Where Do You Get Your Ideas? Torture and Torcher and original fiction!

"Where do you get your ideas" seems to be one of the first questions non-writers like to ask writers about their work. The more time I spend writing, the more it seems to be not quite the right question. The challenge - at least for me - isn't in finding ideas, but in shaping those ideas into something larger.  Ideas in and of themselves are pretty much everywhere. Some examples, from my own work and others of a few sorts of inspirations which speak to me:

Mishearings, Overhearings, and Misprints
For those who don't know, I've worked in New York City for quite some years now. One day I saw a beggar holding a cardboard sign, hand-written in black marker the way such things often are, pleading for help as he was a "victim of government torcher." The person, the setting, and pretty much everything else about the situation were soon forgotten. What stuck with me was that misspelling (deliberate? A sign of poor education? Mental illness? Performance art? It's impossible to know). I found the near homonyms "torture" and "torcher" compelling enough to start tinkering and world-building around it. What I ended up with, of course, was "The Torcher's Tale", eventually serialized here.

Taken to a literal extreme, this is a technique used in some sorts of modern poetry. I'm thinking specifically of Bart Silliman, who's published entire volumes of simple transcripts of every word he uttered over the course of a week, traffic reports, and other "found language". My own inspiration doesn't run quite so far to the conceptual as this, but share the greater message in that openness to the world around us can be a source of art..

Here's a short scrap or horror that came to me from someone else's typo: "Willow water" for "shallow water". 

Strip slender branches of bark, soak in pure spring water. Mix lustrous hair, salty tears. 

Two drops fresh blood, three torn pages from your journal. All into the cauldron, slowly 

simmering, leaving air thickly scented; decaying pulp, moist earth, echoes.

I plant a bough entwined with another stolen lock and bloody tooth. Pour hallowed 

willow tonic, whisper prayers to beloved memories.

No matter if it fails to take root. From my dungeon more eyelashes, skin, bones, and 

humours can still be harvested, as will salty flow from eyes that once held devotion.

 

Images and Games, and Constraints
Sometimes a picture or phrase suggests a story. Those who've spent some time on this blog saw my collection of Nightmare Fuel stories from this past October. The Brooklyn Speculative Fiction Writers have also been known to share an image prompt from time to time. We've even toyed with the idea of a writing-only meetup in which we all take a prompt and try to make something of it.

I also adore writing games. Challenges to use certain words or concepts in a story, exquisite corpses, or shared "pass the story" exercises are not only great ways to get started on something, but great practice for thinking outside of ones comfort zone. If you again look back through my archives, you can see the blog-hop stories I wrote with various co-contributors. I don't necessarily think that all of these represent my very best work or are completely reflective of my style, but it's healthy as an artist to branch out.

What makes this kind of thing interesting to me is that the sometimes artificial constraint of having to use a certain image or follow some seemingly arbitrary rule makes it easier for me to write than a pure blank slate with no rules. The rules create a framework on which to build everything else.

Taken to an extreme, this kind of thinking can lead to absurdly difficult stunt-writing. One of my favorite professional examples is Christian Bok's "Eunoia". It's a weird sort of narrative poem divided into five chapters, each of which only uses one vowel. In case this isn't difficult enough, he attempted to use as many words as possible and have each chapter include a banquet, an orgy, and a nautical journey. This is the kind of thing in which I'm in awe.

Others' Works

Even if one isn't going to write fan-fiction or use other characters, there's rich inspiration to be found in other literature. Sometimes a story suggests an image; Science fiction writer Harlan Ellison read Robert Bloch's classic story "Yours Truly, Jack the Ripper" (in which Jack is revealed to be a supernatural monster extending his life through murder of innocent victims) and became obsessed with the image of Jack in a sterile and clean far-future. Bloch took this image to write "A Toy for Juliette" which didn't do quite as much with Ellison's vision as it could have. Ellison's "The Prowler in the City at the Edge of the World" took this one step farther and gave us what Ellison saw as the story.

I recall reading a story in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction the author and title of which I can't quite recall; it told of an adult who had, as a child, visited a Narnia-like fantasy world and battled some great evil. Now, as an adult, he returned to actually finish killing it. What bothered me was the simple binary of good and evil, and the assumption that the "good" fantasy creature was pure good and the only solution was to slay the "bad" creature. So, I wrote the following, presented here in its entirety for your enjoyment. 

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"The Battle for the World as a Succession of Bedtime Stories

by L Czhorat Suskin

We were brave. Being brave means doing something even if it is scary. Like climbing the big ladder on the playground by yourself. That’s brave.

Anyway, like I was saying,  the world on the other side was strange and different, but we were brave. Even when it was hard to be. We were brave. We went through the hedgerow, to the world beyond, and fought the Reaper. It was big and scary, but the Guardian told us it needed to be beaten. We did, because we were brave.

No, it doesn’t mean that we weren’t scared. Being brave means doing what you need to do anyway. Even when you are scared.

Sarah and Billy and I were brave enough to cross over beyond the hedgerow, to fight the Reaper and to save the world.

#

I don’t remember the first time we met the Guardian, but I remember the first time he told us about the Reaper. On this side of the Hedgerow he looked like a dog. A beautiful dog. Like a golden retriever or something. He told us it would be scary, that the Reaper was dangerous. But we followed him.

Because we were brave.

#

On the other side, the guardian was bigger, like a wolf. A beautiful wolf. He walked like a man, but hunched over, like he wasn’t used to it. The way a dog would walk if you taught it to. Or one of those poor bears some circuses have.

