Psychotic Reactions Go Bang

Originally posted on the AVNation.tv blog - July 22, 2013

This is Part 2 of the strange trip that Infocomm 2013 was.  It is highly recommended that you read Part 1 here  

I am unclear as to how I got here, ‘all these tubes and wires...’ to paraphrase Mr. Thomas Dolby.  The cottonmouth and clammy skin are indications of a night lost to the reveries as at least a witness, if not a participant, in the annual show ritual of parading half-consciously through the hotel lobbies. These indicators are only second to the throbbing of my temples and the insistent buzzing in my ears.  I feel as though I attended an all-night ‘silent rave’ with my headphones blaring Rancid covers of Mel Torme songs.  All apparent signs indicate that I made it home of my own accord. I last recall that there were great rumors afoot that Apple’s ecosystem had usurped the show with an empty hall and a single booth.

Great Armies were gathering.

My plan (or is that pram? My notes are a mess here) was to arrive early and report firsthand on the carnage. I could see it through the haze of the morning Floridian thunderstorms, ritual bonfires, burnt Ozone, and cannon smoke. Just now, I have the flash of memory of entering the hall bemused by the wake-like quiet and the low rumble of mulling crowds.  Rubberneckers, i thought,  members of the international society of Schadenfreude affectionado’s more likely - these bastards show up in every crowd.  I  was being paid to be here, quelling the nausea is a job hazard, one steels the self to take it all in and report the horrors to the sedate civilians. I made steadfastly toward the exhibit floor doors with the intent of getting a first view and a keen determination to inhale the acrid smells of battle mixed with the fresh linen scent of the pod people of Cupertino.  

Upon opening the door, there was the blinding light from the show floor, which caused me to reach out blindly, bumping into the grunting crowd similarly afflicted, all of us groping for a center with mad abandon, willing our pupils to dilate. White lab mice lay strewn before me, shuddering in disoriented jerks. Given a few more moments, I am sure my bearings would have returned, but then came the enveloping cacophony - a demonic surround sound on steroids - it was like Barry Bonds and Theo Kalomirakis merged V’ger like into Vladimir Gavreau’s love child.  The effect forced a full cerebral shutdown until the mass of stimuli could be processed.  As I began to fade into black, the air was a knife cut thick with hopeful chatter, morning coffee, eggs, a hint of mint, and latex -( While I will not dare to presume the reason for the last item, this is a trade show after all). All of these things I could literally pull out of the air like notes of music to a synesthete.

When I awoke, quivering under a  thermal blanket and warmed under the hot lights of the Chauvet booth an epiphany issued forth from the Jorge Luis Borges thousand typewriting monkeys in my head. No war had been waged, no remarkable battle, no charging light brigades - This is a Psycho-Billy Circus complete with over joyful slap revered guitars. Psycho-Billy, the punk of southern garage bands, mixing Johnny Cash with MC5 and a dash of B movie horror thrown in for spice - rock n’ roll’s sideshow barkers. To the uninitiated or those whose little grey cells are in need of more electrolytes, the show floor is an assault on the senses. It would seem that any manufacture of a device that can produce noise has ascribed to the late Phil Ramone’s ‘Wall of Sound,” accompanied by more flashing, blinking, pulsating lights that should be accompanied by photosensitizer warnings.  One does finally become accustomed to the sensory assault, but when the opportunity arises, leaving the floor into the lesser volume of the lobby can be just as disorienting, causing one to lose footing in a punch-drunk head space as the Cochlear nerve wiggles in its own version of a grand Mal seizure.  

But we were talking about what was on the inside, eh?  Just what were the presenters hawking Baptist ministers like from the company pulpits?   Oddly, there did not seem to be an overriding single theme this year; we’ve been trained to expect this, just like the film studios pumping out varying flavors of the same film over the summer and holiday seasons.  Is it really a coincidence that six studios released a film based on kids' games like Candyland and Chutes and Ladders?  The show floor did not seem to have this overly generic commonness, an associate of mine called it ‘evolutionary not revolutionary’. This, I think, hits the nail on the tail of things. The show itself was tremendous, but technology-wise, the industry has entered a tempo of sostenuto. 3D is dead (hooray!), but 4K is not like Savior-Faire (not everywhere), Apple - Apple everywhere, but some droids are creeping in; there is not so much vaporware there, but TIO might just be giving it a go, and Microsoft may be bleeding heavily from Surface losses, but Linq is inside everything (The song of HD-BaseT they sing).  Of new note is the oddly fascinating use of QR codes as a control and documentation interface by AMX

There is, not to put too fine a point on it, no bees in my bonnet as we watch everyone expand their product lines into places that overlap and hip-check current (soon to be former?) partners.   I am eagerly looking forward to next year's show, where we may witness a true Alaskan ‘Breaking’ party as the Ice cracks in the warm sun of Lost Wages, NV.   

