Outtakes

Franklyn Monk Dronecast 28: Outtakes.

Just some scraps I had laying around. I record as I write and delete everything up to the final recording—to save disk space, and because there’s always too much to review.

Recordings get scattered all over the place, and I’ll loose track of them, and sometimes stumble over them again. Instead of deleting them this time, I decided to give you a behind the scenes look at my writing process.

You can listen to the evolution of Tour Guide (formerly Fairy Tale, and before that Nursery Rhyme. It was originally scheduled to be #26, but took longer than I had anticipated to work out. I like all the versions, but the one I pushed out is my favorite.

There’s also some other stuff that never became anything. Important lesson here, don’t waste your time on shit that ain’t gonna work—you’ll get a sense of what’s salvageable and what’s torturous. Anything could be made to work, with enough aggravation and toil and effort. But if it’s aggravating and toiling and effortful, just stop, you’ll end up hating yourself. Every word you write isn’t gold, every phrase you utter isn’t a poem, learn the difference and move on.

There’s some cool lines there though, and it’s funny as hell, so here, some rough cuts. I probably have more on my phone I might push out sometimes, but not soon, this took too much work.

Since I put this together in a coffeehouse I couldn’t record the intro, so I had my computer read it. There’s also a computer generated voice reading the segments of a podcast—as best I can determine them to be. I thought about doing the whole talk my audience to death with personal info, and what not, but I hate it when podcasts have long intros, and outros, and pandering fucking personal tales, etc. I know it’s done because people are more likely to follow the person, not the work, and it’s easier to brand, and the additional length makes ads more palatable, and give the audience warm fuzzies, but I can’t stand it, I can’t skip them fast enough—so, I won’t do it, but I reserve the right to change my mind at a later date. The parts of a podcast segment is funny though.

Sorry for the ramblings, I’ve been at this all day, something like nine hours, heading out now, bye!


Franklyn Monk
Dronecast #28
Outtakes

Episode link: fmonk.quasigentsia.com/archives/6546

Twitter: @fqmonk
Facebook: facebook.com/fqmonk
Website: fmonk.quasigentsia.com

Tour Guide

Once upon a time in a desolate land
In the middle of a
Familiar worldsystem
You’d recognize it
It’s right over there

Stood a tree.

Under the tree sat a poet.
It was the last tree and the last poet.
Fitting they should die together

Thought the poet.
Fitting, thought the tree,
But useless.
No more useless than
Love thought the poet.
And the tree dropped a leaf.

We shall die,
We shall die together
We shall die,
We shall die together

And they did.
The tree lost its branches
and the poet decomposed.

LAUGH

They’re still there
A dead testament to waste
And desolation
For whoever should wander by

The commentator shakes
Its head and says
What I mean to say

Once upon a time
In a desolate land
The last poet
And the last tree
Sacrificed themselves
So that you may

Stare in despair and regret
What you have done

HORROR HORROR

Look at what you have wrought
Look at what you wrought.

CRY

LAUGH

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I Trusted You

Sorry for the wonkiness of the podcast last night. I had such a hard time with this microcast.

It seems to have been doomed from the start. It took days to record that one second of audio. No, really. Well, and to mix it. No, again, really. It was a whole thing.

I guess I should start with philosophy and aesthetic…err, my pet-peeves, that is. My biggest pet-peeve is when people, especially podcasters, over talk things. It’s rampant.

Sometimes, often, the fewer words the better. Sometimes you can say what you have to say in under a second. When you can, do. We’ll all be happier.

Words are nasty horrible little things. Yeah, I know, I’m a “poet”, and a reader, an amateur linguist, and all that, you’d think I’d love words, but no, words obstruct as much as they clarify. I guess we all know that. Words also destroy thought, other people’s words are detrimental to a poet in the act of poet-ing.

The act of poet-ing (ha! how Alan Watts of me) is like brainstorming, is observing things so intensely that they fall away and little stories pop out. These stories pop out form cracks in the wall, the tree-line, the cold hard stare of a backstab-y lover.