What’s the other side like? It’s different. Like I told you, there were yellowish, licorice-smelling trees. Orange-red sand, the color of ripe tomatoes. Dusty, winding woodland paths between those weird trees. Sometimes we’d find these sorry bundles of sticks and string with little bundles of dried up food under them. This was the first lesson from the Guardian.

“This is an offering shrine of the Reaper’s people. Through these shrines they can let evil seep into the land.”

I frowned. “Why don’t you just get rid of them?”

The Guardian hung its head. “there are rules between his people and mine. Old rules I can’t break. His people were once very strong.”

No, I don’t know who made the rules. But aren’t there rules in all of the old stories? Remember the one about the girl visiting the dark half of the world who promised not to eat anything? And she had the six seeds and that’s why we get winter? It was probably like that. That’s a great point. Not knowing all the rules was probably why it was so scary.

So anyway, there were these little pointy, spiky bundles of sticks the Guardian called shrines. Billy ran at one of them and, without stopping, planted his foot next to it and kicked like he was shooting a soccer ball. The sticks were dry enough that they exploded into shards and splinters which he gleefully stomped. I was impressed.

“That was awesome. Let me do the next one!” I yelled.

“You gotta spot it first,” Billy answered. This gave us a great game for the rest of the trip. Whoever spotted one would yell “shrinekick!” and we'd race to see who could boot it first. We knew they were evil things by the long, angry scratches they’d give our legs if we didn’t aim our kick just right.

Sara never joined us and never spotted one.

#

Billy and I were brave, but Sarah was smart. She’s the one who found the Reaper’s one weakness disguised in a riddle, buried in a book called the White Grimoire. Grimoire is another word for an old, fancy book of magic.

He took us across the hedgerow, the way he always did. One side Mrs. Hiller’s lawn, and on the other a different world. Weird yellow trees, orange grass, and a purple sky. An artist would say that it clashes. Like when Mommy doesn’t like how you pick your clothes.

Anyway, there were buildings in the world beyond the hedgerow. Old buildings. Remember the pictures I showed you of our trip to Greece? They were buildings like that. We asked the Guardian about them.

“These are from before the Reaper. Long ago we built things like this, tall and graceful and lovely and adorned. Then came the battles. Now there’s time only to build simple, sturdy buildings. One day, after we kill the Reaper and all its progeny, we’ll again build grandly.”

Yeah, it was sad that they didn’t make fancy buildings anymore. That might have been part of what we were fighting for. To make the Guardian’s people safe enough to build fancy buildings again so we could see them.

He urged us on, but Sarah was staring at the ruined building. “Wait. If this was a computer game or a story or something there’d be something important in the building. It wouldn’t be there otherwise.”

I pointed out, very reasonably, that it was not a computer game or a story. Sarah just shrugged. We all played lots of games,but she was always the best at them. The one who told the rest of us to move the rug in the living room to find the hidden trapdoor, or tell the cyclops the name of an ancient Greek hero to scare it away. I guess that part came from reading stories.

“So what? If we don’t learn anything from them, then playing all those games is a just a waste of time anyway. I don’t want them to be a waste of time.  Let’s look inside.”

The Guardian didn’t seem to like it, but we went inside. The room smelled like a basement, all wet earth and mildew and forgotten memories. Sarah and Billy started hunting through broken stone shelves and decaying wood while the Guardian stood at the doorway, half-outside with a sometimes backward glance at us. “It is dangerous to stay here. The Reaper sometimes comes to these old, fallen places. We should go.”

I hung stood between. I wanted to help search, but I trusted the Guardian. He knew this world better than we did. I was just about to tell my friends that we should leave when Sarah shouted in triumph.

She’d found the book. Later, we’d work together to solve the riddle.

#

We came back again and again to the world beyond the hedgerow. The twisted yellow trees with their faint licorice smell seemed almost normal after a while, as did the purple sky. We'd followed hints and riddles in the White Grimoire for months, seeking out the crystal shard, the golden hammer, hidden paths to the parts of the world where the Reaper lived. Billy and I always found the treasures, weapons and secrets, and were always home before supper.

As long as kids are home in time for supper, everything is fine. We were having a grand adventure. We were saving the world.

Yes, it’s still important to to be home for dinner. You can’t save the world on an empty stomach!

Anyway, the Guardian helped us trap the last Reaper in a squalid hut, smelling of week-old eggs and alien dirt. It was an ugly thing, all tentacles and slime and joints that bent the wrong way. It was ugly as the Guardian was beautiful.

It was cornered and weak and we had the weapons and the answers to the riddles. We’d been brave and strong and smart.

We knew how to rid the world of it.

Forever.

#

The story of the world beyond the hedgerow? No, last night wasn’t the end. Yes, the Reaper was beaten, and we never saw the Guardian again. Sarah went back once more, without me and without Billy. We didn’t see her until later. Her clothes were torn, her skin and hair caked with old dust. Dirt-stained fingernails clutched a book. Not shining and magnificent like the White Grimoire. This was a plain book, a dirty battered chewed up thing smelling of mildew and neglect. The half-torn cover revealed handwritten pages.

Her eyelids were red and swollen and her voice hoarse. “I can’t go back again. I think the guardian saw me.”

We looked at her and at the book, not sure how to answer. Billy finally asked what it was.

“The Reaper’s diary. I’ve been reading it all day. He... well, here’s a part near the end. Listen.”

She read. “The magic of the way-shrines holds, but not for long. The dogmen found someone from across the barrier to start breaking them. If many more fall, there will be no protection, no sanctuary. The rest of the dogmen will come, finish looting the ruins of the topless towers, and fill the world with ugly, squat bunkers.

