I prefer the radio, or, as they’d have it, AER. Its simplicity suits me, requiring none of the cyborgenic “upping” of the DFG Industries ganymedia. (O, I guess some people do require a pneuminjected “hot wire,” an upped antenna of what we used to call– forgive the fusty term– space-age alloys and polymers, a splinter of a thing, popped like a vaccination next to the ear and afterward glowing beneath the skin like a simple platinum tattoo. My reception, like most people’s, is just fine without the wire, though I’d do it in a New York minute if I lost the signals.)
Here, let me crawl out of the parenthetical long enough to say, that your VER almost always needs a rabbit-ear, as trendy kids call the pneuminjected 2mm wires, otherwise it’s all fuzzy and the virtuality tends to flatten into two dimensional video and stereo sound. (I like my VER this way, dream blurred and softened so to speak, but my radio I want clear AER, always have– even before the Walkman went wireless, long before the whole box disappeared.
Jesus, you can get old fast (even at 57) these days. Like a lot of folks who listen to AER I remember when those who thought they heard signals through their bodies were called crazy. Paranoids. Now babies learn ten natural and two machine languages through para-gnosis while they’re still suckling, transmitted in thin AER, as they say. Myself I always get bored and lose count before I can census the number of channels I can think in on a good day.
“A sound a synapse,” as they say. And now back to music on Radio Memory...