The Weltron 2001 is cool and all, but the 2010 is way cooler. Check this out.
And the "eyes" of the 2010, the FM and AM dials, glow green and red, so you and your special someone can listen in the dark.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
More weird audio equipment
Stuff by Weltron was and is awesome, like out of Logan's Run or something. This kind of cranky jack-ass in Australia is selling this crazy system called the GEC 2007. Seems the inside ring of the radio tuner is a glowing green kaleidoscope.
The Weltron 2001 is cool and all, but the 2010 is way cooler. Check this out.
And the "eyes" of the 2010, the FM and AM dials, glow green and red, so you and your special someone can listen in the dark.
The Weltron 2001 is cool and all, but the 2010 is way cooler. Check this out.
And the "eyes" of the 2010, the FM and AM dials, glow green and red, so you and your special someone can listen in the dark.
TNT 8-Track Player
This thing looks pretty awesome. If I had 8-tracks, I might buy it. You press down the plunger to change tracks, the number of which is indicated on the front. The 8-track is inserted into a slot on the side.
Looks like it comes in yellow, too:
...and blue:
Friday, July 30, 2010
A Song - By Vangelis
A poem by Vangelis, from his track "A Song" from the LP "Earth" (1973), a definite precursor to the last track from Blade Runner, a lovely thing, transcribed by me, from me to you, whoever you are.
A SONG
------
I would like to write a song
that is so vibrant
and is so intimate
that the earth would adopt it,
as if it had sprung
like a stream
from the the land's memory,
as if no one had written it
but life itself.
And my song would travel along
from bird
to wing
to tree
to breeze
to heart
to breath
to song
'cause a song belongs to everyone
like the Spring.
Bye Bye Betty
Light on MAN 1 and MAN 2 sitting at a table at center. Both men are middle aged. A closed book sits on the table in front of Man 1.
MAN 1
Columbine.
MAN 2
École Polytechnique, Montreal Canada, December 6th, 1989.
MAN 1
Texas. That sniper.
MAN 2
You’re referring, I think, to the University of Texas, August 1st, 1966.
MAN 1
That’s the one. The guy with the buzz cut, from the tower.
MAN 2
Virginia Tech, April 16th, 2007. I win.
MAN 1
Okay.
(He picks up the book.)
MAN 2
Another. Serial killers. Once again, restricted to North America, please, and in increasing order by number of victims.
MAN 1
(puts down book)
Go.
MAN 2
Dennis Rader, the BTK killer.
MAN 1
The Hillside Strangler.
MAN 2
Stranglers, actually. But very good. Let’s see...Richard
Ramirez, the Night Stalker.
MAN 1
The Boston Strangler?
MAN 2
Same number as Ramirez. Try again.
MAN 1
How about Jeffrey Dahmer?
MAN 2
Mm-hm. John Wayne Gacy. The Killer Clown.
MAN 1
Ted Bundy.
MAN 2
Gary Ridgway, The Green River Killer. I win.
MAN 1
You win. I guess.
MAN 2
What does that mean, “I guess”?
MAN 1
I’m guessing that you know more than I do about serial killers.
MAN 2
Well, now that you bring it up, Ted Bundy claimed to kill more than a hundred, much more than Gary Ridgway or any other American serial killer. But this has not been proven. Ridgway, on the other hand, confessed to seventy one, is suspected of around ninety, and was convicted of forty eight, the most in U.S. history. Now Bundy, he was convicted of thirty five, so really I should have clarified this as a “most proven victims” contest. Want a restart?
MAN 1
I’ll give it to you. You win.
MAN 2
I always win.
MAN 1
(picks up book)
You do, don’t you.
MAN 2
You need to try harder.
MAN 1
(reading)
Hmm?
MAN 2
I said you need to try harder.
MAN 1
No matter how hard I try, you’ll always know a grislier school shooting or a more prolific serial killer.
MAN 2
I guess you’re right.
MAN 1
And why is that?
MAN 2
What?
MAN 1
Why is it that you know so much about these things?
MAN 2
Well it’s simple: whenever I need a little dose of reality, whenever I feel I’m getting a little out of touch, you know, a little soft, I read about them. I look at videos on YouTube. War footage, snipers in action, roadside bombings, F1 racecar crashes of the sixties and seventies, Columbine security camera tapes--they have a lot of this. And it helps. It works, immediately.