I fear not for myself; old magics still protect me from the dogmen. I fear for our world, but I will be brave and smart and wise and fight on. For the future.”

Sarah looked up from the book. “I think.. we might have done the wrong thing.”

We tried to go back again and see. See what? What we’d really done, I guess. And maybe what we could do to fix it. If it needed fixing.

It didn’t matter. The hedgerow, when we got back to it, just lead us to the neighbor’s backyard. Whatever door we’d snuck through to the other world was sealed forever.

We never really talked about it again, but I think we all learned something about ourselves.

We were brave. We were strong. We were smart.

We were not wise.

Hardware is Dead! Long Live Hardware! - in defense of the appliance, and a look ahead at software solutions.

Last week Ryan Pinke joined a new tradition in proclaiming the video conference Codec dead. In my own look ahead I posited a potential future free of boxes, in which software solutions largely replace dedicated appliances. Is Pinke right on this one? Have we reached, or are we nearing the end of hardware? I don't think that we are, and still predict a variety of appliances having use in the foreseeable future.

What do you mean "Appliance"?

No. Not that kind of
appliance

A quick word for those not up on the lingo - an "appliance" is a device dedicated to a single task. An AV control processor is an appliance. A VTC Codec is an appliance. A DSP (Digital Signal Processor for audio mixing and processing) is an appliance. etc.

The alternative to an appliance is a general-use computer utilizing software for varying tasks. Instead of a dedicated VTC Codec from Cisco or Polycom, for example, one can run a desktop conferencing program. A computer is more functional, multi-use, and can be easily upgraded and reconfigured as required tasks and available software standards change. A computer as opposed to an appliance seems like a very appealing choice.

So Why Is Hardware Still Alive?

I was pondering this question while running errands. If a general-use PC gives you flexibility and lower cost, what does the appliance give you?  For one obvious answer, see this photo I snapped  as I passed the Cartier store on Fifth Avenue, here in New York.

Something there is that doesn't love a wall. That something
is a data backup reminder dialog box.

See that lovely video wall with the loop of their running jaguar logo? Do you see what's in the upper-left corner of the image? That's right, it's an ugly, utilitarian "Back Up Your Data" dialog which those running the thing probably don't even know about. That's part of the challenge in using PCs; they require attention and maintenance. They want to run virus scans. OS updates. Data backups. PCs don't do these things constantly, but often enough that the threat of an interruption or reboot or dialog pop-up is worth considering for uses which are sensitive, mission-critical, or just embarrassing.

The second issue is control. It's easy to control an appliance through a third-party control system creating, in the best scenarios, a  seamless interface for an entire AV system. One can even create a single "speed-dial" button to switch inputs to the videoconference Codec, adjust the camera to its proper preset, and initiate a call to a specific endpoint. With a PC-based system, this is a more challenging proposition. Depending on the specifics of the control system and PC set up it might not even be possible.

What can we do with PCs?

The flip side of all of this is that, in many ways, the lower-cost lower-capability hardware options  are less appealing and may end up being the real users. For mission-critical or very high-profile spaces, a high-end hardware appliance is quite appropriate. For the smaller space in which you don't need the capability and reliability you'd possibly be as well off with a PC-based system as with a lower-end Codec. In my look ahead, one thing I posited was the possibility of going the other way: not worrying about integrating a PC with a larger system, but creating a PC-based room with no appliances. Is this possible today? Quite likely. (Please note that usual disclaimers apply: none of the below is an endorsement of any specific products, products are mentioned as examples only. In other words, don't use these just because I mention them). That said, consider:

Content Sharing: Mersive Solstice, software-based video sharing. Run it on the PC or server and use Wifi to share content.

Video Conferencing: Lync, Jabber, Skype, or your favorite software Codec.

Video Conference Camera: Any webcamera would suffice, but if we're looking at high-end conferencing one of Vaddio's USB cameras (either PTZ or fixed) should give a nice image.

Video Conference Audio: If we want wireless mics, we will need one box as a receiver. The Shure ULX-D has native Dante connectivity, which will come in handy. Alternatively, we could put hardwired mics at a table. Then use a Dante break-in box. Then use Dante virtual soundcard software to bring the audio into the Codec.

Interconnectivity with other spaces: h.264 streaming. 

Device Control: IF we want to stick with no boxes, then HRS Control's UDC software, running either on the local PC or a centrally located server. An iOS, Android, or Windows device can then be used as a control interface. 

Audio Output: You'll still need an amplifier. If it network-enabled the aforementioned Dante can be used for audio transport, freeing one of the need to colocate amplifier and PC. 

Is this a solution I'd use today? Some of it might be. What makes it important - and what makes it interesting - is that it is shows how far we can break from traditional design in which everything is a box. 

My final thought? The appliance isn't dead or even, perhaps dying. It IS losing its place of dominance in the market as other options become available. Will hardware ever truly die? That I doubt. What I do agree with is that it's no longer the only choice.

