Belated News: NODE VOL 01 and Presenting at Radical Networks 2019

I was quite busy in 2019 and worked on two big things that were never shared here. Both were fairly large undertakings for me, and I figured it was good to make note of them here.

NODE VOL 01

I served as the editor for the premier issue of the NODE zine, a really cool publication to come out of NODE (which you may likely recognize from its video offering). Production of the first issue took many months, and while I had worked previously writing content for NODE, editing proved to be a new and different animal. That said, I also ended up writing a handful of articles for the issues, and am currently working towards production of a second! The zine is licensed under Creative Commons, and is available freely to download via the Dat network. A physical version was released but is currently sold out.

NODE VOL 01 is an 150 page zine for the NODE community. Volume 1 is packed with features on P2P projects, such as Dat, Beaker Browser, Ricochet IM, Aether, and more. There are many tutorials showing projects like the new NODE Mini Server, how to 3D print long range wifi antennas, how to chat via packet radio, and how to do things like Libreboot the Thinkpad X200. There’s also a handy open source directory at the back, along with lots more.

Radical Networks 2019 — BGP: The Internet’s Fragile Beast

In October of 2019, I had the pleasure of presenting at the Radical Networks conference in New York City. My talk was on Border Gateway Protocol, the sort of invisible glue that holds the Internet together. The talk is available for download in odp format as well as pdf!

BGP (Border Gateway Protocol) manages how all of our packets are routed across the Internet. It is one of the most powerful and important protocols currently deployed on the ‘net, but it is also incredibly fragile. Devised as a quick fix 30 years ago (without concern for security), BGP is constantly blamed in the news as Internet outages occur worldwide due to misconfigurations by multinational telecommunications conglomerates or hijackings by government actors.

This talk will demystify the misunderstood protocol that is BGP, and explain how entities exchange giant flows of data across the Internet, highlight past misuses, and consider what we may be able to expect in the future.

See you all in 2020!

 

Hallucinations For Accelerated Mutants — A Mondo 2000 Retrospective

This article was originally written for and published at Neon Dystopia on August 28th, 2017. It has been posted here for safe keeping.

It’s difficult to explain Mondo 2000 to someone who hasn’t experienced it before. That’s really what I would call it at the end of the day: an experience. Like a hallucinogenic trip, or a roller coaster ride, or that tingle that you get after a first kiss — it’s something you just don’t really get by having it described to you.

I first became aware of Mondo 2000, the glossy cyberculture magazine which ran from 1989 to 1998, in the much more recent year of 2012. Late to the party, I admit, but sometimes you just can’t get there on time. In 2012, I began to research hacking magazines as I was getting worried that some of them would soon disappear from the world without a trace. Somewhere out there sat old, possibly moldy magazines full of articles and stories that once appealed to the hacking subculture. Nobody was saving them, so I decided to start. I began patrolling. Amazon, eBay, and basic HTML sites that haven’t been updated since the early days of the web became my usual haunts. Between monitoring auctions and mailing old email addresses,  I was able to begin buying these publications. The ones I could find, I would wrap in archival-grade plastic and scan into my computer when I had the time; a slight pit stop before pushing them to the Internet Archive. Now, five years later, I agonize over the magazines that I haven’t even heard of yet. I learned a lot about the technological landscape of the ‘70s, ‘80s, and ‘90s, but I didn’t have anything really resonate with my until I came across Mondo 2000. Sitting right on the border between the then-bleeding-edge and the surrealistic not-so-distant future, Mondo fostered a generation of tuned-in misfits who were making their way through hyperculture. This could have been me in a different time, but all I can do now is read the back-issues while wearing a bootleg Mondo t-shirt. Looking back, it feels like some sort of technophilic fever dream for kids with psychedelics and a ‘net connection. Drugs, sex, and the digital revolution dripped from the warm, colorful pages. Would you want to wake up?

Mondo 2000 issue 15 cover.

For many, Mondo 2000 was seen as just the thing a sharp-tongued, budding cyberculture needed. Others saw it as pseudo-intellectual nonsense, fabricated garbage that didn’t really mean anything. To the Mondoids, the dedicated followers, it didn’t matter if the normies didn’t understand. Mondo 2000 was playful, eccentric, irreverent, and brash — it worked on its own terms and it worked well. Yet, Mondo 2000 did always have a built-in expiration date. With a name like that, it could never go on forever. After 14 issues, Mondo ceased publication. The print was dead, but the ideas would live on — the infection would keep spreading. While Mondo hit the scene at an interesting time in the advancement of technology, it has a much more ludicrous origin story. Author Jack Boulware once reported in a famous 1995 postmortem, “Mondo’s history reads as if fabricated on another planet, spewed forth by a sweaty cyberpunk novelist tripping on nasal-ingested DMT.”

