I asked about side effects and he started talking about posssible allergic reactions. “In the worst case your mouth and tongue will swell up and . . .”
“I just wanted to know if it was ok to drink or not.” I interrupted.
“If you drink, it will make the allergic reaction hit more quickly . . .”
I stopped listening again. Then I went out to the front to pay. Actually, my dad paid. It was over $100. Then we went to a pharmacy, where the drugs were only $14. They really were quite cheap.
The pharmacist explained that they might upset my stomach, etc. i had forgotten that in the States, you get this information from pharmacists and not doctors. Probably because we were in Washington state, she didn’t mention that I should stay out of the sun.
So I started taking antibiotics, wondering if my British GP would have prescribed them. he certainly would have poked my ear several times first. I also started putting hot compresses on it. It hurt if anything touched it, so no wearing headphones or hats or sleeping on that side.
Last night, on the 8th day, it was bright red again. And still hurting and warm to the touch this morning, so I resolved to go to a clinic. I called the one closest to my house. They weren’t answering, so I called another which was taking a holiday and then another and another. Every clinic seems to be closed today, except for one 3 miles away, which said it was open, but the recptionist was busy. I cycled over. It was closed.
Finally, I tried the Berkeley Free Clinic and was startled when a person answered. I described my woes. “You need to be seen,” he said, but they couldn’t see me before Monday. “Do you have money or insurance?” The person asked. Money, yes. Insurance, no. He suggested that I go to Highland Hospital. “They have an urgent care clinic. Go to the emergency room and they’ll direct you.”
I faffed around for a bit and finally got on a bus. Highland is an emergency-only hospital with a reputation for highly organised, professional helpful staff in the midst of the complete chaos.
I asked for the urgent care clinic and was told it had closed down. They said they just do it all in emergency now. The intake person said it was fine that I wasn’t having an emergency and took my ID and told me to sit.
I got called up to a triage desk and a nurse took my temperature pulse and blood pressure and asked about allergies and past illnesses. “When was your last tetnus shot?” Then she asked what the problem was and gave me a red wristband to indicate that I have allergies. She told me to wait in a different room.
I got called back to a different desk where I was asked for ID again, address, emergency contact information, mother’s maiden name, social security number, whether I had a job and a GP and many other questions. “Did you come by car or bus?” Then, she told me to wait again.
A nurse called me and walked me over to a bunch of cublicles. “Wait here for a moment.” He said and then vanished. A while later, a woman introduced herself as a doctor and I repeated my entire tale of woe. She looked in my ears and then prodded my ill one a bit. She said it was a minor infection and would probably go away on its own, but decided to prescribe me new antibiotics. She told me to keep sitting there and a nurse would come.
The nurse had the prescription forms. “You have to take these every 6 hours, which is a pain in the ass.” She looked at my warm, but no longer red ear and wondered why I had been given a prescription at all. She lead me to wait for a financial advisor. While waiting, I heard an announcement calling the trauma team to assemble, saying a type 2 trauma would be arriving in 8 minutes.
The financial person asked if I had a job and for ID. I said I worked in England. “So you’re not a resident of California?” Well, I kind of am, I’m just studying abroad. I gave her my expired drivers lisence. It has the wrong name on it. This did not help clarify matters. She said I would need to provide pay stubs to prove my income. I said they were in England. She sent me to wait to talk to her supervisor.
I looked at the information provided to me while I waited. “Cellulitis usually clears up on its own.” No mention of staph or mrsa. The financial person called me back.
“You’re not a resident here.” We began again. I finally gave up. She asked what had happened during my visit. “Oh, that won’t cost much anyway.”
“How much will it be?”
They don’t tally it up for a couple of weeks. In my experience, a trip to an emergency room is at least $400, so I really hope this will be billed as if their clinic still existed.
I took the prescription to Walgreens pharmacy, despite knowing that they have a 1000% markup on some drugs, including ones I got from them in the past. 7 days of the new antibiotic cost $60, but if I spend $20 to enroll on their discount program, I could get it for $30. Obviously, they have a large markup on antibiotics also. Charming. I enrolled in the program. The form I got explained that it was not health insurance. No kidding.
