- Joined
- Jul 26, 2008
- Posts
- 11,026
I have no truck with floppy disks.
When I was in junior high, my stepdad found a box of his cassette tapes from when he was younger with all his music on them. My memory in general is shit, but I remember this day with absolute clarity. How happy (uncommonly happy, as he was usually a very stoic guy) he looked as he took a tape from the box and put it in the stereo tape deck. The sound that came out was a garbled warbly mess. I watched all the happiness drain from his face like someone pulled a stopper in his neck or something, replaced by a combination of horror and a sadness I don't think I could ever adequately describe, as he realized the last time he listened to this music years ago was -- unknown to him then -- the final time he would ever hear it. He did not say a single fucking word, but looking around the room, I could see that this profound pain had infected everyone present, and we all looked like a boulder was pressing down on our chests, making it hard to breathe. I was thirteen, but I remember very clearly in that moment coming to the conclusion that cassettes were the fucking devil, and I would go back to record albums until something better came along.
I also around that time had an Adam Ant tape I listened to so many times, it broke in the player. Fuck cassettes, and if you like them, fuck you, too.
I want to turn this into a leaflet and hand it out on the corner in front of 7-Eleven.