He isn’t wrong.

The Edge Of A High Frontier

Mondo 2000 didn’t just pop up one morning out of nowhere. The roots of Mondo go all the way back to 1984. Ken Goffman published the first issue of High Frontiers, your source for “Psychedelics, Science, Human Potential, Irreverence & Modern Art,” in a small run of 1,500 copies. The first issue embraced mind expansion with interviews featuring Terrence Mckenna, Bruce Eisner, Timothy Leary, and even Albert Hoffman, the father of LSD. Goffman, an ex-yippie, former New York musician who had since moved to California, had already adopted his dadaist R . U. Sirius persona when he decided to embark on a publication that combined psychedelic exploration, science, and high technology. The premier issue, published in a newspaper format, featured his moniker on the cover alongside co-conspirator “Somerset MauMau.” The innards were packed with walls of text and tongue-in-cheek photographs that looked like cut-outs from Life magazine. The next issue would need to keep up the energy, and the fun.

R. U. Sirius.

Sirius’ life would change one night as he was distributing the first issue of High Frontiers at a birthday party: he would meet Alison Kennedy. Kennedy, the wife of a UC Berkeley professor and daughter of a wealthy California family, captivated Goffman. Soon, Kennedy would come to join the band of “Marin Mutants” (named for High Frontier’s Marin, California headquarters) that worked on the publication, sporting names like “Lord Nose” or “Amalgum X.” Meeting in a local pizza parlor with oddly-abysmal foot traffic, the High Frontiers staff would plot out their next articles. The second issue of High Frontiers, published a year after the first, would go on to include interviews with physicists, research on hallucinogens, and reviews of art and literature. By issue three, science and technology had become more of a main focus with articles on memory enhancement, psychoactive software, and quantum physics. Of course, drugs were still held in high regard with articles like “MDMA: Safe As Ice Cream,” and Kennedy’s own gonzo-anthropological “Tarantella And The Modern Day Rock Musician,” about hallucinogenic tarantula venom. Kennedy would soon go on to adopt a new persona of her own: Queen Mu, Domineditrix. After issue four of High Frontiers, Sirius and Mu would change the name of the magazine to Reality Hackers, which better represented the mix of articles on mind-expanding drugs and computer-based technology. As the magazine mutated, so did the staff. New additions included anarchist hacker Jude Milhon (who would become known as St. Jude) and the in-your-face Michael Synergy (real name unknown), a cyberpunk keen on toppling all of the powers that be.

High Frontiers issue 1. Read through all of the issues here!

With operations now moved to a large wooden house in the Berkeley Hills, Reality Hackers became a lightning rod for new, more diverse happenings of the psycho-technical fringe. There were articles on smart drugs, virtual reality, chaos theory, and isolation tanks, some featuring leading experts in these new and/or obscure fields.

Distributors, however, had no idea what to do with Reality Hackers and thought it was a magazine about literally hacking people to bits. Sirius would eventually be approached by Kevin Kelly of Whole Earth Review, the magazine spawning from Stewart Brand’s seminal Whole Earth Catalog, to work on a new digital culture magazine called Signal. Sirius ultimately declined in order to pursue a new mutation of Reality Hackers, honing-in on the young cyberpunk movement. Sirius and Mu would soon change the name of the magazine again to Mondo 2000 after publishing only two issues under the Reality Hackers name.

Reality Hackers. Issue numbering takes place where High Frontiers leaves off. Read all of the issues here!

At first, Mondo 2000 still resembled Reality Hackers between the cover art and black-and-white interior. After Bart Nagel was brought on as Mondo’s art director, things took a turn as he completely reworked the design of the magazine. Featuring colorful layouts, expert photography, full-page illustrations, and surreal covers, the new magazine was as stylish and beautiful as it was informative. New content went hand-in-hand with the new design; there were articles on cyberspace, computer viruses, and conspiracy theories. Authors that would grace the first issue include Bruce Sterling, William Gibson, and John Shirley, each notable for their work in the cyberpunk sub-genre. Gibson, an ex-hippie who had published the ground-breaking Neuromancer in 1984 (the same year the first issue of High Frontiers premiered), particularly resonated with the Mondo style. While Gibson would write about fictional high-tech outsiders who took smart drugs and jacked into cyberspace, the Mondoids were living it.

