The printing studio from the Mul-Åland Drive post now has web presence!
Ahvaland
Saturday 12 April 2014
Tuesday 8 April 2014
Cosmic Diversion
COUNT GURUCULA: Hey, how come we send people into Space but we don’t help the poor?
I re-shifted in my deck chair, still searching optimum comfort. The sun level was good but the self appointed guru was wafting for a response. Again he asked,
COUNT GURUCULA: Hey, how come we send people into Space but...
ME: Space? What about war, that unending and dedicated past time of ours?
CG [encore with more poignancy]: Yeah but listen, how come we can send people into Space yet mother earth is dying?
ME: I’ve never heard of oil! Sorry, continue...
CG: Yeah but listen, how come we send people into Space yet the sick with their cardboard walking sticks...
ME: Pharmaceutical companies never exploit anyone! Oh, space, you were saying?
CG: Listen…
On and on it goes. I realised I couldn’t kill this self-resurrecting beast. I drew a diagram hoping to illustrate where mankind puts his efforts; thick arrows with large capitals emphasising ‘ WAR', ‘ OIL', ‘ PROFITEERING' and skinny arrows with small fonts on ‘science’ and ‘immigrants’; it was a master class of my design skills.
Still, Count Gurucula was having none of it. The real enemy of mankind was Space. A contented silence absorbed in to the glazy sunshine and I lost track of time.
ME: Hey, how come we use all our resources on war yet there's all that space above us?
The Count nodded. The real enemy of mankind is Space. I had conceded, there was certainly lots of it.
I re-shifted in my deck chair, still searching optimum comfort. The sun level was good but the self appointed guru was wafting for a response. Again he asked,
COUNT GURUCULA: Hey, how come we send people into Space but...
ME: Space? What about war, that unending and dedicated past time of ours?
CG [encore with more poignancy]: Yeah but listen, how come we can send people into Space yet mother earth is dying?
ME: I’ve never heard of oil! Sorry, continue...
CG: Yeah but listen, how come we send people into Space yet the sick with their cardboard walking sticks...
ME: Pharmaceutical companies never exploit anyone! Oh, space, you were saying?
CG: Listen…
On and on it goes. I realised I couldn’t kill this self-resurrecting beast. I drew a diagram hoping to illustrate where mankind puts his efforts; thick arrows with large capitals emphasising ‘ WAR', ‘ OIL', ‘ PROFITEERING' and skinny arrows with small fonts on ‘science’ and ‘immigrants’; it was a master class of my design skills.
Still, Count Gurucula was having none of it. The real enemy of mankind was Space. A contented silence absorbed in to the glazy sunshine and I lost track of time.
ME: Hey, how come we use all our resources on war yet there's all that space above us?
The Count nodded. The real enemy of mankind is Space. I had conceded, there was certainly lots of it.
Saturday 5 April 2014
Leveraging The System
The philosopher Jacques Ellul said that the 'sacred' came from nature. But then technology replaced nature, and so the 'sacred' is now misplaced - we worship technology.
Well, I think it's time to correct this. It's time technology served us so that we may dance in the fields, eat from the orchard and return the divine. With the vision of an 80's bedroom programmer, let me show you how.
You see, I read artists on Spotify make between $0.006 to $0.0084 per single play of a track. So, I shall release one song. That song will be cut into tiny pieces, 2 seconds long.
Doing the maths (avert your eyes if genius sums makes you nauseous)
- 2 second track = 7,200 plays an hour.
- 7,200 x $0.006 = THOUSANDS of dollars an hour
or $43.20 an hour if I use a calculator instead of enthusiasm.
All I then need to do is boot up spotify, select 'loop', hit play and leave the room. System leveraged.
I open the front door, feel the soft wind diffuse the kafkian air by my terminal. I leave the keys on the table. Adieu, ladies and gentlemen. I have a basket of divinity I need to return.
Well, I think it's time to correct this. It's time technology served us so that we may dance in the fields, eat from the orchard and return the divine. With the vision of an 80's bedroom programmer, let me show you how.
You see, I read artists on Spotify make between $0.006 to $0.0084 per single play of a track. So, I shall release one song. That song will be cut into tiny pieces, 2 seconds long.
Doing the maths (avert your eyes if genius sums makes you nauseous)
- 2 second track = 7,200 plays an hour.
- 7,200 x $0.006 = THOUSANDS of dollars an hour
or $43.20 an hour if I use a calculator instead of enthusiasm.
All I then need to do is boot up spotify, select 'loop', hit play and leave the room. System leveraged.
I open the front door, feel the soft wind diffuse the kafkian air by my terminal. I leave the keys on the table. Adieu, ladies and gentlemen. I have a basket of divinity I need to return.
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