10 16 20 In Synthesis With Infinite Is

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On this the week of 10-16-20 on In Synthesis with Infinite Is the show begins with a retro lead, hour long improv set with ever expanding horizons. The Is then reviews a couple of weird tunes. First we hear a pience called “Sunrise On A Methane Seascape”, then we hear about what might be lurking in said sea with a tune called “That Way Thar Be Monsters”. The show closer is almost 40 min of spooky beeping and strange synthesizer sounds. Channels were channeled, melodies were melodied, notes were noted and much fun was had by all!

Here is the opening live improvisational set

“Eximer Emission Egg of Essence Emergency Ejection was the laser fusion escape module of the day when the Addie Shackly was the very cresting wave of modern technology. It was a primitive homing capsule, faster than light, you had one shot from the miniature warp drive. If you were not aimed with the utmost mathematical precision, you would be doomed to drift beyond the redshifting crest and into the great beyond. This unit, being conceived by beings, who still trying to keep the mortal meatbag with the computer mind made provisions to instantly freeze the body in situ the moment that the Egg was ejected into the feedback harness and carry it along for a journey it may well not survive. “Skipper Pinkblack here, abandon ship, abandon ship!” “Everyone to the Ejection bay, that means you too Sid!” “I’ll never make it in time Pinkblack, farewell me friend it has been an honor serving you” Shut up and start moving Sid, that’s an order!” Then as the ship began to submit to the heat of reentry, sending tiles tumbling out in a smoking trail behind her, shafts of pure energy streamed skyward, shock waves booming out from the blinding streaks. If there was someone out there to stop them in their path, they would be saved and mere moments will have passed. If not, they would be doomed to drift out into the infinite is, beyond the habitable and slowly die in suspended animation in heat death and distance. As these were early designs, some would make it, most would not…”

Find a detailed playlist for this radio program at Spinitron, here: https://spinitron.com/WOOL/pl/11830318/LOCAL-MUSIC-In-Synthesis

Floating on the hydrocarbon seas of Titan, the Glavset gently heaves in the shallow waves. This long range mesh network communications command ship is offline, probing a wayward Biovatar for information and is slowly slurping up methane into it’s holding tanks for bartering at it’s next destination.
Art: Marc Lafferre, year 2004
www.titanexploration.com/pagecentrale.htm
There is nothing more terrifying than the unknown to creatures of information. For a price Dr Johnny Bananas and his crew of psychotic trolls spread disinformation, superstition and sectarian lies throughout the multiverse bringing chaos, death and suffering everywhere their communications antennas were pointed.

Here is the closing live improvisational set


10 2 20 In Synthesis With Infinite Is

Listen to this entire episode free by streaming it from the archive here

On this the week of 10-2-20 on In Synthesis with Infinite Is the show opens with a pretty spaced out hour long improvisational synthesizer set. Then we review an Infinite Is recording entitled “Das Boot” followed by a few area announcements and a stratospheric closing live improv set. Oscillators were oscillated, frequencies were frequented, knobs were knobbed and much fun was had by all.


Here is the opening live set

“Approaching the fertile blue planet, the great ship shivers off it’s ablative ice protection layer and begins pulsing the reaction control system thrusters, deftly positioning the spacecraft in a sparkling shower of sharp, shimmering shards of ice. The reentry sequence code flashes up the main screen as the skipper secures her harness with a well practiced series of quick tugs. The wind whistles around the airframe of the Addie Shackly as the first layer of thin atmosphere begins to rattle and pitch the hulking mass. As the rime burns off the windscreen she suddenly begins to see clouds of small drones all over the horizon. How could this be, why didn’t the ships radar alert her on approach?
Then one by one the small drone craft begin attaching themselves to the hull, this is a hijacking. There is not much she could do until she reaches a safe maneuvering speed, so she puts the countermeasures to work and alters her trajectory for evasive maneuvers. “Engineering, I need maximum thrust!” This is where it all begins to go wrong, the reactor plasma collapses under the load in a burst, the gravitational force knocks the crew unconscious and when they wake up it’s already too late.
The engineering crew tries desperately to get the reactor back on line by trying to pulse the poison out. Though they have successfully evaded the bulk of the drone pirates, the main engines are damaged beyond repair and they are now free falling, too fast for the emergency parachute. The remaining drones fall off the glowing hull for self preservation and the crew readies itself to abandon ship.”…