Mondo 2000 issue 6, featuring cover art by Bart Nagel. Read a selection of Mondo 2000 issues here!

Mondo 2000 embodied the cyberpunk subculture, and often served as the premier source for trends and news within the space. It wasn’t long before the rest of the world was trying to catch up. Sirius was starting to get quoted by mainstream sources like the Boston Globe or the Chicago Tribune who were dipping a toe into the bizarre cyberpunk waters for the first time. If John Shirley is known as being the “godfather of cyberpunk,” Sirius may have entered public eye as the crazy uncle. The Mondo 2000 house was regularly a who’s who of the eclectic Bay Area characters. Aside from Sirius, Queen Mu, St. Jude, and Synergy, regulars included contributors like subscriber-turned-music-editor Jas. Morgan, psychotropic-explorer Morgan Russell, and the drug-loving bankers Gracie and Zarkov.

Much of the content development for new Mondo articles stemmed from outrageous parties thrown at the Mondo house. It wasn’t uncommon for different rooms to be filled with active interviews, parlour games, or conversation between unlikely guests. A virtual reality expert might discuss politics with a smart drug theorist. Timothy Leary could discuss virtual sex with a computer hacker. Someone might suddenly get up to dance or go to the kitchen to try a 2CB analogue mixed with piracetem. As Mondo helped those on the fringe meet the like-minded, the culture only grew and evolved with each new issue. More and more reporters from publications like Newsweek or The New York Times were flocking to Mondo for a controversial opinion or unconventional view of the future. Before long, zine writers and editors like Gareth Branwyn and Mark Frauenfelder of bOING bOING, and Jon Lebkowsky and Paco Nathan of FringeWare Review started contributing to Mondo. Authors like Rudy Rucker, Robert Anton Wilson, and Douglas Rushkoff began submitting work as well. While the Mondo 2000 parties could only exist locally, articles came in from every corner of cyberspace or alternative plane of existence. Mondo had become a hub of interaction for those beneath the underground.

A Little ReWiring

As Mondo 2000 hit its stride, a new publication was just starting to take shape. Years earlier in 1987, Electric Word (originally launched as Language Technology) became a prominent linguistic technology and computer culture magazine in Amsterdam. White it generally focused on linguistic technology, and computer culture, Electric Word featured such pioneers as Xerox PARC’s Alan Kay, AI expert Marvin Minsky, MIT Media Lab founder Nicholas Negroponte, and even Mondo-regular Timothy Leary. After three years the magazine shuttered, leaving editor Louis Rossetto and ad sales director Jane Metcalfe without jobs. Partners in business as well as life, the pair decided to return to the United States and embark on a new magazine about cyberculture and technology. They wanted to call the publication “Millennium” to highlight the new technical revolution, but the name was already taken by a film magazine. John Plunkett, then the creative director, wanted to name it “Digit” (a play on “dig it” and “digital”).Eventually, they settled on Wired and started developing a prototype with a mission to decipher the new digital revolution.

Cover for Language Technology issue 3. Read select issues here!

When Rossetto and Metcalfe arrived in California after shopping the publication around New York, they were soon introduced to the Mondo 2000 team. Things appeared to be friendly enough, and Queen Mu would often visit Wired’s offices and engage Rossetto and Metcalfe in conversation while handing out fresh issues of Mondo. Just starting out, the Wired team did its best to differentiate itself from the madcap, already-successful Mondo 2000. Both the Wired and Mondo groups were well aware of what one another was up to, and there was care taken to not step on any toes. The Wired team didn’t want to compete or be compared, they wanted to come into their own.

Louis Rossetto and Jane Metcalfe, via wired.com.