Post Script
The bill from Highland came out to $283, which is a lot less than I’d anticipated.
I wasn’t dreaming of a white Christmas
Yesterday, I sat on an airplane for five hours and when I got off the plane, my ears were uneffected, I had no jetlag and my carbon footprint was minimal! Unfortunately, this is because my flight was cancelled.
I was worried that forecast snow might stall all trains to the airport, so I’d arrived hours early. I knew they had de-icing equipment at the airport, so I wasn’t too worried about the planes. But as I was eating lunch, I glanced out the window and saw whiteout snow. I could barely see the airplanes at all and couldn’t see across to the adjacent terminal. It was beautiful, but also alarming. Then, after abuot 20 minutes, the skies turned blue and the sun started shining again. Amazingly, there were a few minutes where the sun was shining and it was snowing at the same time. Does this cause rainbows ( or snowbows)? I wondered.
It was all over very quickly. I wasn’t surprised when my plane boarded a bit late and also not surprised when they said we had to wait for a de-icer. I was, however, surprised by how long we sat at the gate. I read in news reports later that they couldn’t deploy all their de-icers because they had no place to park planes while they were being de-iced. So planes were ordered to stay at the gates. However, this caused a problem for landing planes, since the gates were all full. Thus planes full of arriving passengers sometimes waited for 4 or 5 hours to get to a gate. In the mean time, they parked them near the de-icers.
It might be because I have an undergraduate degree in Computer Science and thus have studied logistics a wee bit, but I could think of a solution to this problem . . ..
After five hours, our plane was delayed so long, I was started to get worried about arriving after BART shut down and this may have been why, with only 4 planes ahead of us in the queue, our flight was cancelled.
It wasn’t all bad spending so many hours on the plane. The cabin crew was helpful and polite and people chatted amicably with each other. The in-flight entertainment system was working. It was exactly like being in the air, except that we weren’t. I think that it would a perfect thing for somebody who was afraid of flying. They could have the whole experience as a kind of a dry run.
Once I got off the plane, however, things were a bit more chaotic. I had to clear immigration, which was a long queue and then the baggage reclaim area was chaotic. It was mobbed with hundreds of people from cancelled flights plus all the people who were finally getting released form their planes that had been waiting. The computer screen which said what carousel to go to was not giving any meaningful information, so I asked an employee and he seemed on the brink of hysterics, from not knowing anything (while at the same time being as friendly and polite as possible). After maybe an hour, there started being announcements, “If you are from a cancelled long haul flight, you baggage will be on carousel 3, 4, 5, or 6 . . ..” Some enterprising traveler and his friends split up, each monitoring one carousel, so when bags marked SFO started appearing on number 4, he got a call and then walked around the reclaim area loudly announcing “San Francisco bags are on number 4!” This is what I love about Bay Area culture, actually. Friendly, helpful and loud!
I went through customs and then got to the arrivals lounge which was heaving with people, who had been waiting for hours for passengers who had landed but not alighted. Frequent announcements indicated that the airline was very sorry that nobody had been given any information whatsoever. Other announcements encouraged those on canceled flights to sort out rescheduling on the BA website instead of queuing at the airport. I decided to follow that advice and got on a tube.
I texted Paula and she told me to come around fora cuppa, so I did, despite it being quite late. I brought my laptop and searched in vain for the rebooking link that British Airways kept claiming existed. I couldn’t find it anywhere, so I handed my laptop to Paula and started trying to call the airline. Paula couldn’t find the link either and a recording at the airline’s phone number told me they were very busy, so I should try calling again later.
Finally, after 2AM, I got hold music! Yay, I was on hold and they hadn’t hung up on me! I stayed on hold for an hour, while trying to find out any information at all about what was going on. I discovered that the best and most reliable way to get information from the airline was via twitter, but their tweeters had all gone home an hour or two earlier.