MAN 1
Why didn’t you join the military?
MAN 2
What for? To get myself killed?
MAN 1
You seem to like killing.
MAN 2
Listen to me, I have never killed a living breathing thing in my entire life.
MAN 1
That’s surprising.
MAN 2
Can you say the same?
MAN 1
Well, no actually. I admit to killing a bird.
MAN 2
A bird? That’s it?
MAN 1
That one bird has bothered me for almost thirty years now.
MAN 2
Tell me about it.
MAN 1
No, I’d rather not.
MAN 2
Go ahead.
MAN 1
No.
MAN 2
Come on, talking about it will help. How else, after almost thirty years of being bothered by it, as you say, will you be able to finally forgive yourself and move on?
MAN 1
Okay, all right.
MAN 2
Take a deep breath.
(Man 1 takes a deep breath.)
MAN 2
Take your time now. Don’t rush, just let the memories come back to you, let the bird fly back, think back, take a deep breath, and tell me all about what happened.
MAN 1
(takes another deep breath)
First we tried to take down a squirrel--“we” being me and my best friend at the time, Eric.
MAN 2
Do I know him?
MAN 1
I don’t think so. May I continue?
MAN 2
Please.
MAN 1
This proved unsuccessful. We were in my backyard, and we were using my dad’s pellet rifle. I don’t know where my parents were--working probably. The funny thing was, Eric held the stock, while I held the barrel and aimed. And we were right under the thing, maybe seven or eight feet away. It sat up on a wire right above us, and we hit it about ten times, right in the butt. It didn’t move. It didn’t even flinch. I pumped and pumped the gun, we hit it in the butt over and over again, the thing didn’t move, and finally we gave up. We went around the yard looking for something else to shoot at. We spotted the bird, a little brown bird up on another wire, and we crouched down under it, just like we did with the squirrel, Eric holding the stock, me holding the barrel, Eric pulled the trigger, and that shot, the first one, it hit the bird right in the head. We watched it sit on the wire for a few seconds, suspended, frozen, and then it keeled over and dropped into a bush. I remember it up on that wire after we hit it, it’s little eyes closed, never to open again, and I remember how my heart sank. We dropped the gun in the grass. I felt sick. We promised each other we’d never shoot at anything ever again. We’d had enough. The next day I went back to the spot to see if it was still there. I was thinking of burying it. But it was gone. Maybe an animal got it or something. Or maybe my neighbor or one of my parents found it. Maybe they buried it. I’ll never know.
MAN 2
Wow.
MAN 1
You know, talking about it has made me feel a lot better.
MAN 2
Did you ever have an imaginary friend when you were little?
MAN 1
Actually, yes I did.
MAN 2
So did my little sister. Her imaginary friend was named Betty.
MAN 1
Betty.
MAN 2
That’s right. This was her second imaginary friend. The first was Jenna. She moved away. Then Betty showed up. Her and my sister were best friends. They did everything together. They played board games together, they watched movies together, they ran around the yard together, they made imaginary meals together, they ran an imaginary grocery store, an imaginary beauty salon, imaginary lemonade stands, real lemonade stands, Kool-Aid, cookies, cupcakes--you name it. My little sister had a very vivid and active imagination. And so did Betty, supposedly. And so did I at her age--but I never had an imaginary friend. That’s where I drew the line, I guess. I’d have lots of imaginary wars, gun battles, grenades, bazookas--but no imaginary friends.
MAN 1
Mine was named Kermit.
MAN 2
The idea bothered me. Betty bothered me. She was always around, she had her own chair at the kitchen table, and from the way my sister chatted with her all the time, she was very bratty, precocious, and she hated my guts.
MAN 1
Were you mean to her?
MAN 2
I tried to ignore her. Maybe that’s why she hated me so much.
MAN 1
What makes you bring this up, by the way?
MAN 2
I think I saw her recently.
MAN 1
Betty?
MAN 2
In the Salvation Army store. I was browsing the book section, and there she was--
MAN 1
Did she come out of a book?
MAN 2
This isn’t funny. She was about ten feet away, looking at furniture.
MAN 1
Do imaginary friends need things like a couch?