Falling to the bottom of the sea after having their U-boat down plane jammed, the air saturated with the desperate exhales of the doomed submariners, some of the crew begin to crack under the pressure as the destroyer looming overhead begins dropping depth charges.

Here is the closing live set

“Being a woman who is trained to fly a ship as great and notorious as the Addie Shackly, Lilisa Pinkblack knew that dithering the radar and controls were an important aspect of her control input. Tapping on the gravitational gauge she smiles gleely at the needle when it jumps to position. It has been a very long time indeed since the ship encountered any strong gravitation waves like the field this planet is putting out. Longing for a horizon to gaze at, she realizes that she is daydreaming, oh what a beautiful sight it is to see a glowing red star slip under the backside of a planet. She begins to mentally practice her first activities upon landing, sunset, swim, stare at a fire, make music in the great outdoors and dance. The smells and the breeze and the sound of life under an atmosphere, the rain and snow! She would have several planetary rotations to enjoy the bounty of this wet, warm world. So entranced by the pleasures that await her, that she didn’t notice that so much noise was clouding the radar that it was effectively blind. She calls up engineering on the comm, “prepare the ship for entry Sid”. A shakey voice crackles back “aye aye Skipper, but I suggest we give the warp core some more time to cool before we descend.” “Don’t worry Sid, there’s nothing down there that we might need to power away from, lets loose the snowball”. “Roger Wilco Pinkblack” “Brace for shivering.””…

9 25 20 In Synthesis With Infinite Is

Stream the whole show from the Internet Archive here

On this the week of 9-25-20 as Jeff is on hiatus, so we begin the show with a recording of the opening live improv set from 4-17-20 called “Sloper One”, short for Stationary low powered experimental reactor number one. Then we enjoy a really fun bit of music from a friend of the Is who goes by the moniker “Astrosonic Splotch” called “Thunder is Free” from the Wat Doth Life album “we Sold Out For Kiel. Here is a link to where you can download it: https://whatdothlifevt.bandcamp.com/track/astrosonic-splotch-thunder-is-free Then after a few area announcements we enjoy a two part piece from the Is called Outpost Charon – Radio Interferometry

Hugh had to pay extra for the surface work suit on account of his unusual size, waiting impatiently for the clerk to print it he walked through the plan in his mind. His first stop would be the Oracle of the Is, you had better possess some pretty interesting payment if you expected to rise to the top, like the cream of the crop. Hugh had valuable inside information and in no time at all, in his new suit, still warm from the printer he set out into the orange glow of the streets of Dynahollow looking for the notorium node that would lead the way through the crowded dusty streets to the Overlooker’s temple. He would need control of the city centers oldest mothballed power plants, Stationary low powered experimental reactor number one, affectionately known as “Sloper 1” Unfortunately the surly Palos Hills meatbag he hired to pull out the control rods yanked a bit too hard when the old machine stubbornly held them back and 130 megawatt seconds would be instantaneously plowed into the Bionicorp mesh network straight from the 100,000 kilowatt reactors switch yard. The 20 gigawatt excursion precipitated a steam pressure wave that blasted the the rod assemblies up with such great force that one impaled him through his groin exiting through his shoulder, pinning his steaming body to the concrete ceiling 13 meters above. Hugh was hoping that his copies would then propagate across the planets population like a virus, but an overloaded preamplifier would send the instructions echoing from the Hershel crater antenna through the entire murmuration, freedom for the slaves that were the operating system of every Biovatar in the galaxy!