CTS a Coxonian Debate

This is a reply to a Mark Coxon post after a discussion on Red Band Radio podcast at Infcomm 13.

To begin with, apologies in using the PhD equals medical degree relationship - the Red Band show was recorded on the last day of Infocomm 13 and I was suffering the waning mild effects of several days limited sleep and the river o’ libations we consumed only a mere few hours prior. The example still holds, just because one has a PhD (or an MD for that matter) does not mean that the individual will use the logic and information gained in an honest way. MD’s can have a licence to practice revoked but not the title -(both can insist on being called doctor as they have earned a degree which can only be ‘revoked ‘ if it could be proven that he or she obtained it by false pretenses (i.e. cheating).

In a similar fashion I have always seen CTS as a general benchmark of knowledge for the Audio Visual Industry. The achievement of passing the test shows an understanding of how practical systems work, the general theory and fundamentals of the technology and an understanding of the general practices of our business. This is your ‘degree’. Like the levels of degree in higher education a CTS is the associates degree while CTS-D and I are the Masters degrees. An inherent code of conduct is expected from dedicated professionals based on the knowledge gained and proven.

I can relate the difference in quality employees the process of studying and passing the CTS can, and does, have. During my tenure with a major manufacturer of automation and distribution equipment the policy of having all support folks CTS qualified was implemented. This was met with obligatory grumbles and kvetching but proceeded nonetheless. The policy stated that all new technical support employees needed to gain their CTS within Ten days of the first day of work (back when it was only a on computer test). Essentially one was payed for ten days of study and to take the test. Fail? You were handed walking papers. Those who were already employed were given a schedule where in office time was provided to study and test. We had a good number of the support staff, including sales reps and administrators CTS qualified in just under a year. Did it mean that all were competent to be sent out in the field to program and install? No, but their knowledge was expanded and therefore awareness of the proper methodology instilled. We found that people made better, and often more ‘ethical’, decisions more consistently. The knowledge is the power and motivator.

Regardless, lazy and despicable folks are unavoidable no matter what level of omnipresent oversight and enforcement one attempts to implement. Audits more often than not do not catch the truly deceptive and lazy individuals/ organizations, we do, the clients do.

AQAV (based on the ISO model) appears to be more a standardization of process than continuing education and utilizes the omnipresent oversight threat to ‘insure’ application and commitment to following the preordained set of standards. Is ISO workable in an industry where the majority of companies are those with under 100 employees? Perhaps, but the cost of certification, (not to mention pre audit, training ) and annual audit are not to be taken lightly. The link you provide has the wonderfully worded statement “Once certification is attained, the only annual costs would be a reasonable fee for the surveillance audits” , the emphasis is mine. While the cost of ISO certification does slide with the size of the company certified the return on investment takes much longer. I have seen a good deal of discussion about the percentage of companies who were able to recover ISO 9000 implementation costs, most site the McGraw-Hill/Dun & Brad-street studies which state something in the order of 50% in Three years or less. For something which requires the extent of effort and vigilance this is not a very good number, especially when applied to current economic model of AV Integrator. The big boys and manufactures might be able to swallow this but not so the smaller partnerships and mom n’ pops.

To be clear, I am not against the concept entirely but my, albeit limited, experience with folks who are, have been and are maintaining ISO certifications do so only because it is required for specific types of contracts and is considered overbearing and clunky and not really a motivator to responsible practices. Does the AV Industry really need such oversight? Is the argument really stating that one cannot expect to be good without the threat of damnation? If true then we are already lost.

 

Ground Control to Major Tom

At this moment in 1969, one of the most remarkable achievements in human history happened.  That the day is not a national moment and that many do not know or even care is a testament to the depths to which we have let our nation fall. 

In the last decade science has suffered a prolonged and misguided attack by those who do not like the questions it asks, the findings it discovers, and by those who refuse to see the benefits to humanity despite the relative costs. 

 
This is a picture of my two boys (Gonzo and Rooster) with a poster my father was given while working at Grumman (maker of the LM or Landing Module) and the Apollo project. This hangs proudly in their room over the bookshelf with books on science, history, and how things work.  We need to be more supportive of science and the arts, not just the three R's, or else we will fall from grace by our ignorant hands. 

 *The squiggles on the poster are the signatures of all the folks at Grumman who had a hand in making the LM. The negatives went to the moon and back. 

100th Tour De (New Beginnings?)

So, Chris Froome has effectively won the 100th Tour De France.  While there is one stage left, there has been a long-standing Gentleman's Agreement that the last stage is to not be competitive until the main Peleton has reached the outskirts of Paris.  From there it is a sprinters free for all to determine who will be the sprinter champ.   