MAN 2
Evidently, yes. She seemed to be interested in a media center.
MAN 1
Now that is absurd.
MAN 2
There’s nothing absurd about it. I stood there staring at her for about fifteen minutes.
MAN 1
And she didn’t notice you staring at her?
MAN 2
I pretended to be reading “The Red Badge of Courage,” but I kept an eye on her.
MAN 1
That’s a pretty good book. Did you buy it?
MAN 2
I thought maybe I was hallucinating.
MAN 1
You probably were.
MAN 2
I’m in perfect health.
MAN 1
Maybe it’s your job. You’re probably just a little stressed out.
MAN 2
I’m perfectly unstressed, my job is perfectly unstressful, and not a single person in my family has ever had a history of hallucinations or any other kind of mental disturbance.
MAN 1
Maybe you ate something funky. Mold can cause hallucinations.
MAN 2
I tell you I saw her!
MAN 1
Okay, you saw her. But how did you know it was her? How did you know what she looks like?
MAN 2
I had a feeling. A very strong feeling.
MAN 1
That it was Betty. Checking out a media center in a Salvation Army.
MAN 2
That it was none other than Betty.
(He stands up, paces around slowly.)
MAN 2
And that’s strange, because I thought I strangled her to death a long time ago.
(Man 1 watches him, unsure what to say.)
MAN 2
Maybe I didn’t kill her. Maybe she survived.
MAN 1
Maybe you should let it go. Your sister--
MAN 2
My sister never recovered. She had another imaginary friend for a bit--I can’t remember her name--but it wasn’t the same. My sister was never the same.
MAN 1
I’m sure she’s forgiven you by now.
MAN 2
I don’t know. I don’t think so.
MAN 1
Betty--she’s probably forgiven you.
MAN 2
I should have tried talking to her. I could have invited her over.
MAN 1
It’s done. Don’t dwell on it. She probably has her own life, different friends, you have your own life, an unstressful job...
MAN 2
I could have apologized.
MAN 1
You told me about it--doesn’t that make you feel a little better?
MAN 2
Worse.
MAN 1
I think it's time you said "bye" to Betty. Just try to let her go.
MAN 2
(sits down)
I’ll try. At least she’s alive.
MAN 1
That’s right. Betty is alive and well, no reason to worry, no reason to feel guilty.
MAN 2
I should call my sister.
MAN 1
Later, after you calm down a little. And I’m sure it will help your state of mind if you stop thinking about death and killing and stuff. So no more serial killers for a while, okay?
MAN 2
Sure.
MAN 1
No more YouTube. Try...try thinking about something nice, like rainbows.
MAN 2
Rainbows.
MAN 1
A distant rainbow after a summer shower. Something nice, in increasing niceness. Go.
MAN 2
(Pause)
Babies.
MAN 1
Puppies.
(Lights start to fade.)
MAN 2
Valentine’s Day.
MAN 1
Christmas.
MAN 2
New Year’s Eve.
MAN 2
Winning the lottery.
MAN 1
Falling in love.
(Lights out.)
(END OF PLAY)
MAN 1
Columbine.
MAN 2
École Polytechnique, Montreal Canada, December 6th, 1989.
MAN 1
Texas. That sniper.
MAN 2
You’re referring, I think, to the University of Texas, August 1st, 1966.
MAN 1
That’s the one. The guy with the buzz cut, from the tower.
MAN 2
Virginia Tech, April 16th, 2007. I win.
MAN 1
Okay.
(He picks up the book.)
MAN 2
Another. Serial killers. Once again, restricted to North America, please, and in increasing order by number of victims.
MAN 1
(puts down book)
Go.
MAN 2
Dennis Rader, the BTK killer.
MAN 1
The Hillside Strangler.
MAN 2
Stranglers, actually. But very good. Let’s see...Richard
Ramirez, the Night Stalker.
MAN 1
The Boston Strangler?
MAN 2
Same number as Ramirez. Try again.
MAN 1
How about Jeffrey Dahmer?
MAN 2
Mm-hm. John Wayne Gacy. The Killer Clown.
MAN 1
Ted Bundy.
MAN 2
Gary Ridgway, The Green River Killer. I win.
MAN 1
You win. I guess.
MAN 2
What does that mean, “I guess”?
