Category Archives: Blog

The Flanger Perception

The flanger perception.

So there is this song. And there are these wave files that I created by yelling miserably into the microphone, because that is what the song warranted. So I was a bit intimate with the mic. It happens right? And the take turned out just how I wanted it. I didn’t really check the result in the file.

So that’s all fine and dandy. Files are sent to Bill. He puts them in place, sounds great.

Except for this little click I hear. It annoys me. Now, fast forward a few weeks when we go back and forth working on the mixes for this album – This Sundered World. Many things are redone and fixed, and straightened out. But that click is still there.

Bil: “Where? I can’t hear it.”

Fast forward some more. I’m ready to bite my fingers off.
Bill is ready to send me to the lunatic asylum. I’m hearing things all over the place.
Finally we get some other problems taken care of, everything is fine.

Except for that click. That damn click.

Bill: “Where? I still can’t hear anything.”

Silence

Bill: “Well, there is that tiny little click there. I thought it was part of the flanger.”

Silence.

Bill: “Oh. What are the F-ing odds of that? It’s in the flanger. Shut that off and it’s gone.”

Me: “Ah.”

Bill: “the main shape of the flanger setting is rectangular
with no smoothness, it’s got a vertical transition across the waveform axis. All I did was change the shape of the flange and it’s fixed.”

At that point I glazed over and started thinking about other things. Not that I don’t understand it, but there is a reason I sing. I can be a tiresome pain in the ass and in the end Bill will fix the bad I create, and I don’t need to understand waveform politics.

Me: “So it wasn’t all my fault then?”

Bill: “Well, if you had been singing it differently…”

Me: “Blow me.”

So, In the end I’m not going to the asylum, although I’m certain that Bill will find more reasons to send the dreaded men in white to Ontario. But I can deal with that.
more importantly; I will check my files more often. And Bill will never again trust a flanger.

JennyK – From the dungeons of phase shifting and zero-crossings.

The assumption entrapment

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I assume you assume things, I assume

You know what people say: Assume makes and ass out of you and me.

So why do I assume shit? 😀

I dunno. Some of the things are just stupid mistakes such as assuming this video or that audio will work after I publish. Why? Well, it works for me.

Sigh.

Yeah, private videos work for me. But only for me. 😀

And assuming that broken links are just something wordpress makes up to annoy me because they’ve been incorrect so many times, reporting broken links that were only temporarily down. At some point I stopped checking the notifications because I did what? Ah, that’s right. I assumed I knew better than wordpress. 😀

The worst assumption of them all:
Assuming that someone might mention it? “Hey dickhead, yur video isn’t working! You suck!”

I wouldn’t mind that one little bit. I prefer dickhead over nothing. And it is true that “I suck!” if I assume it’s working. After twenty plus years online, I really should know better.

And really, if I really think about what I would do when coming across a broken link, missing video, messed up page…

Um… that’s right. As a rule I do nothing. I move on in search for something else that will work. There is plenty around. 😀

Sigh.

So, basically I suck! But that’s alright, I’m in good company on this thing they call the
World Wide Whereverittakesme.

Cheers.

JennyK

Sundered – Developing the game – From World building to conversation – Interactive Fiction Creation

Sundered – The Game – Creation of.

An interactive not quite steampunk Interaction

Play Sundered in your browser! (Opens in new window.)

There are no downloads for the work in progress. At time of Alpha testing, files will be made available.

Sundered – The concept

It all started in the fall of 2015. This Sundered world is a prog-metal album, a novel, and now I got it in my mind to write this Interactive fiction game with it. Oh, I almost forgot. What say ye of a graphic novel? Huh? Actually, graphic novel might be a maybe. i love the idea but shit, there are only so many hours in a day so that is a loose thread as of yet. the game is related to the novel and takes place in the same universe, but is unrelated in every way from the novel so playing the game will produce no spoilers.

So that is why i set up this page from the start. This game in progress will be playable at every step of the way but there will be little to do to start with. We meet Gabriel. We meet Bird. And we get to know the world in a typical Interactive Fiction condensed fiction fashion. So, if you are interested in following the building of this game, come back every now and then to see what Gabriel is up to and what he is capable of.

