Mating Calls

I used to really enjoy electronic things that made noises. The more obnoxious, the better. My early macs had a control panel installed that let them make a noise for practically any user interaction. I distinctly remember the Mac IIfx screaming "HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FREAKING MIND?" when the trash was emptied.

After hearing that sort of thing twelve million times, it gets to wear on you. Worse, you're sensitized, and you soon discover that every doodad that bears a microcontroller is likely to emit noise. The propensity for electronic things to fill the white void with noise, from belching fans to pesky low-khz beeps, is maddening. Don't things get they exist to help me? They can wait their due time.

One of the more flagrant offenders is the telephone. Statistically, no one ever calls me. Therefore, having the phone ring is a jarring experience. From nothing to full-on alarm racket. Particularly cellular phones, which have the amazing ability to play recordings of Kim Kardashian whistling dixie through her nose while Justin Bieber thumps his chest in the background.

Seriously, who would want to hear that?

Statistically, no one ever calls me, so when the phone rings, any phone, I'm jarred out of my focus and am somewhat exasperated, expecting another telemarketer. (If you actually want to talk to me, you're an extreme outlier!) In an attempt to squelch the polyphonic, super-sonic squealing that belched forth from my own cell phone phone when it rang, I started converting some audio from a CD I have, sound that I am not immediately annoyed by.

That's right.

The sound of oak toads croaking.