stop romanticizing mic dropping… damage to sound equipment is no joke
Modern stage microphones for concert use are actually designed specifically with mic dropping in mind. When the move started to become fairly popular amongst performers back in like the early 90’s manufacturers started making their products more durable so that sound technicians didn’t have to buy a new mic every concert. The biggest concern most sound guys have when mic dropping is concerned is actually the feedback that’s going to be coming from the mic when it hits the ground. That’s why you always see the performers hold the mic out for a second before they actually drop it, to give the dude at the soundboard time to mute!
thank u sound technician side of tumblr
Tag Archives: MIC DROP
Past all the casting rumors and the questions of adaptation around the upcoming Vampire Chronicles reboot (seriously the second book doesn’t have an ending and the framing device relies on the first book, WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO), the thing that makes me most exhausted is thinking about all the straightsplaining that’s going to come out of the woodwork. Again.
Just thinking about all the exciting FLAVORS I could sample.
Like, you’ve got your Vanilla Queer Erasure. “Lestat and Louis were just friends raising their adopted daughter platonically!”
Your Rum Raisin Biphobia. “Lestat is clearly gay/straight, and the other people he’s expressed an interest in don’t count!”
The daring That’s Not What That Term You’re Borrowing Means But Nice Backbending Pistachio. “Well technically they’re not gay because their dicks don’t work, so really they’re all asexual!”
The heady and new Sour Grapes Whinging. “They just put in all this gay stuff to pander to the ESS JAY DUBBYAS, this is such bullshit.”
And then I realized, MY GOD, I’m only thinking of the audience! There might be so many new flavors on the crew side!
There’s your Bitter Limoncello Queerbaiting. “Oh, well we never SAID they were in love. Wow, those fans sure are taking all the deliberately candlelight looks of longing and pledges of devotion the wrong way, huh?”
The soggy cone of specifically invented hetero love interests or cisswapping for the sole purpose of making a queer love interest straight (really a bear to order, that one, but some folks just put in the extra effort). “I thought Nicola was really layered, didn’t you?”
Selective Dead Gays Mint Chip. “It was so sad when Nicki died – Lestat loved him so much! Good thing he found those conspicuously only lady love interests in the present!”
The ever popular Investor Dodge Sherbet. “We just weren’t sure audiences would invest in a story with a male/male love story, and it’s such a big blockbuster movie. MAYBE NEXT TIME.”
The above also comes in the subtler, more crafted flavor known as Conveniently Cut for Time Soft Serve.
Also if you’d like some, this salt lick is really quite delicious.
Did you know that the Romans used lead in their food? Also in cups, bowls, and for various other things. Not only was it highly poisonous but it caused hallucinations and (tehe) sexual arousal. Perhaps Marius could go into more detail?
While I appreciate your historical attention to detail, I’m afraid this doesn’t really apply to me, my dear.
What a strange question to ask our dear Lestat. My great city existed well before even his ancestors were conceived, and thus I doubt he would be a very knowledgeable fount on this subject.
The people of Rome knew that lead must be dangerous, as we were not blind to the ailments that seemed to follow those who worked in casting lead. They breathed in the caustic fumes and were left pallid and sickly, and from this we gathered that lead must be rather unwholesome.
Although lead was widely accepted as a dangerous metal, many still believed it to be necessary in some aspects. It was used to line aqueducts and fashioned into pipes–nevermind that clay pipes were entirely more sought after, even by those such as myself who were rich enough to afford otherwise. Medicines and cosmetics as well were made of great quantities of lead, despite the wide belief that it should not be ingested directly if at all possible. Some greats such as Pliny and Columella argued that in leaden vessels was the only way to prepare Defrutum, a sweet syrup used to make products such as wine more desirable.
Many attest that a rise in lead poisoning stemming from the Roman’s love for wine was perhaps a cause of the empire’s decline, though there is little evidence to support this. It is true that lead poisoning would have greatly impacted the sperm count of adult males, or the ability to carry a child in females, and even would have been fatal to the children themselves–as wine was the predominant drink for all citizens, regardless of age–but this means very little when you realize the people of Rome had no interest in rearing children, or even marriage. In fact, it came to a point where the people were so focused on a childless state, that Agustus himself attempted to intervene, much to no avail.
As for the sexual arousal, I can only speak from personal experience. My sex drive was what I assume to be average for a man my age. I sought a wife early on, I sought to make love, and I sought to be loved. I never happened upon any urges that were out of the ordinary, or struggled with a drive for physical contact more mighty than I could handle–though, some of those who read Armand’s poor account of Venice may greatly disagree. Of course, by then my need for mortal sexual intercourse had long been dead, and I base my words solely on the desire for something greater: the sharing of immortal blood.
*mic drop*
And here, the biggest lesson of them all, and a summation of all the problems.
You are in the way of your story.
Hard truth: writing is actually not that important.
Writing is a mechanism.
It’s an inelegant middleman to what we do. It’s a shame, in some ways, that we even call ourselves writers, because it describes only the mechanical act of what we do. It’s a vital mechanism, sure, but by describing it as the prominent thing, it tends to suggest, well, prominence.
But our writing must serve story.
Story does not serve writing.
This is cart-before-horse stuff, but important to realize.
Listen, in what we do there exist three essential participants.
We have:
The tale, the teller of the tale, and the listener of the tale.
Story. Author. And audience.
That’s it.
You are two-thirds of that equation. You are the story (or, by proxy, its architect) and the teller of the story. The telling of the story is most often done through writing — through that mechanical act, and because it’s the act you can sit and watch, it’s the one that is used to describe our role. I AM WRITER, you say, and so you focus so much on the actual writing you forget that there’s this other invisible — but altogether more critical — part, which is what you’re writing.
So, what happens is, early on, you put so much on the page. You write and write and write and use too many words and too much exposition and big meaty paragraphs and at the end all it serves to do is create distance between the tale and the listener of the tale.
It keeps the audience at arm’s length.
Quit that shit.
Bring the audience into the story. This is at the heart of show, don’t tell — which is a rule that can and should be broken at times, but at its core remains a reasonable notion: don’t talk at, don’t preach, don’t lecture, don’t fill their time with unnecessary wordsmithy.
Get. To. The. Point.
Chuck Wendig, Five Common Problems I See in Your Stories (via vickiexz)
*mic drop*
I-want-my-IWTV 