Magic LCD drawing is a fascinating concept where art and technology merge to create stunning visual displays. The magic LCD drawing board consists of a screen that can be written or drawn on with a stylus or finger and then erased with a touch of a button or a swipe. This allows users to create and recreate artwork, messages, and doodles quickly and effortlessly. One of the main advantages of a magic LCD drawing board is its versatility. Unlike traditional pencil and paper, the magic LCD drawing board allows for endless experimentation and creativity. Users can draw, write, and doodle without worrying about wasting paper or making mistakes.
Overall good pressing. Sound is rich and full. Very vibrant. Biggest issue I have with it though (this also goes for other NIN records too) is that it's super quiet and you have to turn it up pretty loud. Overall not too big of a deal, but when it comes to the track "I'm not From This World", it's a pretty quiet track, so surface noise can be heard. The surface noise isn't too loud, but is present. Will turn some people away from this, but it doesn't bug me too much. Overall, pretty good pressing, for a really good album.
I find it astonishing that a man in his mid 50s can lay out music as raw as this, more so than the avalanche of soft electronic music that is pumped out over the internet nowadays. And, although I was loathe to admit it, Trent Reznor was thinking about music, technology, psychology and geopolitics with an exacting vision and fluency that was equal to, if not greater than, that of Radiohead of Bjork or other artists I unabashedly admired.
Users can draw, write, and doodle without worrying about wasting paper or making mistakes. If a mistake is made, it can be easily erased, allowing for a clean canvas to start again. Magic LCD drawing boards come in various sizes, ranging from portable handheld versions to larger desktop models.
Nine Inch Nails “Bad Witch”
I first heard Nine Inch Nails in early 1990, on Long Island’s once great, famously alternative radio station, WDRE. At the time I was a pretentious teenager, deep in the Rock cannon, exploring Elvis Costello, The Clash, The Rolling Stones and the like. I was curious about Goth music and understood its appeal, but I managed to avoid any real seduction. Additionally, I didn’t really know much about Electronic music, aside from experimental or ambient music, like Brian Eno’s, or danceable Pop music, like Disco. Hardcore was popular around New York at the time, but I was far too beta to partake. So, when I first heard “Head Like a Hole” back then, it sounded to me like Skinny Puppy covering the Pixies. There was a din that I vaguely associated with an admittedly scant knowledge of Industrial music. But there was also a quiet/loud/quiet structure and sense for melody that sounded like what was then called “College Rock.” When that song came on the radio, I perked up. I definitely appreciated it, but I did not consider the matter beyond that.
The next year, in the summer of 1991, I attended a summer arts program at a college in Vermont. It was completely precious, pastoral, coming of age stuff — an idyllic locale wherein I could learn about writing and, moreover, about girls. That summer was pierced, however, by a series of bizarre, vaguely sadistic notes that I received from an anonymous source that accused me of being a vampire. You see, I have two birthmarks on my neck that, from a distance, could double for bite marks. Beyond that, however, I share none of the darkly good looks or charisma of the bloodsuckers. In these notes, which sometimes were accompanied by gruesome drawings or decapitated baby doll heads, I eventually recognized lyrics from “Head Like a Hole.” Upon further investigation, I learned that many of the words were culled from NIN lyrics. Before the month long program came to its end, the culprits revealed themselves. Unsurprisingly, it was two very nice, arty teenage girls and their completely sensitive, Gothic boy partner. What was unnerving to me for weeks felt relieving, but also kind of sad. I left the summer and returned home with the sense that Nine Inch Nails was music for my tormentors. I decided it was simply not for me.
For most of the 1990s and early 2000s, I was able to sustain my avoidance. I had my music. I had my heroes. And they did not have stringy long hair, sport a triangular soul patch or wear a black trench coat. They did not peddle sadomasochism to teens. They did not headline Lollapalooza. They did not inspire Harry Potter’s Professor Severus Snape. They were not chummy with Marilyn Manson. No. My heroes were singular geniuses and talents making transcendent Rock music for discerning adults. I was a young adult and serious music fan, after all. No Nine Inch Nails for me, thank you very much.
