How To Play Sliced Audio With Maschine Mikro In Logic

http://youtu.be/M3QiQfxRSaI Geekout alert starting in 5, 4, 3, 2...


So, recently, whilst making Unkillable Thunderchrist, I came across a problem, which took me four hours or something to figure out, so I thought I should make a little video showing how to do it, thus sharing my knowledge and making the world a better place.

What I wanted to do was play sliced audio with my Maschine Mikro's pads straight into Logic. Which is harder than one might imagine. The super short version is that you need to slice up your audio, then hit APPLY... but don't just click it, you need to drag apply to a new track in Maschine. You will then be able to trigger your sliced audio via the Maschine in Logic which is very ace and joyous.

The video I mention that shows you how to set up Maschine in Logic is by Altruwest, and comes highly reccomended.



My next video will be something that you can all get behind, or at least understand. My last one, which concerned the reaction to Prometheus and that Space Jesus theory, got mildly notorious and did 8000 views in a few days, becoming a hotbed of heated and intelligent debate, like:

You are a British hipster with bleached hair in a pink dressing gown, your argument is invalid.



Currently it has 49 likes and 49 dislikes, which is delightfully symmetrical and divisive.


People keep telling me that as people are talking so much about Prometheus, and going to see it, it must be good. This afternoon a sequel to that post about terrible Rob Liefeld drawings was published: 40 MORE Of The Worst Rob Liefeld Drawings. It dawned on me, half way through reading it, entirely fascinated by the Awful, that in that sense Prometheus is sort of the movie equivalent of Rob Liefeld. People will likely be debating its awfulness for generations, its flaws obvious and laughable to its detractors, while an eternal legion of apologists defend it as being being "pretty" and "tense", and theologically over the heads of the haters, just like Liefeld's Jesus comic, Godyssey.

In other news I just dined on my last WHEAT for the foreseeable future. Long time friends of the site might recall back in 2007 or so I steered off of the demon grain's path for a fine summer, in which time I developed near superhuman cognitive powers and lost my tummy and woke up dead early and saw great strobing beams of light emanating from pavements, and that sort of thing. Then somehow I fell back into bready old habbits, and I am now too big for my best suit, so it's back on the path of righteousness I go.


Emotionally Manipulative Video Raises $15 Million In A Week, Net Back In Don Studios

Invisible Children, the organization behind the emotionally manipulative Kony 2012 video I aired my extreme misgivings about recently bought in £15 million last week, after claiming to have sold 500,000 "propaganda action kits" at £30 a pop. What will they do with it all? “Thirty-seven percent of our budget goes directly to central African-related programs," says Jedidiah Jenkins, Invisible Children’s Director of Ideology, "about 20 percent goes to salaries and overhead, and the remaining 43 percent goes to our awareness programs. […] But aside from that, the truth about Invisible Children is that we are not an aid organization, and we don’t intend to be. I think people think we’re over there delivering shoes or food. But we are an advocacy and awareness organization.”

From the horse's mouth: The majority of the money will go on Propaganda. Although how they plan to top last week's Geobbelian feat is beyond me. A full blown Hollywood movie starring Angelina Joelie and Brad Pitt?

Much more over here, where Dr Oyston is doing a fine job of keeping abreast of much of the rottery. Also worth checking os Charlie Brooker's take, which raises the terrifying Evangelical Christian Manipulation angle I hadn't seen with my own eyes previously.


Internet is back on in Don Studios. To be honest, I was rather enjoying only having it on my phone. I liked having to go to the Hackney Pearl to work, and I liked how not having the internet forced me to use it wisely when I did have it, to plan what information and materials I would need to gather in advance, and to action those plans. (In the manner of a the leader of a group of humans.)

Not having the internet also revealed to me how horribly addicted I've become to social media. Whatever I'm doing, if there's any lag time whatsoever - say, rendering a file, or ending an email with an attachment, or loading  a web page with lots of big pictures on it - I find myself instinctively clicking over to Tweetdeck to see what's going on in my many columns of human activity, in the twitchy manner of a crack fiend. Even though I filter very careful, most of it is useless - how much can really be gleaned from multiple instances of 140 characters, over than a noisy overview? How much time, I wonder, have I really spent gazing at the live stream of visible human consciousness, these past few years? What might I have accomplished otherwise?