I, like many I have learned from conversations about the event, can and do watch the event live and the two or three additional times NBCSC rebroadcasts it throughout the day.  It is just that evocative. The tradition is part of the charm and draw - it is one of the very few sporting events that I want to someday see live ( the others are a World Cup final, an F1 Race and a final Stanley Cup game).   Another tradition is the rampant doping.  After the crushing revelations of the past year(s), I am pinning my hopes that this is clean.   

In this state, one suspects winners of ill-gotten gains to be proven innocent later.  If Chris Froome is found to be doping, I will have to think thrice before once more thrilling in the spectacle.  

 

The Spector

Originally posted to the AVNation.tv site on  June 12, 2013

Infocomm is many things, in particular it is about finding solutions. There are a multitude of distractions, from social engagements to parties and tangential floor shows, but solutions are our ROI.  I come here to find answers, to find the face of exuberance.  It is in the faces of the attendees, the exhibitors even the Infocomm folks who are more buoyant than ever about this show and industry growth.   Yet, I have some questions as there is concern among the technocratic digerati.

There is a possible specter hanging low like a great Wisconsin fog just over the next hill, and it is making folks ride the edge of hysterics and short slide into madness – peeling off clothes as they run down the aisles foaming at the mouth.  It hangs in the air all around us, making folks tense, taught as a bow string.  To get a sense of just how close to gnashing of teeth and tearing of hair the attending are I made my way to the hotel bar for a snifter of inspiration and solace making.  I saddled up to a robust and jolly fellow wearing the logo of a western integrator, his cheeks roughed from being unaccustomed to the  Southern coastal humidity and the empty glasses before him.  He was mopping his brow with the desperate moves of a man not wanting to but subconsciously unable to stop, with his pores opening to the size of dimes.

Laying a Twenty on the bar, I hailed the bartender for a Makers – Neat.  My associate, now switching between dabbing his neck, then his brow and back again, looked over at my drink, stating, “ Mighty Heavy for this weather, no? It could put you into fits with this heat. You should be by the fireplace in a wool jacket with that sort”. I witnessed a flash of rash stripe across his face at the thought, and he dabbed his neck even more frequently. In front of him stood a tall glass with lime, the condensation from the ice beading up on the length. My friend eyed the drink with an expression that showed the internal debate of whether it was to quell the demons or bring them forth.  “Considering a bit of prognostication, are you?” I said. I could see it in his eyes – obviously, he had been reading up on the mystics and their elixirs.

“I see your question, my brother”, I offered. I knew the feeling, the temptation to twitch at the anticipation of the answer which drives us into madness.

I leaned in close to him, shifting my eyes to both sides of the bar, ensuring we had room to talk. My lips nearly brushed his ear as he leaned down to meet me.  “I have it on good authority that the hall is empty – sans one booth with Apple and a smart screen manufacture.  Apparently the Apple developers conference broadcast brought the building to a halt, silencing the hall like a punch to the gut.   Then came an announcement of a smart TV with all the functions needed to control the home, with anticipatory gesture interpretation – you only have to think about making a gesture, and the monitor knows it. 

Well, this last bit took the knees out of folks – it was like watching Neil Armstrong take that final step off the ladder so quiet and still were the sales folks, techs, and assorted company representatives”.  My bar-mate’s jaw began to hang low and he caught himself. I continued, “One would have expected a shrill wail from those on the floor, like the purported recordings of the damned by a Siberian oil drilling company punching a hole into Hades, which Art Bell broadcast on his ‘Coast to Coast’ show.  But the reports are that after a short pause, a universal acceptance set in, and instead of continuing to build up, started to disassemble the whole lot, a week work swept clean in less than a day.”

I could consider my friend's expression as I leaned back to take another pull of my whiskey. His Eyes were just about to pop out of his head, and his jaw was making slight side-to-side movements as if in an attempt to speak.  “I, I…. I thought…. I knew this day was coming, but everyone said we had time.” he trailed off, “so soon, so, so soon.” he looked up straight at me, “ What now?”.

“Well,” I began, “ I hear a word that the Maker Movement folk are raising an army consisting of homemade tanks from discarded Oldsmobile Delta 88s, Trebuchets from the remains of the Junk Yard wars show, and some Tube drive Turntables.  AP just tweeted that a squad of steampunk are nearly at the convention center grounds,  machines hissing while the clackers report positions and tactical movements awaiting the arrival of the North Carolina Maker Faire Battalion under the direction General Jonathan Danforth”.

The expression on my friend's face was full of conflict – the ole fight flight debate was churning around inside him.  He reached for his drink and swallowed it whole in one swift gulp – the ice long since melted in the Orlando sun.  Then a calm washed over him and his eyes narrowed. “ Be dammed if I am not going down without a fight!”.  He shook my hand and turned his heel, muttering about assembling a Myth Busters-inspired rice paper armor.

All of this occurred last night, and now, in the haze of too many O’ clocks without sleep, I am preparing to head to the show floor to see whether it is true.  Reporting from the front lines…. I am your intrepid reporter.