Going from 16 bits, to 24 bits will lower the noise floor which, if you have the audio turned up enough, you can hear it ever so slightly. It's not a huge difference and you're not going to hear it in a typical song. It's definitely there, but it's already insanely quiet at 16 bits. An "Audiophile" on pristine gear may notice the slight change in hiss in a moment of silence, with the speakers cranked up - but that's about it.

As for pushing up the sampling rate, when you get beyond 44.1kHz, you're not really dealing with anything musical anymore. All you're hearing, if you're hearing it at all, is "shimmer". or "air". It sounds "different" and you might be able to tell which is which, but it's one of those differences that doesn't really matter in effect. A 44.1khz track can still make ear-piercingly high frequencies - the added headroom just makes it glisten in a really inconsequential way.

This is coming from 17 years of music production. I've gone through all of this, over and over again, testing myself, trying to figure out what is and isn't important.

At the end of it all, I work on everything in 16bit 48kHz - I record audio files in 24 bit 48 kHz - then export as 16 bit 44.1kHz. I don't enable dither anymore. I don't buy pro-audio sound cards anymore. I don't use "studio monitors" anymore. I just take good care of my ears and make music now.

Tags for this video have been changed from 'zuzana, fat assassin, workout, exercise, sweat, glistening, breathing hard' to 'zuzana, fat assassin, workout, exercise, sweat, glistening, breathing hard, bodyrock' - edited by xxovercastxx

>> ^gwiz665:

Bukowski wrote that? Huh, guess I should reevaluate my position on him.


This is one of my favorite short stories of all time:

http://plagiarist.com/poetry/194/

Cass was the youngest and most beautiful of 5 sisters. Cass was the most beautiful girl in town. 1/2 Indian with a supple and strange body, a snake-like and fiery body with eyes to go with it. Cass was fluid moving fire. She was like a spirit stuck into a form that would not hold her. Her hair was black and long and silken and whirled about as did her body. Her spirit was either very high or very low. There was no in between for Cass. Some said she was crazy. The dull ones said that. The dull ones would never understand Cass. To the men she was simply a sex machine and they didn't care whether she was crazy or not. And Cass danced and flirted, kissed the men, but except for an instance or two, when it came time to make it with Cass, Cass had somehow slipped away, eluded the men.

Her sisters accused her of misusing her beauty, of not using her mind enough, but Cass had mind and spirit; she painted, she danced, she sang, she made things of clay, and when people were hurt either in the spirit or the flesh, Cass felt a deep grieving for them. Her mind was simply different; her mind was simply not practical. Her sisters were jealous of her because she attracted their men, and they were angry because they felt she didn't make the best use of them. She had a habit of being kind to the uglier ones; the so-called handsome men revolted her- "No guts," she said, "no zap. They are riding on their perfect little earlobes and well- shaped nostrils...all surface and no insides..." She had a temper that came close to insanity, she had a temper that some call insanity. Her father had died of alcohol and her mother had run off leaving the girls alone. The girls went to a relative who placed them in a convent. The convent had been an unhappy place, more for Cass than the sisters. The girls were jealous of Cass and Cass fought most of them. She had razor marks all along her left arm from defending herself in two fights. There was also a permanent scar along the left cheek but the scar rather than lessening her beauty only seemed to highlight it. I met her at the West End Bar several nights after her release from the convent. Being youngest, she was the last of the sisters to be released. She simply came in and sat next to me. I was probably the ugliest man in town and this might have had something to do with it.

"Drink?" I asked.

"Sure, why not?"

I don't suppose there was anything unusual in our conversation that night, it was simply in the feeling Cass gave. She had chosen me and it was as simple as that. No pressure. She liked her drinks and had a great number of them. She didn't seem quite of age but they served he anyhow. Perhaps she had forged i.d., I don't know. Anyhow, each time she came back from the restroom and sat down next to me, I did feel some pride. She was not only the most beautiful woman in town but also one of the most beautiful I had ever seen. I placed my arm about her waist and kissed her once.