I know that without internet on 24 hours a day, I did an awful lot of very constructive work on my next Narrative Mixtape, and I also, seemingly perversely, read more meaty online articles. This was on my telephone, during particularly long rendering times. I don't know why I found myself more inclined to read articles I might have otherwise open tabbed then never got round to reading whilst on the computer, but so it went. I also read actual paper books, which is a lovely thing to do. You should try it, it is most soothing And invigorating. Magical, in fact.

Hopefully I will take something form this experience, like when I used to drink a  bottle of Jamesons every morning, then I quit booze for two years, and when I started drinking again it was in the true sense of what people mean when they say Moderation. Apart from the occasional accidental bender, obviously.

Incidentally, last I dreamed Lana Del Ray came round ton record a song. She was made up in full blackface, and she sat on my desk and was rude and not at all open to constructive criticism. What does it all mean? And what did YOU dream about?


Balance, Rudeboy

Bill Hicks would have been 49 today.

That's young. How tragic that Bill Hicks is not around and Jimmy Carr is. Do we have a contemporary equivalent for Bill Hicks? As I've mentioned previously, there's Doug Stanhope, within whom the Hicks is most definitely strong, but the hope seems lacking. Hicks balanced his righteous ire out with a pure and beautiful hope for a better world, a thing that illuminated work that otherwise might have been little more than #RAGE. Rage, whilst undeniably an energy, like it's pothead cousin anger, is ultimately limp without hope. You end up like Alex Jones or something. Not that I delight in casting aspersions upon the much maligned Texan professional bullhornist, but I had to stop listening to him some years ago when the two dimensional nature of his schtick became too much to bear. People like him had me with my head entrenched firmly in a sandpit of my own devisings for a long time.

I certainly got a lot less stick in the sandpit. I forget how much stick I used to get. Or sticks. Enough sticks to make a house that a pig could live in and a wolf could blow down. It is strange how one's beliefs can upset those that don't share them so much. I don't give a crap if you believe in a 5000 year old earth made by a white guy with a beard (although I do mind if you try and teach that to my kids as fact). But there they fly, those outrageous beliefs, charging around the globe at the speed of hate, pressing people's dislike buttons. I have no desire to press buttons. I don't say what I think because I want to upset people. I say what I think because I remember how it felt when it seemed there was nobody alive in the world that thought like I did.

I try very hard to be honest, and unfiltered, which is nigh on impossible, but it is a good goal. I am fully aware that by doing so I alienate some people, that I become uncool in the eyes of others, and I appear ignorant and foolish in the eyes of more. I am comfortable with that. I don't need everybody to like me. I think I was cool for about two weeks once about a decade ago, but it was pretty lame all in all. And as for appearing ignorant and foolish, I am ignorant and foolish. I wish upon bended knee with my fists in the air that I knew and understood more... If knowledge is an ocean, I am a cracked teacup, if wisdom is a cardigan, I am leaning to knit, and if there's an award for shitty metaphors, I am not going to get it because mine are just too durned pedestrian, AND THAT IS OK, because I am trying very hard in all areas, and have been for as long as I can remember, and I believe that one day I will reach the summit of the mountain.

(And I don't have anywhere to put an award anyway. Which means that I need to make some room, a little wisdom my old manager blessed me with shortly before I decided I didn't need his services any more.)

If I have any advice at all, it is throw your telly away, and don't read newspapers, especially the free ones they litter cities with. Now, I don't mind if you don't take that advice, nor would I call you an asshole in public (or private) for not doing so either. I might get annoyed with you for constantly tweeting about X-factor or something, but really I should know better than to look at Twitter when X-Factor's on, or I should file you away into a column I don't have to look at in Tweetdeck, or something.

I just this moment cast my eyeballs across Tweetdeck, and lots of people seem to be watching a show called Come Dine With Me. I have never seen it, bit I know that it's a reality-based TV show about food, and that there's a woman on it who's breasts "look like a boot." That last one I got from Narstie. Cheers, Narstie. Narstie was watching Jeremy Kyle earlier, from the stinky safety of his sickbed. That happened to me once too, in an Irish hotel, and it scarred me for life like 2 Girls One Cup. That pain will never leave me, and I have only myself to blame for letting it into my head, from which it has been drip-drip-dripping into my conscious and my unconscious ever since, like piss into a bog.

For the most part, it looks like we must all accept full responsibility for that which we let affect us, and for what we then choose to do with that infection. German pop star Nadja Benaissa got a two year suspended sentence and 300 hours of community service for knowingly infecting a man with HIV, while whole towns are coming down with archaic diseases because we're just too damn clean nowadays. I am not, as I have recently been accused, railing at politicians and and royals and newsreaders because of "perceived privileges afforded to them by their class". I want balance.


