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Abstract

nobody else saw, not even me when reacquainted with the pulses of the everyday world.</p><p id="9c95">It may have been wandering, or boredom, or self-destructive behavior that led me into the bathroom at the blue level of Madison Square Garden with Keegan, a friend from boarding school. I was getting ready to drop two windowpanes of a four-way hit. Whatever I was seeking, I knew that, at the very least, this dose would provide a counter-irritant to douse the peat-fire of boredom and wanting burning in my guts.</p><p id="4657">Keegan asked me how many panes I wanted to take.</p><p id="c93a">I asked, “how many are you going to take”?</p><p id="9068">He said, “two”.</p><p id="46ca">I said, “I’ll take two, then.”</p><p id="b8c7">Soon after I took them he told me that he had dosed on this same acid two days before, which would mean that he had some resistance to the batch and was doubling his intake to make sure he got high. What it meant for me was that if the acid was any good I was going to get very high, and the acid was good.</p><p id="a94e">Whether what Keegan had done was “mean”, “unfair”, “stupid”, “dangerous”, “funny”, or “not a big deal”, wasn’t a question I asked at the time. It was two decades before I began to realize that some of my “friends” were not my friends. It may be of no surprise to people older than fifty that many of the people I once called “friends” were really transactional acquaintances forged in a furnace of boredom and need. At some point in my life (like, about age forty) there was the awful realization that some of the people I referred to as “friends” were simply people that let me hang out with them. They didn’t actively humiliate or shun me, and so, to my adolescent pollywog brain, they were “friends”, even if there was no reciprocity in our relationship.</p><p id="ba48">Keegan was not someone I hung onto. In the brutal pecking order of boarding school hierarchy he and I were roughly equal, though we shouldn’t have been. Keegan was smart and funny, but he was also overweight, messy, and occasionally obstinate, in the kind of peevish way that eventually stops making sense. In a milieu where sports, good looks, and emotional control counted in the calculation of your social credit score, I could fairly count Keegan as an “equal” despite the fact that he was a more compelling, charismatic, and engaging character than I was.</p><p id="9ded">Keegan had another strike against him that may be hard to explain nowadays. His parents were divorced and he was being raised by a single mother. Why that information reflected poorly on him is a topic for another serving of dreck, but there is no question that my dysfunctional, alcohol-soaked, “in-tact” nuclear family gave me a lift. Keegan’s mother, who was smart but stranded economically (though not so stranded that she couldn’t afford boarding school for her son) came to parent’s day alone, or didn’t come at all. While that information seems like it would be the last thing that teenage boys would care about, somehow it factored into the equation, and, in ways that confuse both logic and analysis, made it easier for us to take Keegan himself less seriously.</p><p id="6a81">As I look back at it, I don’t think Keegan was being a dick when he gave me the double dose. We can explain it away by using the euphemism, “he was being mischievous”. He saw it as a prank. Had he not died of a drug overdose when we were in our twenties, I am certain that today he would be willing to either apologize or explain to me why he didn’t need to apologize. I’m sorry he can’t do that.</p><h2 id="ba57">Part II: The Trip</h2><p id="4aa8">After dropping the acid in the bathroom, a metallic flush began on my tongue and filled my entire mouth while we were walking on the concourse towards our seats. I was seeing vivid color trails before any music started. When the Grateful Dead came out, I couldn’t quite fathom what was happening. All I saw was Gerry Garcia’s great gray set of hair mushrooming and breathing as he took the stage. His hair kept expanding until it filled more than a third of the Garden. Then then band began to play.</p><p id="6d9d">Here is the a recording in the concert. There is a crash at the beginning of the opening number, <i>Mississippi Half-Step</i>, which I clearly remember, though at the time, I couldn’t make any sense of it.</p> <figure id="f154"> <div> <div> <img class="ratio" src="http://placehold.it/16x9"> <iframe class="" src="https://cdn.embedly.com/widgets/media.html?src=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fembed%2Fs_PakceAHxs%3Ffeature%3Doembed&amp;display_name=YouTube&amp;url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3Ds_PakceAHxs&amp;image=https%3A%2F%2Fi.ytimg.com%2Fvi%2Fs_PakceAHxs%2Fhqdefault.jpg&amp;key=a19fcc184b9711e1b4764040d3dc5c07&amp;type=text%2Fhtml&amp;schema=youtube" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" width="854"> </div> </div> </figure></iframe></div></div></figure><p id="06c9">Throughout the concert Keegan and I stayed in our seats. At one point a Deadhead “twirler” came up to our tier and spent what seemed like hours Grateful Dead dancing.</p> <figure id="9bcf"> <div> <div> <img class="ratio" src="http://placehold.it/16x9"> <iframe class="" src="https://cdn.embedly.com/widgets/media.html?src=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fembed%2FtmBIgvOYfLw&amp;display_name=YouTube&amp;url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DtmBIgvOYfLw&amp;image=http%3A%2F%2Fi.ytimg.com%2Fvi%2FtmBIgvOYfLw%2Fhqdefault.jpg&amp;key=a19fcc184b9711e1b4764040d3dc5c07&amp;type=text%2Fhtml&amp;schema=youtube" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" width="854"> </div> </div> </figure></iframe></div></div></figure><p id="ef40">I must have been smoking. I didn’t really smoke much as a kid, but I didn’t “not smoke” and since almost everyone in the world smoked, I sometimes did. Two girls came up to our seats and asked to bum a cigarette from me. I ha

