The recent controversy over the 14-year-old Muslim teenager who built a clock and brought it to school only to be arrested and charged with making a “hoax bomb” has brought to light a troubling aspect of our modern culture.  It is an aspect of the culture that particularly hits home for me, and it’s not Islamophobia or racial profiling.  I am a white male, and therefore not subject to negative racial profiling.  I am not religious either, and though there are people who fear and/or despise atheists, we don’t have to deal with the ignorant mobs with pitchforks mentality that people in the Islamic community face.  So, while this incident does indeed illustrate the Islamophobia and racial profiling in our culture, that’s not the part that hit home for me.

The part that hit me was…  This was a nerdy 14-year-old kid who is into electronics.  I was a nerdy 14-year-old kid who was into electronics.  I was made fun of, called a “nerd” when the word actually hurt, had my books dumped by bullies and my head kicked into my locker.  Back when I was Ahmed’s age, the vast majority of people didn’t own or use personal computers at home.  Most people had a VCR, but didn’t know how to program it.  The Internet wasn’t open to the public.  My parents had a single land-line telephone for the whole house because we didn’t have cellular phones.  Being ignorant about basic technology to the point where a bundle of wires is scary maybe would have some sense back then, but today we live in a highly technical world.  Electronics, circuits, sensors, all the stuff that makes our computerized world function, have become so ubiquitous that it seems only the most ignorant and clueless person would mistake a clock (even a home-made one with visible wires) for an explosive device.  I certainly wouldn’t expect that level of technical ignorance from a professional educator or law enforcement officer.

It seems likely that some people have feared technology for as long as there has been technology.  I’m sure that whoever chipped the first hand axe faced at least one person who lost their shit over this strange, alien artifact:

Ook: Ook make choppy cutter from stone!  Look!  Help cut things!

Thrag: Ook make bomb!  Ook make bomb!

But I keep reading allegedly intelligent people saying things like, “well, better safe than sorry, it DID look like a bomb after all” and other people arguing about the racial profiling angle, but rarely is anybody saying the painfully obvious thing, namely, NO.  It did not look like a bomb.

I’ll say it again.  It did not resemble a bomb.  Not in the least.

But, you may say, there were wires!

Might I remind you that wires do not explode.  They are inert.

But there was a numeric digital display!  Like a countdown timer!  On a bomb!

Also like the timer in your microwave, or the display on your alarm clock.  Again, numeric displays do not explode.  They are inert.

But, there was a circuit board!  It looked sinister!

Again, not explodey.  Circuit boards are everywhere.  There is one in the machine you are using to read this.

No, it didn’t look like a bomb, it looked like some sort of home-made timing device (aka: a clock), built by a nerdy 14-year-old kid who is learning electronics.  Nerdy 14-year-old kids who are learning electronics have been building similar things for decades.  They don’t look like bombs, they look like clocks.

I’ll tell you what would have made it look like a bomb…  Something attached to the timer that would be capable of exploding.  If Ahmed had painted some toilet paper tubes red to look like TNT and run some wires into them, that would have looked like a bomb.  If he had taken a grey brick of modeling clay and made it look like a clump of C4, that would have looked like a bomb.

See, in order for a device to look like a bomb, it inherently needs to appear capable of exploding.  Only a completely tech ignorant person would look at wires, circuits, and LCD screens and think “bomb”.

I’ll tell you what else looks like a bomb, because it is one.  A glass bottle filled with gasoline with a rag stuck in the end.  No wires.  No circuits.  Very explodey.

Now, I’m not saying that a kid walks in with a bundle of wires and you do nothing.  One would presume that a) his teachers were aware of him, b) they probably knew he was a science nerd type kid, c) they should have been curious enough to look at his device.  If they had seen something that appeared to be potentially dangerous, wires leading into something other than a numeric display perhaps, then they might have been justified in worrying.  But 10 seconds of examination from somebody with even the tiniest bit of common sense would have kept this story from ever making the news.

But no.  We now live in a world based almost entirely on electronics in which people feel that being entirely ignorant of the subject is perfectly defensible and persecuting teenage kids who have more intelligence and curiousity than they do is also perfectly justifiable behavior.