"Do you think I'm pretty?" she asked.

"Yes, of course, but there's something else... there's more than your looks..."

"People are always accusing me of being pretty. Do you really think I'm pretty?"

"Pretty isn't the word, it hardly does you fair."

Cass reached into her handbag. I thought she was reaching for her handkerchief. She came out with a long hatpin. Before I could stop her she had run this long hatpin through her nose, sideways, just above the nostrils. I felt disgust and horror. She looked at me and laughed, "Now do you think me pretty? What do you think now, man?" I pulled the hatpin out and held my handkerchief over the bleeding. Several people, including the bartender, had seen the act. The bartender came down:

"Look," he said to Cass, "you act up again and you're out. We don't need your dramatics here."

"Oh, fuck you, man!" she said.

"Better keep her straight," the bartender said to me.

"She'll be all right," I said.

"It's my nose, I can do what I want with my nose."

"No," I said, "it hurts me."

"You mean it hurts you when I stick a pin in my nose?"

"Yes, it does, I mean it."

"All right, I won't do it again. Cheer up."

She kissed me, rather grinning through the kiss and holding the handkerchief to her nose. We left for my place at closing time. I had some beer and we sat there talking. It was then that I got the perception of her as a person full of kindness and caring. She gave herself away without knowing it. At the same time she would leap back into areas of wildness and incoherence. Schitzi. A beautiful and spiritual schitzi. Perhaps some man, something, would ruin her forever. I hoped that it wouldn't be me. We went to bed and after I turned out the lights Cass asked me,

"When do you want it? Now or in the morning?"

"In the morning," I said and turned my back.

In the morning I got up and made a couple of coffees, brought her one in bed. She laughed.

"You're the first man who has turned it down at night."

"It's o.k.," I said, "we needn't do it at all."

"No, wait, I want to now. Let me freshen up a bit."

Cass went into the bathroom. She came out shortly, looking quite wonderful, her long black hair glistening, her eyes and lips glistening, her glistening... She displayed her body calmly, as a good thing. She got under the sheet.

"Come on, lover man."

I got in. She kissed with abandon but without haste. I let my hands run over her body, through her hair. I mounted. It was hot, and tight. I began to stroke slowly, wanting to make it last. Her eyes looked directly into mine.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"What the hell difference does it make?" she asked.

I laughed and went on ahead. Afterwards she dressed and I drove her back to the bar but she was difficult to forget. I wasn't working and I slept until 2 p.m. then got up and read the paper. I was in the bathtub when she came in with a large leaf- an elephant ear.

"I knew you'd be in the bathtub," she said, "so I brought you something to cover that thing with, nature boy."

She threw the elephant leaf down on me in the bathtub.

"How did you know I'd be in the tub?"

"I knew."

Almost every day Cass arrived when I was in the tub. The times were different but she seldom missed, and there was the elephant leaf. And then we'd make love. One or two nights she phoned and I had to bail her out of jail for drunkenness and fighting.

"These sons of bitches," she said, "just because they buy you a few drinks they think they can get into your pants."

"Once you accept a drink you create your own trouble."

"I thought they were interested in me, not just my body."

"I'm interested in you and your body. I doubt, though, that most men can see beyond your body."

I left town for 6 months, bummed around, came back. I had never forgotten Cass, but we'd had some type of argument and I felt like moving anyhow, and when I got back i figured she'd be gone, but I had been sitting in the West End Bar about 30 minutes when she walked in and sat down next to me.

"Well, bastard, I see you've come back."

I ordered her a drink. Then I looked at her. She had on a high- necked dress. I had never seen her in one of those. And under each eye, driven in, were 2 pins with glass heads. All you could see were the heads of the pins, but the pins were driven down into her face.

"God damn you, still trying to destroy your beauty, eh?"

"No, it's the fad, you fool."

"You're crazy."