Back to Narnia - Musing on Fantasy Literature and Reading Lessons

One of the nice presents our family was lucky enough to receive this winter holiday season was from an old school friend of my lovely bride's: a nicely illustrated box set of the seven Chronicles of Narnia books as an early-arriving but late-delivered (we thought it was for Christmas) birthday gift for Chloe.  At just seven years old, we feared that these might be a bit tough for her. Then again, yesterday when I told her she was getting the ante-penultimate brownie she pondered a half second before answering "so there are two left." Vocabulary is clearly not an issue, and the girl loves reading at least as much as I did at that age. The Narnia books themselves are a very, very hazy memory for me, but the wondrous, open-ended anything-can-happen feeling in a great fantasy novel is not. It's something that, beneath the writerly analysis and tendency to overthink, I still feel today.  Still, these are books targeted perhaps a touch older than she is, so I thought it would be nice for her to have a guide. With this in mind I told her that I'd like to read along with her, picking up the book when she sets it down to catch up (and only to catch up - she didn't want me cheating and reading ahead!) so we can talk about the characters and what happened. Now, through the wonders of technology, you have the chance to read along with us for my musings on both the books and the process of reading them with a young child.

We started before the beginning, with The Magician's Nephew, mostly because the set we have numbers it first. This doesn't strike me as a bad place to start; it introduces Narnia at the very beginning (literally the beginning - we see its creation as a new world) and learn the origin of familiar objects and settings, such as the lamppost in the woods and the famous gateway in the back of a wardrobe.

What's this Book About? A refresher

For those interested in the plot (and who either don't know it or have forgotten it), two young London children named Digory and Polly are sent out of this world and into another by Digory's narcissistic and cruel Uncle Andrew - the titular magician.   Through the use of magic rings crafted from Atlantean dust they travel first to Wood Between Worlds, in which clear pools of water serve as portals to our world and others. From there their explorations take them to the dead world of Charn, in which Digory recklessly and impetuously awakens the evil Queen Jadis, providing an antagonist for the remainder of the series. She'd put herself into an enchanted sleep after - in a clear allegory of nuclear war - she'd killed every single living thing in her world through the magic of the Deplorable Word.

The famous Narnia lampost.
Image by Ej.culley

Jadis's follows the children to London, where here magic doesn't work but her supernatural strength makes her something of a menace. Through use of the magic rings, they manage to bring the evil witch through the Wood between Worlds and, eventually, to the new world of Narnia, as of yet still unformed. A Lonon cabby and his horse also make the trip.

In Narnia we meet the lion-god Aslan, who literally sings the world into existence. In atonement for bringing the evil witch into the newly formed world, Aslan sends Digory along with the carriage horse - now winged through Aslan's magic - to a hidden garden near the edge of the world for a magic apple of all things. It would not only keep the witch at bay for a time, but is quite healthy and loaded with a great deal of delicious symbolism. Digory takes the trip with Polly and the horse, resists the witch's temptation to eat the apple himself or take it back to London to cure his ailing mother, and is rewarded by Aslan with another magic apple so he can cure his mother after all. A final chapter details Digory's move away from London and the creation of the famous wardrobe we'll see in the next book.

Reading as a Writer and Parent

Teaching children to read is so much more than teaching them to read the words which, as I said above, isn't much of an issue now. In some ways this is a very nice introduction to "real" fantasy literature because it is so simple;  the witch is evil. Uncle Andrew is also evil, but not so much as the witch. Giving in to the temptation to keep the magic apple is wrong because it would be a betrayal of the trust Aslan had given Digory - and because it would be wrong for him to save  his mother with an act counter to the values he taught her. This correct act is rightly rewarded. Digory is the closest to a complicated character we get; he's basically good, but badly wounded by family troubles and dreadfully impulsive. There was a moment of violence between him and Polly - just one moment, but an unmistakable crossing of a line - which prevents us from seeing him as just a hero. 

The more interesting thing reading this as an adult is how apparent the work's flaws are. The quest to get the magic apple was all too easy, with no obstacles of which to speak. Aslan is a being of pure good, and Jadis a being of pure evil. In addition to the idea that a powerful woman is a villain and also a temptress, she's somewhat of a boring villain, with no motivation or real personality aside from a desire for power. She's more a force of nature than a person. Compare, say, Queen Mallow in Cat Valente's The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Boat of Her Own Making. Mallow was quite the villain and did a fair measure of harm to the denizens of Fairyland, but once we meet her we see that she had her own personal reasons for doing so. In the end, she was more to be pitied than hated.

Speaking of the apple, I'm not sure how I feel about that element. On one hand, the adult writer in me finds it painfully heavy-handed in its symbolism. As we are a non-religious household, it's symbolism that sailed right past our young reader's head to little effect, so no harm and no foul on that. What almost bothered me more is the forced "happy ending". Digory made the right choice in resisting the temptation to steal the apple to cure his mother. As a reward he gets... a magic apple to cure his mother. This is almost exactly the same complaint I had at the end of Disney's Tangled - the sacrifice is rendered meaningless by granting the reward anyway. 

That's not to say that the writing, although perhaps a bit old fashioned - lacks charm. Take, for example, this passage in which the two children arrive in the dying world of Charn:

"It's very funny weather here," said Digory. "I wonder if we've arrived just in time for a thunderstorm; or an eclipse.""I don't like it," said Polly.

Both of them, without quite knowing why, were talking in whispers. And though there was no reason why they should still go on holding hands after their jump, they didn't let go.

I especially like the bit about the two of them holding hands and called it out as an example of "showing, not telling". They're nervous. How do you know that they're nervous and a bit scared? Not because they say so, but because they don't let go of each other.

Reading as Readers

All of the object lessons about literature, about reading, and about writing aside, one of the very best things about this process has been sharing the pure pleasure of fantasy literature. The journey from Uncle Andrew's study through the Woods Between Worlds and eventually to Narnia evokes the open-ended feeling of limitless possibility which attracted me to fantasy in the first place. If one looks past the symbolism, characters, authorial decisions, one is left with not just a story, but a fantastic story. A story in which it feels as if anything can happen, and we're along for the pure joy of exploration. 