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d a pack of Marlboros, but I couldn’t find them in the Vietnam era army jacket I was wearing. I had taken the jacket off, so I just kept turning it over and over looking through various pockets, it began to look like a carnival ride of pickle green cubby-holes. The girls stared expectantly, Keegan kept up a running commentary under his breath that they couldn’t hear:</p><p id="c961">“They’re <i>still</i> waiting. The two girls are waiting patiently while the stoned kid paws at his jacket pockets and grunts. No, that’s a lighter, Gutbloom. A lighter is not a pack of cigarettes, even if you stare at it for a long, long, time. What’s this? Hurray! You found something. A ticket! which is also not a pack of cigarettes….” etc., etc.</p><p id="46a0">After I gave the girls cigarettes, they walked away, and then the ceiling of Madison Square Garden touched the floor.</p><p id="90b4">Forty years ago I might have been able to tell you the peculiar hallucinations that accompanied individual songs. Some of those visions still color my emotional reaction to those tunes if I listen to them now, which I seldom do.</p><p id="1111">More memorable is the image of Keegan and his younger brother, who met us after the concert, standing on a New York City street trying to figure out which way was east. I was quite certain I knew, and I pointed north and said, “That’s uptown”, then pointed south and said, “that’s downtown, so that,” pointing east, “must be east.” I don’t remember if they agreed.</p><p id="d787">We went into an arcade in Times Square named Playland.</p><figure id="4e7d"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*MPnG0QZ1e9-LcTsYgF3z0g.jpeg"><figcaption><a href="https://weber-street-photography.com/2015/08/01/playland-times-sq-1985/">“Playland” Times Sq. 1985, ©Matt Weber</a>. Used without permission.</figcaption></figure><p id="d46d">When I told my brother about my adventure a few weeks after the fact, he told me that Playland was one of the “crusiest places on the planet and I was lucky I wasn’t swarmed by <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chickenhawk_(gay_slang)">chickenhawks</a>.” I wasn’t. No chickenhawks that I remember. No people. There were people, but I don’t remember them. I just remember the green lines of the video game and the sound that the tanks made when they materialized.</p><figure id="e2bc"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*wvY5F25mQqrqBt2iPefnlQ.gif"><figcaption></figcaption></figure><p id="bdd2">There was nothing epic about my trip to the land of Nod. All of the epic was inside my head. From the outside, we were just messy stoned kids wandering around the city.</p><p id="a983">We made it Grand Central Station before the last New Haven Line commuter train had departed for the suburbs. On it, we joined a group of Deadheads from Rye that Keegan knew. They were another dirty lot. One of them was even wearing a top hat. Someone had a tape recorder, and they were playing the concert we had just attended.</p><p id="5c29">An argument broke out between Keegan and someone else about whether the Dead had played the “Weather Report Suite” at the concert (they hadn’t).</p><p id="834d">I wasn’t a Deadhead and had no interest in the argument. At the time I wasn’t impressed by the Rye kids. My ignorance was so complete that I could arrogantly dismiss that which I knew nothing about on the thinnest shred of misunderstood and badly reasoned evidence. I only knew what I knew, which was painfully little, but I was certain <a href="https://readmedium.com/there-s-no-place-like-home-a218b7891be3">that my beloved suburb</a> was in every way superior to Rye, and, so, by the deductive process that renders simple ignorance into mindnumbingly cocksure adolescent arrogance, I figured that the kids from Rye were somehow “wanting” and I shouldn’t waste my time on them.</p><p id="c296">Little did I know that Rye was the town where Ogden Nash lived, where the Dick Van Dyke Show was set, and that gave us Nick Kroll. I thought it was simply the backdrop for <a href="https://playlandpark.org/">Rye Playland</a>. There was plenty I could have enjoyed in Rye.</p><p id="91f2">Some time in the morning we tumbled out onto the station platform and, still as a group, went to a downtown diner that was open. I had a plate of eggs that wiggled, breathed, and grew hairs. My mouth was full of the chemical taste of speedy acid and I knew that I would be awake for at least eight more hours.</p><p id="d68b">We left the wandering pack of Deadheads and made it back to Keegan’s house as dawn arrived. His mother was awake.</p><p id="d19a">Keegan went immediately downstairs.</p><p id="6e00">His mother and I talked for a long time in the kitchen. Mrs. Keegan was kind and interesting… interesting because she seemed genuinely interested in me. She, like my mother, was a Westover graduate, and I had the realization that she was just like one of my aunts… could be one of my aunts… sitting at the kitchen table and making deceptively sophisticated small talk. I didn’t know much, but I knew she was shrouding her concern for both me and her son in her subtle and psychologically-sophisticated set of questions. Her rejoinders to my answers were sagacious. I wish I could remember them.</p><p id="c82b">For all the Koans I could recite (“Why does the Buddha come from the East?”) or snippets of the Tao Te Ching I could burp out (“The name that can be named..”) I didn’t recognize one of the Masters even while she was instructing me. Of course I couldn’t see her. If I had, I would have had to recognize her sister rabbi who was in the kitchen at my house. These boddhisattvas, who understood, endured, and knew so much, were willing to put their own “desires” aside in an attempt to feed and care for pupa hell bent on fucking up their yet-to-be spun cocoons.</p><p id="d2f6">I wish I knew then what I know now. I had met the goddess on my non-ayahuasca trip.</p><p id="5733">But I didn’t know. I went downstairs into Keegan’s basement bedroom to smoke pot, listen to Jethro Tull, and watch the walls swim.</p></article></body>

