Drum me out of the High End if you must, but I have a shameful confession to make: <I>I love headphones</I>. I know, I know, I'm supposed to preface my comment with a lofty disclaimer, such as, "Of course, given my refined sensibilities, <I>I</I> could never derive satisfaction from such a compromised listening apparatus, but many of <I>you</I> seem to enjoy them." Well, pardon me for saying so, but <I>pfffftttt!</I>
There seems to be a fairly common evolution among audiophiles: First, they notice that there is better sound available than they have ever experienced before, so they buy (we hope!) better-sounding equipment—but sooner or later, upgrading becomes terrifically expensive, while the urge to improve the system remains constant. What to do then?
Most readers of <I>Stereophile</I> are in it to read about great products—things that make the hobby and art of home sound reproduction exciting. In this respect, reviewers aren't too different—we love sound reproduction and music in general, and products that help bring this to life are the cat's meow. Reviewers that can't respond with this kind of excitement don't have a place writing for this magazine.
But change the name of the companies involved and I heard every one of the claims in "The Top 10 Lies of Entrepreneurs" uttered at one point or another this past week.
Hah—I'd like to see the program, that could figure <I>me</I> out!
I just solved your unsolvable math problem.
World's longest concert sounds second chord after one-and-a-half years. It's A, C, and F#—gonna take a while to resolve <I>that</I> one.
What a great idea. Can I add <I>absitively</I>?
Languages change and die all the time, but can one spoken by so many people really be vanishing?
I'm sitting in the hotel lobby, at a small brown table, with Wes Phillips. Our laptops are caught in a long embrace, staring at one another, making a sort of _/ \_