Not all was well within Mondo 2000 at the time. As Mondo grew, celebrities were vying to get into the magazine in an attempt to appeal to a more underground audience. When The Edge, guitarist for rock band U2, wanted to be examined for an article, Sirius recruited his friends from the band Negativland to conduct the interview. Negativland, who U2’s management had recently sued for copyright infringement, was a logical choice for Sirius. During the interview, The Edge didn’t know who he was speaking with and mentioned his views on intellectual property. At that point, Sirius revealed the band and trapped The Edge in his own hypocrisy. This resulted in one of the most well-known Mondo 2000 articles, but at the time it was strongly opposed by editor Queen Mu. After she refused the piece, Sirius had reached a tipping point and left Mondo, stepping down from his position as editor-in-chief. While Queen Mu eventually relented and published the article, Sirius never returned to his previous position. While he did eventually come back as a contributor, he also divested his share of ownership in the magazine.

Photograph of the band Negativland.

Too Weird to Live, Too Rare to Die

Though Mondo 2000 may have still been holding on to its popularity, there were increasing struggles to draw in advertisers. Mondo’s strong drug-friendly stance didn’t mix well with button-up businesses that had money to spend on product promotion, and the magazine suffered because of it. There was less cash on the table when writers looked to Mondo as a potential place to submit their articles, and many opted to go with other publications. While some continued to contribute to Mondo out of passion, outfits like the new Wired could afford to pay more per word. Looking back, Mondo was never truly run as a business looking to make as much profit as it could. Instead, it resembled an art project assembled by a hodgepodge of culture jammers and social engineers.

Still riding high in 1992, Mondo published Mondo 2000: A User’s Guide to the New Edge, a book containing 317 pages of compiled articles and artwork from past issues with new content mixed in. In February of 1993, Time magazine featured a “Cyberpunk” cover story, complete with art from Bart Nagel and numerous mentions of Mondo 2000. Cyberpunk had gone mainstream with Time’s article reaching households all throughout the USA. Much like Ron Rosenbaum’s “Secrets of the Little Blue Box” article published in Esquire in 1971, the Time article inspired hordes of new people to invade a subversive subculture. While Mondo received a boost from the story, it might have been a little too much attention.

Time Magazine’s February 1993 issue. Read the story here!

When Wired’s first issue came out in March of 1993, it was largely dismissed by the Mondo crew. In the eyes of many, it watered down the content Mondo was known for and passed itself off as a sub-par imitator. At the end of the day, Wired was appealing to a largely different audience. They didn’t need the hardcore console cowboys or smart drug pioneers to like them, they could get by with weirdo weekend warriors and flirt with the “normal people.” Mondo may have been a bellwether for the digital revolution, but it was on the decline. Many thought it was circling the drain.

Wired Magazine issue 1, March 1993.

Mondo 2000 was able to survive for another five years under the leadership of Queen Mu and her assistant-turned-editor Wes Thomas, ending with issue 14 in 1998. It may not ever be known if Mondo finally closed down due to infighting, failure to rouse advertisers, dilution of cyberpunk culture, or some perfect storm of those factors. Its legacy and influence, however, cannot be questioned.

Mondo 3000

In 2010, R.U. Sirius announced “MONDO 2000: An Open Source History”, a multimedia-driven Kickstarter project that attempts to capture the history and lore of Mondo 2000 — and all of its previous incarnations. Between a web document, a printed book, and video footage (that may ultimately become a documentary), Sirius hopes to save all of the stories, viewpoints, and ephemera that made Mondo what it was. He is currently in contact with past contributors, and continues to work on the project. In line with Mondo 2000’s whimsical nature, Sirius created a project reward that allowed one backer to be written into Mondo 2000’s history. Some of the events surrounding Mondo may not have happened, but all of them are true.

While we may not see a new issue of Mondo 2000 ever again, Sirius is hard at work. Within the last month, he has re-established Mondo’s Twitter presence and created a brand new website at mondo2000.com featuring reprinted and expanded articles from Mondo’s past, as well as new content.

For those who remember it, Mondo 2000 is something equal parts special and weird. For many, it changed everything, and then it faded into the ether organically as the world changed around it. Browsing the new site, my mind starts to wander. Maybe there is a void left in the world that could only be filled by Mondo 2000 coming back. Maybe the world needs a “Mondo 3000.”

Somewhere out there, hackers and cyber-mystics are typing away furiously on computers in coffee shops and bus stations, creating new virtual worlds and building communities.

Maybe someone else has already created a Mondo 3000.

Maybe this time I’ll be around to catch it.


Keep your eyes bulged and your cybernetic implants on alert for a follow-up article featuring an interview with R.U. Sirius.

 

[UPDATE] [WANTED] Language Technology / Electric Word Magazine

A little while ago, I was contacted by a gentleman by the handle of jonur who saw my post and decided to upload some scans of Language Technology / Electric Word magazine that he has done.

