Have you ever been listening to Rainymood and thought, “Yeah, this is good … but it would be nice if I could customize the sound more, or if there was a little more choice.
MyNoise is a customizable sounscape looper with so many options, even within each soundscape. So say, for instance, you really love rain sounds when you write or study or relax. Anything. I know I’m a big fan of rain sounds. They have a page for that.
But say you like really high, pattery rain, and LOTS of low thunder. Here’s where MyNoise really stands out: you can customize that. See those sliders with all the cute colors? That is your equalizer. You can adjust the levels based on what you want to hear more and less of. Here’s how it looks when you want high, pattery rain and low, rumbly thunder:
But say rain isn’t really your jam. Say you want something a little more ambient, a little more background noise-y. Something with people. Well, they have customizable coffee house chatter that even has the levels listed for things like “kitchen,” “babble,” and “table”:
Or say you miss the ocean.
Or say you miss your cat.
Or say you miss your spaceship.
Or say you miss the dungeon where you and your team of scalawag adventurers used to explore and face off against, say, dragons. In the dungeon.
This site is seriously so helpful, and those are just a fraction of every kind of sounscape the site has to offer. The best part is that if you want to layer it with music (for instance, I’ll layer a playlist + rain + coffee shop if the scene I’m writing takes place in a coffee shop), you can adjust the master volume, meaning all of your layers stay at their respective volumes, just louder or quieter.
Enjoy!
OH MY GOD
Y’ALL I JUST STARTED USING THIS TODAY BUT THIS HAS BROKEN THROUGH MY WRITER’S BLOCK LIKE NOTHING ELSE.
TRY IT. USE IT. LOVE IT.
Gonna try this later. Seems like an amazing great idea
You can also find a whole bunch of ambiance channels on his youtube channel - it’s a great place to start exploring some of the channels. My current favourite is the
Nordic Lakeside (Birds and Water • Soothing Waves)
My boyfriend is trying to explain cricket to me again. “He’s only got two balls to make 48 runs”, he says. The camera focuses on a man. Underneath him it says LEFT ARM FAST MEDIUM. A ball flies into the stands and presumably fractures someone’s skull. “There’s a free six”, my boyfriend says. 348 SIXES says the screen. A child in the audience waves a sign referencing Weet-Bix
The first time he showed me this I assumed he was pranking me
if people haven’t been exposed to cricket before, here is the experience. The person who likes cricket turns on a radio with an air of happy expectation. “We’ll just catch up with the cricket,” they say.
An elderly British man with an accent - you can picture exactly what he looks like and what he is wearing, somehow, and you know that he will explain the important concept of Yorkshire to you at length if you make eye contact - is saying “And w’ four snickets t’ wicket, Umbleby dives under the covers and romps home for a sticky bicket.”
There is a deep and satisfied silence. Weather happens over the radio. This lasts for three minutes.
A gentle young gentleman with an Indian accent, whose perfect and beautiful clear voice makes him sound like a poet sipping from a cup of honeyed drink always, says mildly “Of course we cannot forget that when Pakistan last had the biscuit under the covers, they were thrown out of bed. In 1957, I believe.”
You mouth “what the fucking fuck.”
A morally ambiguous villain from a superhero movie says off-microphone, “Crumbs everywhere.”
Apparently continuing a previous conversation, the villain asks, “Do seagulls eat tacos?”
“I’m sure someone will tell us eventually,” the poet says. His voice is so beautiful that it should be familiar; he should be the only announcer on the radio, the only reader of audiobooks.
The villain says with sudden interest, “Oh, a leg over straight and under the covers, Peterson and Singh are rumping along with a straight fine leg and good pumping action. Thanks to his powerful thighs, Peterson is an excellent legspinner, apart from being rude on Twitter.”
The man from Yorkshire roars potently, like a bull seeing another bull. There might be words in his roar, but otherwise it is primal and sizzling.
“That isn’t straight,” the poet says. “It’s silly.”
“What the fucking fuck,” you say out loud at this point.
“Shh,” says the person who likes cricket. They listen, tensely. Something in the distance makes a very small “thwack,” like a baby dropping an egg.
“Was that a doosra or a googly?” the villain asks.
“IT’S A WRONG ‘UN,” roars the Yorkshireman in his wrath. A powerful insult has been offered. They begin to scuffle.
“With that double doozy, Crumpet is baffled for three turns, Agarwal is deep in the biscuit tin and Padgett has gone to the shops undercover,” the poet says quickly, to cover the action while his companions are busy. The villain is being throttled, in a friendly companionable way.
An intern apparently brings a message scrawled on a scrap of paper like a courier sprinting across a battlefield. “Reddy has rolled a nat 20,” the poet says with barely contained excitement. “Australia is both a continent and an island. But we’re running out of time!”
“Is that true?” You ask suddenly.
“Shh!” Says the person who likes cricket. “It’s a test match.”
“About Australia.”
“We won’t know THAT until the third DAY.”
A distant “pock” noise. The sound of thirty people saying “tsk,” sorrowfully.