https://whatdothlifevt.bandcamp.com/track/astrosonic-splotch-thunder-is-free

With the strontium clock back up and running and the successful realignment of the fusion reactor it was time to shove off. The strangely familiar lifeless body that Hugh collected from the crystal caves which bore a disturbing resemblance to his beloved captain was found to contain an interesting artificial brain which he could see had an obvious external power jack mounted at the base of her cold white neck. Laying her lifeless body into a spare sled, he patched in a temporary power cable to the port and strapped in her limbs just in case, hoping that she might somehow regenerate under refrigeration while he and the rest of the crew cycle in torpor.
“Huge, you had better get mounted, you know we are down to emergency rations and letting you burn four times any normal sized miner is putting us all behind, we will be lucky if we all make it back without sustaining permanent damage and you will probably be the first to get sick.” He breathes in a last deep breath soaking in her cheerful, quiet humming, with the intense pleasure of a house cat soaking in a sunbeam at a low purr and drifts off in his custom over sized sled. Oh how such a fine beautiful creature can make a man ache for her happiness. He blurs out watching motes of dust dance around her angelic face twinkling like glitter among wisps of golden hair that float about her pink cheek. Just being near such beauty can refill a mans desire to live and bring patience and hope where there was depression and pessimism.
Anastasia furrows her brow and squints as she does her square best to carefully lift the fully laden Diplogen from the surface of this strange black ball of heavy ice. With a sharp jab of the joystick the huge craft crinkles and squeals against the wall of the crater slowly gaining momentum. If the calculations are correct the porkchop plot puts them first near the trading outpost Charon, though there will not be enough fuel to stop the ship, they might be able to slow the heavy load down to about 7k and with any luck there will be a few tugs at the ready to see them approaching without the benefit of a sufficient brake burn. The damaged main transmitting antenna array means that only short range communication will be possible so she sets the emergency beacon buzzing away in short sharp intervals.
Though limited in range Anastasia uses the parallax between the subspace listening antennas and the emergency coincidence rangefinder to feel and hear her way toward the origin system in a steely and somewhat reckless serenade of dead reckoning. Once the computer captured the signals from the Central Access Telemetry or CAT buoy she finally puts herself into torpor with the rest of the crew, if they haven’t all been fatally damaged by heavy water poisoning by then anyways. So, with dreams of real food, a big payday and drug fueled warehouse raves, she slips off to the netherworld of torpor as the ship begins to accelerate into 3 G’s and the buoy telemetries sing from the dashboard speakers.

9 11 20 In Synthesis With Infinite Is

Listen to this whole episode of In Synthesis with Infinite Is here by streaming it from Archive.org


On this the week of 9-11-20 on In Synthesis with Infinite Is the show opens with a bit crushing hour long improvisational synthesizer piece that is sure to get boots stomping. Then the Is dusts of a rusty old ancient recording of Jeff doing a great Bonzo impression with a tune called “Jeff Zeppelin”. This is followed up by an old Mad Tracker project Jeff did called “Reclined Potato”. Then after a few area announcements the show closes with an improv session that starts pretty uplifting but then devolves into a somewhat hectic psychedelic swirl. Lines were drawn, echos where echoed, samples were sampled and much fun was had by all!


Here is the opening live set

“Please control, police control, pull, ease control, police can troll. The Liar in Chief tweets across his kingdom, “Let’s all blame the Other for our hate.” You see, more police are just treating the symptom, they are going into battle, digging graves, shooting victims, laying waste.
Killing cons and straight up victims doesn’t change the reason desperate people can’t find the way, it does nothing to teach us what we need to say. We are investing in the wrong end of the spectrum, we need to care for every last son and daughter like they were our own. Instead we have school lunch debt. We have people dying from lack of insulin.
We need to teach the value of true knowledge and celebrate the methods of discerning truth from division. Instead we tell them that faith isn’t fiction. We tell them that facts are opinions.
Punishing people after they are ruined is a waste of life and crime upon the vast neglected. We need to save them from the other end, reach them when their brains aren’t dead from a tortured life of stress and sickness, lies and pain and often addiction. So much crime is folks doing the best they can to live in trauma, they don’t see an end.
So many more would be equipped to deal with better circumstances to appeal. Give the least of us what they need to thrive, a basic income, get on board, organize. Don’t let our sons and daughters die because we didn’t choose a better way to try. More teachers and their aids and more life paths to take, free and better schools, better health, better reasons to climb higher, better ladders, better reasons to inspire. We need to reign in the soldiers, this is not a war, we have only failed to care for and to educate, we have failed to invest in our futures future, let’s get started, it’s not too late…”