"I've missed you," she said.

"Is there anybody else?"

"No there isn't anybody else. Just you. But I'm hustling. It costs ten bucks. But you get it free."

"Pull those pins out."

"No, it's the fad."

"It's making me very unhappy."

"Are you sure?"

"Hell yes, I'm sure."

Cass slowly pulled the pins out and put them back in her purse.

"Why do you haggle your beauty?" I asked. "Why don't you just live with it?"

"Because people think it's all I have. Beauty is nothing, beauty won't stay. You don't know how lucky you are to be ugly, because if people like you you know it's for something else."

"O.k.," I said, "I'm lucky."

"I don't mean you're ugly. People just think you're ugly. You have a fascinating face."

"Thanks."

We had another drink.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Nothing. I can't get on to anything. No interest."

"Me neither. If you were a woman you could hustle."

"I don't think I could ever make contact with that many strangers, it's wearing."

"You're right, it's wearing, everything is wearing."

We left together. People still stared at Cass on the streets. She was a beautiful woman, perhaps more beautiful than ever. We made it to my place and I opened a bottle of wine and we talked. With Cass and I, it always came easy. She talked a while and I would listen and then i would talk. Our conversation simply went along without strain. We seemed to discover secrets together. When we discovered a good one Cass would laugh that laugh- only the way she could. It was like joy out of fire. Through the talking we kissed and moved closer together. We became quite heated and decided to go to bed. It was then that Cass took off her high -necked dress and I saw it- the ugly jagged scar across her throat. It was large and thick.

"God damn you, woman," I said from the bed, "god damn you, what have you done?

"I tried it with a broken bottle one night. Don't you like me any more? Am I still beautiful?"

I pulled her down on the bed and kissed her. She pushed away and laughed, "Some men pay me ten and I undress and they don't want to do it. I keep the ten. It's very funny."

"Yes," I said, "I can't stop laughing... Cass, bitch, I love you...stop destroying yourself; you're the most alive woman I've ever met."

We kissed again. Cass was crying without sound. I could feel the tears. The long black hair lay beside me like a flag of death. We enjoined and made slow and somber and wonderful love. In the morning Cass was up making breakfast. She seemed quite calm and happy. She was singing. I stayed in bed and enjoyed her happiness. Finally she came over and shook me,

"Up, bastard! Throw some cold water on your face and pecker and come enjoy the feast!"

I drove her to the beach that day. It was a weekday and not yet summer so things were splendidly deserted. Beach bums in rags slept on the lawns above the sand. Others sat on stone benches sharing a lone bottle. The gulls whirled about, mindless yet distracted. Old ladies in their 70's and 80's sat on the benches and discussed selling real estate left behind by husbands long ago killed by the pace and stupidity of survival. For it all, there was peace in the air and we walked about and stretched on the lawns and didn't say much. It simply felt good being together. I bought a couple of sandwiches, some chips and drinks and we sat on the sand eating. Then I held Cass and we slept together about an hour. It was somehow better than lovemaking. There was flowing together without tension. When we awakened we drove back to my place and I cooked a dinner. After dinner I suggested to Cass that we shack together. She waited a long time, looking at me, then she slowly said, "No." I drove her back to the bar, bought her a drink and walked out. I found a job as a parker in a factory the next day and the rest of the week went to working. I was too tired to get about much but that Friday night I did get to the West End Bar. I sat and waited for Cass. Hours went by . After I was fairly drunk the bartender said to me, "I'm sorry about your girlfriend."

"What is it?" I asked.

"I'm sorry, didn't you know?"

"No."

"Suicide. She was buried yesterday."

"Buried?" I asked. It seemed as though she would walk through the doorway at any moment. How could she be gone?

"Her sisters buried her."

"A suicide? Mind telling me how?"

"She cut her throat."

"I see. Give me another drink."