MAN 1
I’m guessing that you know more than I do about serial killers.
MAN 2
Well, now that you bring it up, Ted Bundy claimed to kill more than a hundred, much more than Gary Ridgway or any other American serial killer. But this has not been proven. Ridgway, on the other hand, confessed to seventy one, is suspected of around ninety, and was convicted of forty eight, the most in U.S. history. Now Bundy, he was convicted of thirty five, so really I should have clarified this as a “most proven victims” contest. Want a restart?
MAN 1
I’ll give it to you. You win.
MAN 2
I always win.
MAN 1
(picks up book)
You do, don’t you.
MAN 2
You need to try harder.
MAN 1
(reading)
Hmm?
MAN 2
I said you need to try harder.
MAN 1
No matter how hard I try, you’ll always know a grislier school shooting or a more prolific serial killer.
MAN 2
I guess you’re right.
MAN 1
And why is that?
MAN 2
What?
MAN 1
Why is it that you know so much about these things?
MAN 2
Well it’s simple: whenever I need a little dose of reality, whenever I feel I’m getting a little out of touch, you know, a little soft, I read about them. I look at videos on YouTube. War footage, snipers in action, roadside bombings, F1 racecar crashes of the sixties and seventies, Columbine security camera tapes--they have a lot of this. And it helps. It works, immediately.
MAN 1
Why didn’t you join the military?
MAN 2
What for? To get myself killed?
MAN 1
You seem to like killing.
MAN 2
Listen to me, I have never killed a living breathing thing in my entire life.
MAN 1
That’s surprising.
MAN 2
Can you say the same?
MAN 1
Well, no actually. I admit to killing a bird.
MAN 2
A bird? That’s it?
MAN 1
That one bird has bothered me for almost thirty years now.
MAN 2
Tell me about it.
MAN 1
No, I’d rather not.
MAN 2
Go ahead.
MAN 1
No.
MAN 2
Come on, talking about it will help. How else, after almost thirty years of being bothered by it, as you say, will you be able to finally forgive yourself and move on?
MAN 1
Okay, all right.
MAN 2
Take a deep breath.
(Man 1 takes a deep breath.)
MAN 2
Take your time now. Don’t rush, just let the memories come back to you, let the bird fly back, think back, take a deep breath, and tell me all about what happened.
MAN 1
(takes another deep breath)
First we tried to take down a squirrel--“we” being me and my best friend at the time, Eric.
MAN 2
Do I know him?
MAN 1
I don’t think so. May I continue?
MAN 2
Please.
MAN 1
This proved unsuccessful. We were in my backyard, and we were using my dad’s pellet rifle. I don’t know where my parents were--working probably. The funny thing was, Eric held the stock, while I held the barrel and aimed. And we were right under the thing, maybe seven or eight feet away. It sat up on a wire right above us, and we hit it about ten times, right in the butt. It didn’t move. It didn’t even flinch. I pumped and pumped the gun, we hit it in the butt over and over again, the thing didn’t move, and finally we gave up. We went around the yard looking for something else to shoot at. We spotted the bird, a little brown bird up on another wire, and we crouched down under it, just like we did with the squirrel, Eric holding the stock, me holding the barrel, Eric pulled the trigger, and that shot, the first one, it hit the bird right in the head. We watched it sit on the wire for a few seconds, suspended, frozen, and then it keeled over and dropped into a bush. I remember it up on that wire after we hit it, it’s little eyes closed, never to open again, and I remember how my heart sank. We dropped the gun in the grass. I felt sick. We promised each other we’d never shoot at anything ever again. We’d had enough. The next day I went back to the spot to see if it was still there. I was thinking of burying it. But it was gone. Maybe an animal got it or something. Or maybe my neighbor or one of my parents found it. Maybe they buried it. I’ll never know.
MAN 2
Wow.
MAN 1
You know, talking about it has made me feel a lot better.
MAN 2
Did you ever have an imaginary friend when you were little?
MAN 1
Actually, yes I did.
MAN 2
So did my little sister. Her imaginary friend was named Betty.
MAN 1
Betty.