If you are scared of what’s inside your computer, or you see mysterious wires in the hands of a brown person and crap your pants, you are living in the wrong century, my friend.  If you think the rational and appropriate response is for the rest of us to react in fear and loathing because you can’t be bothered to learn something, well, too bad.  The genie is out of the bottle.  Maker culture exists.  Technology is in the hands of the next generation whether they are named Jimmy or Muhammed, and if you don’t want to be a paranoid ignoramus, you just might have to learn to tell the difference between a bomb and a clock.  This goes double if you work in a position of authority.  Your ignorance is your problem.  Stop making it a problem for everybody else.

In my life I have generated and hoarded a lot of media.

Audio recordings, photographs, written documents, presentations, software, video, film…  It’s a little overwhelming.

I find it overwhelming in part because I’m a bit of a pack rat.  I never want to throw away anything that I might want later.  The longer I live the more cluttered my hard drives and shelves get.  There are literally hundreds of gigabytes of files and hundreds of physical items.

For the better part of the last decade I have struggled, unsuccessfully, to find a system for cataloging, organizing, and (most importantly) ARCHIVING all of this media so it stops cluttering up my life but doesn’t disappear from it.  I have tried many systems but they all break down relatively quickly.  Either they become too organizationally complex or the media itself becomes unreliable or I simply lose track of what has already been archived versus what has yet to be gone through.  This actually stresses me out.

Yeah.  I’m not normal.

“The Cloud” won’t work for me.  Too much stuff to deal with and paying for ongoing storage is not something I want to do.  What I want is a system that is:

  • Simple
  • Permanent
  • Affordable
  • Easy to retrieve media from

It would help if it also assists me by letting me find duplicates, tag content with metadata, and all that stuff so when I want to find that scanned baby picture from 1995 I can find it.

I think I may have finally found that final solution, the system I can rely on until I die, and here’s what it is.

There is a new type of recordable disc called an M-Disc (http://www.mdisc.com/) that has a DoD-tested shelf-life of approximately 1000 years and these discs are available in DVD and Blu-Ray formats ranging from 4.7GB to 100GB of storage.  They require a special drive to record them, but once burned can be read by any normal DVD or Blu-Ray drive.  They literally etch the data into carbon.  So, I’ve gone ahead and ordered myself an M-Disc Blu-Ray burner that can do BDXL (up to 128GB per disc).  Unlike flash drives, hard drives, CD-R, DVD-R, tape backups, or any other form of media I’ve ever used, these discs should be readable for the rest of my life, and the life of my child and any succeeding grandchildren I may one day have.  I can burn the data and never think about it again.  Ridiculous, right?  Maybe.  I don’t know.  I really value a lot of music and photography taken by people I’ve known and loved who are no longer alive.  I’m glad it still exists.  I will mentally rest easy when I know that all the media that really matters to me is permanently preserved.

Except…  except I still need to be able to find it and indexing and sorting hundreds of thousands of pieces of media is hard.

I’m not the only person to ever have this problem.  There is a class of applications out there called disc catalogers.  They index the contents of removable drives so that you can search the contents, find what you want, pop the disc in, and get the file.  I’ve used a few.  They all start to choke when they get to catalogs of any serious size.  I had given up hope but then I did some searching and found this article.  Apparently there is a Holy Grail on this front and it’s called NeoFinder.

Next week I hope to reach a point where I’ve finally got a permanent system and I can start offloading the massive quantities of media choking all my drives and cluttering up my life.  I’m going to archive it, catalog it, and delete it if I don’t really need it handy.

I’m basically drooling right now, I’m so excited.  Have I finally found The Grail?  Is the combination of 1000-year 100GB optical storage and The Ultimate Cataloging Application finally going to solve this problem for me?

I feel like it will.  I’ll report my results when I have them.

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About six months ago I was on Facebook and I noticed a post from my friend Liz about a 90’s cover band. I said it sounded like fun. That Saturday, we had our first practice.