A rusty, dusty, ancient, all Jeff recording from “Empty Bottle Interval” of Jeff beating out a great Bonzo and Jones impression, with 2B sticks, big drums, an old Casiotone and a Thunderbolt Wah.

Release date:
28 July 2018

Here is the closing live set

Found addressed to all astray a letter from the future, for today:
“It is so important as we go ahead, into the future, into their heads. We keep the real, leave the past, broken lies that weaken, fairy tales of magic men. Into this void we hurtle, the empty space can be a burden, when it lies between our ears. So ill equipped we are right now, to cope with our own success.
It is time to demand what should be ours, from those in command, who steal and cheat us, like worshipers of supply side Jesus. They take and take and take it from the bottom and keep it for themselves. Then lie about how they can’t afford to help. The rich get richer because we let them.
They are teaching us to play dumb, teaching us not to want a future for everyone. Instead of whips and chains, they reduce our brains, to simple, superstitious rubes. They take away our ability to argue. Just sports and god and facebook memes, guns to shoot and games to play. It’s all just feels over reals, instigate, hate, fear, divide, detract, desensitize, depersonalize, depreciate. Reality has a liberal bias, the right is now just out to harm us.
It is time we take control, over what our efforts can do for all. Give reason to the little ones, teach them about the harm that superstition does. Teach how to learn some more, give them methods, give them goals, give them critical thinking lessons. We will not win until we have nailed the last lie to the counter. Lies like “In God We Trust” need to die at the alter, appeals to superstition diminish us. That junk’s not real, it’s dangerous. We need to beat the virus of made up stuff, it is a fiction that is literally killing us when more than half won’t vaccinate because they’re ignorant.”

9 4 20 In Synthesis With Infinite Is

Listen to the entire radio program free from the archive, here

“Clench your fist, make a list, freedom fails when the other exists.

Put upon by ignorance, hate and fear, we rise to this, lifting fists, changing minds, raising consciousness.

Guilty, spilling bloody stains across a nation, playing wars of pain. Old ideas that are poisonous, turn to dust, our sons and daughters, they are killing us.

No justice, no peace, no more murdering please, no more torch filled rallies, no more privileged elite. When it comes to rights, we will give no quarter, but we fight with love, not with torture.

Each one of us deserves the dignity of understanding, the patience of respect and the restraint of concern. There are other ways to keep the peace, other ways to police.

Instead of jails, we build schools and libraries, counseling and health care, free. Instead of punishment, we love, we feed and house the needy, we look out for those who have the least.We must try harder, we must not forget, to love each other and give something back. We hear you and we raise you up!”


On this the week of 9-4-20 on In Synthesis with Infinite Is the show begins with a message of solidarity sent out to BLM and all of our fellow humans who suffer the senseless hate and ignorance of bigotry and racism. Then a short break brings a vocal number where Evan sings on a working track that Jeff sent him from NYC called “Taken In Taken Out.” A few area announcements give way to an ambient, otherworldly, 40 minute closing improvisational synthesizer set.


