A Voice? The Voice?

So once again I'm setting here in front of my screen, while the clock turns further and further from my bedtime.
It's not that I couldn't have gone to bed hours ago. I'm not really sure why I like staying up until my working friends almost has to get up and start getting ready for work. I try to keep certain times. My alarm rings at 10 every morning for instance. But so far that only means I sleep less for the most part.
The last time I got in bed around midnight was probably when I was drunk, and that was a few months ago now. Don't really drink much. Never have really.
Anyway, I was gonna write about the Voice. Every notice how some people, when they speak they automatically takes command of the room somehow? They've got a certain voice. Or maybe it's a tone? I don't really know, but what I do know is that Hitler wouldn't have caused half the trouble he did whiteout his voice. It can be a commanding voice. It can also be an inspiring voice. It makes you feel comfortable and secure, like your father or mother talking calmly to you as you fall asleep at night.
I just watched Pontypool for the second time, so voices, words and the understanding of them is on my mind right now.
It actually forces you to think about language, which we normally take for granted. Well, unless you work with it or something obviously.
If you could chose whatever voice you wanted, which would it be? I'd like a darker voice myself. I feel it's too soft, too timid really. Then again I am a really nice guy, so a voice that intimidates people might not fit me.
No, what I would need right now is a steadier voice. Less nervous, more in control. But maybe that comes when you feel more in control? Sounds pretty logical when you think about it. Of course you can train your voice to try and remain steady at all times, but that seems dishonest to me somehow.
Considering how dependent we are on social communication, using a fake voice is really a bit like plastic surgery. Communication in general depend on honesty. Of course, that also depends on the goals you have with your communication. Some even say we have a natural ability to lie and cheat, and detects lies as well. That too seems pretty useful. At least for now. Some day we might not need it, and I think we can all agree on that being a positive development.
I'll stop ranting now. The clock just passed 5 AM/05:00 over here as well. Somewhere inside my head a female sumo wrestler is singing. Something by Wagner most likely...

Gary by Clément Soulmagnon & an American Pyscho music video by Dave Green

Gary from Gary on Vimeo.

And here's the promised music video.


Adam Bergs The Carousel



Prototype robots/furniture that eat mice and insects.
This, EATR and Big Dog keeps me from sleeping at night.

Based on this I have to say someone should burn Dubai to the ground.
Sure, it might be the most modern city in the world, but it sounds like this Utopia is more of a Dystopia with a shiny surface.

The story of Sarah Palin.
Paints a pretty grim picture of her political career, not to mention the state of the Republican Party.

Exxon are being cunts. Again.
This time they get to pay for it though. Somewhere out there Greg Palast is wearing a smile.

The Declaration of Independence of Cyberspace
It's a bit old by now, but still worth a read.


Another TED-talk. And some science links.

New Scientist - A science news site. Broader Perspective - A blog that does a lot of things. Amongst others: telling you what the future will look like. TED - A video library of science and inspiration. Well, that's my description anyway. SuTree - Another video library. This one's more of a mixed bag of useful tips, guides, introductions, and so on. JSTOR - Is a digital archive for scholars. This and SuTree I'm not too familiar with despite having them in my links for ages. I'll have to change that. There's a few. I'd welcome more though. These type of sites are pretty damned useful at times.


Traveling in Time

There’s a sickness in my veins. It slowly consumes me, makes me passive and content with as little as possible. Eventually nothing will matter but simple existing. I sit on my mothers lawn with my legs crossed and let the wind flow around me. Sometimes I think it pierces me and flows trough the holes in my skin. At that very moment I feel like smoke, or maybe fog. Something that have appeared for just a moment and will soon be scattered by the wind amongst the trees. Some days I feel that that’s how solid my personality is. Always shifting and changing shape. Other days I’m the one that decides which shape is the right one, which mode I want to push onto others. Those days I am obnoxious and bold. I am the commander of those around me. Their center and hub to which they come for guidance and enlightenment. Things are as they should. I am in control, if so only of myself. Not that I imagine that I am in full control at any given time, but when you reach a certain degree the illusion of it appears.
I always turn my thoughts inwards like this when visiting my moms place. She’s moved to a little fishing community where we used to live while growing up, so it feels a little like traveling back in time whenever I come to visit. If I take a walk it unleashes a barrage of fragmented memories that take a while for me to puzzle together. It’s worth it though, because when you travel back into your own personal history you get a better understanding of time and history as a whole. Your brain starts playing “connect the dots”, which sometimes leads to interesting results. You remember that time you and your friends rode your bicycles to a farmer a bit away to buy fresh milk. We were on a mission of utmost importance, and felt like we were practically grownups already. Of course we raced back on our bikes, because mom was going to make ice cream from the cream that floats up on top of the milk.Or that time when we found a car tire and decided to roll it down the outside staircase. It was all a highly entertaining game, until someone passed by and noticed the marks the tire left on the storage it had been hitting at the bottom of the stairs. The rest of that day was spent with hot bubbly water and hard brushes trying to get the rubber off the wall and door.
One of the houses we lived in is gone now. It was small, worn out little house rented out by an angry old man. Once we had to rush home from the beach to watch Robocop on the smallest tv you ever saw, but since mom had the keys we formed a human pyramid and I climbed inside trough the little window above the door. That day we felt like we could do anything. It soon evaporated in awe of the transformation and redemption of Alex Murphy.

From last weekend, somewhere outside Varberg in Sweden.

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