And yet, I increasingly had to acknowledge that there was something about the music. And the guy. NIN occupied this previously unthinkable space between Industrial, Goth, Experimental, Dance, Hardcore and Pop. In its exceptionalism, it tapped into incredibly diverse audiences. And while I was more an evader than a completist, every song I heard from the band was remarkable in its obsessiveness and its texture. I was not evolved enough to put aside my biases, but I was smart enough to realize that Trent Reznor had a profound vision for his art that went well beyond trend or cliche.
Eventually, with distance from “Hurt,” which was impossible to ignore, and from “Pretty Hate Machine,” which had nearly scarred teenage me, I was able to revisit Nine Inch Nails. The second approach was not swift. However, by 2008, Trent Reznor had cut his hair to a photo-ready bob, had bulked up like 80s Lou Reed and had reportedly gotten sober. What I heard from “With Teeth” and “Year Zero” sounded similarly coiffed to my ears -- a notch cleaner and with more expensive beats. I secretly missed some of the noisy, visceral, carnal rush of the early songs, but I was beginning to appreciate what seemed like clearheadedness. That being said, I sensed that it was too late for me to join the party. I was in my mid-30s. Plus, the club felt too intense and religious to me. In my mind, the music required secret codes and easter egg downloads and video game hacks and unsolvable puzzles. In the mid-2000s, I believed that listening to NIN necessarily required immersing myself in a multi-media experience that was actually a test for something that I probably would not understand.
As the first decade of the new millennium concluded, Reznor’s universe expanded even further. He married singer and future collaborator Mariqueen Maandig and cemented his relationship with producer, Atticus Ross. Increasingly, his music was leaning towards the expansive and experimental side of his tastes. His love of Brian Eno and David Bowie was coming to the surface. And, although I was loathe to admit it, Trent Reznor was thinking about music, technology, psychology and geopolitics with an exacting vision and fluency that was equal to, if not greater than, that of Radiohead of Bjork or other artists I unabashedly admired.
In 2010, having been completely floored by Reznor and Ross’ score for “The Social Network,” I knew that the moment had come. The time for avoidance was up. It was not his fault that a bunch of teenagers with Bauhaus shirts and black lipstick had spooked me. It was not his fault that Alt Rock culture had collided with mall culture. I could no longer dismiss Nine Inch Nails’ music. What had started as willful dismissiveness was beginning to feel like ignorance. Trent Reznor had fully cut his hair and was wearing what seemed like functional, comfortable athleisure. He had children. He had grown up. He was, by this point, fully a middle aged man. And I was not far behind. If he could bury the S&M whips and chains couldn’t I bury the hatchet?
Beginning in 2010, I waded into new Nine Inch Nails’ music gradually, but whole heartedly. The film scores were a complete pleasure -- dark, beautiful, spare and affecting. 2013s “Hesitation Marks,” while not revelatory, was accessible for me. The beats were more muscular and the programming more intricate. In some ways, the music resembled what critical darlings LCD Soundsystem were making at the time. On “Hesitation Marks,” the highs were not as high as his iconic hits. But the fury was less cartoonish to me. There was deep introspection rather than reductive self-loathing. The entire affair sounded more existential than adolescent. Further, with Ross’ considerable help, NIN had developed a breathtaking ability to build up textures to their breaking points, only to then remove everything that was inessential. Middle-aged Trent Reznor did not sound as furious as the guy I had avoided, but he sounded doubly focused.
In 2015, Trent Reznor turned fifty. By this time he had won an Oscar and been named the Chief Creative Officer for a subsidiary of Apple. Moreover, he had gracefully transitioned from Industrial Rock renegade to a venerable artist working at the intersection of composer and musician, Experimental and Pop. Between 2016 and 2018, Nine Inch Nails would release three products, all born out of a dialogue partially between Reznor and Ross, but mostly between Reznor and Reznor. The first two of these releases -- “Not the Actual Events” and “Add Violence” -- were sold as EPs (“Extended Plays”) and did not eclipse thirty minutes in length. “Bad Witch,” the final piece, is just six songs and thirty-one minutes long. It was marketed as an album largely because that format afforded the band and the label more promotional benefit on streaming services. In truth, all three of the releases are as considered and whole as any album but as succinct as most EPs. The fact that the first two are considered EPs is an unnecessary distinction.