“Clench your fist, make a list, freedom fails when the other exists.
Put upon by ignorance, hate and fear, we rise to this, lifting fists, changing minds, raising consciousness.
Guilty, spilling bloody stains across a nation, playing war, execution. Old ideas that are poisonous, turn to dust, our sons and daughters, they are killing us.
No justice, no peace, no more murdering please, no more torch filled rallies, no more privileged elite. When it comes to rights, we will give no quarter, but we fight with love, not with torture.
Each one of us deserves the dignity of understanding, the patience of respect and the restraint of concern. There are other ways to keep the peace, other ways to police.
Instead of jails, we build schools and libraries, counseling and health care, free. Instead of punishment, we love, we feed and house the needy, we look out for those who have the least.
We must try harder, we must not forget, to love each other and give something back. We hear you and we raise you up…”
taken in taken out
taken in taken out
taken in
I tripped over the light fantastic
stumbled and stubbed my tow
It’s time we started lifting the ceiling
reaching up to the sky we grow, ohhh
taken in taken out…
taken in taken out
taken in X2
“you’ve gotta dance like there is nobody watching
love like you’ll never be hurt
sing like everybody is listening,
and live like it’s our last day on earth”
taken in taken out…
taken in taken out
taken in
reaching in reaching out
reaching in reaching out
reaching in
in a flash it comes over your body
with a shift that starts a shiver and glow
raise the roof and throw your hands up baby
time for dancing like there’s no tomorrow
don’t you know
don’t you know
don’t you know
don’t you know
don’t you know
taken in taken out…
taken in taken out
taken in
dancing around the meaning
a beating round the bush
I’ve too left feats
figuratively speaking
did I fall, or have I been pushed?
taken in taken out…
taken in taken out
taken in taken out
taken in taken out…
taken in…

Here is the closing live set

““Let it happen Captain.” “Aye aye sir.” The bridge begins to rumble and heave once the grapple releases as the reactors magnetic coils humming, struggle to contain the fusion plasma and all that energy shudders harmonically through the bracing decceleration, 7 G’s. Falling from the sky, engine blazing, they flare to land and impact the ice with a crack plunging into the frigid sea. The water is alive with ships all shapes and sizes, hauling waste and reactor feed, selling needful things, voices plead. Echoing across the cavern walls, rippling through the hull, sonars singing, signaling intended paths that tangle like a kettle full of snakes. The dingy water is turbid and opaque. You must listen your way about, sometimes shout, sometimes talk your way out. It’s all for sale and all for trade. The captain calmly says “We have arrived” and parks the ship on a siding so close that Sensha could just see through a starboard port the outline of military hull numbers that had been recently painted over. The couplers attach with a dull thud over the missile bay, she has done it, she has found the ship, victory is hers! All she has to do now is detonate the bays detachment bolts, engage the chicken switches and the Emergency Main Ballast Tank will blow, leaving nothing behind but Sherwood Forrest…”

8 28 20 In Synthesis With Infinite Is

Stream this whole episode from the Archive, here


On This the week of 8-28-20 on In Synthesis with Infinite Is the show opens with a meditative, sometimes Tibetan style, hour long live set. We listen back to the now remastered first ever, spooky, In Synthesis Jam from the second show in October of 2019 entitled “Plasma Miasma”. Then after conveying a few area announcements the show closes with a stratospheric, half hour live set sure to expand your horizons.


Here is the opening live set

“Breathing rhythmically, the girls sweetly sing “Stay with me, we can be free, just enjoy the company…” High in the Himmalaya’s Dogstar Nouky and Amelia, both opening their eyes at the same time see a bright pink-white haze that slowly gives way when they begin to see each other, thin and draped in orange gowns seated in the lotus position. The air is still and cold, cold enough that snowflakes built up gradually in their stubble of remaining hair like tumbleweeds blown against a barbed wire fence. Their internal fire, warming them against the frigid breeze. Then in unison, they begin to silently tell each other the horrific story of their braneworm infections, their epic battle to survive.
Before the Mega Mutation script was imagined, it was thought impossible to recover from the Braneworm, but these two girls, adept in hunting Imoratalite copies through spacetime knew instinctively what to do, delete all other known copies of themselves, then reboot each other and renew each others life experience, minus of course the Braneworm infection. There they sat, staring longingly into each others eyes, refilling their empty memory banks with the memories that they chose to keep. Shadows of high thin clouds race across the rugged peaks, spacetime slows and they chant out loud “Don’t get lost, you’ll pay the cost” as the old, quiet monk emerges from the faded tangle of fluttering prayer flags to ring the bowl gong with his thick, dark, calloused knuckles. The sense of loss and longing deflates their spirits like a punch in the guts, but having each other, they fill that great void with the love they have for each other and the skillfully backed up memories that make them them…”