I use twitter. I think microblogging is fabulous and I’m glad to see somebody making good use of it, but in this case, I have to say that they really needed to also update their actual website and/or their phone message. It took quite some time before it occurred to me to even check twitter. And, indeed, if they’re going to make that the only reliable way to get any information, then they need to announce that someplace else, like on their website or their phone message. It was at this moment that I began to get a bit annoyed. I was even more annoyed when I realised, after 3 am and more than an hour on hold, that their call center was closed and nobody was going to take me off hold until it reopened at 6 am.
I went home and set my alarm clock for 5:59, but when I called, the phones were already overwhelmed and hung up on me. I kept retrying until 7 am, when I finally got through to being on hold. This time, the hold music was accompanied by spoken messages actually telling me that I was on hold. I put it on speaker phone and tried to stay awake until somebody finally picked up at 9:30.
I will be on the same flight on Tuesday, 21 December. This should land before 18:00 and give me enough time to get to Emeryville to catch me 22:00 train to Oregon, which arrives in Portland in the middle of the afternoon on 22 December. I am going to have an alarming odor by the time I arrive. Fortunately, I should be able to sleep on the train and I will still get to see my family, which is what motivated me to wake up after so little sleep.
And now I’m typing this out, in a haze of exhaustion. But hey, no jetlag, at least.
Not Shopping at Amazon
Dear Sir or Madam,
I was distressed to read in the Guardian that you quit hosting wikileaks’s website (http://www.guardian.co.uk/media/2010/dec/01/wikileaks-website-cables-servers-amazon). I had intended to do all of my Christmas shopping with Amazon.com, but instead, I’ll find an online retailer who does not practice censorship. I’m very disappointed by this and I hope you change your mind.
Thank you for your time,
C Hutchins
Sooooo….. anybody got any suggestions about from where I should mail-order gifts for my family in the US?
First of all, I think the wikileaks thing is really cool. On the one hand, it is a problem for diplomats if they can’t write frank assessments for fear of seeing them in newspapers. But, on the other hand, there’s so much unnecessary and undemocratic secrecy that the embarrassment of the diplomatic corps is a small issue by comparison.
Also, the leaks don’t seem to be actually making the US look as bad as I thought they would. The bad behaviour (bombing and lying about it) was already fairly well known. I didn’t know, however, that the US was being pressured by Arab states to declare war on Iran. I would have guessed the opposite. So I’m happy to learn the US has been resisting this course of action. Also, the the cables about Sarkozy and others are really fascinating.
I’m also very happy to hear that banks are next. This is whistle-blowing on a large scale.
They keep telling us that if we’ve done nothing wrong, we have nothing to fear. Well, large, powerful organisations like governments and banks actually should be accountable to society at large, so prying into their secrets actually serves a useful purpose whereas CCTV cameras pointing into our windows do not. If the banks hadn’t destroyed the economy, I’m sure the prospect fo seeing their memos leaked would be much less pertinent. So I hope wikileaks keeps it up. Also, Manning is a hero, assuming he did it.
What’s not cool is Amazon giving in to government pressure. This is part of why I’m very wary of using US-based web services. Certainly EU governments do censor things, but the land of the free and home of the brave seems to be full of corporations who cooperate very easily. Also, as far as government goes, the Patriot Act gives them the right to spy on us, which is also not really what you want from your IT provider.
In short, Amazon pulling the plug makes the US, and especially US-based companies, look worse than the leaked documents do.
But seriously, from where should I order Christmas gifts? And what does one get for a 2 year old, anyway?
Vegan Pumpkin Pie
Ingredients
- 1 medium sized orange squash – pumpkins are good, butternuts are better, crown prince squash is best. Pottimarons also work, etc.
- 1.5 C + 2 Tbs Soya milk
- 4 Tbs arrow root powder (or cornstarch)
- 0.5 Cups (300 g) sugar
- 1 tsp cinnamon
- 0.5 tsp powdered ginger
- 0.5 tsp allspice
- 1 pie crust
Hardware
- Bowl
- Measuring cup
- Measuring spoons
- Oven
- Spoon
- Knife
- Optional: blender or hand blender
Instructions
In advance
Heat the oven to 350 F/180 C / gas mark 4. Put the squash in the oven and bake until the skin discolours and the squash is squishy. This may take 30 minutes – an hour. Then, let the squash cool down.
