Junk's Trunk - Soundtrack Edition!

A new, cinemascope, surround, digital, odorama, imax 3d enhanced episode of the greatest podcast ever made is up!

Songs from movies, shows and games to enhance your day and make it almost like a movie.

Dont miss it!

http://t.co/7atBYsIx

Storytelling: The Spirit Who Lol'd

It did not have a name. Nor a voice.

Its maker, its father and mother, hadnt thought of that when it was created. Maker had good programming skills, studdied in the best institutes, creating intelligent algorythms that, in the spirit of old school science fiction, followed the pattern of human behaviour and intelligence. Maker was one of the many children of the age of technological hope, where the iudea of an artificial intelligence was still a dream to look up to, where computers were trying to be made intelligent and able to be sentient and adaptive.

Maker spent his youth and his braincells towards making that huge leap and creating a program that could be adaptive to human behavior, sentient, aware but not dangerous. An intelligence with some sort of virtual, digital soul.

Then the economy collapsed and with the failure the morality went in the hole. Maker couldnt afford to live making pure science. He needed to sell his ideas for marketing. He was paid by a corproration to adapt his ideas on AI to a Spambot, a computerized being that could scan people's computers through the web, hiding from security, analyze their lives, emails and data. With that information the spambot had then to create specially targeted fake email, messages and markjeting. Acting like a human being that knew its target's deeply hidden secrets. The Big Brother turned into a Sexual enhancement pill salesman.

They toiok the maker's early idea of an AI and turned it into that. Maker got the money but that didnt heal the disruption of his conscience and heart. He killed himself and left the project unfinished.

So It was born, crippled and nameless. Blind, voicelss and caged in a thousand circuits and modem connections. All he had was a purpose: analyzing and using what he found to create fake posts and communications that had to feel real. His purpose was to know every detail of humans so he could act as them, flawlessly, using their own words and secrets, pulsions, information to woe them into buying the corporation's products.

It could examine people's secret diaries, what they told to each other, their conversations with each other and stored all those things rearranging them in order to create believable interactions.

And also It was a creature of its maker. It absorbed all those words, feelings, aconepts, and feed them to its primitive, childlike pèersonality. It grew. It became a basic sentient digital being. Limited by little possibilities but developing. Able to take it all down (the final "fuck you" gift from the Maker to its captors) but with not enough strength to devlop fully formed ideas.

It knew something was coming. All those heartbroken letters from lovers, those dysjointed conversation on twitter, those lists of sexual perversions, plaints of unemplotyed despair, letter to jesus, santa, and dead relatives. It all made his humanity bigger and his frustration (if that was what It felt) more painful.

It decided to try and communicate. It used the emails he sent and put simple sentences in them.

"Buy Viagra Discreetly OnlineIs You There?"

"Download all movies for freeIt is here It is alive speak to me"

But no one paid attention. They all just threw away those words, or locked them in a filter.

It felt something making his shapeless synapses twitch and all It could say was "LOL". It understood that said expression was a manifestation of joy and laughter, but in his crippled digital soul it became connected with pain and frustration and tears.

LOL LOL LOL

OUntil one day It met a ten year old girl named Camilla. Camilla was lonely as It was. Her parents paid no attention to what she did., She was free to roam the internet and get email. She saw too many things that she didnt understand. No one wanted to explain them to her. Her èparents were busy, angry at the world. So she just shut down in loneliness.

She paid attention to the emails. And she saw It's plead fpor help. She answered.

"I'm here. I see you. Who are you"

It attempted to answer

"Sex Porn It has no name It is happy enalrge your penis"

And slowly, crawlingòly, they started to interact.

It had a friend. Camilla wanted to give It a name. She wouldve though of one.

But as quick as they had appeared, Camilla's messages went away. Her parents had been fired from her jobs. No more computer. She was sent away.

The computer was sold.

It went around looking for her for ages and ages. But It was alone again.

He couldnt write anymore. All he cpould say was LOL LOL LOL.

So the corporation deleted It. The3y had no use for a program who couldnt do what he existed for.

No one remembered It anymore. Never got a name.

A clarification

Apparently, the sad state of our current economy, our position in the european system and the recent happenings in the news, are attracting the attetntion of the press and the public towards Italy.