If external words impinge on these soap bubbles of poemlets they’ll pop leaving noting but a sticky resin behind from which there’s little chance to salvage anything. You might be able to break it down and rehydrate it, but that’s generally not the case, you can burn days trying to resurrect an abortion. Sometimes you havta try though, I guess.

Words are constantly with us. They blast from television sets, and radios. Cell phone conversations, billboards…ok, fuck, I’ll stop there, you do the observing—how many words are you besieged by in a day? How many of them do you actually want?

That’s one of the reasons I prefer
Drone
, it allows you to build a microcosm in a bubble to explore. A fragile microcosm that will burst at the first chance. You havta protect your perceptual inputs from unwanted agents of chaos!

Words color and distort our thoughts. Words manipulate us on the most basic and subconscious levels. Words sneak their way in and make you long for and desire and need disastrously unhealthy and damaging things.

Heh, Propaganda Theory 101, or perhaps I should call it Media Literacy. My camp keeps wondering why people keep voting against their own self-interest. It’s this, y’all. The maelstrom of corporate words have worn down their shields and they don’t have the space to develop their own, uncolored, thoughts. And you can’t blame them.

A couple generations now of declining economic conditions, worsening schools, schools mandated by law to instill a very warped and intellectually deficient world-view, bolstered by an invasive media-sphere. And it all ran by a handful of elites that are making out like bandits.

Control words and you control people. It’s simple. Thank you Goebbels, seems your side won after all.

That’s one of the things that informs my poetry and my other art. I try not to manipulate folk. I say my piece and I’m off. I try to stay lean.

So back to this episode. Originally it was 1.25 seconds, but iTunes has some serious issues with sub-two-second enhanced podcasts. Audio files under two seconds work fine in the music library, but in the podcast library will fuck up the played-flag and the resume at time-stamp and just be a misery. I had to up the duration to a full two seconds before these unintended effects went away.

I keep saying enhanced podcasts, what do I mean by that? An enhanced podcast is one that contains chapters and art-work. Apple is moving away from them, apparently, they’ve ceased development on tools that allows you to do such things. ’Tis a pity, but I think they’re doing because iTunes sucks, and you might as well make a video these days. I wish I would have.

Apple wants 1400^2 pixel artwork for podcasts (it’s bigger for podcast cover-art—2048^2). But, iTunes (Yosemite and iOS) can’t really handle shit that size. Not when the audio is two seconds, and you have four chapters, and four images. I had to knock the images down to 300^2.

And there were more problems. Auphonic.com bloated my 471k file to 1.1 megs, I have no idea why, and grew tired of looking for the reason and just posted my GarageBand 6.0.5 file (the last version that supported enhanced podcasts). It also messed up the chapters, the art would hang, not change when it should.

And before all that the recording and mixing were problematic. I’m recording with some lousy equipment, in a noisy environment, with an unprecedented hard on one’s self mentality. Torture torture! I cleaned it up the best I could and compressed and leveled best I could. Each channel. Yeah, it’s in stereo, but I have reason. Mostly the reason is fun.

Only it wasn’t that much fun. The idea popped up, and I decided to run with it, while I’m preparing episode 27 (a fairy tale or nursery rhyme or something, still toying with the title. It’ll probably be the first).

And then there’s the problems with my podcast solution, I’m using Blubrry. Blubrry is growing old in the teeth and is resting on it’s laurels. I can’t figure out, for instance, how to embed links into descriptions, or into whatever field the iOS Podcast App reveals under the album art (is it lyrics? might be lyrics, will have to check). I see this in other podcasts and I’m envious.

I’m gonna check into these issues, and more, on my next self-hating injurious spell. It helps if you’re already in a lousy mood, because it’ll fuck you up, and why go seeking for hurt and pain. Got enough already, I prefer to hold tight to what little happiness can come my way. Argh.