After the squash has cooled
Heat the oven to 50 F/180 C / gas mark 4.
Mix the arrowroot (or cornstarch with a bit of the soymilk until smooth. Then, add in the rest of the soya milk and mix well.
Cut the pumpkin in half, remove the seeds (they’re edible too!) and then scoop out the flesh. Measure out 2 cups of the squash. Put the rest aside for soup or something else. Add the 2 cups of squash to the soymilk mixture.
Add the sugar and spices. If you have a blender, use it to blend the mixture until smooth. If you don’t, then make sure the pumpkin is squished into as small pieces as possible and try tog et out as many lumps as you can.
Pour the filling into the pie crust and put it in the oven. It should bake 30-40 minuts, or until the centre is firm. If you are baking other things at the same time, it will take longer.
Let the pie cool before serving. I like it best near room temperature. Some people like whipped cream on it also.
Commentary
I usually get somebody else to make the crust for me, so I don’t feel qualified to offer a recipe for one, but hopefully, this will change by Monday.
If you use a sweeter squash, like a crown prince, you can cut back a bit on sugar. Taste the batter if you’re unsure.
Ha ha, trans people sure are funny
John Oswald:
Pretender (based on ‘The Great Pretender’ written by Buck Ram) features the opportunity for a dramatic gender change, suggesting a hypothesis concerning the singer, Ms.Parton, perhaps worthy of headlines in the National Enquirer. The first inklings of this story came from fans of Ms.Parton’s earlier hit single ‘Jolene’. As many consumers have inadvertently discovered, especially since the reemergence of 12′ 45rpm records of which this present disc is a peculiar subset, it is not uncommon to find oneself playing 45rpm sides at the LP standard speed of 331/3. In this transposed tempo ‘Jolene’ reveals the singer to be a handsome tenor. Additional layers of homosexual longing , convoluted mŽnages ˆ trois and double identities are revealed in a vortex of androgyny as one switches, verse to verse, between the two standard playback speeds.
Pretender takes a leisurely tour of the intermediate areas of Ms. Parton’s masculinity. This decelerando reveals, complete with suggestive lyrics, an unaltered transition between the ‘Dolly Parton’ the public usually hears and the normally hidden voice, pitched a fourth lower. To many ears this supposed trick effect reveals the mellifluous male voice to be the more natural sounding of the two. Astute star gazers have perceived the physical transformation, via plastic surgery, hair transplants and such, that make many of today’s media figures into narrow/bosomy, blemish-free caricatures and super-real ideals. Is it possible that Ms. Parton’s remarkable voice is actually the Alvinized* result of some unsung virile ghost lieder crooning these songs at elegiac tempos which are then gender polarized to fit the tits? Speed and sex are again revealed as components intrinsic to the business of music.
*chipmunked
From http://www.plunderphonics.com/xhtml/xnotes.html, which is associated with his tune Pretender, which you can download in a zip, from here. Click through to see his awesome, edgy and totally not race-baiting or queerphobic take on Michael Jackson.
I want to be on his side because he fought for fair use, but this stuff is really assholish. It’s like wanting to side with Larry Flint. I was trying to find out if he was gay or not, because that might sort of his explain his gender stuff or least make it possibly deeper than a cheap laugh,. All I could find was that his official bio claims he did sound for a Bruce la Bruce film, Hustler White, which he claims is a gay pron film. Wikipedia and IMDB imply otherwise (the latter doesn’t tend to cover porn films, for example Deep Throat has no entry) and neither mentions Oswald.
The Dolly Parton track, by the way, is really, really good (as is the Michael Jackson one). It’s just the liner notes that suck. And usually, changing the speed of a recording of somebody’s voice just sounds weird. But her voice slowed down gets a James Brown-like tenor quality which is quite remarkable. So he’s on to something, but then he went for the cheap laugh.
ha.
ha.
My life lately
I had a houseguest from Friday – Tuesday, which is always nice. I tend to go out more when I have somebody staying over. Also, it’s an excuse to go do slightly more touristy things, or just go to a museum. (Indeed, if I know you in real life and you’re looking to stay on a sofa bed in central London, drop me a line.)