This is truly awesome, and we now have seven issues to browse through currently! Though this is not the entire collection, it is an awesome start.

The issues are:

Language Technology Issue 3 (September/October 1987)
Language Technology Issue 6 (March/April 1988)
Language Technology Issue 9 (September/October 1988)
Electric Word Issue 13 (May/June 1989)
Electric Word Issue 15 (September/October 1989)
Electric Word Issue 16 (November/December 1989)
Electric Word Issue 20 (July/August 1990)

 

Archiving Radio

A few months ago, I got involved with my university’s radio station. It happened unexpectedly. I was out with some friends in the city and two of us made our way back to the school campus. My friend, a member of the station, had to run inside to check something out and ended up calling me in because there was some older gear that he wanted me to take a look at. I was walked past walls of posters and sticker-covered doors to the engineering closet. The small space was half the size of an average bedroom, but was packed to the brim with decades of electronics. Needless to say, I was instantly excited to be there and started digging through components and old part boxes. A few weeks later, after emailing back and forth with a few people, I became something of an adjunct member with a focus in engineering. This meant anything from fixing the doorbell to troubleshooting server issues, the modified light fixtures, the broken Ms. Pac-Man arcade machine, or a loose tone-arm on a turntable. There are tons of opportunities for something to do, all of which I have found enjoyment in so far.

Let’s take a step back. This radio station isn’t a new fixture by any means. I feel that when people think of college radio these days they imagine a mostly empty room with a sound board and a computer. Young DJ’s, come in, hook up their iPod, and go to work.

This station is a different animal. Being over 50 years old means a lot has come and gone in the way of popular culture as well as technology. When I first came in and saw the record library contained (at a rough estimate) over 40,000 vinyl records, I knew I was in the right place. I began to explore. I helped clean out the engineering room, looked through the production studio, and learned the basics of how the station operated. After a few weeks, I learned that the station aimed to put out a compilation on cassette tape for the holiday season. One of the first tasks would be to get some 50 station identifications off of a minidisc to use between songs. Up to the task, I brought in my portable player and with the help of a male/male 3.5mm stereo cable and another member’s laptop, got all the identifications recorded. While the station borrowed a cassette duplicator for the compilation, it would still take a long time to produce all the copies, so I brought in a few decks of my own and tested some of the older decks situated around the station. It was my first time doing any sort of mass duplication, but I quickly fell into a grove of copying, sound checking, head and roller cleaning, and packaging. If felt good contributing to the project knowing I had something of a skill with, and large supply of old hardware.

A little later, I took notice of several dust-coated reels in the station’s master control room containing old syndicated current-event shows from the ’80s and ’90s. I took these home to see if I could transfer them over to digital. I ran into some problems early one with getting my hardware to simply work. I have, at the time of writing, six reel-to-reel decks, all of which have some little quirk or issue except one off-brand model from Germany. I plugged it in, wired it to my computer via RCA to 3.5mm stereo cable, and hit record in Audacity. The end result was a recording in nice quality.

Stacks of incoming reels

Stacks of incoming reels.

I decided to go a little further and use this to start something of an archive for the radio station. I saved the files using PCM signed 16 bit WAV, and also encoded a 192kbps MP3 file for ease of use and then scanned the reel (or box it was in) for information on the recording, paying attention to any additional paper inserts. I scanned these in 600dpi TIFF files which I then compressed down to JPG (again, for ease of use). Any interesting info from the label or technical abnormalities were placed in the file names, along with as much relevant information I could find. I also made sure to stick this information in the correct places for the ID3 tags. Lastly, I threw these all into a directory on a server I rent so anyone with the address can access them. I also started asking for donations of recordings, of which I received a few, and put them up as well.

What's up next?

What’s up next?

After I transferred all the reels I could find (about 10), I went on the hunt for more. Now, until this point, I had broadcast quality 7-inch reels that ran at 7.5ips (inches per second) with a 1/4-inch tape width. A lot of higher quality recordings are done on 10.5-inch reels that run at 15ips, though sometimes 7-inch reels are used for 15ips recordings. Reel-to-reel tape can also be recorded at other speeds (such as 30ips or 3.75ips), but I haven’t come across any of these besides recordings I have made. Now, while my decks can fit 7-inch reels okay, they can’t handle any 10.5-inch reels without special adapters (called NAB hubs) to mount them on the spindles which I currently don’t have. Additionally, there are other tape widths such as 1/2-inch which I don’t have any equipment to play. The last problem I encounter is that I don’t have any machines that can run at 15ips.