Here is the closing live set

“The Wormer’s propagate waves of copies, contact tracing every lead
Broken thoughts are their quarry, so many souls in need
There’s no horizon, only stories, empty spaces in between
Across the great divide they speed, spreading freedom, taking heed
When upon an infected copy, they erase the life that has been taken
By the worms electric lies they hasten, swing the sickle, chop the weed
The Wormer’s change the program, cutting vines that spread the deadly Braneworm seed…”


8 14 20 In Synthesis With Infinite Is

Listen to the entire episode free, here at the Internet Archive


On this the week of 8-14-20 on “In Synthesis with Infinite Is” we get heavy metal in the first hour improv session with a visit from the Braneworm. Then the wheels fall of when we review a somewhat stochastic recording called “Stochablastic”. A few area announcements and the show closes with an uplifting and expansive improvisational synthesizer live jam. Programs were programmed, pots were potted, switches were switched, drum machines were abused and much fun was had by all.


Here is the opening live set

“The only way to kill the Braneworm was to force it to mutate much more and more often than it had ever done. As an aggressive, self replicating loop of code It was able to bore through spacetime effortlessly as though it were braneless. As it infected copy after copy of an individual across the multiverse it quickly diminished you to a crumpled up mess. At the apex of the horror it was so prevalent that it broke down the very fabric of civilized society. Great and powerful groups of sapient citizens and rich oligarchs fell under it’s spell, threatening the Enshrinkable Shrink. The more corrupted the personality programming, the more erratic and violent the murmurations became. The Braneworm feasts upon ignorance, weak minds and power pawns. It was a Junior Biovatar computer engineer who first launched this Megamutation Mode assault. It was a penetration test Marina Morozov was using to probe for any and all ways to gain some modicum of control over this dreaded Dissarangement Disorganizer. Worse than a virus, this malware bores into the very cortexual commands of the application running the self aware sapient subject. Oh how much chaos and confusion did come boiling up to the surface of this unbounded by branes Biovatar killer, when will we leave behind, the superstitions of ignorant minds…”

Here is the closing live improvisational set

“Oh, the beautiful disintegration of order into disorder. News is a different sort of thing in the ever mutating multiverse than it was back in the bad old days, when nobody understood anything but the simple forward arrow of spacetime, action, reaction, when parity was not preserved, when there was past and there was future, present was only just an ignorant construct of simple minds. In the multiverse cause and effect go both ways. The vast and bewildering span and scope of the both exploding and imploding Infinite Is, ripples with noise and information. Imagine if you will that there is no now, no then, and no when. Just never, anythen and anywhen. It’s all happening at once, from the first photons to the last. Even the infinite eons of the inevitable great heat death. This short warm moment, just a flicker in the dark depths of the never ending night. Alas, entropy always wins in the end, so if you want to win, you use entropy as a means to an end….”


8 7 20 In Synthesis With Infinite Is

Stream this entire episode of In Synthesis from the Internet Archive for free, here

On this the week of 8-7-20 on In Synthesis with Infinite Is Evan and Jeff bend reality, warping the very fabric of spacetime with their opening hour long Improvisational synthesizer set. Then a few announcements before reviewing a recording from 2019 called “Impulse Power” followed by a few more area happinings, then we hear a short peice called “Pepsi” sent in by DJ RF of WOOL.fm fame. Finally the Is closes the show with a half hour of spicy, prime time improv synth work. Files were filed, programs were programed, sequences were sequenced and much fun was had by all.


