The ritual:
Using speech-to-text software trained to my voice, I get to process the world’s media (including environmental sounds) in a way that usurps the originator’s intent and content. The software is as imperfect as my notes are and misrepresents sentiments as well as police sirens as text, translating the mumblings as dialogue. What’s more, in its translations it adds (hummms, ahs, ands & LOL) to make another unique piece of content for others to scan. Think of the process as an interactive shoreline based on initial conditions and interrupting floods of events. What you end up with is an electronic oracle that spews out unclaimed media prophets. Sometimes you get hooch and sometimes you get scotch!
The rules:
The raw text file is generated from an environmental source and is recreated into a stream of content that needs to be clipped and cut like a shrub…frequently not taking the form it was supposed to have when it was recorded. All ordered text remain hallowed but words were cut, added, indented and otherwise dressed for the occasion as you remembered. Only afterthoughts are added robustly dotted with parenthesis and punctuation in the attempt to capture the nuance that is lost in the moments. When complete, it is not recognizable any more than that uncle that moved to Wisconsin after his parole.
The results:
Our reliance on technology to interpret and host the world’s events is colliding with our ability to absorb, analyze, reflect and proclaim. Good. Are these gizmos mutating our perceptions or making us own them? Beats me… Maybe now we can witness that what was, wasn’t as we thought. That which never happened, could’ve. Somehow I think that it is like the NSA/CSS threat; there is only the hint of something important to be gleaned from the abyss of bytes.
Next up, self-talk recorders…it hurts my amygdala just considering it.
Social Mode 
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