Badaboom Thirty Stitches


Franklyn Monk Dronecast #34

So, I sold blood plasma in order to keep this website going.
And cycled back in the Texas heat, and passed out on my porch.
Smashing my head on brick. Ended up with thirty stitches.
A week later I get them taken out to find they “didn’t take” and I’m gonna loose a huge chunk of my eyebrow. I’m bummed about it.
I’m going to do it again as soon as I’m healed enough to donate.
I’m serious about my art.


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Storm

I spent three hours on the audio. Three hours to clean up the original 21 minute noisy recording so that it didn’t make you want to rip your headphones off. I was going for something less overbearing white noise, and more rain.

At some point it may use it as a backing track to something.

I also spent a lot of time on the video too, but that was mostly re/learning running bash scripts in Automator actions. And rendering, a bunch of time for my spunky little laptop to render


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I spent three hours on the audio. Three hours to clean up the original 21 minute noisy recording so that it didn't make you want to rip your headphones off. I was going for something less overbearing white noise, and more rain. At some point it may make it as a backing track to something. I also spent a lot of time on the video too, but that was mostly re/learning running bash scripts in Automator actions. And rendering, a bunch of time for my spunky little laptop to render

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Toss some bits at your podcaster

The Longness of You


Between the longness of you
And my shortness of breath
Cicadas sing
Our moon falls into shadow


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Raumo


Franklyn Monk Dronecast #32, Raumo: z0

Z0 or Z0 may refer to:

  • Characteristic impedance, a ratio used in electronics
  • Impedance of free space, a physical constant
  • Z boson, an elementary particle that mediates the weak force
  • a rare rail transport modelling scale
  • Roughness length, a factor used in wind speed calculations
  • Z0 sex-determination system in biology

Audio: REAPER
Video: ffmpeg, with heavy postprocessing in ShotCut and iMovie
Titles: inkscape, and no I’m not satisfied with them. I just had to stop, I had to stop. So I stopped with the promise that my next video will have better title/credit cards.


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Welcome Google Play Music Podcast Listeners

The Dronecast is now on Google Play Podcasts.

And Fuck You Some More


Franklyn Monk Dronecast #31: And Fuck You Some More

And fuck you
And fuck you
And fuck you
And fuck you
And fuck you
And fuck you some more Continue reading And Fuck You Some More

Milling


Franklyn Monk Dronecast #30: Milling

I shot the video at TWU in Denton, TX.

Continue reading Milling

Cranes


Franklyn Monk Dronecast #29: Cranes

I shot the video at South Lakes Park in Denton, TX, where I found Harmony, a kinetic art sculpture by George Cadell.

Continue reading Cranes

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. Continue reading Outtakes

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I’m getting less traction for “Outtakes” than I usually do and I think it’s because people assume they know what outtakes are.

Have no fear, it is a fully produced piece with a backing track that will guide you though surreal meditation, while demonstrating a new confidence and growth as tinkerer and toyer.

It playback well over a broader range of equipment and features an industrial-mechanico sample that I’m very proud of—having created it from scratch by generating and molding square waves. There’s also the sound of rapid gun shots from a cold blooded murder, briefly.

The vocal segments (mostly recorded on ancient phones and micro recorders), are chunks out of my brainstorming storming process. They feature one of the best lines I’ve ever written, “waking up neighborhoods, trippin’ over hoes”, which I tease you with for a while before delivering a punchline near to the end—that’s the importance of longer pieces, there’s time for play.

It’s weird how those distinct, disjointed segments flow into a larger narrative, but I did that intentionally—these aren’t just clips haphazardly thrown together to fill space with empty content. It's a full struggled over and loved piece of art meditation for you to dream to.

It also some working versions of Tour Guide, from when I was looking for words and rhythm, which just happens to be the previous track, so you should go ahead and list to it immediately next—it’s short, round a minute or two I’d guess.

And then fuck, that's followed by “I Trusted You” my shortest track, clocking in at around 2 seconds—and it’s that long because enhanced podcasts with multiple chapters and artwork start getting freaky below the 2 second barrier. (yes yes I like really short as well as really long stuff.)

That leads to my next ful-lengthl track “It’s a Hoot!” which it is, a hoot! I tell ya.

Over the course of those tracks you’ll hear the evolution of the I’m an Ally riff.

I say all that, but I did get an unanticipated like from a surprising, perhaps forgotten, source that made me all love and clouds for a few days.

Hat Tip

Image from Wikimedia Commons

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Tip the poet

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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