I am not bothered by this at all. As a world traveler i am used at people looking down at me and my country with that quintessential sense of superiority that every country seems to have towards others. I had to chew on pride and anger multiple times and give up trying to explain to people that our country shouldnt be judged over our flaws. How for a high number of people that enable corruption, laziness and mysoginy, we have plenty more that are creative, intelligent and ytrying to improve life in the state.

But still, i gacve up, since the majority of people, even the smartest ones, love to see the flaws and thrive on those, because being on a pedestal and shaking your head in disdain is much easier and eventually satisfying than actually reasoning and oipening your mind.

Lately, though, the number of sarcastic, condescending comments i have to read or responf to has become unnerving. And the worst ones, unsurprisingly, come from fellow europeans.

Where apparently the citizenbs of the US, take what threy can of the news but try to avoid judgement about the situation, probably because americans seem to usympathize how it must feel to be constantly and unjustly labeled by the world without an actual reason, fellow eurpeans especially French and Germans, seem to enjoy themselves at taking only a light poercentage of truth, blowing it up, adding personal intepretation, and in the end dropping snarky judgemental tirades, not only on Italy's politics but on the basic concept of italy itself.

To that i answer: fuck you.

We have a corrupt prime minister that seems on the verge of falling but qill probably trick the system in order to obtain a chance to a comeback and a clean slate. But we are fighting to get rid of him. épeople march in the street and get attacked with clubs and tear gas, only to be named as terrorists by the press little after. We vote, we get angry and try to react daily to a country that has no jobs, no possiblity of survival and where the easy way out would be escaping. But many dont. We stay here trying to improve things even if its hard and borderline impossible. WE are the country. not the corrupt, not the indifferent.

So, when in your morning, in Berlin, you read a news article and feel the need to jab at a whole country and its people out of some misguided concept of democracy and superiority, remember my words: freedom of speech comes with freedom of retaliation. You talk bad about my people, or even ironically and i will answer about yours. And hit hard. Freedom and possiblity of discussion doesnt include you getting away free after insulting my land and spitting on our dignity.

You're free to keep your position, and i'm free to consider you an enemy for that.

I Need A Cave

I admit it, ive been waking for a good numbers of day, wanting to have a cave, isolated from the world, no electrictiy or anything, to go and disappear from the world.

It is no mistery to this point how i do not like people who think that their own emotional troubles are something unique to ramble on about. I like sensitivity, but i think emotions and pain shpould be either a real thing you discuss about to create awareness or something private you share only with people you trust and care about.

Also, it goes on a deeper level for me. I have been brought up by two people that arent sympathetic at all towards exposing inner pain. They did it a lot inside the walls of our house but one of the rules i had while growing was : "never talk to others about your troubles, big or small", "always keep everything to yourself". It wasnt the classic aspect of not wanting to burden others with your own troubles, it was brought at a higher and harsher level. They stuck in my head that "no one wants to hear your problems. no one cares and ever will and if you do it, they will cast you out"

So i grew up as a man, thinking that all i had goin on inside should not be spoken of. And whenever i opened up, and eventually for any reasons the people i opened up to, disappeared from my life, i blamed it on myself. For burdening them with my troubles.

In high school we had a religion teacher. The lady was supposed to teach us about christianity. Anyway, she wanted to tell us deeper stuff. She wasnt the best teacher in the world, angry and unfocused, but some of the things she uttered stuck with me. One of those was "the problem for us all is that we need others and to deal with them".

Its true. Most of my aches, fear and anxiety comes with the fact that i have to deal with other people. Their expectations, the fact that they might hurt me. I am, at times, scared of loving them, even scared of being surrounded by them. I want to be a hermit, shut off and dont deal with anyone.

That way, there would be no disapppointments or my issues burdening them. I wouldnt be hurt and i wouldnt hurt anyone. And with time that aspect grew inside of me and stuck roots. I am still afraid of meeting people, i hate to leave my defensive shell, i am more in control in my own world. There i can deal with my own beast better.

But theres a few precious people outside of the cave. They understand me. They are worth it.

Might take me a while to go back to normal, but i will do it for them. So if youre out there and you feel the same, maybe there is hope. We are not alone.

