voices in my head

I’ve just discovered that the voice recognition software I’m teaching myself has a database of voices.

So the software has a readback feature. You can talk to it for a while and then have it read back what you said so you can correct any misrecognitions. The more you “correct” the software, the better voice recognition you get. It’s interesting, really. Personalized to your voice. Someone else trying to talk on my software would not be recognized as well as I am because everyone’s voice is different. Weird and neat, huh? Also a tad creepy, let’s not ignore that. My software is designed for vocal monogamy, which I appreciate, I suppose; on the other hand, I am its entire world which is a lot of pressure. I’m only human.

From the start, I’ve been having it read back to me in my own voice, but damn, is that irritating. Shut UP, Trace, for the love of God. It’s not that I hate my voice, but I just heard myself talk to the software and, what, I wanna hear that whole dealio again?? No, no, I don’t.

But then, with one click of the mouse, I discovered The Database of Other Voices.

A voice other than mine? Heaven!

Okay. So they’re robotic voices, but the upside is …… they’re not MINE.

This afternoon, I listened to them all — auditioned them, held rigorous callbacks, the whole nine yards — and have selected my star, my lead here.

While I can’t play the voices for you, still, I’d like to introduce to you, pippa, the voices in my head:

(Oh, and I didn’t make these names up. These are their given names.)

1) Wade — Ah, yes. “Wade.” I listened to Wade’s audition and, well, found him rather generic. A bit of a snoozer. Bascially, Wade is anchorman material. You know, in Robotworld. He’s Robot Brian Williams, although that may be a slight redundancy. Acceptable, but nothing to swoon over.

2) Flo — Uhm, Flo started her audition and, seriously, I had a spontaneous Simon Cowell outburst. Within three seconds I heard myself saying to her in a proper British accent, “What the HELL was that? Did you just suck some helium balloons before your audition? I mean, is this a JOKE? No. One hundred percent NO. Go to Disneyland, tell them you’re the new Minnie Mouse, but please, get out of my head. Go. Now.” And I heard her. She cursed me under her breath as she left. Fine. Not my job to make you happy, Flo.

3) Chris — Sweet Fancy Moses. Chris was worse than Flo. Dude is clearly a castrati and should consider a career as a spotlight soloist for The Vienna Robot Boys’ Choir. Or just having his robot voice box removed entirely. Ew.

4) Skip — Oh, Skip. Skip is a gay auctioneer at Sotheby’s. Not what I want for the voice in my head. Thank you. Next.

5) Judy — Yamahama. Judy is Skip’s twin sister. She is a lesbian auctioneer at Christie’s. Wow. The vocal resemblance is striking and I never want to hear either of them again. It’s like a machine gun duel with those two. Or they remind me of a time I housesat for my friends and their rabbits got out of their cages and I was frantic looking for them when suddenly I heard the drillbit sounds of rabbit lovin’ — d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-ddddddd-d-d-d — coming from the corner and ran around in flappy-armed circles freaking out.

6) Granny — Yes, there is a voice called “Granny.” She is precious, I suppose, for a robot gammie, but I just felt wrong listening to a robot gammie’s voice in my head. I mean, am I supposed to be soothed, to feel warm and cuddly, about electronic gammie? No. No. That’s just WEIRD. I feel like I’m supposed to listen to her read to me whilst I eat cookies and if I tried to leave, she’d say, “SIT back down, young lady.” No. Too needy for me, Gams. Next.

7) Lester — Lester, sweetie, you think you might wanna call the doc for that adenoidectomy? Yeah? Okay. I think that’s a good idea. Boo-bye.

Finally, finally, after a tedious day of auditions, amidst a glowing golden aura, in walked …..

8) Bruno — Ah, Bruno. Bruno! Bruno is Robot Barry White. A voice full of honey and sex and a slap on the ass. Seriously. After swooning over Bruno’s first audition, I discovered I can actually tweak Bruno’s voice — adjust the pitch higher or lower, make it smoother or rougher, make it less breathy or more breathy. I shouldn’t have this kind of power. I’m just not responsible enough. The current version of Bruno — tweaked lower, rougher, more breathy, and ribbed for my pleasure, for God’s sake — is really a little too sexy. It’s naughty, is what it is. I’m naughty. A naughty little minx, I am. I’m almost waiting for him to start talking dirty to me. Seriously, Bruno. I’m waiting. Or, well … I could just read something to you and then …. you could read it back to me …….

Uhm ….. I gotta go …….