It's easy for us grown-ups to forget that sometimes. If understanding of the bigger picture is my gift to my children, a view through young and innocent eyes is their gift to me.

A Pixel and Ink Stained Year in Review

IT's the end of the year as we know it. This year in review and its companion peek into my pixel and ink-stained crystal ball at the year coming up will be largely "pixel" posts in that I'll talk about commercial AV. Perhaps one or two literary mentions to round things out. And more on the Year-to-Come post later. This is a very quick highlight of just a few AV trends from the past year. There is, of course, more. There's always more. For now, in no particular reason are some thoughts that stuck in my mind from 2013. 

My look forward at 2014 will come as part of the SMW team on our ExpresShen's blog. You'll still see me here, but I'll also be spending some time there along with some of my very bright and talented colleagues, not only in the AV discipline but our data, security, medical planning, and acoustics disciplines as well. That should be an exciting part of the new year and something in which I am greatly looking forward to participating.

2013 was the year....

....that the HDBaseT "standard" hit a saturation point and stopped being interesting. 

Crestron, AMX, Extron, Kramer, Aurora, Purelink, Lightware, Muxlabs, and probably a half dozen others I'm not thinking of at the moment all have what is, for all intents and purposes, the same digital videl ecosystem: modular card-frame based switcher, smallish form-factor standalone transmitter/receiver units, 2-gang wall plate transmitters, etc. Some added an array of input and output formats (3G-SDI, VGA and other analog formats, etc), most have single- and multi-mode fiber options, and if you squint just a bit it's hard to tell which one you're looking at. I kinda flew through the "HDBaseT Pavillion" at Infocomm without too much catching my eye. 

This is part of the reason I'll not post on "switcher wars" anymore; so many of the decisions are so project-specific that it's almost impossible to compare various manufacturers in a vacuum. Do you need SDI outputs to feed a production switcher or capture appliance? Multi-format inputs for a variety of legacy devices? SDI inputs for broadcast cameras? A smaller form-factor and lower heat load because you're stuffing it into a credenza? Does it need to fit with some existing asset management infrastructure? Projects aren't one-size fits all, and we've gotten to the point at which we look at subtle details rather than "this one is good. That one is bad." 

....but some manufacturers have found ways to step out of the box

I'll list two that surprised me a bit. One is the Altinex Muse, technically not quite HDBaseT, but similar technology and interesting nonetheless. Their innovation (shown off in a pretty popular booth at Infocomm) is 150W of AC power right at the receiver. This means that you can plug in a smallish flatpanel with nothing but a single Cat5e or Cat6 cable and without an electrician. Highly groovy and a bit surprising.

Another one that caught my eye is Aurora Multimedia's L2 series of receivers. These have a tiny webserver and control processor built into them. This is terrific for very small, one- or two-input rooms with fairly simple control needs. It lets you run the space with a single-gang decora-style keypad *and* monitor it via your favorite building-management solution. I'd rather have a more robust control system for more complex spaces, but this is a thoughtful solution which certainly has its place.

....Dante took the lead in the digital transport battle

No. Not that Dante.

Audinate's Dante and the AVNu Alliance's AVB are the two available choices to replace the aging Cobranet protocol. 2012 saw Audinate introduce Ultimo, a smaller chipset capable of handling two inputs and two outputs. 2013 saw manufacturers such as Atterotech and Stewart Audio release an array of small form-factor amplifiers and breakout boxes, including wall-plates. A virtual sound card is available to bring multiple channels of audio into and out of a PC (for processing, recording, streaming, or any other purpose one can think of), digital mixing consoles have accepted Dante as one of several standards they support, an a variety of DSPs are now using Dante for audio connectivity.

The real surprise for the year  - and the reason I see Dante as taking the lead - is that Audinate announced that once AVB is ratified as a standard it would be possible for Dante-based hardware to become fully AVB compatible. The folk at Audinate tell me that this would be either/or; one could run the hardware as a Dante system using any layer three switch or as part of an AVB network using the added features in AVB-compliant switches. This adds, at the very least, a future-proofing security blanket.

...but not everybody gave up on Cobranet

A speaker with Cobranet
Amplifier built in!

I thought this would finally be the year we stop talking about Cobranet, but that seems to not be the case. Soundtube opened the year with the introduction of IP-addressable speakers using the venerable Cobranet protocol. Their stated reasons for sticking with this over Dante are that the Cobranet chip is small enough to fit into the speaker back-can along with an amplifer.  They also contend that, for many applications, the latency and channel counts available from Cobranet is more than sufficient. I have my usual level of skepticism, and am concerned about the extra layer of complexity conversion to Cobranet will add in systems which are primarily Dante or AVB. That said, there is a somewhat compelling point and it does seem an interesting solution for certain applications.

...we learned to think small

2013 saw quite a few collaborative solutions for small "huddle" type spaces, from Barco's smaller (and cheaper!) clickshare to Vaddio's Groupstation and wired pushbutton collaborative interfaces from FSR, Extron, and others. This fits not only with different ways in which people are working, but also with the growing prevalence of software-based communications tools as either a supplement to or sometimes a replacement for appliance-based enterprise videoconference systems. Many of us have some combination of Skype, Google Chat, or Apple Facetime either at home or on a personal device. Some of use  Microsoft Lync, Cisco's WebEx or similar on our desktop machines. We become familiar with these technologies, comfortable with them, and look for ways to expand them to use in room systems. Sometimes this sacrifices quality, but especially for small spaces can give a measure of functionality at a fraction of the price of hardwares solutions.

