In Stephen King’s book, Dreamcatcher, a character named Jonesy describes his memory warehouse to friends as a giant multi-story repository of a lifetime of subconscious memories. The movie adaptation brings to the screen an old, cluttered, but organized library where Jonesy retrieves memories from time to time for a variety of reasons.
Imagine a memory warehouse filled with music and that adequately describes how I view my electronic music collection. My electronic copy of Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon is just a a set of bits and bytes, it is the Original Master Recording vinyl version of the album I bought as a high school student at Stereo Lab in Columbus, Ohio, complete with the heavy clear plastic cover to protect the album art. The electronic version of Michael Stanley Band’s live Stage Pass recording is the double album I bought at Beautiful Noise off Deo Drive, here in Newark, Ohio. Bob Seger’s “Betty Lou’s Gettin’ Out Tonight” is the 45 single on the jukebox at Cassano’s Pizza that Jon, the owner, used to play loudly after closing while we mopped the place. Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto will forever be the copy of the recording my father owned. It was my introduction to Bach. The George Jones in my collection is a worn-out old cassette tape that my friend, Tim, gave me.
“Memory,” writes Stephen King, “is the basis of every journey.” My music collection anchors me to the memories of my journeys. I’ve “lost” my music collection a half dozen times since I converted it to a digital format. Electronic drives fail, computers crash, things happen. When I lost the collection this weekend, I considered switching back to CD’s, cassettes, and vinyl again. I have maintained my collection of CD’s and cassettes; I regrettably allowed my vinyl collection to be sold during a yard sale years ago.
My 160 gigabyte iPod convinced me to recover and rebuild my electronic collection. There is a certain comfort to carrying around 30,000 songs on a four inch by two and a half inch by one quarter inch device. If I want to play Mozart’s Piano Sonatas in the car, I spin the selection wheel and enjoy. A day’s worth of Bach is no problem if the iPod is charged. All The Beatles albums? No sweat. AC/DC, Ella, Frank, George, Bruce, and Lyle all live happily together waiting for the right time to trigger the right memory from my warehouse.
The recovery is 31% complete. By the weekend, my iTunes account will be operational. By next week, I’ll have my playlists rebuilt. Recovery is in process.
In quantum computing, qubit or quantum bit, is a unit of quantum information—the quantum analogue of the classical bit.
A qubit is a two-state quantum-mechanical system such as the polarization of a single photon: here the two states are vertical polarization and horizontal polarization. In a classical system, a bit would have to be in one state or the other, but quantum mechanics allows the qubit to be in a superposition of both states at the same time, a property which is fundamental to quantum computing.
Perhaps I should have uploaded this one to Bits & Bytes’ specific Tumblr account, but I’m still trying to keep a certain degree or order over there (I will post it when the time comes, I guess), so right now I’ll leave this here.
This is the english version of my farewell to Satoru Iwata. Nothing else to say, really.