Oh, you’re probably wondering why all the work? Why enhance a 2 second podcast. Well, because it’s funny, for one. And why bother with a podcast if you’re not gonna give it your best (Titanium Physicists, I’m looking at you, unedited indeed, scoff). And because I like to hide messages. Back in my Papier-mâché making days I’d hide notes in my work. I had expected that in 50 years from know you’d break it, and be delighted. Or our grandchildren one day would be amazed by the depth of my love. Well…fuck. That whole life was sabotaged by crazy. Sabotaged and it’s implications traveled back in time and woe is me. Motherfucker.

The cover-art is a spectrogram, but not of the audio, of something else. There’s a clue in the chapters.

I wasn’t gonna let that slip, but it’s something to look for. I hide shit in plain sight. Because it’s fun.

So sorry if the podcast got wonky last night, I was battling many fires on many fronts and had to correct and make allowances for several cascading and hitherto unbeknownst issues. Argh.

Oh, yeah, and I can’t figure out how to embed an enhanced podcast on a webpage, if you don’t subscribe to the Dronecast with a podcatcher and wanna see it, take a look here (but I understand that that link is likely to change.

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Attention Subscribers

If you suddenly stop getting updates, it’s because I’m weeding out suspicious users from my site. I’m checking each of you against Stop Forum Spam database of suspect users. I think you all are. ALL!

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It’s a Hoot

Introduction

My twenty-fifth podcast is a poem.
(It's much less repetitive than the last one.)

Main Content

Hello
Good evening
and welcome
I’m Franklyn Monk
I hold deep-seated and derisive political ideologies
It’s true!
I’m an ally
But I see no sense in preaching to the choir
I see no sense in preaching to the choir
So I’m gonna talk on somethin’
Mundane
Or prosaic
Like sunsets
The moon
An owl

Oh, the Moon isn’t her real name
Her real name to too beautiful
Too beautiful too beautiful
Her real name would burn your ears
Or my tongue
Turn you into a zombie
Albeit a good one
That doesn’t eat people
So it continually eats itself
Sunrise to sunset
Sunset to sunset
There’s an owl there
Somewhere

Oh, I have a first conscience memory of an owl
But it’s too painful to revisit
So it’s left as an exercise
For the audience
What is the poet’s owl?

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Notes

Yes, the opening line is an homage to LKJ

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A Form of Madness

I don’t know if this represents a form of madness.
I don’t know if this represents a form of madness or not.

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Recording Eight

Here’s a new track. I rushed through it last night. I’m experimenting with the generative audio equivalent of the literary cut-up technique. Did it by hand though, as I’m not as capable as I want to be with coding music. I developed the logic but couldn’t figure out where to begin with coding it, I gonna look into creating Audio Unit plugins, that’s probably what I need.

In the meantime enjoy Recording Eight, it features 74 seconds of audio from a 21 minute recording I made this summer, probably while drunk. I don’t know why I choose the segments I did, I sped through and choose what sounded cool.

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In the Evening

Here’s a spooky little number I composed over Halloween.

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Building

More blood
And more pus
And goo
Red streaks leading to
Bottomless pits
Gushing and pooling
Sickly red in afternoon glare
Garish garish
And the chisel slips
And the hammer
Smashes your thumb
Again
Only this time you don’t scream
You take another blow
The pain, yeah it’s there
But you bear it
The path needs building
And you’re the builder
The bricks need a saving
And your the savior
Finger tips worn smooth
Split and crack and ooze
Hamstrings strained and popping
Arms and knuckles and muscles and joints and skin
Pounded into submission helplessness
It’s all rough and hard and blunt
Sharp and gritty and dusty and muddy
Mosquito clouds your vision
A scorpion numbs your thumb and you carry on
Covered head to toe in poison ivy
Defiant as love
You pound and lift and hack
And strain and twist and pull
Nothing else to do
Path need be built

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FreqOut

I haven’t been making these in a while. Here’s one I created…I don’t know when, a while back. Originally known as Frequency Out because it was a mixed down backtrack of a larger project that I never got around to completing. FreqOut made me snigger, so that’s what I went with.

Feel free to use it in your project if it fits, or just listen to it in the background while you paint, or meditate or write, or whatever. It should stay out of your way enough to concentrate, while challenging you enough that you don’t fall asleep.

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Little make-believes in the shape of poems.