...The blackbirds roosted in the pomegranate tree

What? I'm sure you were expecting something on streaming (another post) or 4K (another other post!) or the like. Instead, I'll close with a literary note. Almost two-decades ago, American writer Mary Ellen Sanger spent six weeks in a Mexican prison. I met her years later at the home of New York-based author Talia Carner as part of a writers' critique group. This year, she finally published a book telling the stories of her time in prison and the women she met there. There are beautifully written, poetic tales. If you're looking for something thoughtful, interesting, and different to read this holiday season, feel free to pick up a copy in dead-tree or Kindle format. Enjoy!

That's the year past. Stay tuned for the year to come, nestled sometime between Christmas and New Years.

Happy Holidays!

  

Fan Fiction, Culture, Matchsticks

There's been a bit of a kerfuffle recently about the producers of the BBC television series Sherlock having their actors read aloud from someone's erotic Sherlock-inspired fan-fiction at an official event for the upcoming launch of the fourth season. I'll not go into all of the details here, but the short version is that it is universally (and accurately) seen as an attempt to mock the fan-fiction writer and, as such, in bad form. The actors were uncomfortable, someone who loved the characters enough to write about them in her spare time was humiliated, and the hosts of the event now have egg on their collective faces. It's a lose-lose-lose. If one positive thing can come of it, that would be a discussion on the fading boundaries between fan-fiction and commercial fiction, between professional and amateur, and our overall cultural heritage.  There is a larger issue here than fan fiction. It's the question of who owns these characters and ideas themselves. We know who does legally, but I'm not sure who does morally.

Not this kind of fan fiction

What's most ironic about this incident, and what writer Mary Robinette Kowal pointed out in her take on the topic, is that the BBC series itself is, arguably as much "fan fiction" as the slash pieces they found it so very amusing to mock. Yes, I know that there's a legal lineage running back to the heirs of the Doyle estate, but that doesn't much interest me. Sherlock Holmes is, at present, a part of our culture as are Achilles, Superman and, most importantly, Mickey Mouse.

Why is Disney's famous rodent so important? Because he's arguably the one keeping the cultural commons from growing - at least in a legal perspective. One of the arguments presented to Congress in discussions on extending copyright protections first for fifty, and now for seventy-five years past the creator's death was the specter of commercial Mickey Mouse pornography. In reality, the fight was less about protecting the innocence of a fictitious rodent than it was about giving the corporation which now owns Walt Disney's work a perpetual cash-cow. It keeps the Mouse as the sole property of a corporation. Superman the property of the corporation which stole him from his original creator, and now the larger media conglomerate that owns them.  We, as a culture, are poorer for it. It wasn't always this way. I'm not an expert in ancient Greek intellectual property law, but I don't believe that Sophocles needed the permission of the Homer estate to write Ajax. (if anyone knows that he did, please correct me. I'd find that fascinating!)

As part of our heritage, these characters and ideas matter. It's a way of carrying on a conversation with the literature and culture which has come before us while speaking to the present generation. I mentioned Ajax in a snarky aside, but it was a then-modern take on  traditional Homeric values. Bringing Sherlock to the modern era might not be as artistically interesting, but it's very enjoyable and lets us reexamine some of the cultural assumptions from Arthur Conan Doyle's time.

It wasn't even a full
8-bits of greyscale

It isn't what I usually write myself, but I find some derivative work to be fascinating. Russian writer Kirill Yeskov wrote a fascinating (if somewhat awkwardly translated) retelling of The Lord of the Rings from the villain's perspective, casting Gandalf as a manipulative warmonger who was the real mover behind the concepts we see in Tolkein's books. Novelist Jacqueline Carey took a more commercially viable route and played the same reversal trick but with the serial numbers filed off in her The Sundering duology. This is the path that one needs to take if one wants to be commercial and doesn't own the rights. Sometimes it works; the TV medical drama House was arguably a Sherlock Holmes retelling, and someone famously turned some erotic Twilight fanfiction into an inexplicably popular treatise on grayscale (at least that's what I assume from the title. I'll confess to having never read the work in question).

I'll close with a bit of fiction; in her piece,  Kowal  stated that she'd welcome fan-stories in her Glamourist Histories universe. In that spirit, I've brought a fairy-tale character into her world, retelling a classic. For those not initiated, the Glamourist histories are regency-era romance novels with the addition of a bit of magic - the ability for some people to create illusions or "glamours". Some can even manipulate hear and cold, although at personal cost to their health.

Enjoy!

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Three Matches

by L Czhorat Suskin

Cold it was, so terribly cold in London, this long night late in the year without a summer. Cold infused the streets, cold slipped through thresholds of the coldmonger's guildhall in ironic discomfort but, most of all, cold soaked into the young lad's skin, muscle, into the very marrow of his bones. He was a coldmonger, a lucky one to have found work freezing an indoor skating rink and, at  nearly fourteen years, an old one. Today he felt old. He felt his nearly fourteen years the way an older man would feel the weight of decades, his body weakened by years of working the cold. Still, he had a roof in the guildhall and, thanks to this last job, a few coins in his pocket.

And He still had his dreams.

It was, after all, the year without a summer. The year Lord Vincent, glamourist to the Prince Regent himself visited London, reminder of all that the boy had dreampt of. Working glamour as art, delighting people with works of color and shapes rather than pure mechanical manipulation of heat and cold. He'd been practicing too, as much as he could with the strength he had remaining after the hours of drawing cold from the ether. Tonight's work had been particularly arduous; the guild's more educated benefactors explained why working cold is harder on a cold day, but that was all just words. The boy's reality was that it was cold.

