Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Mumblebots, roll out.


Oh hi! I know, it's retarded how long it's been. Not Chunk from "Goonies" retarded, but definitely Corky from "Life Goes On" retarded, and that's plenty to warrant a semi-heartfelt apology. Forgive me. Please. I beg you. It's just I've gotten so lazy since we started podcasting. I'm even lazier than I was before. It's like I'm trapped inside an infinite loop of slack, and the only time I have to myself between work and screeching subway jaunts I spend looking at the back of my eyelids during marathon rounds of viking bear sleeps and getting taken to nerd school by 7 year old murder prodigies playing CoDMW2 online. After seeing how easy it is to record my jabbering and then watching as The Unbeatable Kid turns said jibber jabber into Ipod-ready, digi-bitified laser magic overnight, it's really hard to sit here with giant ape fingers and push normal finger-sized buttons at such a painfully slow pace. See, in real life I talk faster than most humans (Please download podcast #5 later this week for an example of this). But when I type, my normal pace screeches to a halt, and as a result when using a keyboard my words come out approximately every 3 to 5 minutes on average. I may be the least enlightened person I know, but if I typed the same way I spoke I'd sound like a foul mouthed stand-up comedian imitating a Zen master on his death bed. As stated earlier, this is mostly due to my gigantic Godzilla hands, but also has more than a lot to do with my lack of basic skills in grammar, punctuation, as well as spelling, not to mention my disregard for all forms of labor, big and small (including typing).

All this aside, It is nice to see my words again rather than having to hear my awful, awful voice. It's refreshing not to hear that painful droning I make when I open my face hole to communicate with others. Because when I read myself (rather than listening to myself) I can at least imagine my voice sounding better than the Harvey Fierstein Meth Chef thing I got going on in real life.

Can someone explain why the pitch of my voice is so high? In my head I sound like Roy Orbison or James Earl Jones. But on tape it's a different story all together. I need to stop smoking cigarettes. I sound like Joan Rivers on testosterone therapy. For serious. When I breathe I sound like a bagpipe getting thrown down the stairs. On more than one occasion I've been told I could do ADR for Mutley from Hanna-Barbera, or make extra money providing dubbing for the subjects of a non-English speaking documentary about Transsexuals. I know. That all sounds pretty cool. But the last time I checked, I'm a MAN. And you can call me old fashioned if you want, but I know what I want, and what that is is to sound like a MAN when I speak the King's English. Sorry to be a sexist. But it's the truth.

Remember back in olden times when I first wrote this blog I told you that I'd never lie to you? Forget all the lies I told you before, this time I mean it. Until I find a way to de-wimpify my voice I'll keep sounding like the shifty kid at Ritalin camp that hit puberty too early.

So that's that. Download the podcast. Unbeatable will send the laser links later in the week.

I guess that's all I have to say. In closing, here are three awesome things.




Love always,


No comments: