Communication With Howard
I must find an app just like the one on my phone which transcribes whatever I say into the text box; and then bring a device like a tablet over to Howard
Westra's house when I visit, so that I could speak in a normal voice to him and he would have roughly the equivalent of the "closed captioning for the hearing impaired" thing which is on his TV, appear in text on his screen.
Without the annoyance of the seven second delay.
I am assuming that the one used by the networks is a machine.
A human being, who would most likely have a knowledge in whatever sport he is transcribing the broadcasts of, would be able to intuit a lot of things like, say, a foul ball being hit "way up into the cheap seats" at the ballpark.
A real person would most likely pause before causing a box to pop on the screen, telling people like Howard that the guy at the plate "is just waist deep in cheat sheets," for example. That one might even get a "That didn't make any sense!" out of ol' Howard.
But, were I to have the same thing as I have on my phone, I could prop up the tablet screen in front of Howard and then speak away.
This would eliminate an effect that I have no sniglett for but which results in a conversation that is being yelled to a deaf person also being dumbed down, as if the baffled look on the guy's face is due to a struggle to comprehend, rather than just to hear.
This is probably ingrained through the similarity between people who don't understand English and who hence have to be spoken to slowly, using simple words and littered with hand gestures and pointing.
There's only so much a holding out and fluttering of one hand in the air in response to: "So how have you been?" can convey.
As far as fodder for this blog, I feel like I am in a vast expanse of space empty all around me, and with one of the nearest objects of any mass being the Superbowl. It is moving away at such a rate that the frequency of light coming from it has been slowed to a dark red in color.
But, one of the biggest things that I took away from watching the Superbowl was the shift in marketing strategy that seemed to run through all the commercials like a thread, which was to attack the competition to whatever the advertised products were.
I can remember the breakthrough in marketing regulations which occurred in probably the 1980's that allowed generic brands to start to affix the "compare to [major brand]" words to their labels. That was a big one.
Before that, you might see that the ingredients in both brands were exactly the same, but might think that the "store brand" was of inferior quality, hence their being much cheaper.
Before that, as in ten years before, it was considered unethical, maybe for lack of a better word, for doctors and lawyers to advertise for patients and clients. Now lawyers advertise for patients for doctors on billboards.
But, from the pot shots that Budweiser, I think it was, took at Miller and Coors, pointing out that they both used corn syrup -mmm, pure Rocky Mountain water and corn syrup!- to other advertisers that did as much to bash the competition as to promote thier goods, that was like a thread throughout the ads..."Try getting that from Metro Mobile or Verizon!!" type of thing.
It was the presidential debates a couple years ago where I first noticed this strategy employed.
You don't want Crooked Hillary, Lyin' Ted, or Little Rubio, they use corn syrup, type of thing...
Literally anyone but them...
Our culture is seen by "Madison Avenue" to be more strongly motivated to move away from the things it doesn't want -rather than to blindly pursue their bliss.
Jacob Guest Busks At The Lilly Pad
Thursday night saw my arrival at the Lilly Pad with one Jacob Scardino in tow, carrying a seven stringed instrument that looked like a guitar but had curved frets.
We had a good jam and made a passable live recording, a guy came along and sang the entire Hotel California -excerpt coming soon- with us before telling us that he wished that he had some cash, to go with another guy who had kind of done the same thing.
It just seemed like the group of tourists who had only tipped me 4 bucks a couple nights before were still in town.
The addition of Jacob seemed to have attracted maybe one or two more gay guys than on a regular night. I guess me playing "Father Figure," by George Michaels didn't help that statistic.
At least we didn't have to field requests for Justin Beiber, Fun, Ed Sheeran or Maroon Five, based upon Jacob's being of "that" generation.
Marooned Saturday
Right now, my guitar is at Bobby's apartment, having had the new bone nut piece glued into place.
This was probably a tactical error, because I am broke and will have no money upon waking up in the morning. The strings had been holding the piece in place but were always subject to being knocked out of tune if I bent a string hard.
I definitely could have made it through a night with the thing.
The temperature is hovering right in the middle of the playable range, at 55 degrees.
