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The real problem is not whether machines think but whether men do”.

B. F. Skinner

Before I retired from The School back in the UK I persuaded one of my chaps there to build me a new computer for my studio. For those readers unfamiliar with such things, modern digital studios are based entirely on the computer, which not only handles all of the recording and editing tasks, but which can also (by means of samples and virtual instruments and processors and so forth) generate orchestras on demand… apparently out of thin air!

As the techniques required for such feats become more complex and sophisticated over time, so the processing power required to effect them increases. At the same time, any computer that has been in use solidly for a considerable period (more than a decade in the case of my studio machine) tends to become increasingly prone to failure – the which could result in the loss of precious and irreplaceable creations.

The long and the short of all this is that the time has finally come for me to replace my studio computer.

No big deal – you might think – but there are serious implications in so doing. My machine is used primarily for the creation of music – but also for my online teaching at the College. As indicated in my last posting Anam Danu is currently in the process of finalising a new album. The fall term – one of the two in which I teach – starts at the beginning of September. There is a relatively brief window in which to get everything working correctly.

Replacing a computer is not – in this case – a simple matter of buying a new device, plugging it in and firing it up. My musical pursuits require the use of a considerable number of musical applications, virtual instruments, sample libraries, software appliances and suchlike. All of these need to be installed on the new machine and all of the musical and other data that now virtually fill my old machine must be transferred to the new beast.

These are definitely non-trivial tasks and there are many potential pitfalls along the way which might cause important functions not to work correctly. These must all be patiently trouble-shot until everything is as it was before – but considerably faster and with storage capacity for much new creation over the coming decades.

You might get a sense from this brief discourse as to why I have repeatedly put off effecting this transfer over the past couple of years. I have – however – now reached the point of no return and all must be completed and tested in the shortest of orders if disaster is not to ensue.

Fingers firmly crossed!

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(The second in what I fear may become a less than occasional series…)

Whereas The Girl and I do have a TV component to our cable contract (the big fat broadband connection being our prime concern!) I think it is fair to say that the majority of the content that comprises our televisual viewing is in fact streamed across the InterWebNet. The exact ‘what’ and ‘where’ of that which we stream is immaterial and will thus – for the purposes of this anecdote – remain an enigma!

The TV that we acquired with our property is plenty big enough (in my book) and whilst it may not be equipped with all of the latest bells and whistles (and indeed may not run at the sort of resolution that seems de rigueur nowadays) does plenty well enough for an old Luddite like me. The Girl may well disagree (she does!) and I feel sure that – at some stage – a fancy new device will be purchased.

For now, though, streaming video to the TV screen requires the intervention of a separate box of tricks and we have – since our arrival in Canada – utilised for this purpose an old computer that one of the terribly smart techie chaps in my team at my last school kindly refurbished for me. This device was pretty long in the tooth even then and is a lot older now. As is the way of such things it eventually developed a fault – the which manifested itself in the display of random lines across the screen at vital moments. This grew steadily worse until the challenge became to spot what was actually going on on the TV behind a blizzard of random visual effects.

This was – naturally – causing some friction within this happy home so I contacted said tech wizard (the one who had put the system together) and – as is the way these days – he connected to my humble computer from the other side of the world and investigated it remotely. He gave me his diagnosis:

It’s f*cked!“, he told me.

Time to buy a new machine. Naturally it is now possible to replace the hulking tower that we had cobbled together with a tiny wee box about the size of a paperback novel, which will do everything and more at three times the speed. I ordered a prime example of same and sat back to await delivery.

Over to Canada Post…

Now – being keen to be able to follow the rugby again (and indeed to indulge in food ‘porn’) I carefully followed the online tracking most helpfully provided as part of the service. I was delighted to see my package on target to be delivered ahead of the advertised schedule. I watched it make its way across from the mainland in the middle of the night and saw it leave Victoria to head for Sidney before finally being delivered into our community mailbox.

I happily trotted up the road and unlocked our box.

Nothing!

Now – the way the community letter boxes work is as follows: each house has a letter sized locker and at the bottom of each stack there are a couple of larger lockers for parcels too big to fit in the normal one. If one receives a package it is placed in one of these larger lockers and the key thereto is posted into one’s normal locker. One retrieves the package and pops the key back into the posting box.

In this instance there were three possibilities: the package had not after all been delivered – or it was in the locker but no key had been posted – or it was in the locker and the key had been posted into the wrong mailbox! Naturally I called Canada Post and opened an enquiry. I also visited my local Canada Post office and pleaded with them and I repeatedly scanned the online tracking to see if anything further had been logged. All told me the same story. They would look into it but it might take three days or so to figure out what had happened.

Sure enough, three days later I had a phone call – from Canada Post. They assured me that the package was indeed in one of the bottom lockers (where it had been all along) and that a key had now been posted for me. All very well – I thought – but that means that a postman had visited the community box three days running and stood within inches of my sad, cold package and not done the decent thing and provided me with a key.

Now – how difficult would it have been to check this on the day that I reported it?

Hmmm!

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