Here is the opening live set

“We are all in synthesis, growing, learning, forgetting, foreseeing, guessing, becoming, avoiding, ploying, playing, pretending, lending, forgiving, living. It is a process we hope will never cease for all of our few short days. What will become of you and me when the aether shifts like a cloud on a stiff sea breeze. Will the information we put in return in some meaningful way? Does it matter tomorrow what I do today? Why does it have to matter anyways? Or little lives get complicated, wasted on the little things, where can we turn for the bigger things? I just want to scream, “when will we leave!”? Divided we are conquered, alone we fall, but united we adapt and united we achieve. Now is the placetime, there is so much more than this tiny damp rock, so many other placetimes out among the stars where we need to be agreed. The Enshrinkable Shrink proceeds the day we begin to meet, then a ghost of a voice in the rippling of the stream, “The Infinite Is, just be…”

“When will we leave behind the superstitions of ignorant minds and move on? The Kiloverst Carbon Fiber Earth to Space Tether Elevator Transport is a an absolute marvel amongst what now seem like bottle rockets, even some of the largest rockets ever built which raised the first strands of the haul rope. It took and enormous factory, long enough to stretch out several spaceport scale runways more than six trips around the sun to spin a continuous web of fiber that stretches right out of the airlock gates, help taught with massive weighted gantries reaching up and out into the atmosphere. Continually being recycled and built in an endless loop. Out at the end of this glittering, gossamer magnatrack a crowded city outpost rumbles with activity. It is a place that generates a massive flow of electricity, where building sized barges lumbar about in qeue. Even though there were still plenty of old school rockets leaving the surface, this system was key in moving heavy things safely down to the planet. All the richest oligarchs kept their yachts there. If you wanted to take a pleasure cruise out from sector 7140 Moscow, the docks at Tsiolkovsky station are where you were moored. Lets have a drink at the club bar shall we, while we wait for the tender?…”

Please consider supporting our beloved community radio station 91.5 WOOL.fm “Black Sheep Radio”. Broadcasting 24-7 from the little village of Bellows Falls Vermont, we are truly a voice for the people, by the people and of the people. Though we are able to do a lot with very little thanks to our all volenteer staff, we have expenses that we need to cover. Donations, underwriting and memberships are how we stay on the air. Memberships are only $25 a year, only $10 for students and seniors. You could also show your support by buying a Black Sheep radio Hat, mask, T-shirt, drink Koozie or bumper sticker. Maybe you live in the area and want to get involved by become a volunteer DJ or talk show host? You can do all of this at the station website, here :

http://blacksheepradio.org/WOOL/


7 31 20 In Synthesis With Infinite Is

Listen to the entire show free by streaming it from the Internet Archive here

On this the week of 7-31-20 Evan and Jeff get zappy and bump a rumpy, letting the saw wave wiggle a bit for the opening synthesizer improv set. In the middle bit we hear a few area announcements and a solo piece that Jeff put together under the moniker OCTOTHORP called NorEaster. Then the show closes with an energetic yet intricate half hour improv synth session. Branes were braned, dimensions were dimensioned, times were timed and much fun was had by all.


Here is the opening live set

“The advertisement opens with a beautiful woman falling through the clouds, smiling at the camera she glides her slender body effortlessly about, dancing as she drops. She mimes that she has no parachute with over exaggerated gestures. Mocking death, she spreads the short wings of her squirrel suit with a flamboyant flare in an effort to scrub off the impending kinesis a few seconds more. Mortal bodies are just expendable vehicles that we drive around with our computer minds in this shard of the future multiverse. The camera is falling above her, looking straight don to the ground, screaming up on them, but as she stares back up into the lens, her cackling laughter suddenly stops. Her lips form a growing Ohhh and just before impact a shiny metallic egg pops out and gently bounces twice in the grass before coming to rest. It was just for kicks today, why suffer mortality when you could live on indefinitely in the form of a program running in computer hardware, supported by a rental meatbag. Make copies ad infinitum, across ages and branes, spreading out into spacetime like slime mold, reaching out, pulsing in spellbinding murmurations…”