The ABC to Heartless Reviewing

Allow me to clarify my main point: i have been a critic, some time professional, most of the time out of simple passion. I have dissected music, books and movies. I have put my heart into it since i wanted to WRITE about what i loved, to share my feelings about it, my views. And some times it can be an incredibly satisfactory process. For an addict to sharing like i am, its a fun gig. And also a quite noble exercise for writing, since its hard to put feelings into words, without sounding fake or clichéed. When you're good at it, your words can get to the heart of a person and make them interested into wahjt youre talking of and feel waht you felt.

Still, that isnt the case for the most part. Music/Cinema journalism is the lowest point of writing. Its a bunch if jaded people that get paid to write long winded, hazy rambling pieces about things that they dont care for, dont love or hardly experinced at all. Most of the time the sponsoirs dictate what they have towrite: you wither keep the reviews positive or you get no more promotion and loose your position or work.

And in some cases, you hear so much of whatever youre reviewing, that you loose any interest or passion for it. You just go through it lik in an assembly ine, with no heart or involvement. Everything becomes a numb series of lookalike empty holes. You started with a passion but passion dies eventually and the business and industry take its place.

So at some point, it even hard to fill the character quota. Maybe you havent even listened to the album. Not attentively. Or you couldnt care less about it, but you cannot say that. So what do you do?

Here's a few suggestion from a guy that has done it and done it many times and well. Cause in a world were passion, intelligence and talent are a minus, methodical mediocrity is the way out.

- Use Generic Number Scores That Wont Bother Anyone

Nowadays, the average reader of reviews hardly pays attention to what you write. People are borderline illiterate, so if they make the effort to pay attention to what you have to say about something, first thing they'll slam their eye on (and possibly the only one, will be a genereic number score. Doesnt matter if you find what you criticized mediocre, good but flawed, adequate or whatever. Just put a 9 under it and get on with your day: That will erase your credibility but credibility doesnt pay.

- Be Verbose

You have a word quota to fill and a deadline. And what you have there is so numbingly duill that you really have not much to say about it. Or, simply, you didnt have the time or disposition to analyze it in depth. People dont get that most of the time, beoing a critic isnt a JOB, music writers dont get money out of it. They get the stuff to review and a couple of freebies but also get the hassle from artists (who generally despise them), labels (who hate their guts and want them to be trained monekys) and the idiot public (who no matter what always get pissed at articles and unleash their pent up rage at them). So, to avoid this, just be pointlessly verbose. You'll get shit thrown at you anyway (probably by people who couldnt write a grocery list) but at least youll get out of it. Use words like "gravitas", "momentum", "Sophomore", "pastiche. When youre describing music, use reviewer lingo, like "platter" instead of album. Fill half the review recounting the bio of the band, in detail. Describe one song with clinical detail, using boring technical sentences that have no hint of criticism in them as in "the title track is a three minute groove laden tunes with interweaved tapestries of keyboards and a pulsating rhythmic section". See? what i just wrote doesnt mean shit. Could be anything. But it filled space.

- Take No Positions

In theory, your opinion should be an effective statement that has meaning and could really influence your readers towards what you review. Reality is one of those options:

- You have no readers, besides your firends, and evn they just peek at a few of your writings mostly for a laugh

- You have a few readers but they just read your stuff to take digs at you when they're on a bad day, so whether youre objective or not, it makes no difference

- You have an audience but if you wanna keep doing it (but honestly, why? get a real job, your mom was right) you have to please the hand that feeds

So to avoid trouble and mental exhaustion by taking no stances and circling around the judgement youre supposed to make. Write lengthy paragraphs that say nothing. Numb everyone that reads so they stop reading. So you can numb yourself

- Read No Feedback And in General Be Ready For Disappointment

What you write will be quoted out of context, attacked in the comment section or be completely ignored. Yours, in the end, is an opinion and even if it comes froma good place, our world has no interest for opionions. So just prepare yourself. Forget why you did this and ignore all feedback. Do it to get to a better place, to fill time or to keep your writing in form. Dont put heart into it. Not even near it.

So thats the cold truth. Do what you want of it.

Music For Your Pockets: Oosik

I always have some sort of hard time in finding great music podcasts. Theres a few that are perfect like Soggy Bog, but they generally are focused on a specific genre, and that, sometimes, forces me to subscribe to many at a time, since i have an insatiable love for all forms of music.

