An incomprehensible occurrence seems to have manifest in 2011. Namely, reasonably ethically sane software and hardware set-ups were traded in for “dirty” software which shall remain anonymous.
Within a quantity of time, anomalies noted. Hardware functioning unreliably, software playing far-out games. Though months clogged up lag, times stayed reasonably productive. Multiple videos and albums recorded and edited. Alas! Fast-forward additional months and the guilt of having traded my soul and dignity for the opportunity to edit files began to bloom.
The thing never felt like “my” computer. It was there for me, acting as a savant servant of sorts. Touching it with my neural appendages gave some amount of release and satisfaction, though it seemed always slightly out of reach. It grew on me through the months and years, though we never shared the sort of connection I felt towards Gentoo GNU+Linux. Waking nights, unsettled sense of eerie wavering haunted the CPU.
During morning time, software failed to functionally perform the tasks. Efforts continuing through doses of motivational speech extracted from the crevices of internetted settlements. This was a wake-up call. An existential crisis. Subject to fumes of dirty licenses, the bovine brainwashed masses amassed expensive .
Due to third eye and 9th chakra remote cleansing (services available via bandcamp store! BUY NOW! A chance for placebo effect guaranteed! T&C apply, no refunds.) it is self-evident that the greys have infiltrated systems within biobots. Reptilians are slow so they bought into the systems due to status anxiety. Spreading akin to the Emotional Plague, the chattle follow stuporously towards pseudo-conspicuous disaster scenarios.
Eventually, I came around and rekindled with the lunatic fringe. The planet side trip was no longer alluring, homesickness struck like thunderstorm sounds. The first device failed. Although lacking much dirty software, proprietary binary blobs have infiltrated the machine. Confused and gasping for connection, the next device was unfolded from it’s packaging. This was the device used to construct the following aural contraption. I knew that our time together was limited.
Within days, a ceremonial ritual was performed which revealed revelations of dream times known surely to some. Those who need to know will know, but the images are unavailable to those lacking access to iMagiNation. Chakra energy vortexes fully replenished by non-limited pranic energy, I touched the thing again with the bio-appendages available as part of human equipment. A long sequence of patterns in desperate need of editing due to boring nature unfolded into ear canal as limbs grappled timidly at the keyboards.
“What if I do not make it?” thought happened as a consequence of thinking.
Knowing that it was time to press the save button, yet too engrossed in the ecstasies of audio production, a decision was made to pause the track. As actions unfolded in order to complete this task, the unthinkable happened: device shut down.
Distraught, button sequences were pressed in an attempt to restore the function. No response. Troubleshooting hardware was attempted. Diagnosis: the motherboard passed away.
“I can obtain new one!” thought appeared as a result of associating.
Indeed, a new device was obtained – not too unlike the previous one. Lacking a coherent package manager made it tedious, though not impossible, to configure in a way that functions adequately for purposes.
Within weeks, new albums were generated, though this song’s lack of completion loomed hauntingly. Recovered from the hard-drive, file opened. Return to production re-initiated. Things seemed to be going smoothly. New sound effects added and automations placed strategically to decrease the boring. Until the “export” button was stimulated. Upon the sound of a click, as if magickally, screen glitch-frozen. It looked interesting and sounded suitable, but was an incorrect action by the computer. Within minutes, off-button pressed due to issue. Subsequent events confirmed: hard-drive passed away.
“It’s still okay. I saved the file and have extra hard-drive!” thought flow racing excitedly.
Unscrewing the chassis allowed hard-drive extraction process. New SSD inserted.
The innards of the device in a state no longer suited for the purposes of hosting a functional system.
This was the final blow. I prayed and repented, asking the g-ds for forgiveness for transgressions. Promising myself to eventually become a saint of the church of emacs..
Exploring algorithmic, quasi-automatic playing and aural cut-ups, this is an album-length semi-copy&paste. It is (f)unfortunately left unfinished. To be remembered as The Song That Broke The iThing.
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The Ethernetic Amecylia Music Sprites (TEAMS)