However, I used him as an excuse to procrastinate on writing my lecture. Fortunately, I was able to write the whole thing on Tuesday afternoon, in about half the time it normally takes me! I must finally be getting the hang of this. I went out on Tuesday night, feeling very pleased with myself.
On Wednesday, I presented the lecture and found out that it also seemed to take about half of the appointed time. My efficiency knows no bounds! I spent the second half of the class showing them MCLD’s dubstep patch and how to do some bitcrushing stuff, which seemed to go over well, so it was ok. I try to have emergency backup material in case this happens, but now I’m fresh out.
I also got a bit of feedback where apparently they want to learn more about how to do stuff, which is fair enough. Unfortunately, all of the really good how-to topics are in the past, so I may end up going back over them. I should probably ask if there’s any particular topic they wish they’d gotten more detail on. They seem to really be into break beat cutting and this might be because they already liked it or because I talked about BBCut. I gave them some how to program drone stuff, though, and nobody seems to be writing drone pieces.
Then I went to Brum, where we had a guest speaker who was talking about how to master electroacoustic music for CD. He said we could all get a very decent home studio for only £5000. It was like he forgot that he was talking to students. I don’t have a room that I could convert into a proper studio like that, and if I had £5k extra lying around, well, actually, music gear is probably my second priority at the moment, so that’s not entirely unreasonable. Until I get regular full time employment, though, it’s not on my budget. I guess I could mortgage my dog or something, but that’s risky.
Saturday
I haven’t been getting much done lately, so I haven’t been going out much, on the idea that if I sequester myself at home, I’ll quit procrastinating. This doesn’t actually work. So Saturday, I decided to go out and ended up having a kind of a surreal evening. I came home at 4 am with 3 different hand stamps.
I skipped dinner so I could go to the FTM London meeting, which is once a month. It’s a support group kind of thing and only the third time I’ve ever been to a such a meeting in my life. I had some useful conversations and the people there are good guys, and I should keep going, but I’m not a huge fan of the support group format. I don’t actually understand what the parameters are about what I’m allowed or not allowed to talk about, so I’ll just say that it was good to be reminded that I have more surgical options than the ones presented to me last week.
After the meeting, several of us went to the Black Cap in Camden and had something to drink. This was the source of my first hand stamp, as they start charging a cover at some point after I arrived, so a security guy came by and stamped everybody already in the pub.
I ran into a friend there and she said she was going to something called Duckie at the RVT and asked me if I wanted to come along. It was packed to the gills. I’ve only ever been to Wotever-related events there, so I’ve never seen it so stuffed or so gay. It was 95% gay men, I think. I saw somebody else I knew there who was in to noise music and talked (shouted, really) to her and her partner for several minutes and then retreated outside with the smokers. We went back in for the stage show. There were two women dressed as tea ladies, stacking tea cups and pouring tea into them, on a table. It was already kind of surreal, as the music could have been part of the Leave it to Beaver soundtrack, and they had done some choreography that was supposed to invoke the idea of sexiness without actually embodying it.
Then, just in time for the last cup to be filled, the tea pot was empty! So, one of the women stood up on a chair, hiked up her shirt and pissed into the tea pot. Then, they dropped a tea bag into the pot, swirled it around for a moment, poured the contents of the pot into tea cups and both performers sipped at them. Thus ended their act.
I tried to suavely hide my look of open-mouthed-shock. I’m from a more prudish country and obviously gay men in London must want to go out and watch women do things with piss, and that’s perfectly fine. And anyway, it had to be faked, as she weed for quite a long time, so it was obviously some sort of water bottle or something hidden under her skirt.
The pissing performer turned out to be friends with my friend. Which is how I learned that she had been complaining a bit about the vast quantities of water she’d had to drink before her act in order to be able to produce enough fluid at the end. Um, wow. So I saw the liquid version of two girls, two cups. Awesome.