I had previously been in the band Robots From the Future with Liz’s husband Keith. In fact, I was singing and playing the guitar for them as they took their vows on-stage at the Kitty Kat Club at the end of a Robots set which happened to also be their wedding. Liz had started taking drum lessons and really wanted a band to play in so she could have a reason to keep practicing and playing. Keith was already on-board on guitars so I volunteered to play bass and keyboards. There was an obligatory “Craig’s List Guy” who showed up for the first practice (I was late, I missed him, he wasn’t invited back) and there was one more person to join the trio of myself, Liz, and Keith, a young man named Cristhian Arias-Romero who was a friend of a friend and came highly recommended as a singer and performer.

For the first few practices we brainstormed 90’s songs we loved. We all came at it from different angles. Keith was suggesting things like They Might Be Giants and Ween, I was throwing out Elliot Smith and Jeff Buckley, Cris was pushing Britney Spears and Madonna, Liz was voting for Cake and Fresh Prince, it was a great mash up of music from different genres and years, like a tornado in a Sam Goody store circa 1999. I found myself thinking that this could be a fun band to be in. Not only did I already like Liz and Keith, but Cris was really a great guy too, the chemistry was fantastic from the beginning. If that could be combined with a band that could play a wide range of music and make it our own, maybe being in a “cover band” wouldn’t be so bad.

Cuz I gotta admit… I came into the band with a bit of a bias. I have always considered cover bands to be somehow lesser. It’s not like the musicians aren’t good, or the songs, it’s just that I associate cover bands with background music at weddings or fawning tributes to better bands. It was hard for me to mentally connect the words “creativity” and “cover band”. It’s like, “get your own ideas” or “the original artist did it better, why are you appropriating their stuff?” They’ve always seemed lazy to me and I’ve never been in a proper cover band before. Oh sure, I used to jam on the weekends with some guys and we pretty much just played Neil Young songs, but we never gigged and we didn’t take it all that seriously. It was just something to do.

So, joining a 90’s cover band? Really? I’m doing that now? And we named ourselves after a Star Trek TNG episode? Really??

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Well, I got past my initial skepticism and started to enjoy myself and before long we had our first gig on the calendar, a night at the Eagles Club playing for the 90’s Preservation Society. It was the perfect place to kick-off a 90’s cover band and the first gig went remarkably well. We flubbed some notes and there were nerves, but the crowd was really responsive and Cris was such a natural showman that nobody cared. He was dancing and belting out the “jams” and really selling it and it was electric. Keith and Liz and I were pretty solid as a unit. It was crazy fun. That was when I really realized there was something to this band. We weren’t just playing 90’s songs, even from that first show we were a little theatrical, we were making the songs different and owning them.

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There have been many conversations over margaritas and pizza at band practices about how cover bands are perceived. How many people in the music community look down on you if you “just play covers”. Some people don’t want to book you. Some of the people that DO want to book you only want you to be a radio made of meat. We’re a theatrical band that happens to play 90’s songs, not a tribute to Pearl Jam or background music for a bar mitzvah. Getting shows lined up was a little challenging at first, but a few made their way onto the calendar. One of our next shows was at Palmer’s Bar, which, frankly, is not generally considered to be a venue that most bands even want to play. Palmer’s is a dive bar with a stage about the size of a king size bed. Most of the people I told about our pending gig at Palmer’s used words like “stabbing” or “shooting” in their remarks in re: The Venue.

However, we were offered the gig and we took the gig and we rocked the shit out of Palmer’s, tiny stage and all. Nobody was shot or stabbed, and we were invited back, and we went back, and it was awesome again, and we are going back again later this month.

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During the summer I actually played a few solo sets too. I did a night at Acadia and I played acoustic guitar for a dog rescue event on the government plaza in downtown Minneapolis, but FoD just kept getting better and more fun. I was offered the chance to play a fund-raiser carnival for Safe Hands Animal Rescue and I turned it into a FoD gig.

By the time we played the doggy carnival we were really starting to gel as a band. Cris showed up to that one wearing a homemade pink poodle outfit and it was going awesome until we got rained out and had to cut our second set short after only two songs.

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Weekly practices, a few bar gigs, the 90’s Preservation Society, a dog rescue carnival, it was a busy first six months for our band, at least by my standards. I’ve never been in bands that play out on a regular basis. Most of my background is in writing and recording. This was getting to be a really fun time. And people were noticing. And then… sadly… Cris told us that he was going to be moving to Seattle.

