Creep Tapes Quotes

Translating how that latter fact came to life in the studio, engineer Chuck Zwicky explained from his own observations during the recording of the album that “the way that Prince’s music comes together has everything to do with how he views the individual instruments, and for example, when he’s sitting down at the drums, he’s derivatively thinking about Dave Gerbaldi, the drummer from Tower of Power, and that’s a real fascile and funky drummer; and when he plays keyboards, he’s thinking about James Brown’s horn player, on one aspect; and when he’s playing guitar, other elements creep in, because he loves Carlos Santana, and Jimi Hendrix, and this other guitar player named Bill Nelson, a rock guitar player from the 70s. And so these aspects all come together to make this unique sound that is Prince, and it’s not rock, it’s not funk, it’s not jazz, it’s not blues—it’s just his own kind of music. I remember there was one particular moment when he started playing this keyboard line, and I’m thinking ‘He can’t play that, that’s Gary Newman.’ And at that moment, he stops the tape, and turns and looks at me and asks ‘Do you like Gary Newman?’ And I said ‘You know, the album Replica never left my turntable in Jr. High School after my sister bought it for me. I listened to it until it wore out.’ And he said ‘There are people still trying to figure out what a genius he is.

Office and Classroom Tools—Have the child cut with scissors; use a stapler and hole puncher; draw with crayons and chalk; paint with brushes, feathers, sticks, and eyedroppers; squeeze glue onto paper in letters or designs, sprinkle sparkles on the glue, and shake off the excess; and wrap boxes with brown paper, tape, and string. MOTOR PLANNING Jumping from a Table—Place a gym mat beside a low table and encourage the child to jump. After each landing, stick tape on the mat to mark the spot. Encourage the child to jump farther each time. Walking Like Animals—Encourage the child to lumber like a bear, on all fours; a crab, from side to side on all fours; a turtle, creeping; a snake, crawling; an inchworm, by stretching flat and pulling her knees toward her chest; an ostrich, while grasping her ankles; a duck, squatting; a frog, squatting and jumping; a kangaroo or bunny, jumping; a lame dog, with an “injured” leg; a gorilla, bending her knees; a horse, galloping. Playground Games—Remember Simon Says, Ring-Around-the-Rosy, The Hokey-Pokey, London Bridge, Shoo Fly, and Mother, May I? Insy-Outsy—Teach the child to get in and out of clothes, the front door, and the car. With a little help, the child may become able to perform these tasks independently, even if it takes a long time!

Lake Mungo, Savageland, The Taking of Deborah Logan, Trollhunter, REC, The Blair Witch Project, the Hell House LLC movies, Gonjiam: Haunted Asylum, Cloverfield, Creep I and II, The Poughkeepsie Tapes, Afflicted… Okay, I’ll stop now.

Each week day I dropped the girls off to school at eight am, then worked solidly until I collected them from afterschool club at five-thirty, often returning to the Longing once they were in bed. I enjoyed Finn’s conversational tour of Lòn Haven, and occasionally his death metal tapes. Here, on Lòn Haven, I was untethered from the past. Everything I’d carried for the last fifteen years – the shock of my pregnancy with Saffy, the grief at losing Sean, and now, that terrifying phone call – was gobbled up by the ravenous tide. And witnessing the Longing transform, stroke by stroke, into something a little less knackered, its former glory beginning to creep back, was rewarding. I felt that, maybe, I could start again, too.

the meditation room in back. The main room has shelves of books on mysticism, spirituality, metaphysics, philosophy, Eastern religion, illustrated sex texts, mind-expansion through drugs; separate stands for the bestselling quarterly Psychedelic Review, hardcover and paperback volumes of Timothy Leary’s The Psychedelic Experience, and Aldous Huxley’s The Doors of Perception; long glass cabinets and lacquered burl tables stocked with recreational drug paraphernalia; bins of bootlegged tapes from the Dead, Hendrix, Cream, Jefferson Airplane, the Beatles, and Dylan; potted plants growing lush throughout—ferns, ficus, creeping Charlie, and philodendron.

Did you get the little package from me? It’s nothing like what you gave me, but it’s something.” “I did. I love the cookies, fucking good. I was kind of hoping you were going to slip a pair of panties in there for me, something I could hold on to when I fall asleep at night.” “I would never do that.” “Not even a little thong?” “No.” “Come on.” I smile at her. “Loosen up, babe.” “There is no way in hell I will ever send you panties in the mail. What if the package gets lost, then some creep is going to have my underwear hanging on his wall where he stares at it every night while gripping his crooked penis. No, thank you.” “There are so many things wrong with that sentence, too many to ask about, but I do need to know one thing.” “What’s that?” Her smile is so damn contagious. “The panties, how are they hung up on the wall? Duct tape? Push pins? Nail?” She doesn’t answer right away, just blinks a few times. Finally she asks, “What is wrong with you?” “I’m going to take that as duct tape.

When Ronald Reagan was a radio announcer, he used to call baseball games that he did not physically attend by reading the terse descriptions that trickled in over the telegraph wire and were printed out on a paper tape. He would sit there, all by himself in a padded room with a microphone, and the paper tape would creep out of the machine and crawl over the palm of his hand printed with cryptic abbreviations. If the count went to three and two, Reagan would describe the scene as he saw it in his mind’s eye: “The brawny left-hander steps out of the batter’s box to wipe the sweat from his brow. The umpire steps forward to sweep the dirt from home plate,” and so on. When the cryptogram on the paper tape announced a base hit, he would whack the edge of the table with a pencil, creating a little sound effect, and describe the arc of the ball as if he could actually see it. His listeners, many of whom presumably thought that Reagan was actually at the ballpark watching the game, would reconstruct the scene in their minds according to his descriptions. This is exactly how the World Wide Web works: the HTML files are the pithy description on the paper tape, and your web browser is Ronald Reagan. The same is true of graphical user interfaces in general.