What do you get when you open up 20 or so VOIP telephones along Third Avenue in Manhattan and listen to them all at once? Some might call it a wall of noise. I actually find it surprisingly engaging. I just wish sound quality over VOIP didn’t sound so squeaky and shrill.
I hear a carnival of noise. Individual voices emerge, distinguishable words and phrases, but mostly it is a loosely organized cacophony that actually makes sense. This is the sound of raw surveillance. It reminds me of a memorable moment as a kid in Tampa, when I picked up the telephone in my bedroom and heard hundreds of voices talking all at once. Somehow all the lines had gotten crossed and I heard and insane hive of words, voice after voice piling on top of each other, struggling to break away and be the one that was heard loudest.