MAN 2
That’s right. This was her second imaginary friend. The first was Jenna. She moved away. Then Betty showed up. Her and my sister were best friends. They did everything together. They played board games together, they watched movies together, they ran around the yard together, they made imaginary meals together, they ran an imaginary grocery store, an imaginary beauty salon, imaginary lemonade stands, real lemonade stands, Kool-Aid, cookies, cupcakes--you name it. My little sister had a very vivid and active imagination. And so did Betty, supposedly. And so did I at her age--but I never had an imaginary friend. That’s where I drew the line, I guess. I’d have lots of imaginary wars, gun battles, grenades, bazookas--but no imaginary friends.
MAN 1
Mine was named Kermit.
MAN 2
The idea bothered me. Betty bothered me. She was always around, she had her own chair at the kitchen table, and from the way my sister chatted with her all the time, she was very bratty, precocious, and she hated my guts.
MAN 1
Were you mean to her?
MAN 2
I tried to ignore her. Maybe that’s why she hated me so much.
MAN 1
What makes you bring this up, by the way?
MAN 2
I think I saw her recently.
MAN 1
Betty?
MAN 2
In the Salvation Army store. I was browsing the book section, and there she was--
MAN 1
Did she come out of a book?
MAN 2
This isn’t funny. She was about ten feet away, looking at furniture.
MAN 1
Do imaginary friends need things like a couch?
MAN 2
Evidently, yes. She seemed to be interested in a media center.
MAN 1
Now that is absurd.
MAN 2
There’s nothing absurd about it. I stood there staring at her for about fifteen minutes.
MAN 1
And she didn’t notice you staring at her?
MAN 2
I pretended to be reading “The Red Badge of Courage,” but I kept an eye on her.
MAN 1
That’s a pretty good book. Did you buy it?
MAN 2
I thought maybe I was hallucinating.
MAN 1
You probably were.
MAN 2
I’m in perfect health.
MAN 1
Maybe it’s your job. You’re probably just a little stressed out.
MAN 2
I’m perfectly unstressed, my job is perfectly unstressful, and not a single person in my family has ever had a history of hallucinations or any other kind of mental disturbance.
MAN 1
Maybe you ate something funky. Mold can cause hallucinations.
MAN 2
I tell you I saw her!
MAN 1
Okay, you saw her. But how did you know it was her? How did you know what she looks like?
MAN 2
I had a feeling. A very strong feeling.
MAN 1
That it was Betty. Checking out a media center in a Salvation Army.
MAN 2
That it was none other than Betty.
(He stands up, paces around slowly.)
MAN 2
And that’s strange, because I thought I strangled her to death a long time ago.
(Man 1 watches him, unsure what to say.)
MAN 2
Maybe I didn’t kill her. Maybe she survived.
MAN 1
Maybe you should let it go. Your sister--
MAN 2
My sister never recovered. She had another imaginary friend for a bit--I can’t remember her name--but it wasn’t the same. My sister was never the same.
MAN 1
I’m sure she’s forgiven you by now.
MAN 2
I don’t know. I don’t think so.
MAN 1
Betty--she’s probably forgiven you.
MAN 2
I should have tried talking to her. I could have invited her over.
MAN 1
It’s done. Don’t dwell on it. She probably has her own life, different friends, you have your own life, an unstressful job...
MAN 2
I could have apologized.
MAN 1
You told me about it--doesn’t that make you feel a little better?
MAN 2
Worse.
MAN 1
I think it's time you said "bye" to Betty. Just try to let her go.
MAN 2
(sits down)
I’ll try. At least she’s alive.
MAN 1
That’s right. Betty is alive and well, no reason to worry, no reason to feel guilty.
MAN 2
I should call my sister.
MAN 1
Later, after you calm down a little. And I’m sure it will help your state of mind if you stop thinking about death and killing and stuff. So no more serial killers for a while, okay?
MAN 2
Sure.
MAN 1
No more YouTube. Try...try thinking about something nice, like rainbows.
MAN 2
Rainbows.
MAN 1
A distant rainbow after a summer shower. Something nice, in increasing niceness. Go.
MAN 2
(Pause)
Babies.
MAN 1
Puppies.
(Lights start to fade.)
MAN 2
Valentine’s Day.
MAN 1
Christmas.
MAN 2
New Year’s Eve.
MAN 2
Winning the lottery.
MAN 1
Falling in love.
(Lights out.)
(END OF PLAY)
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