A Blank Disc

The inserting and ejecting of a blank disc is a sacred act. After entering the portal of a computer, everything changes. I’ve known blank discs that haven’t come out alive.

The act of inserting a blank disc is indeed the holy sanctification of creating and moving from nothingness, la tabula rasa, to the absolute inscription of the will. We choose what goes and what stays on a blank disc. I cannot fit Pink Floyd’s “Another Brick in the Wall pt. 2” because its last few seconds hinge on the eighty minute regulation of the disc. I must conform to what the disk asks of me, but I am also free to author its soul. Like a confession or a prayer, a blank disc demands an answer. How many of us have inserted a blank disk only to find that its contents were not satisfying enough?

There are many kinds of blank discs. Some take the exact shape and color of old LP’s; they have fake concentric circles reflecting the days of vinyl. These are typical of the nostalgic music lovers, who proclaim that vinyl “sounds” better because of the rustic and scratchy contact the needle makes with the product. I cannot imagine a Little Bow Wow laying down the needle of a phonograph. Then there are the colorful blank discs that businessmen use to organize their files or teenagers use because they stand out. The shelf of burnable disks at Best Buy or Wal-Mart contains DVD disks, Data disks, Disks packaged with a tall ring or individually wrapped ones. The indifferent and unconfident people who stand before this shelf will stay there for a long time because they are too wrapped up in looks. Nobody remembers the days of blank tapes. However, the importance of the blank disk is its quality of being blank. A burnt disk will be loved but eventually encounters its half-life in the maybe-I’ll-listen-to-you-later library. How rare it is to make the perfect mix! I’ve done it once.

There are various ways of inserting and ejecting a blank disc. There is the violent insertion of finger and hand with which the hopeless romantic shoves in the mix CD because he must burn it now. If he doesn’t burn it now, it will be too late. There is the gentle and unknowing nudge of a disk for those who don’t quite understand yet what will become of the CD in the end. On the other hand, the ejecting of a disk can be quite sad and depressing. Sometimes the burning doesn’t go well, and a defunct disk forces itself upon the madness of our desk. I can assume that everyone has felt the agony of a disk gone awry.

The blank disk is a symbol of man’s free will. It is our expression placed firmly on a round piece of spinning funk. Anything and everything virtual can be placed on the disk if the disk warrants room. The inserting of a blank disk and the ejecting of a burnt one proves that we are what we make, even if it’s a mistake. Of course, when we introduce a blank disc into a computer, we expect the outcome to be great.