Conceptually, these three releases are vast and deep. They were also highly intricate products, coming with hidden lyrics and elaborate packaging. “Not the Actual Events” famously included a mysterious black powder and label warning in its vinyl jacket. Further, the ideas that Reznor and Ross were contemplating are not for the faint of heart. According to Reznor, on the first EP, the band is considering the shame and viability of self and of ego. When looking for problems, Reznor starts from within but then wonders if he is even real. On the second release, the band turns its glare outwardly, decrying the regressive, insular culture that has led to our cultural and political doom. The theme for the finale was apparently discussed and agreed to at the outset. But then, on the heels of “Add Violence” and amid peak Trump America, Nine Inch Nails reconsidered. On “Bad Witch,” the finale, the band goes from masochistic, to cynical, to downright nihilistic. “What if none of this contemplation and desire to make things better matters,” they wonder. “What if humankind is just a mistake, a mutation, or a meaningless simulation?” There is something decidedly mature and impressive about pausing in between records to consider the original thesis. In that pause, NIN avoided redundancy and something pat and convenient in favor of something headier but even darker. If America in 2018 is the plot of “Bad Witch,” however, David Bowie’s passing is the unmistakable subplot.
Both “Not the Actual Events” and “Add Violence” feature five tracks. Both also include one, unmistakable single wherein Reznor and Ross prove that they are still eminently capable of carving verses, bridges and choruses out of the sturm and drang. “Add Violence” is the more experimental of the two, culminating with an eleven minute track that degrades a programmed loop fifty-two times until the music completely disappears. The two EPs, though divergent in perspective, are musically relatable. “Bad Witch,” however, sounds like something else altogether.
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The portable versions are lightweight and compact, making them easy to carry around and use on the go. The larger desktop versions are suitable for more complex artwork and projects. Magic LCD drawing boards are not just limited to art. They can also be used for educational purposes, such as teaching children how to write letters and numbers or practicing math problems. With the ability to easily erase and start again, it provides a non-intimidating way for beginners to learn and improve their skills. Additionally, some magic LCD drawing boards come with additional features like different pen colors, thickness settings, and even the ability to save and share drawings digitally. This adds another layer of convenience and functionality to the device. Overall, magic LCD drawing boards offer an exciting and innovative way to explore creativity and express oneself without any limitations. It provides a fun and interactive experience that can be enjoyed by people of all ages and skill levels. Whether used for recreational purposes or educational purposes, it is a tool that can ignite imagination and bring ideas to life..
Reviews for "The Digital Renaissance: Embracing the Magic of LCD Drawing"
1. Jane - 2 stars
The "Magic LCD Drawing" toy was a huge disappointment for me. The concept seemed intriguing, but the execution was poor. The drawing surface was too small, limiting creativity and making it difficult to draw anything detailed. The colors were also very faint and the drawing didn't show up properly. Overall, this product didn't live up to my expectations and I wouldn't recommend it.
2. Mark - 1 star
I purchased the "Magic LCD Drawing" for my child, but it was a complete waste of money. The screen was not sensitive enough, so it required a lot of pressure to make any mark. The lines were also very faint and disappeared quickly, making it difficult to enjoy the drawing experience. Additionally, the toy had a cheap feeling to it and it broke within a few days of use. I would not recommend this product to anyone.
3. Sarah - 2 stars
I had high hopes for the "Magic LCD Drawing" toy, but unfortunately, it fell short of my expectations. The drawing surface was too small, which limited creativity and made it difficult to draw anything beyond simple shapes. The colors were also dull and didn't show up well on the screen. The eraser function was also not very effective, as it often left behind faint traces of the previous drawing. Overall, I was disappointed with this product and wouldn't recommend it.
4. Chris - 1 star
The "Magic LCD Drawing" toy was a complete letdown for me. The screen was too small and it was difficult to draw anything meaningful. The colors were also very faint and not vibrant at all. Moreover, the battery life was short, and it required frequent replacement. I was expecting a better drawing experience, but this toy failed to deliver. I would not recommend it to anyone looking for a fun drawing toy.
5. Emily - 2 stars
I had high hopes for the "Magic LCD Drawing" toy, but unfortunately, it didn't live up to my expectations. The drawing surface was too small to create anything intricate, and the colors were very pale, lacking vibrancy. The device felt flimsy and was not durable, as it broke within a few days of use. The eraser feature also left faint traces of the previous drawings, making it difficult to start with a clean slate. Overall, I was disappointed with this toy and would not recommend it.