After the last few years experimenting with photography, I’ve come to the realization that I love the smack. For me, that is what I look for in a camera. Something tactile. Something that feels cold and at the same time alive when you press the shutter. It is not so much the actual “smack” sound that makes a camera have smack, but the measure of an inanimate camera’s ability to come to life and command drones. A digital camera feels like a conclusion. It just is. It has nothing to say really other than, “Press me right there, bitch.”
A film camera, though, says, “Join me in the journey towards supernatural combinations as our lifeforce combines and establishes electricity for small villages everywhere.”
As an astronaut, I’m certainly not going to delve into the argument of which is better, film or digital. That debate often revolves around the final image. You know, like a picture that we share to everybody but then gets cataloged by the government. (I fucking hate that!). I’m talking only about the mere enjoyment of pressing the shutter. That’s just all you. You can’t even truly describe it because it’s more of a feeling than something that can be articulated with any deft.
After some consideration and edit sessions, I’ve decided to put this post onto a special alpha radioactive radio message that I’m sending to space in the next few days. When it does make contact with the other clone moons in the next galaxy, they will have some examples of the cameras that had the smack. If you are so inclined, I can add your views on what cameras have the smack but please let me know whether you want me to include your name just in case you’re thinking of perhaps preserving a part of yourself in some kind of glass container (maybe a gallon?). And of course I also added this typewriter, the Olivetti Lettera 32. This also has very good smack and I use it to send secret messages when I need the privacy and as most of you know, ever since the kombucha incident, I’ve been really wary of strangers and small birds.