I must find an app just like the one on my phone which transcribes whatever I say into the text box; and then bring a device like a tablet over to Howard
Without the annoyance of the seven second delay.
I am assuming that the one used by the networks is a machine.
A human being, who would most likely have a knowledge in whatever sport he is transcribing the broadcasts of, would be able to intuit a lot of things like, say, a foul ball being hit "way up into the cheap seats" at the ballpark.
A real person would most likely pause before causing a box to pop on the screen, telling people like Howard that the guy at the plate "is just waist deep in cheat sheets," for example. That one might even get a "That didn't make any sense!" out of ol' Howard.
But, were I to have the same thing as I have on my phone, I could prop up the tablet screen in front of Howard and then speak away.
This would eliminate an effect that I have no sniglett for but which results in a conversation that is being yelled to a deaf person also being dumbed down, as if the baffled look on the guy's face is due to a struggle to comprehend, rather than just to hear.
This is probably ingrained through the similarity between people who don't understand English and who hence have to be spoken to slowly, using simple words and littered with hand gestures and pointing.
There's only so much a holding out and fluttering of one hand in the air in response to: "So how have you been?" can convey.
As far as fodder for this blog, I feel like I am in a vast expanse of space empty all around me, and with one of the nearest objects of any mass being the Superbowl. It is moving away at such a rate that the frequency of light coming from it has been slowed to a dark red in color.
I can remember the breakthrough in marketing regulations which occurred in probably the 1980's that allowed generic brands to start to affix the "compare to [major brand]" words to their labels. That was a big one.
Before that, you might see that the ingredients in both brands were exactly the same, but might think that the "store brand" was of inferior quality, hence their being much cheaper.
Before that, as in ten years before, it was considered unethical, maybe for lack of a better word, for doctors and lawyers to advertise for patients and clients. Now lawyers advertise for patients for doctors on billboards.
But, from the pot shots that Budweiser, I think it was, took at Miller and Coors, pointing out that they both used corn syrup -mmm, pure Rocky Mountain water and corn syrup!- to other advertisers that did as much to bash the competition as to promote thier goods, that was like a thread throughout the ads..."Try getting that from Metro Mobile or Verizon!!" type of thing.
It was the presidential debates a couple years ago where I first noticed this strategy employed.
You don't want Crooked Hillary, Lyin' Ted, or Little Rubio, they use corn syrup, type of thing...
Literally anyone but them...
Our culture is seen by "Madison Avenue" to be more strongly motivated to move away from the things it doesn't want -rather than to blindly pursue their bliss.
Jacob Guest Busks At The Lilly Pad
Thursday night saw my arrival at the Lilly Pad with one Jacob Scardino in tow, carrying a seven stringed instrument that looked like a guitar but had curved frets.
We had a good jam and made a passable live recording, a guy came along and sang the entire Hotel California -excerpt coming soon- with us before telling us that he wished that he had some cash, to go with another guy who had kind of done the same thing.
It just seemed like the group of tourists who had only tipped me 4 bucks a couple nights before were still in town.
The addition of Jacob seemed to have attracted maybe one or two more gay guys than on a regular night. I guess me playing "Father Figure," by George Michaels didn't help that statistic.
At least we didn't have to field requests for Justin Beiber, Fun, Ed Sheeran or Maroon Five, based upon Jacob's being of "that" generation.
Marooned Saturday
Right now, my guitar is at Bobby's apartment, having had the new bone nut piece glued into place.
This was probably a tactical error, because I am broke and will have no money upon waking up in the morning. The strings had been holding the piece in place but were always subject to being knocked out of tune if I bent a string hard.
I definitely could have made it through a night with the thing.
The temperature is hovering right in the middle of the playable range, at 55 degrees.
Gosh how long does it take to install a bone nut? Even with conventional epoxy glue it only takes overnight to harden.
ReplyDeleteIn other news, it's been 45 degrees or less in the evening here. I dunno what the various buskers and beggars are doing. Only a couple die-hards, Gabriel the Violin Guy and a couple of hardened beggars out there in the evening these days.
And it's been raining a ton too ... but speaking as a californian Rain Is Good(tm)