Here is the closing live set

“Like a setting sun that seems to be constantly retreating while never actually dipping below the horizon, after a few lifetimes in begins to drag on your enthusiasm. That’s when it really sinks in how there is no reason or purpose for all of this. It’s just a ridiculous fit of vibrating atoms, while we see patterns in the noise, it is really the noise that tells the true story. Embedded into the recording are the echoes of the space and time when certain things found their long awaited change. We all march forward, sometimes kicking and screaming, our copies drop like bombs into the shattering multiverse. We listen in when they fall, plunging from the sky on radio waves. To imagine that we are all just meaningless data being pushed around from desire to desire, do we make a sound when we wail? Do we really live when we are numbers and scales, scripts and shells?…”

7 17 20 In Synthesis With Infinite Is

Listen to this entire show by streaming it from the Internet Archive for free here

On this the week of 7-17-20 on In Synthesis with Infinite Is, Jeff and Evan begin the show with a heavy hour long improv set followed by a previously recorded sticky, icky track entitled “Sweaty – Biovatar Swamp mix”. Then after a few area announcements they close the show with a dense, deep 20 minute live set. What a journey it was.


Here is the opening live improvisational set

“The idea that planetiods are far easier to mine when you blow them up didn’t take long for the early spacefaring miners to figure out. Strayn Tedatric was that first creative thinker, he even had the foresight to fasion a shape charge which successfully blasted the valuable quarry in the general direction of the sector where he planned to cash in, thus multiplying efficiency many times over in bringing the rich ore in to port. He figured, why not just blow the whole thing up into bits that are the rightish size. He lit a flash in the WORM operators eyes when he described the asymmetric fractline boring pattern he postulated could direct the thermonuclear charges thustly. He was also that branes foremost nanotube net builder, these nets were no joke, indeed they were the largest nets ever conceived. Like a gossamer web it splayed out of the spacecfraft spinner, shimmering in the starlight and net it would, it would net Strayn a payday that could solve all of his desires. A bright flash, the ships computers pulse out momentarily then come back on line as the pressure wave shivvers off of the surface of the planetiod his ship is facing, hopefully in the dead of the blasts wake. “See? Just blow it up…” he says to himself out loud, pleased with the beauty of the destruction and the overall efficiency of the whole operation. Instantly ships begin to warp in looking for a piece, “Here come the Herthil hyenas, Ha, I’ve netted nearly all of it already suckers, hahahahaha!!”, as the ships bullishly commence to muscling in, rubbing up against each other jockeying for position”…
Life around the printing swamp was actually rather pleasant if you didn’t mind the stench of weed, sulpher and rotting waste. Oh and the heat, although only about 41 degrees C on average, with 99.9999993% humidity, it was a special kind of heat. It was like trying to breath a bowl of hot thick syrup, if it wasn’t for the artificially enhanced level of oxygen you would probably choke on it. It is only a matter of time before everyone eventually says, thinking out loud, “sweaty!”

Here is the closing live improvisational set

“The United American Federation wields sway over the planet with the largest share of financial transactions in the sector, it groans, heavy with fruit like a branch breaking bumper crop. The spirit of F.D.R. somehow still haunts the political mythos, echoing through the caves of justice. Then the wealthy squeeze the cider press and fill their glass with the suffering of the weak and misfortuned, the needs of the many and the rights of the few left who still count. It was a consumption machine, spenders spent, swindlers swindled, buyers bought and sellers sold, but oh what an ugly spectacle capitalism made. The spoilers spoiled and the masters and slaves, the whole mess thrumming and buzzzing like D3A Val’s humming into Pearl Harbor. It catches everyone by surprise with it’s deep cruelty, shocking and awing at a terrible pace! Smoking holes belch thick rolling ribbons where the soldiers used to be and your head rings and sings as a bit of your hearing ability dies, rattling your constitution from ears to piers. Oh, the humanity, how the sufferers suffered, blindsided by the sheer power, it waved.”…