Mummy Knows Best: Twilight New Moon Review!

mummy1 New irregular feature alert! New irregular feature alert!

Yes, not only is she sorting out the legal nightmare that is LP2's Sample Situation, but I have now employed My Mother to write movie reviews for akirathedon.com. Zing! And when I say "employed", I mean "told to write something about the film she was going to see anyway", not, like, you know, paid her or bought the ticket or anything crazy like that. Come on!

So, without further ado, let's hear what My Mum and My Mum's Boyfriend Keith thought about the movie of the moment - The Twilight Saga : New Moon!

A Catastrophe Of Wolves

By Akira The Don's Mum, 2009

The Twilight Saga : New Moon is a teen vampire movie. From that description you may correctly deduce that its main themes are teenagers and vampires and/or teenage vampires; you would be right on both counts. You may also deduce from the word ‘saga’ that there is more than one Twilight movie. Right again. This is the second adaptation of an indeterminate amount of novels by an unknown (to me) author and similarly unknown (again, to me) producer. In fact I know very little of the technicalities and even had to google the title. I can even say with the utmost truth, that I do not know the names of any of the actors. So, if you want to know those things, you had better read another review [OK, we will, thanks - ATD].

The film is a continuation of the tale told in the first film, of ill-fated love between Bella, a teenage girl and Edward her erstwhile vegetarian vampire lover. ‘Lover’ is used here in the archaic sense of the word. A significant aspect of the story is that while there is passion a-plenty between the star-crossed lovers (who are, of course, studying Romeo and Juliet in class) there is no sex! Edward can never ‘lose control’ with Bella lest he gets carried away and devours her by mistake. Here we hit on the immense appeal of the story to its female fans; what better proof of ultimate romantic love than the lover who wants nothing in return? A super-strong, super-fast guardian angel whose only drawback is that he sparkles in the sun [This is the same reason you watched seven seasons of Buffy as well then, right? - ATD].

This much was the stuff of Twilight the first. For extra appeal New Moon adds to this a rival love interest in the form of a gawky Native American teen who overnight turns into a muscle-rippling, motorbike-hefting adversary to sparkly Edward. Other additional features include a trip to Italy to meet some hardcore vamps and a pack of giant CGI wolves. The wolves are the downfall of New Moon. Not for a split second are we convinced by these awful creatures. They instantly break the spell cast by the beautiful scenery, the tragic fairy-tale story and the fine acting of the cast. All of a sudden it is just silly. When the wolves are off screen we can begin to suspend disbelief but it is never the same. Back they come, looking like the big bloke from accounts dressed up for Children in Need.

I would like to say that if the saga continues, I will not be tempted by a third Twilight but despite the lupine irritation, I am glad that I saw New Moon but I think that is because I am a female and although I am not a teen, I was once…

Keith’s review:

“That was tedious; I wish we had gone to see 2012”.

Ahahahaha! Thanks guys! That was great! I think we all learned something very valuable there. I now know not to bother watching The Twilight Saga : New Moon as I am not a teenage girl, and so do my readerlisteners (aside from those who ARE teenage girls, or used to be, or would like to know what makes them tick, and actually, you DO know what makes teenage girls tick now, so say thank you and put a penny in the basket when it comes round).

So gang, what shall we send my mum to review next?

Comment Fail / Video Response Win

This is, like, the best video response to a comment ever.

In fact, it is the only video response to a comment I have ever seen.

But I bet it's the best one.

The creator of the video, the excellently coiffed Yorkandpomona, who's actually called Liz and lives in a rather beautiful part of America with some chickens and an Iron Man poster (the life!) left a comment on my ...Spring video, pointing out that,

"first day of spring 09 is march 20th:)"

And I posted the video on the 23rd. So I replied, eloquently enough,


Meaning that I had failed, spectacularly, but was excited anyway.

Sadly, Ms Yorkandpoma thought that I was calling her a FAIL and made that charming video up there.

So, I had to go back on there and explain that I was meaning to call her a FAIL at all, and accidentally deleted someone else's comment in the process, which will likely cause more offence in the general population. This, ladies and gentlemen, is why I usually don't go on Youtube comments... There is a curse on that place (probably something to do with Alan Moore), that turns even the most well meaning of conversations into huge scary wars.

Still, I learned something, and that is important. So thank you Ms Yorkandpomona, I am forever in your debt. And your hair is awesome.