Before you click on the link above to play the game, you may want to start this player. “This Sundered World” is as you may guess the title track for the music album under production right now by the brand new band “Icarus Machine”. More information on that is upcoming. Enjoy, as more stuff will come along and fill this game and this page with interesting stuff.

From the game

Excerpts from the actual game play. Including work in progress fuckups coming up as there is more gameplay to draw from.

Call to action

At this point, there is not much game to report bugs on. But I will happily take what you find as well as suggestions. Please add your thoughts on this page.

JennyK

JennyK and this sundered world – What’s happening?

It’s a new year. Now, let’s do it all again.

And so much more. This is my first post on Studio Chaotic since July of last year and I have no good excuse for that. But it has been busy and many things have come my way that I will tell you all about. But it will be in bits here and bits there. I am working currently on an album on
Kompoz.com
It is a blast, I get to write lyrics, and sing my heart out. Along with various other collaborations on Kompoz it fills my days. I will post new music right here, right shortly.

Instead of talking myself blue about what I’m doing, let’s see what’s immediate and current while getting a sneak view on what we are doing and where it’s at. So listen to Bill. And, if that drummer is you? Come talk to us on Kompoz.

Be awesome, happy, and always supplied with coffee.

Jenny, Bill, and Jordi

Polish that turd. And if it doesn’t shine, flush. Why edit that puppy?

Editing — Don’t wanna, don’t wanna don’t wanna.

I suppose I should. 🙂

I just started looking over a novel I’ve had lying around for a number of years now. It’s one of the few finished longer works I’ve written. But it needs editing. As I read over a couple of chapters I realize that I’ve committed what i now would consider a deadly sin as an author. I assumed that the reader needed to be lead by the hand. There is a tendency to tell instead of show. To my annoyance I find far too much information about things that either don’t matter or that the reader has already learned. This novel needs serious editing mainly because I treated the reader like an idiot. And that’s just where the work starts. Because I’m not even mentioning the bad grammar littering this novel. The excerpt below is one of the better ones.

So here’s my short but critical list of things to keep in mind:

  • Don’t treat your reader like an idiot. I, as a reader, don’t like to be told three times in three different ways what is going on. Chances are that you said it already but in such a context that it becomes just a hint and the reader creates his or her own image of what’s happening. Mystery is nice and I love the feeling of “figuring it out”. Describing all physical attributes does not do your characters any favors. Let the reader create the world based on your framework and it will come to life much easier.
  • Don’t be afraid to cut, delete, rewrite, and rearrange. Editing is what makes the story shine. Sometimes it feels like polishing a turd but other times it’s like extracting a precious gem out of rock. If a paragraph simply won’t sit right and you just can’t make it work for you; consider if what you’re saying needs to be told at all? Is it redundant? Does it add to the story? Or does it distract from it. It could simply be better placed somewhere else in the story. Rewriting is another option. But if it really does nothing for you it will not do anything for the reader and it needs to go away. In this story in particular I realized today that the prologue has to go and I will hate to kill it. But it really doesn’t do anything for me and killing this one part may just save the entire story.
  • And that’s that. Keep writing.

    Excerpt

    Shadowlands

    Bob Teller stepped out of his car. He hurried around the hood of the brand new Honda and stepped over a low fence. He was in a hurry and it was nasty cold out here. He shivered and the corners of his full soft lips pulled down in an expression of distaste mingled with desperation. Bobs face was the kind of face that made people around himn comfortable and for the most part trusting. He was well aware of it and used it to its full extent. Many deals had been signed to his satisfaction because of it. That is what he believed and for the most part he was absolutely right. If the potential customers could see his face right now though, crumpled up in dismay and disgust, perhaps they would have glimpsed just a fraction of Tellers true nature. Today though, it had gone as planned and he was satisfied. Until this moment.
    Bob snorted and surveyed the ground carefully before settling his perfectly polished shoes on the slope leading down in a deep ditch. His carefully combed over hair fluttered in a cold wind, exposing his much hated spot of shiny scalp. He was overdressed for this specific occasion and he glanced along the road. He wouldn’t want to be caught dead in a predicament like this. He opened his pants and shivered again as he exposed his private parts to the empty road and dark forest. It was bad enough that he had to go to this shit hole of a town and when he hadn’t found a single washroom that he could enter without disinfecting himself and the facility first, he had panicked.
    With the town hall meeting concluded, not at all a waste of time when considering the nice little bonus he could expect from the finished deal with the town of Omni. Coffee, always coffee. That blonde thing had been very persuasive though. He would have shugged another couple of cups just to have that chest bobbing in that way , just so, one more time. A lady like that was wasted talent in a small time town like that.