This was a blow. I am happy for him, and his reasons are really solid, but we were just really turning into a really unique, creative, and interesting band… that happens to play covers. And we had three pending gigs on the calendar. And without Cris being a larger than life presence up front, it wasn’t sure how we could still be a cover band without turning into the stereotypical outfit.

Our next gig, the last one with Cris, was the 10th Brainniversary of the Winona Zombie Crawl, and it happened last Saturday.

This gig was special for a few reasons. One, we were playing both the opening and closing sets of the night bookending the acts Speshul K and Koo Koo Kanga Roo. Second, it was a road trip, Winona being something like 120 miles from my house, so we rented a trailer and got a hotel room for the night. Third, it was a freaking ZOMBIE CRAWL so we all went in costume. Last but not least, it was the last show with Cris without whom, it’s safe to say, we would not be the band we are.

The band all met up at my place around 1:00 in the afternoon where we ran through a couple songs, ate a pizza, and basically got loosened up. Then we went to the U-Haul place and got the trailer and came back and loaded up. The trip to Winona was beautiful, country roads with corn fields, perfect early-fall-late-summer weather, then the bluffs of southeastern Minnesota and the Mighty Mississippi River in the Lake City-Pepin-Wabasha area. We checked into our hotel, contemplated “food lamps”, and Liz and Cris worked on their makeup and Keith got into his robot zombie outfit. I think the kid behind the check-in desk at the Super 8 was crushing on Liz a little.

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Keith and I went ahead to Ed’s (No Name) Bar, our home for the evening, and unloaded drums and keyboards and guitars and amps and all that good stuff. Our sound guy was Rob and he helped us do the usual “plug this thingie in over there” action. Actually, side note, Rob did a great job and I heard from a few people that the sound was excellent, so thanks Rob!

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Eventually Liz and Cris joined us and we sound checked and stuff. Cris commanded quite a bit of attention as a 6 foot 6 cross-dressing nun, Liz had a bloody hammer, a bloody knife, and a severed head on a hook, Keith was silver with a rectangular scrotum, and I was an undead Lego man. All in all, not the usual Saturday night.

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As we started our first set around 9:15 the crowd started to filter in. It was starting to be good times but then we were afraid we would cut into the next act’s time so we cut it a little short. I loved getting a warm-up set like that. It was really nice and I think it set us up well for the closer.

Speshul K, the first rapper I’ve ever seen wearing a pink bathrobe on stage, did a set after ours, and then Koo Koo Kanga Roo got up and turned the whole place into the weirdest Saturday morning kids show you’ve ever seen. There were zombies everywhere, and a rainbow parachute, and a big sign, and lots of dancing, and pumping beats, and comic books, and Jello brain molds, and cake, and the place really got going. So much so, in fact, that I worried about going on and losing the crowd. The bar was set absurdly high. We had our work cut out for us.

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We started off with Poison by Bell Biv Devoe, and any doubts I had were quickly erased. The crowd was raucous. They loved us. They were singing along, dancing, loving everything. They stayed even though it was the midnight set. Cris was amazing, Liz and Keith and I were tight, and every song we played seemed to go better than the last one. By the time we finished with Jeff Buckley’s “Lover You Should’ve Come Over” and Komeda’s “Boogie Woogie Rock n Roll” I was in heaven. It was the most fun I could remember having playing a set. We had a big on-stage group hug and there were tears and it was just…

It was one of those moments you remember for the rest of your life.

It felt like the entire band was leading up to that.

I’ve played music my whole life, and disdained cover bands, and this was truly special. Standing on stage, in a group hug with a robot, a zombie slayer and a nun in front of a room full of drunken zombies, dressed as a Lego. Not something I could have foreseen.

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I’ve got a lot of memories from this year, but this one is gonna stick.  We were Fistful of Datas.

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But lest you think this is goodbye…  Fistful of Datas isn’t over. A parting gift to us from Cris was an introduction to another singer, Mike, who will no doubt be amazing as well. But I think it’s safe to say that Chapter 1 of the story of the band is written, Chapter 2 is just starting, and I no longer hate cover bands. At least, not this one.

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