How to use Apple ProRAW

Whether you’re a seasoned photographer or someone who just likes to dabble, it’s an impressive feature providing more creative control

Image courtesy of Apple

This week, Apple released iOS 14.3, and it includes a new camera feature which definitely deserves some exploration.

Yes, I was rather underwhelmed by the iPhone 12 Pro, but the introduction of Apple ProRAW is actually pretty exciting.

Whether you’re a seasoned photographer or someone who just likes to dabble, it’s an impressive feature addition which will provide more creative control and yet more reason to make the iPhone your go-to camera for nearly every scenario.

What is Apple ProRAW?

Photographers have relied on RAW files for a long time. They’re essentially unprocessed digital images. That means they retain all of the necessary image data needed for post-processing.

Think of it as a studio recording of a band. If every instrument is plugged into one input, the engineer only has one volume fader for all of them and can only adjust the EQ for the entire mix. If they’re instead plugged into separate inputs, the engineer can fine-tune the volume and EQ of the guitar, vocals, bass and drums separately. A RAW file does the same for all of the constituent elements of a photograph.

For instance, if you capture a RAW file and there’s lots of shade and light throughout the image, there should be enough data in the file to help you brighten the shadows to reveal what lies within them and bring down the lighter areas so they’re not overexposed.

You can’t do that effectively with a JPEG image, which is processed at the point the photo is taken. JPEGs don’t have anywhere near as much data in them as RAW files, and therefore as soon as you start fiddling with them in post-production, you lose quality and they just look… well, rubbish.

As a result, RAW images weigh in with considerable larger file sizes and require editing software to get the most from them.

Now, your iPhone 12 Pro or iPhone 12 Pro Max (ProRAW isn’t compatible with any other model) can produce these files — and let you edit them directly on the phone.

Why is Apple ProRAW important?

In truth, the iPhone has been producing RAW photos for a long time — you just needed third-party software to unlock the ability to edit them. And that’s a faff.