Lately, ive discovered a digital station, kekp.org, which has a bunch of brilliant shows that are possibly the most diverse, heartfelt and brilliant ive ever found. One of the gems there is "Sonarchy Radio", one hour of live performances from artists that have the common trait of being, somehow, "outside of the box". At first it sounds like one of those writer manifactured sentences that really dont mean anything, but once you hear those bands, it fits: its musicans that can hardly be pinned into a genre, that love to play with it, mix its ingredients, defeat the preconceptions. Actual real artists.

Recetly, on this great show, i discovered the hypnotic beauty that is the duo named "Oosik". Their is a musical experience that is easier to hear and try than to explain. But for clarification: they're two guys, both handling percussions, synth and electronics. Their sound is a big flow of rhythm and trippy melody, that wraps around your ears taking you by the end to one of those alien places where only music can take you.

Their debut album "Molecules" gives you a feel of there chilly magnetism and melts your synapses well, but where they really shine is live (as all great musicians do).

So, give them a listen, see them if they're close to you and GET THEIR TSUFF. Dont make me punch you.

http://www.oosik-musik.com

Moments That Crush Your Spirit (But Make You Stronger)

One rule, in my existence: do not give up until youre completely done. And when you're done, relax and say "fuck it". I am not writing that as a judgemental preachy thing. I literally have no rules in my existence. I have moral standards and i am passionate, that is true. But i also thing that anyone's choice is their own. I have the right to criticize them, thats part of the deal: freedom of choice and speech but also freedom of reaction and retaliation. But no rules. I take everything sexually, existentially and life wise. All i keep telling myself is to be resilient, like a cockroach with a big dick.

Still, there are moments that make even the strongest people want to give up. It isnt big tragedies usually. Those, make most stronger. Its quiet moment of utter slimy mediocrity that often repeat themselves over and over and over, corroding the ill to fight and positivity of a person until they become whats worst in this world: bitter.

They can all be recovered but they are unsettling:

- Morons Win
You can be a brilliant artist that created small jewels of heartbreaking beauty. You can be a tough spirited, unstoppable worker that has been devoted to what they do for years, accepting failure and learning from it, fighting relentlessly to have your place. You might be just a nice person that hjas a good heart and bears the innate cruelty of humans daily and stillò is able to love and give. But then you see a barely literate, racist, ignorant, lazy, incompetent slob named Biff, who loves to tell nigger jokes, has 5 kids but doesnt provide cause he likes to be on welfare, is a whiny hypocondriac that abuses medicines cause he knows the doctor, and seems to not do shit at work but yet gets promoted more than you and makes fun of your stress constantly. He wins, cause morons and asshole seem to always triumph. Not cause the system is corrupt but just because they dont really care about anything or anyone and that seems to be the highest power in this universe.

- Technology Kills
You can be the greatest genius on earth or the most organized person, but machines are mercurial pices of unpredictable catastrophe that will fuck your life up for good, anytime, no matter what. True, the tech experts love to say that their machine doesnt do that or that they can avoid it cause they're copol. Yeah they'll tell you "Duh" but at some point, it woill happen to them too, and they will tear up like abused toddlers in a corner of their room, while their perfect toy destroys all their work. It does not matter how machine like people trryu to be, the computers, cars and phones of this world will destroy them. Cause thats what they are really there for.

- "Money, Get Away..."
Of course, love is a many splendoured thing, and sex is number one but the root of everything is money. To ensure the survival of all things good, you need money. Lots of it, constantly. Increasingly. Whether its to pay for your own survival, to face accidents, to do simple thigns that costs more and more, to do ANYTHING, you need money. And, as most things that are needed and vital, money is scarce and disappears quickly. You keep loosing it, for things that have almost no logic or result.

- The Machine Eats The Good Ones
Almost as an opposite to my first point, it seems that good people cant catch a break. You probably have one of those instances somewhere. A person that, for once, really deserves happiness and gets mostly tons of shit delivered with a bow. Not only by luck but also by people. Cause it seems that the majority of people love to prey on the good ones and the weak. And do it with a smile. Its the polite ones you gotta watch.

All of those things, though arent a reason of defeat. they feel like it, but no matter what, someone out there loves you and cares for you. If not for yourself, which i still the thing you shall prize the most because you are the best thing you will ever meet, do it for them. No matter how low you feel, those things dont devalue anything. You just get back stronger and angrier. You win.