It was on this cold night that he saw her. The matchstick girl. Younger even than he, walking on tiny naked feet blue with cold. The boy longed to be an artist; he saw the soot smeared around her eyes, not quite hiding deep purple bruises. From across the street he saw her shiver with her whole body. Saw her stop, desperately, pitifully cupping her hands around a match, trembling hands fumbling to strike it. He saw and, without thinking, reached into the ether, flicked a strand across the match and touched it to flame. 

The faintest hint of a smile touched the girls lips. Oh, how the boy pitied one who could be cheered by something so small. He struggled against the exhaustion in his own weakened body, pulled against strands of ether to paint within the flame a pleasant domestic scene. A warm fireplace, a table laden with food. Peace. The glamoured flames burned brightly, illuminating genuine joy in the girl's face, only to be extinguished as the candleflame bit her finger and went out.

She lit a second match. The glamourist boy was ready now, this time with a festive holiday scene. A magnificent Christmas tree festooned with glass ornaments, gaily wrapped presents beneath, and an angelic figure atop. The little girl reached her fingers into the image as the boy sank to his knees, overtaxed by the effort of maintaining the illusion.

Tears on her face, the girl lit a third match. She no longer felt the chill creeping into her bones, her poor frozen feet, no longer felt much of anything at all. She longed for the flame. For the next vision. The boy saw her from across the street, his vision fading and narrowing. Gone were the streets, the few people who'd take no notice of such wretched creatures as himself and the match-girl. The snow, the buildings... all faded. There was just him and, across the street, the girl. And her final match.

In the flame he painted a picture of the angelic figure from atop the holiday tree. Tears blurred his vision as he imbued the figure with as realistic color, as much art, as was in him. As the boy lost conciousness, the image unravelled, leaving a haze of pure light, then nothing. A smile touched his lips as the young girl whispered, "take me... take me with you."

Their bodies were found late the next morning, cold and lifeless. They were buried in a mass grave, nobody knowing that the girl had found a moment of peace and the boy had died an artist, as he'd wished to have lived.

Holiday Musings on Cooperation and Collaboration in the AV industry

It's non sectarian holiday time in the city. Last night was one of the New York AV community's traditions: the Sapphire Marketing holiday party at the Crestron showroom in midtown Manhattan. In what may or may not become a bee annual party of the transition, George Tucker and Chris Neto broadcast an AV related chat and discussion live from the party. Those who missed it live can feel free to catch the archive here. In addition to the fun and unsurprising revelations as to who cost Redband their TV-G rating and who brought their own booze to the party (no, I won't say here; you'll be missing the experience I'd your don't watch!) an observation Chris Neto made highlighted an interesting thought about the nature of our industry in this age of social media. That thought wad simply this: while he and I are technically competitors, we'd not only made little attempt to kill either but were actively exchanging information. There are fewer secrets than there might once have been in the industry. This is a good thing.

Live webcast at the party.
(Image from the Crestron Facebook page)

We've all met the technician, designer, our engineers who hoard knowledge, as if in fear that if someone else knows what they know it will diminish their value. This, to me, is one of the most toxic kinds of attitude I see in any tech industry. It's obvious that if we're hiding from our co-workers we're weakening our overall team by not letting all members be as efficient and effective as we can be. What about hiding things from competitors? Wouldn't my team at SMW be better off had I thought to poison some of the drinks we shared with our competitors rather than chat with them about technology? As temptingly simple an idea as that may be, it's overall a poor idea.

First of all, poisoning just one colleague's drink makes it much harder to end up on the guest list for future parties. More seriously is a point George Tucker made (and I elaborated on) - we're maturing as an industry. When one looks to build a house, one doesn't look for an architect with secret knowledge of steel or a mason with special, proprietary cement. One expects everyone to know the same basics of how a building is constructed and to apply that knowledge to fit your needs. It's about the process, the planning, and understanding the big picture much more than about the technical capabilities of one piece of hardware or another. As I said to Tucker, my value added isn't in my ability to memorize spec sheets.

Sharing holiday cheer at the party, in a spirit of openness.
A consultant, a vendor, a programmer, and
George (a category unto himself)
(Image from the Crestron Facebook page)

The other reason for openness is that we have reached a point in the industry at which we're seeing changes in quite a few basic assumptions about what constitutes an AV system. The basic changes should be familiar to those who've read this blog or followed the industry as a whole: the "bring your own device" trend, the rise of streaming solutions, the increase in small "huddle" type rooms as opposed to larger formal meeting rooms, and increase in availability of wireless transport, increases in software conferencing as opposed to dedicated hardware Codecs. As an industry, everyone involved looks smarter and more competent if we not only speak the same language but share an understanding of the challenges in this new environment. Not only to all of these raise too many questions for any of us to come up with the answer. Opening dialog creates an atmosphere in which we can all learn from eachother, and all become better at what we do.

I'll close with a bit of news in this vein- news that I alluded to in the Redband interview: starting in January the Shen, Milsom & Wilke blog is going to be re-launched with new content, including at least occaisonal posts from your favorite pixel-and-ink-stained wretch. Don't worry, I'll still maintain this space, but there'll be more engagement from us as a team, including posts from some very bright and talented people I'm lucky to have the chance to work with and learn from. 

Christmas Wars?

Warning (in case you didn't get it from the title) - this post contains religion. If you're bothered by back, tune in again next week when there's sure to be another AV post, or perhaps some flash fiction. Maybe both if you're lucky. I probably should know better, but this is still probably safer and less contentious than a "switcher wars" post.

