“I Don’t Know What to Call this One” and “The Compression of Sound”

Here is the latest prompt from Flash! Friday. The story had to include a puppy and I

wrote two pieces in response.

caruso_with_phonograph2

I Don’t Know What to Call this One

They put a “non” to my name to distinguish the true from the false. They clothe me in all sorts of names to shackle me within their arbitrary limits. But see, I’m as shapeless as a dream and can take whatever form I want whenever I want and just when they think they’ve pinned me down like some butterfly on a board, there I go, warm in my covers, changing shape on them, and flutter on just outside of reach.

Funny really, ‘cause that’s what my name means (the etymology of it anyway): to shape, to fashion, to invent. And what I shape is always true. Matter of fact, I point at it, the truth that is.

Today I’m a man in a suit playing a record looking at his puppy.

And of those clothes?

Today I’m wearing nothing but a trench-coat over nothing but my birthday suit.

So watch out cause I’m about to expose myself with a flash.

The Compression of Sound

Mp3s reduce music to 1s and 0s. And of course you can pick and choose to buy the songs you like. And if you’re young you probably walk around listening with headphones on.

With CDs you still had to buy the album, but you could skip the songs you didn’t like and you probably knew the song by its number.

Unless you wanted to hassle with fast-forwarding and rewinding, with tapes you had to listen to it all.

With a phonograph you could skip the songs you didn’t like, but whereas CDs and Mp3s are crisp and clear, with records you heard the crackle—the roughness and imperfections.

Mp3s are fantasies of an ADD, germophobic, and air-brushed world, a world spinning and spinning and spinning like a puppy chasing its tail. And the way things are going—if we don’t tune the world out with our headphones–we’d be lucky to find the spindle at the phonograph’s center.


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