Shortwave radios, as we all know, are time machines.
Not in any sense that H.G. Wells or Mort Weisinger or Ib Melchior might recognize. Rather, think of the ionosphere as a sort of plasmic Advent calendar with infinite variations. In the architecture of the sky, windows open and close, shape-shift and change coordinates; cross-beams splinter into kindling or gather into thick, verdant, untamed rushes. Space lacks fixity; no scene occurs twice. If there's any parallel to be drawn to those hoary old science-fiction legends, it's the notion that the more one wants to control one's trajectory, the more one loses it.
But, unlike all but the most dystopian of time-travel stories, the correct course of action when travelling on the wavebands is to give oneself over entirely to chance. You're never without reference points - frequencies, bandwidths, the needless distractions of date lines and time zones - but the epiphanies are in the unmooring, the throw of the rudder, the casting of the compass into the sea.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
air architecture and unmoorings
Shortwavemusic.blogspot.com, one of my favorite mp3 blogs, is back:
Posted by Matt Christie at 7:27 PM