“And the baby’s dropped the egg. Four legs over or we’re done for, as long as it doesn’t rain.”
The villain might be dead? You begin to find yourself emotionally invested.
There are mild distant cheers. “Oh, and with twelve sticky wickets t’ over and t’ seagull’s exploded,” the man from the North says as if all of his dreams have come true. “What a beautiful day.” Your person who likes cricket relaxes. It is tea break.
The villain, apparently alive, describes the best hat in the audience as “like a funnel made of dove-colored net, but backwards, with flies trapped in it.”
This is every bit as good as that time in Australia in 1975, they all agree, drinking their tea and eating home-made cakes sent in by the fans. The poet comments favorably on the icing and sugar-preserved violets. The Yorkshire man discourses on the nature of sponge. The villain clatters his cup too hard on his saucer. To cover his embarrassment, the poet begins scrolling through Twitter on his phone, reading aloud the best memes in his enchanting milky voice. Then, with joy, he reads an @ from an ornithologist at the University of Reading: seagulls do eat tacos! A reference is cited; the poet reads it aloud. Everyone cheers.
You are honestly - against your will - kind of into it! but also: weirdly enraged.
“Was that … it?” you ask, deeming it safe to interrupt.
“No,” says the person who likes cricket, “This is second tea break on the first day. We won’t know where we really are until lunch tomorrow.”
And - because you cannot stop them - you have to accept this; if cricket teaches you anything, it is this gentle and radical acceptance.
i know this isnt aesthetics but THIS IS REALLY IMPORTANT!
i got an email from my mother (who is bi and proud) about this. australians will have 14 days to register to vote in the same-sex marriage postal vote. this means everyone needs to get on the electoral roll or check their enrolment is correct ASAP! students like myself are particularly likely to not be enrolled or have incorrect details on the electoral roll.
so if you are australian and you are over 18, please dear god, make sure you are on the electoral roll! if you are already enrolled, make sure your details are correct and up to date!
even if you arent australian, i would REALLY appreciate if you spread this!
im australian and i cannot marry my current partner without same-sex marriage being legal. i know without a doubt there are many other australians who are also unable to marry their partners too.
As I’ve said before, journalists perform the role of intelligence officers for OSINT products. The similarities are more clear when you examine the editorial cycle alongside the intelligence cycle, but we’ll leave that aside and look at what this view of journalists means for hackers.
Primarily, as a hacker, you will face journalist trying to elicit information about your activities, capabilities and intent. They will use this information to flavor and direct their narrative, part of the final product they disseminate. As a source, you have no control over the narrative, the message, that is being developed by the journalist. Your ability to maximize benefit and minimize harm from this process is entirely dependent on your interaction with the journalist. Coaching and preparation for this is usually called “media training”, which is essentially a suite of OPSEC skills.
A Short Course in Media Training
Vet your journo: you need to do a background check on the journalist, read some of their previous work, find out who they are working for, what they are writing about, and what agenda they are pushing. This is your opportunity to find out if you’re being setup as a patsy, dealing with an idiot, or engaging with someone who is knowledgable and sympathetic to your views. You can back out at this point with minimal repurcussions.
“Off the record”: [UPDATE: “Off The Record” (OTR) is an agreement between the journalist and the source (that’s you.) The journalist must agree to OTR up front before you start talking. This applies to the other “magic words” too. And even so, it is still just an agreement, the journalist is bound to uphold it only by their ethical standards. Anything you tell a journalist may be published.]
if you say “off the record”, the journalist is obligated not to include your name or what you say in their final product. This is an obligation, not a law, so don’t rely on it. However it can be useful if you want to inform the narrative, without appearing in it. Also useful are “background” and “deep background”, which both obligate the journalist to keep your name (and probably the information you provide) out of the final product. They’re phrases used to allow you to corroborate a story, for example, without being quoted or appearing in the story.
Get it in writing: try to get the questions for the interview in writing before hand. This will allow you to prepare answers with supporting data, or at a minimum prevent you from being ambushed with questions you aren’t comfortable with.
Answer in writing: if possible, try to do the interview over email, or another written medium. This should help to minimize misquotes as the journalist will be able to refer directly to your written statement.
Putting words in your mouth: if a journalist asks a specifically worded weird question that is basically a yes/no, they are trying to put words in your mouth. If you respond in the affirmative, they can quote you as having used that phrase. Always say no. Even if you agree, rephrase the statement to match what you want to say. Don’t let the journalist dictate your responses for you.
Stay on target: if you have a message that you are trying to convey (you should, why else are you talking to the media?), stick to it. Make sure that you emphasize again and again your core message. This is what “talking points” are about. Know what you’re saying, and keep coming back to it.
Watch your mouth: journalists can quote you with anything you say, so be careful what you say in their presence. If you don’t want them to be aware of something don’t mention it around them. Basic STFU OPSEC.
Those are just the bare minimum of media training basics that you should be familiar with before talking to journalists. Their desire to collect and publish information doesn’t mean that you have to provide it to them, but if you so choose, at least speak to them on your terms.
