White noise is a random signal (or process) with a flat power spectral density. In other words, the signal's power spectral density has equal power in any band, at any center frequency, having a given bandwidth. White noise is considered analogous to white light which contains all frequencies.

Who am I?

Neo-hippie cinephile. Follower of the great Jim Morrison who once said "If the doors of perception are cleansed, everything would appear to man as it truly is, infinite."

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Heart to Heart

This is based on the following scene from Wes Anderson's Bottle Rocket. Of course, completely, different scenario.


Anthony and Mr. Henry are jogging along railroad tracks in
the warehouse district. Anthony wears a blue T-shirt and
shorts. Mr. Henry looks like a boxer in grey sweats with the
hood up and a crisp white towel wrapped around his neck and
tucked into his sweat top. He's wearing black Chuck Taylors.
They've both got smooth running styles, though every twenty
yards or so Mr. Henry rolls his shoulders and gives a quick
flurry of punches. An older woman rides a bicycle across the
tracks. She's not pretty, but she's got a strong face.
Pioneer stock.

Look at that woman. She's what?
Fifty? Fifty-five? But she hasn't
let herself go. I appreciate an
older woman who has a commitment to
her body.

So do I.

They watch her ride down the street.

Tell me something. What the hell
kind of name is Dignan?

I'm not really sure. I think it's
Irish. Or maybe --

I guess what I'm trying to say is
what the hell kind of person is
this Dignan?

What do you mean what kind of
person? He's a good person.

Sure, sure. He's a great person,
and I'd call bullshit on anybody
who said differently. But I wonder
if the kid has the goods
(taps his temple)
up here.
(long pause)
I don't think you're giving him
enough credit. I know sometimes he
doesn't think an idea through. He
gets too excited. But --

As far as I can tell he hasn't
thought his life through. He'd be
fine cutting my grass or parking my
car. But business?
(looks at Anthony)
You I can work with. You I could
groom. Dignan's not going to make it.

Anthony stops running. Mr. Henry stops ahead of him and
looks back, jogging in place.

Monday, November 03, 2008

Floydian Joker

The Lunatic is in my head. The Lunatic is in my head. That's probably why I want to do a little short about the Joker with Brain Damage playing in the background. It all started a week or so ago when I chanced upon Brain Damage on the radio. It was love at first, well, sound. Didn't know the song was called Brain Damage. Had to send a Morse Code across the Atlantic to Red and he helped with the name armed with only some amorphous information as words like "the lunatic" and "grass". Have been listening to it since then, trying to make sense of it.

Fast forward to the day after Halloween. The New York Film Academy grapevine had it that one of the acting students who I have worked with twice in the past already dressed up as the Joker and did a damn good job of it. Our next assignment is the Mood Film, where the story isn't really important and one needs to set the mood using the camera (visual stuff and all). To use an analogy I heard again recently, 2 times 2 times 2 made 16 in my head.

I don't have a script yet, but I have the actor booked with makeup and wardrobe for next week. The music is locked. All I need to do is figure out what the Joker will be doing. Torturing a little insect like an ant with fire is what I initially had in mind, but looking for an ant seems too trivial and flippant at the moment. Plus, it itches like a bitch when they get helpless and bite your giant fingers.