Shots Fired at the Crossroads of the World

The catalyst for this post is the latest shot in the culture wars by the American Atheists organization. For those who've not heard, they put a billboard at Times Square, New York, asking who needs Christ in Christmas. Their answer: nobody! This, to me, goes a step beyond the "good without God" message the Freedom from Religion Foundation ran on a series of billboards and bus ads a few years back. The idea that someone can not believe in a god yet still lead a good and moral life is a positive one and, given the fact that atheists are consistently the least trusted group in America according to opinion polls, an important one for people to hear.  This is closer to American Athests' 2010 campaign "You know it's a myth". True to their belief, yes. Also needlessly contentious and, from a bigger picture, missing what the actual point should be.

From the Times Square billboard

At the risk of losing some of your trust in me, I'll reveal to those of you who don't know or haven't guessed by now that I myself am an atheist. While my fiction (both what I write and am most interested in reading) leans towards the fantastic, philosophically I'm pretty much a strict materialist. No spirit, no soul, no Cartesian duality. Before we're born we're nothing, and when we die we're gone, leaving behind only the effects we had on the world and people around us. Consider this critique as coming from an atheist, even if not a member of the atheist movement.

You know it's a Myth

I'll start with yesteryear's  "you know it's a myth"  message because that, to me, is a clearer illustration of where American Atheists go wrong and, for that matter, how they appear the same as the most fundamentalist of believers. Their position is that as religious claims can't be empirically proven, religion itself is useless and a waste of time. I'll answer them with a quote from the French philosopher (and atheist) Alain de Botton:

"The most boring and unproductive question one can ask of any religion is whether or not it is true – in terms of being handed down from heaven to the sound of trumpets and supernaturally governed by prophets and celestial beings."

Botton goes on to say that the interesting question  - the one which IS worth asking - is how a particular religious faith leads us to live, how it leads us to act, how it connects us to those around us. 

Back to the original question - is it a myth? If so, what does that mean? Too many of the Dawkins/Harris/Hitchens style atheists take "myth" "falsehood" and "lie" to mean the same thing; it isn't true, therefore a lie. A deception. As a writer of fiction and a lover of literature I know that to not be the case. That the events in Moby Dick didn't actually happen doesn't mean that there isn't literary "truth" as a story about, amongst other things, the idea of revenge. Likewise that various holy books contradict eachother doesn't mean that they don't share spiritual truths about how we can best live together. 

Looking at it this way, whether or not the Jesus story is a myth is immaterial as to how it leads Christians to live their lives. Some follow the moral teachings in the Bible while ignoring the supernatural parts (Thomas Jefferson famously edited everything supernatural or miraculous out of the New Testament. He was left with something shorter, but kept the moral messages intact), some take it more at face value, but most find positive messages about charity and love for ones fellow human. I'd not attack that, even if it weren't shockingly rude to do so.

Two sides of the same coin

Literalism at its finest. 

These attacks convey a literal-mindedness which strikes me as remarkably similar to that of religious fundamentalists. See the cartoon from mad-as-hatters young-earth creationists "Answers in Genesis". Pointing at an actual billboard in response to a request to "show me a sign" is a perfect metaphor for what is wrong with the thinking of those on both sides of this debate; it shows not only great certainty in ones own viewpoint but a lack of thoughtful reflection as to how opposing viewpoints can coexist harmoniously, and how those who believe differently can still live well. The atheist who sees the AIG billboard is likely to react the same way as the believer who sees American Atheists; with - at best - an eyeroll and a shrug. 

A Better Way?

The Freedom from Religion Foundation did a bit better in their reponse to the nativity in Madison, Wisconsin: they added a "secular nativity" featuring figures they admire. From their official statement (by FFRF co-president Annie Laurie Gaylor):  "FFRF’s baby is black and female, for egalitarianism, and to acknowledge that humankind was birthed in Africa. Our wisepeople depict atheists and scientific giants Charles Darwin and Albert Einstein, plus wisewoman Emma Goldman — with humorist Mark Twain and Founding father Thomas Jefferson thrown in for good measure. "

A Secular Nativity. Respectful, or a deliberate
attack? You decide.

Is copying the traditional iconography of the nativity scene a step too close to mockery? Perhaps it is, and I can see that argument. At least it attempts to join the discussion with a positive statement about the things the FFRF reveres. I'd rather they had done so in a less hostile manner, but I'll accept it as a baby step. I still think that, in terms of constructive dialog, they have a way to go.

I semi-recently reconnected through social media with an old friend who's belief has taken a turn towards fundamentalism and young-earth creationism. One lesson I've learned from interacting with her over the years is that, even if I'm certain that she is objectively wrong about some things, the actual age of the earth matters quite rarely in our daily lives. What does matter is that she's a kind-hearted person who loves her family and does her best to be a good mother to her children. If her religion is part of what inspires her towards that, who am I to argue?

What's the Point of All This?

What's my purpose here? What do I want for Christmas? I mean aside from the spiffy Abrasus triangle commuter bag from the Evernote market and a new winter dress coat and peace on earth and all that stuff. What I want is for all of us to listen to each other, and to celebrate our differences respectfully and lovingly. That's one reason I'm "outing" myself as a non-believer; just as not all Christians think that pre-historic humans hunted dinosaurs, not all atheists consider mocking others' belief systems to be a worthwhile sport. Perhaps this winter solstice/Christmas/Hannukah season we can all remember that we have to share this world, and we can look to those things that make us the same.

 Happy Holidays to all reading, no matter which you celebrate.