Next up...

In progress.

Doing more exploratory work, I got my hands on several more 7-inch reels and also saw some 10.5-inch reels housing tape of various widths. Some of the 7-inch reels I found run at 15ips, and while I don’t have a machine that does this natively, I’ve found great success in recording at 7.5ips and speeding up the track by 100% so the resulting audio plays twice as fast. As for the larger reels, I may be able to find some newly-produced NAB hubs for cheap, but they come with usage complaints. While original hubs would be better to use, they come with a steep price tag. There is more here to consider than might be thought at first. Additionally, there is a reel-to-reel unit at the station that though unused for years is reported to work and be able to handle larger reels and higher speeds. However, it is also missing a hub and the one it has doesn’t seem to come close to fitting a 10.5-inch reel properly. At the moment, there doesn’t look to be anything I can use to play 1/2-inch width tape, but I’m always on the hunt for more hardware.

There are literally hundreds of reels at the station that haven’t been touched in years and need to be gone through, it’s a long process but it yields rewarding results. I’ve found strange ephemera: people messing with the recorder, old advertisements, and forgotten talk shows. I’ve also found rare recordings featuring interviews with bands as well as them performing. This is stuff that likely hasn’t seen any life beyond these reels tucked away in storage. So back to transferring I go, never knowing what I will find along the way

Digitizing in process

Digitizing.

From this transferring process I learned a lot. Old tape can be gummy and gunk up the deck’s heads (along with other components in the path). While it is recommended to “bake” (like you would a cake in an oven) tape that may be gummy, it can be difficult to determine when it is needed until you see the tape jamming in the machine. Baking a tape also requires that it is on a metal reel while most I have encountered are on plastic. Additionally, not all tape has been stored properly. While I’ve been lucky not to find anything too brittle, I’ve seen some tape separating in chunks from its backing or chewed up to the point that it doesn’t even look like tape anymore. More interesting can be some of the haphazard splices which may riddle a tape in more than one inopportune spot or be made with non-standard types of tape. I’ve also noticed imperfections in recording, whether that means the levels are far too low, there’s signs of a grounding loop, or the tape speed is changed midway through the recording. For some reels there is also a complete lack of documentation. I have no idea what I’m listening to.

I try to remedy these problems best I can. I clean my deck regularly: heads, rollers, and feed guides. I also do my best to document what I’ve recorded. I listen to see if I can determine what the audio is, determine the proper tape speed, figure out if the recording is half track (single direction, “Side A” only) or quarter track (both directions, “Side A + B”), and determine if the recording is in mono or stereo. Each tape that goes through me is labelled with said information and any information about defects in the recording that I couldn’t help mitigate.

After dealing with a bad splice that came undone, I’ve also gone ahead and purchased a tape splicer/trimmer to hopefully help out if this is to happen again. As for additional hardware, I’m always on the lookout for better equipment with more features or capabilities. I don’t know what I’ll ultimately get my hands on, but I know that anything I happen to obtain will lend a hand in this archiving adventure and help preserve some long-forgotten recordings.

After doing this enough times, I’ve started to nail down a workflow. I put all the tapes in a pile for intake, and choose one to transfer. I then feed it into the machine, hit record in Audacity, and hit play on the deck. After recording, I trim any lead-in silence, speed correct, and save my audio files. At this point, I also play the tape in the other direction to wind it back to its original reel and see if there are any other tracks on it. From here, I label my files, and go on to make scans of the reels or boxes before then loading these images into Photoshop for cropping and JPG exporting.

All done.

All done.

It is a lot of work, but I can easily crank out a few reels a day by setting one and going about with my normal activities, coming back periodically to check progress. I have many more reels to sift through, but I hope one day to get everything transferred over – or at least as much as I can. Along the way, I’ve come across other physical media to archive. There are zines, cassette tapes, and even 4-track carts that are also sitting away in a corner, being saved for a rainy day.

I’ll keep archiving and uncovering these long forgotten recordings. All I can hope for is that some time, somewhere, someone finds these recordings just as interesting as I do.

Even if nobody does, I sure have learned a lot. With any luck, I’ll refine my skills and build something truly awesome in the process.