—Rest in Peace, Robin Williams.
July 21st, 1951 - August 11th, 2014
Thank you for bringing joy into my childhood and life with your voice and acting. Thank you for your contagious jokes, your wacky impersonations, and amazing acting. Thank you for making my childhood experience better, and thank you for bringing joy to those even though you battled with your own joy. If only you could have known how much you’ve impacted people. Your life work will live on, and you will never be forgotten. I know I won’t forget you. Thank you for helping me whenever I felt sad and having a film for every mood. Gone, but never forgotten.
The iPod, like the Walkman cassette player before it, allows us to listen to our music wherever we want. Previously, recording technology had unlinked music from the concert hall, the café, and the saloon, but now music can always be carried with us. Michael Bull, who has written frequently about the impact of the Walkman and the iPod, points out that we often use devices to ‘aestheticize urban space.’ We carry our own soundtrack with us wherever we go, and the world around us is overlaid with our music. Our whole life becomes a movie, and we can alter the score for it over and over again: one minute it’s a tragedy, and the next it’s an action film. Energetic, dreamy, or ominous and dark: everyone has their own private movie going on in their heads, and no two are the same….Theodor Adorno… called this situation ‘accompanied solitude,’ a situation where we might be alone, but we have the ability via music to create the illusion that we are not.