At midnight, I left to go hear Danse Macabre play a gig very near my house. The drummer had texted me the address and then said I was on the guest list. So I showed up kind of drunk and then noticed that she had gotten me on the guest list by saying I was doing sound for them.
They were playing in a straight, mtf-crossdresser fetish bar. So there were a lot of leering straight men around, being lustful. And a lot of middle aged drag queens in extremely fabulous cocktail dresses. The entire club was structured around the male gaze. I retreated backstage with the band and drank more.
Then they were on and I was in the sound booth. I’ve only done live sound once before in my life and it was a total disaster of feedback and mics crapping out. But the band said they’d already sound checked and I shouldn’t have to adjust anything, it would be fine. So they got on stage and immediately the feedback started. The person who sound checked them had no idea where it was coming from. I finally worked out it was form the mics for the backing vocals, but then somebody who actually knew what he was doing came charging back and asked me if I was actually a sound engineer. I said no, so he started twisting all the knobs on top of the board and not only did the feedback go away, but the band sounded way better. He then said things would be fine and wandered off.
The band had a new line up. They have a sax player now, who I could barely hear, so I kept pushing her mic hotter and hotter and she kept playing farther and farther from the mic. Arg. Later, I found out that the sound checker put her way too hot in the monitors, so she could hear herself blasting. Rather than turn that down, the woman told her to play quieter! So the saxophonist was on stage, trying to play sax quietly into a microphone!
I really should learn how to work a PA for public events. It would be a really useful skill.
Also, the male gaze is reaaaaly troubling.
How to Write BBCut FX
First, here’s my file:
CutMask : CutSynth { var bits,sr,bitadd,srmult; var synthid; //makes SynthDef for filter FX Synth *initClass { StartUp.add({ 2.do({arg i; SynthDef.writeOnce("cutmaskchan"++((i+1).asSymbol),{ arg inbus=0, outbus=0, bits; var input, fx; input= In.ar(inbus,i+1); fx = MantissaMask.ar(input, bits); ReplaceOut.ar(outbus,fx); }); }); }); } *new{arg bits=16,sr,bitadd=1,srmult=1; ^super.new.bits_(bits).bitadd_(bitadd).sr_(sr ?? {Server.default.sampleRate/2}).srmult_(srmult); } setup { //tail of cutgroup synthid= cutgroup.server.nextNodeID; cutgroup.server.sendMsg(s_new, cutmaskchan++(cutgroup.numChannels.asSymbol), synthid, 1,cutgroup.fxgroup.nodeID,inbus,cutgroup.index,outbus,cutgroup.index, bits, bits); } //can't assume, individual free required for cut fx //synth should be freed automatically by group free free { cutgroup.server.sendMsg(n_free,synthid); } renderBlock {arg block,clock; var samprate,bitstart,bitarray,srarray, s; s= cutgroup.server; bitstart= bits.value(block); samprate= sr.value(block); srarray= Array.geom(block.cuts.size,samprate,srmult.value(block)); bitarray= Array.series(block.cuts.size,bitstart,bitadd.value(block)); bitarray= 0.5**((bitarray).max(2)-1); block.cuts.do({arg cut,i; block.msgs[i].add([n_set, synthid,bits,bits]); }); //don't need to return block, updated by reference } }
What I did there: I took CutBit1.sc and did a saveAs CutMask.sc. Then I changed the name of the class to CutMask.
In initClass
I changed the synthdef name to cutmaskchan
I changed the arguments to the SynthDef
I put in my own code for the fx = line. That’s where the magic happens!
In new
I changed cutgroup.server.sendMsg to so it uses my synthdef name and my synthdef arguments
In renderBlock
I changed block.msgs[i].add( to have my synthdef arguments
since mine doesn’t change, I could skip sending anything, afaik
Chiptune, Dub, BBCut
This is based off MCLD’s Dubstep Patch, with a modification to make it output a Pulse wave and then using some BBCut from a previous post.