I drank until closing time. Cass was the most beautiful of 5 sisters, the most beautiful in town. I managed to drive to my place and I kept thinking, I should have insisted she stay with me instead of accepting that "no." Everything about her had indicated that she had cared. I simply had been too offhand about it, lazy, too unconcerned. I deserved my death and hers. I was a dog. No, why blame the dogs? I got up and found a bottle of wine and drank from it heavily. Cass the most beautiful girl in town was dead at 20. Outside somebody honked their automobile horn. They were very loud and persistent. I sat the bottle down and screamed out: "GOD DAMN YOU, YOU SON OF A BITCH ,SHUT UP!" The night kept coming and there was nothing I could do.

'Homosexuals are hot sweaty muscly glistening barbarians that act like savage animals that just see what they want and take and take and they're so rippling hard.... to convert and.... ooOoOoOoooo.'

True quote from him I swear O_O

Sir, I assure you to my utmost highest standard that the Banana Hammock wearing Cowboy in my avatar is entirely TOO clothed for how his sexy Atlas Sculpted body glistens in the Humid heat of the camera lights. This male figure should disgust neither I nor you.

The fact you bring this up as something that would or should be disgusting, a picture, of the male body that is; and a woman geting a nut shot really surprises me.

woman gratuitously getting a punch in the box- Ok

Man in a speedo= Not ok


Good luck with society smooman,seems you may need that.

In reply to this comment by smooman:
assuming you were being facetious i found it curious that that video would disgust you or otherwise offend your sensibilities when your avatar is of a man wearing an entirely too small g string......

In reply to this comment by BoneRemake:
explain your self further, this is not making any sense to me, I would like to understand what you mean before I handle the situation in a fashion un-becoming of what is coming.

In reply to this comment by smooman:
>> ^BoneRemake:

nICE, some quality shit right there. Totally Betters the sift, totally. keeping on par with the ass dance skanks


really? have you seen your avatar? i mean i know you picked it, but have you looked at it?

I also don't like when people say "of-T-en" without the silent T as it should be pronounced. Again, very trivial but try the following:

Say: "often"

Did you silence the T? Why or why not?

Say: "soften"
Say: "listen"
Say: "fasten"
Say: "glisten"

Did you silence the T? Why or why not? DURRRRRRR dont pronounce the T in "often" motherfucker!!! I hate how people have fucked up that word for so long that it's now part of the language.

Although, maybe I just had too much coffee today. Probably just leftover stress from ChrisT-mas. ;-)

3030 way past the millennium, check it out
Yo, Deltron thunderforce, ain't no other source of sunlight
Two ton mic, leave you toungue-tied
Runnin amuck with technology with no apology
Shoutin out to my colony with third eye physiology
Millennium past apocalypse is all I spit
Make you swallow it - your weak style, I'll abolish it
with nuclear rockets they glued to your optics with sci-fi
Unsettlin, man and metal blends
Underground chillin with the Mole Man, and his whole fam
Inhibit bacterial growth, material wrote
Impenetrable, incontestable, indigestible intelligence
Never let a computer tell me SHIT
It's rapid innovation, penetratin
Artificial life forms, who bite songs
I'm a buy a vest, lie is next, then I'll flip the bio-techs
Right into the wireless; your third eye is hit with psoriasis
The mightiest, Deltron Zero
Traverse and purge the travesties that tempt your earholds
The area of distribution, lifts the clueless
My flow is like, liquid oxygen
Rip it often with specific impulse, increasin thrust
Grease the cuts - unleash a cluster of thoughts I muster
I talk to touch ya, and rupture commercial communications
Convert solar energy, into imagery
In the mind's eye, blindside the contagious
With radioactive isotopes to decay them
Atomic mass they small as fragments
I magnetize the avid lies
My radiation shields reflects, rejects Decepticons
who take the truth and stretch it long, while I bless a song
Next level incredible, metal melding
Flexability and my engine is never failing

