
To convert sound and its idea to square waves is to change it at its core—to make it an imprint, a ghost. It is a process reminiscent of that of extinction; through it, once-life becomes an outline in cultural consciousness, to be filled in and given depth by impression and memory. This transmitter unites the two: the calls of the endangered California least tern, clinging to our San Diego beaches, play as hollowed tones, song and protolanguage compressed to bare frequency and intermittency. An intertwining of two byproducts, one of human technology, the other of suffering from its waste—growth and death as one. This intertwining is a foreboding. Yet, at the same time, these processes are not only a shell of their origins. They are undead and transformed anew.


Leave a comment