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Unabashedly liberal; unrepenitently literary. Pogo will always be my candidate for best comic strip ever. An appreciation from the WaPo.
MPAA spokesflack Brad Hunt tried to sell a roomful of Hollywood tech types on "plugging the analog hole." Ought to be a slam dunk, right? Apparently not. The group groaned out loud when he said that retailers would have to educate consumers on its implications and after more probing questions, he got this one: "This is a room full of people whose living depends on this working. You're getting pushback to the point of hostility. If you can't sell this to us, how are you going to sell it to the target 16–45 demographic?"
iPod Hi-Fi? "iPod Hi-Fi accurately reproduces the lowest cello notes and the highest piccolo notes; the brittle strum of an acoustic guitar and the powerful thump of a driving bass."
Uh huh—as long as they're between 53Hz and 16kHz. For 128kbps files, that's probably good enough, but hi-fi it ain't.
I don't know anything about Ethan Winer except that he made one heck of a cool video of himself playing cello. It's all cello, baby.
There's another complication.
I spoke with my father today. Circumstances forced me to give him my current home address. I don't think this will be a problem, but I've kept my home secret from him for the last five years for very good reason. The last time he knew where I lived, he showed up on my doorstep — drunk, beaten, and looking for a place to stay. It was winter. I couldn't. I should say: I didn't. I didn't turn him away, though perhaps I should have. This was when I was living in Bloomfield and just beginning my career at Stereophile; I arrived home from work one evening…
Walking tours featuring the gargoyles, green men, griffins, and hippogryphs of New York. When I first moved here, my wife told me that looking up all the time marked me as a tourist, which seemed like a terrible thing to be. Then I discovered that by not looking up, I missed all of this stuff, which seemed much worse.
The BBC's Adam Livingstone says that he knows it's not—even if the Beeb did use the "t-word" in a story last week.
it seems they got letters.
Dear "poker casino 875,"
I hate you.
I hate you.
I wish you would leave our forums alone. We don't want you. Audiophiles enjoy spending vast amounts of money, energy, and time on creating the illusion of live music played back in our dusty and cluttered listening rooms. We don't like casinos. They're noisy. The soundstage sucks. The imaging is total crap. The overall sonic signature is all high-end bells and whistles. Where's that magical midrange, that glorious deep bass? Unless you are providing them as some sort of absurd and mystical tweak — something that can, perhaps, be placed…
Nanopaint that blocks cell phones? Yowsah!
And then I wondered, couldn't it also block RF from my hi-fi?
Here's more.
Chapter one: vasopressin and oxytocin did it.