All your rhyme histories combined couldn't violate
the Prime Optimus operative
Use my hydrometer to see how warm you are, watch me form a star
Hydrogen turned to helium when I shine
Ridin 'em revealin 'em leadin 'em to the vacuum
Interact with tunes in my digital citadel
Critical pivotal with the mental shit on you
Spit infinity, hiden energies too dope for our planet
Star spannin, slammin hymms with
mechanical limbs, scanning your lens
with cosmic rays, you'll all get played, your brain's inferior
I hit the lateral AND posterior
My science is eerier
Ionic bonding for your moronic pondering, meet the armorines
My micro machines, might throw your team, into paralysis
They not talented, just a malady
Worry 'bout a salary, creative casualty
Couldn't defrag my power density intensity
Nonequivalence, nine hundred Newtons
Crush you like croutons, you plus Houston
Hiero's like dipoles inside a silo
Turbulence ten-fold, never simple
Defies accepted methods development most unique
Paralyze central nervous when you close to me
Interstellar void fills with color, appears to bubble
and split into four like amoeba
Inhabitin planets with, grandiose boast
and coast like Silver Surfer, feel the purpoise
High velocity, verbal atrocities
Fire resistance, better hire assistants
My pistons glisten ultra, high performance
Inside your private quarters where I fry your components

Half naked men - check
Male-only cast - check
Finely sculpted muscles glistening with sweat - check
Reading sifters articulate their homo-erotic fantasies for all to read on teh interwebs - priceless

Pretty cool moves...for a bunch of people doing gymnastics.

We - we are the ones
We'll seal your fate, tear down your state, go get yo' guns
We - we came to fight
It's yo' disgrace, smash up your place, that's just polite

Once upon a time when crack was gold
And hip-hop was not yet platinum sold
I scoured the streets for stacks to fold
My mood like my hair was relaxed and blowed
I hated police and my teachers were beasts
My heat in the trunk of the classic Caprice
The one university, I knew the deal
So I cooked it, bagged it, put it on sale
Now philosophically you'd be opposed
to one inhaling coke via mouth or the nose
But economically I would propose
that you go eat a dick as employment froze
And I felt like an abandoned child
Left to fend for myself in the wild
While every courtroom, judge and gavel
were there to bury me under the gravel
Or at the bottom of the finest malt ale
Observe; you'll find without fail
That in every neighborhood and penitentiary
There exists many others who are similar to me and

We - we are the ones
We'll seal your fate, tear down your state, go get yo' guns
We - we came to fight
It's yo' disgrace, smash up your place, that's just polite

In later years I lost some peers
Who mixed burners with Belvedere
And took shots from gung-ho cashiers
The world was cold yet hell was near
So I seek for a kilo
And my stack got a little bit taller like Skee-Lo
A street CEO
There was all of this hell well and not one hero
The intensity was fortified
As I clenched five digits on the forty-five
Barely down at the retail store I would detail more
But I don't wish this action to be glorified
There was a plan I was eager to listen
To not sleep in the park in the fetal position
Having to wipe off canine fecal emission
Otherwise I'd survive without legal permission
It's an equal division and then we go to prison, which is a little decision
All I wanted was a Regal to glisten
And my kids would have meat in the kitchen and complete ammunition
It's a given once the people are driven that

We - we are the ones
We'll seal your fate, tear down your state, go get yo' guns
We - we came to fight
It's yo' disgrace, smash up your place, that's just polite

Get your work up! Get your work up!