The introduction of ProRAW means two things:

  • there’s no need to use third-party apps to edit the RAW files because you can do it directly in the Photos app; and
  • these RAW files which benefit from Apple’s significant innovations in photography.

An Apple ProRAW file includes all of the data you’d expect from such a file (exposure, highlights, shadows, etc), but throws in the likes of Deep Fusion and Smart HDR, for good measure. Although, it should be noted that you can’t edit those aspects.

So, you’re getting a pretty much unprocessed RAW file straight out of your iPhone which you can play with to your heart’s content.

I say “pretty much”, because Apple ProRAW files are actually processed slightly. In fact, if you take one side-by-side with a normal JPEG image, they look pretty much identical in the Photos app.

But that’s fine. In fact, it simply means you get a better starting point from which to apply your edits. Anyone who has worked with a RAW file from a DSLR camera will know they come out looking very ‘flat’ and lifeless until you start processing them.

When to use Apple ProRAW

Some people won’t even realise ProRAW exists — you have to turn it on, after all. And, for some, it won’t be of any interest; the vast majority of iPhone owners just want to press a button and watch as the perfect photo is taken.

That’s cool, but if you fall into one of the following camps, you’ll want to use Apple ProRAW:

  • you’re a pro photographer who has to occasionally use the iPhone for your work;
  • you’re a hobbyist photographer;
  • you’re not particularly happy with the way the iPhone processes photos;
  • you fancy developing your photo processing skills (excuse the pun); or
  • you just love to fiddle with cool new tech.

However, a word of warning. In my tests, a HEIF (Apple’s compressed JPEG format) image weighing in at 2.2MB, jumped up to 30MB when taken as a ProRAW image. So, using it regularly will quickly eat up your iPhone’s storage.

It’s also important to note that when you shoot in ProRAW, the iPhone disables features like Live Photos and the various effects you can apply, such as looping and long exposures.

Therefore, I’d suggest you only turn ProRAW on when you need it most, or when you simply want to improve your photo editing skills.

How to turn on Apple ProRAW

Super-easy. Just head into Settings > Camera > Formats and flick the ProRAW switch beneath Photo Capture.

Then, when you head into the Camera app, you’ll spot a ‘RAW’ option at the top-right. Simply tap that to turn it on and off and shoot away.

How to edit Apple ProRAW on an iPhone

One of the nicest things about ProRAW is the ability to simply edit the photos on your iPhone.

After you’ve taken your ProRAW image, just head into the Photos app (you can do this on iPadOS and the Mac, too), and tap the Edit button. At the bottom, there’s a bunch of icons you can use to control exposure, brilliance, detail and more. They’ve always been there, but with a ProRAW image, they become far more impressive to use.

If you’re new to this RAW photo editing game, I’d suggest starting with the following process:

  1. Lower the highlights until the brightest areas of the image regain some detail (skies are common areas to watch here, along with surfaces which might be catching more light than the rest of the scene).
  2. Increase the shadows until you can begin to see detail in the darkest areas of the photo. This is where the power of RAW imagery often reveals itself to people.
  3. Boost the contrast a tiny amount to add some drama.
  4. Play very carefully with the saturation, warmth and vibrance if you want the scene to ‘pop’ a little more.
  5. Move the vignette slider slightly to the left if you want to add a gentle feathered dark border around the photo to draw one’s eye into the central part of the image.
  6. Increase (or decrease) the exposure until the image looks nicely balanced overall and not too dark (underexposed) or light (overexposed).

While you’re flicking through the controls above, you’ll notice several more you can play with. I’ll cover those in a future guide, but the above is all you really need to do if you want to breathe life into your photo and develop your own editing style.

Here’s an example I quickly shot and edited this morning. It’s not perfect, but I quite like it, and it does reveal how much control ProRAW gives you:

It’s worth noting that the files produced by ProRAW are actually DNG format, which means you can drop them into pretty much any third-party photo editing software, such as Adobe Lightroom, and edit them from there if you so wish.

Apple ProRAW is a great step forward for the 12 Pro and 12 Pro Max. In my opinion, it’ll also be far more useable and beneficial in the real world than the “check us out” 10-bit Dolby Vision video muscle-flexing these devices are also capable of.

More of this stuff, please, Apple.

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Originally published at https://markellisreviews.com on December 15, 2020.

Technology
Apple
Photography
Smartphones
Tech
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