    Bob grimaced as he considered the unavoidable marks and dirt on his shoes. If you have to go you have to go. Hail nor rain nor snow can stop that, it was cold though. A piece of fluttering fabric caught his eye. Behind those shrubs, just inside the tree-line beyond the ditch with its toxin covered sand and gravel.
    He couldn’t quite see what it was, a bundle of, something. He cursed when he thought of the glasses still lying on the passenger seat in the car. He never drove with them actually on, but kept them close by just in case. He leaned over further as he relieved the pressure and squinted.

    A pair of pants, a pair of shoes, a coat. The man took a step back and caught the railing with his knees. The final squirt of yellow urine splashed over his shoe and the hem of his suit trousers. He scrambled backward while putting himself back through the fly on the silk boxers and closed his pants. He didn’t look away from what stuck out of one sleeve. The hand was bony and gray, too thin and lay curled half in and half out of a new looking brown leather glove.

    He reached out to move some branches out of the way. He needed to see. His attention was drawn to something else though. Something that made him pull his hand back and take a step backwards. Something that wouldn’t have bothered him in the least on a normal day. This was not a normal day though and he wished he had never accepted that third cup of coffee. A leather band, three quarter of an inch wide, ending in a loop, lay wrapped around what he knew for sure now was an arm. A glint of silvery metal half obscured by the glove. The glove that he knew now contained something he knew he didn’t want to see.
    gingerly moved a few br , flat. There was definitely a pair of dark brown pants, a coat and, .wasn’t that a hat?
    It dawned on him. A scarecrow. He looked away the man sighed, people throw the most weird stuff on the side of the road.
    The image had been fuzzy but for sure, there was no person inside that outfit. He decided without thinking too long about it not to fetch the glasses from the car, he decided not to make his way through the bushes to take a closer look Those branches could after all end up wrecking his new suit. He also decided that what he saw was a scarecrow and nothing else. He hurried back to his car. Perhaps the speed was slightly too high when he passed the exit leading into Omni, perhaps the odd feeling in the back of his mind stayed for a while, but only for a while.

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Life is a work in progress. Why the rush to be done? A reflection.

What’s the hurry?

There’s a man in the area. He is obviously retired and spends most days adding rocks to a stone wall. This is all I know about this man; He builds this seemingly endless stone wall and I think to myself: “There is no way he will ever get done that wall.” Because he is taking his time; placing a few rocks in place each day, not hurrying, seemingly not working particularly hard at it. I instantly have another thought:
“When this wall is ever completed, he will sit down in the grass next to the end of the wall and die.”

Maybe I’m totally wrong. Maybe not.

It seems to me that the society I live in these days focus on finishing. To be done. Complete this or that project, make enough money, learn everything about this or that subject, to reach the end.

I think that’s a great attitude. Half-assed work is not something I want to deal with. But is that really what we should focus on?

Are you done? Did you finish? Is it complete?

Well no. I’m not done. because when it all comes down to it. I don’t want life to be done because then I would be dead. I don’t want all projects finished because then I would have nothing to do. I don’t want to know everything because there would be nothing more to learn. I would be finished. And in that sense, the word “finished” takes on a totally different connotation doesn’t it?

I’m done for, this relationship is finished, I’m at the end of my rope, finished, finito.

I see life as a work in progress and those who say they are as good as they ever will be; have already started to go stale. This doesn’t mean that contentment is a bad thing. Not at all. But if content means the end of learning and ability to change, then it is.

Being human must never be considered a finished project because once society settles with “Good enough”,; it will immediately start to crumble.

So, take your time and finish when it’s ready, not when the deadline says it should be done.

Its good that it’s better but it would be better if it was good.
Paraphrasing Bo Eriksson.

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