We are born from the mildew, the rust, the heathenous lust
The dreams in the dust, the evidence flushed
The grieving is just, they're thieving from us
Insulted and cussed, this evening we bust
Appears unstable and under the table
We like free speech but we love free cable
We're taught from the cradle the Bill Gates fable
Which leads to high speeds in Buick LeSables
We have no excuses just great alibis
And poker faces you can't analyze
Our politicians sell our soul and our cries
With blood on their hands they can't sanitize
We're the have-nots, but we're also the gon'-gets
Not just talkin 'bout the Lex with the chrome kits
You can get that by yourself with the four-fifth
Let's all own shit then toast with Patron hits

Funny how some of the self-proclaimed sensible and "could never happen" types cry foul at the very hint of conspiracy....that's what all this shit is Eisensteins....so many facets to the jewel of contrived worth, that it glistens-

Governments need to go....all of em, then you may be able to make rational and sensible decisions about the future of you and yours, based on meaning and not absolute horseshit.
Abortion
Civil Rights Abuses
Sexual Preference
Environmentalist Passion
Starving children
Aids in Africa.....and all the other bullshit diversions, are there for you to enjoy, and derive some false sense of satisfaction from, while the fire burns bright for the insulated few , who create this shit-Yes kiddies, could, perhaps it be, no??, yes,??? a conspiracy....??!!! Heavens!!!

As a former atheist. I feel as though it is my duty to inform the other members of the Sift that were it not for this fantastic presentation of celestial wisdom, I would still be languishing in my formerly pathetic existence.
I would still be empty. Devoid of all meaning, morality or truth. Writhing in a pit of horrible shame for the ghastly pall of doubt cast upon me by the freezing shadows of science and supposed reason.
Upon completion of the veiwing of this epic saga. This masterpiece of man's triumph over the forces of seemingly impenetrable darkness. I have to say that my heart is now lifted above the treachery of men and their critique of His holy creation! My soul now soares through a thoughtlessly brilliant and glistening heaven. My mind, as if laid to rest in the very bosom of endless, comfortable silence, is free to explore and wonder at the innumerable marvels of the full 4,000 years of man's existence. My questioning fear, soothed. The crushing burdens of skeptisism, alleviated. I am enlightened. Nay! Riven! By this divine revelation of the world beyond my earthly illusions! And yet I am whole! I am complete in my understanding of His word and I bask in his eternal love.

God shower his blessings on this... Bible... Man. For showing me my foolishness with his light saber of unerring faith. Glory unto him.

And glory!!! to KIRK CAMERON!!!

Dema call us Pirates...dema call us illegal downloadahs...Just because we take what de monkey make...

Death to Hollywood, enjoy her demise;
from the ashes, o glistening new nipple..ARISE!!

Dag: "When I see a beautiful woman, I like to imagine taking the epidermis off of her, so she's a walking pile of pink sinew and glistening muscle tissue."

... That's what psychopaths do!

I'm gonna quote the gospel (of South Park) and say, "they're all pink on the inside".

When I see a beautiful woman, I like to imagine taking the epidermis off of her, so she's a walking pile of pink sinew and glistening muscle tissue.

Please tell me you're not making a suit.

Goodbye, horses...

Comment hidden because you are ignoring dag. (show it anyway)

Hmm, so the spirit I'm hearing from a lot of you is - "how dare these beautiful people complain about anything?" I would say that you suffer from a severe case of "unable to walk a mile in another's moccasins".

When I see a beautiful woman, I like to imagine taking the epidermis off of her, so she's a walking pile of pink sinew and glistening muscle tissue. This helps me get a grip on my own "dermal-level" response to human sexual attraction. Beauty really is skin-deep, but the behavior that is caused by it can probably be a pain in the ass.

We know what turns us on as humans- symmetrical faces, large pupils, white sclera etc. Not to mention all of the secondary sexual stuff that works on another level. large, full lips are just body self-mimicry for a different set of lips ...

As self-aware beings, we need to keep in-check our animal nature and keep a look out for real beauty.

Kind of off-topic, but there's one other bit of body self-mimicry that I read about in The Naked Ape:
So, most primates do it doggie style- and large inflamed buttocks were the indicator that the female was in estrus. When humans started doing it missionary style - that big buttocks sexual indicator was replaced with something on the front of the body. Yep - big boobies. That's why we men are attracted to them - and why they are often large, even though they don't functionally need to be big to deliver milk.

So fellows, just think about engorged monkey arses, the next time you see a good set.