( var bus, sf, buf, clock, synthgroup, bbgroup, loop, group, cut1, cut2, cut3, stream, pb, cut4, out; SynthDef(dub, {|out = 0, amp| var trig, note, son, sweep; trig = CoinGate.kr(0.5, Impulse.kr(/*2*/ 1.5.reciprocal)); note = Demand.kr(trig, 0, Dseq((22,24..44).midicps.scramble, inf)); sweep = LFSaw.ar(Demand.kr(trig, 0, Drand([1, 2, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 8, 16], inf))).exprange(40, 5000); son = Pulse.ar(note * [0.99, 1, 1.01]).sum; son = LPF.ar(son, sweep); son = Normalizer.ar(son); son = son + BPF.ar(son, 2000, 2); //////// special flavours: // hi manster son = Select.ar(TRand.kr(trig: trig) < 0.05, [son, HPF.ar(son, 1000) * 4]); // sweep manster son = Select.ar(TRand.kr(trig: trig) < 0.05, [son, HPF.ar(son, sweep) * 4]); // decimate son = Select.ar(TRand.kr(trig: trig) < 0.05, [son, son.round(0.1)]); son = (son * 5).tanh; //son = son + GVerb.ar(son, 10, 0.1, 0.7, mul: 0.3); //son.dup; Out.ar(out, son.dup * amp); }).add; // groups synthgroup= Group.head(Node.basicNew(s,1)); // one at the head bbgroup= Group.after(synthgroup); // this one comes after, so it can do stuff with audio // from the synthgroup bus= Bus.audio(s,1); // a bus to route audio around // a buffer holding a breakbeat. The first argument is the filename, the second is the number of // beats in the file. sf = BBCutBuffer("sounds/drums/breaks/hiphop/22127__nikolat__oldskoolish_90bpm.wav", 16); // a buffer used by BBCut to hold anaylsis buf = BBCutBuffer.alloc(s,44100,1); // The default clock. 90 is the BPM / 60 for the number of seconds in a minute TempoClock.default.tempo_(180/60); // BBCut uses it's own clock class. We're using the default clock as a base clock= ExternalClock(TempoClock.default); clock.play; // Where stuff actually happens Routine.run({ s.sync; // wait for buffers to load loop = (instrument:dub, out:0, amp: 0.3, group:synthgroup.nodeID).play(clock.tempoclock); /* That's an Event, which you can create by using parens like this. We're using an event because of the timing built in to that class. Passing the clock argument to play means that the loop will always start on a beat and thus be synced with other BBCut stuff. */ // let it play for 5 seconds 5.wait; group = CutGroup(CutBuf3(sf, 0.5)); group.add(CutBit1.new(4)); cut2 = BBCut2(group, BBCutProc11(8, 4, 16, 2, 0.2)).play(clock); // start a process to cut things coming in on the bus cut1 = BBCut2(CutGroup(CutStream1(bus.index, buf), bbgroup), BBCutProc11(8, 4, 16, 2, 0.2)).play(clock); 2.wait; loop.set(out, bus.index); "bbcut".postln; 30.wait; cut4 = BBCut2(CutGroup(CutStream1(bus.index, buf), bbgroup), SQPusher2.new).play(clock); }); )
I think it would be cool to run the drums through a 4 or 8 bit MantissaMask, but first I have to figure out how to write FX.
Discuss
This post is intended to be accessible to non-technical readers, so don’t flee when you see mention of programming languages.
Recently, on [an email list related to a FLOSS programming language], somebody posted about having used [a rival language] a lot for a month. He was happy to be back to his preferred language, writing, “It feels like having been fucking around with ugly cocain addict ex-go go dancer only to find out how much you love your wife. (who looks like Sharon Tate and still a C++/Java expert. )”
He then went on to ask a technical question.
I don’t want to bring this up on the [original] list, but I have questions about this and would like to get a discussion going. Is this an example of casual sexism / heteronormativity or just a slangy way of speaking? If it is sexism, could it it alienating to women who might otherwise want to be on the email list? Should such phrasing be discouraged? Should there be a policy? Would such a policy be overly formal/constricting for a language often used by hobbyists?
I found that sentence to be somewhat annoying, obviously, or I wouldn’t be posting about it, but not annoying enough to reply back and start a discussion on the list, especially as it’s pretty atypical. I’m wondering what others think about it, though.