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You can’t find a three-el lllama*. Burma Shave.


*(except on the license plates of the Albion Llama Ranch car, which read LLLAMA)

Here’s the clean, dropout-free recording of last night’s (2014-02-07) KNYO-LP Memo of The Air – Good Night Radio show to listen to or download and keep.

We’ve been having problems with dropouts from the stream not playing seamlessly from the broadcast booth in town to the transmitter trailer up Highway 20, and so last night whenever I played a music break I went out in the weird warm rain to my car radio to see if the signal was making it to the transmitter and thence to the air. Lots of dropouts, and finally nothing. I followed Bob Young’s impressively well-written instructions to remotely reset the receiving computer and got the show back on the air, but then after a short while it was solid dead air again. Discouraging, because I still had three or four hours of written material left that I had gathered up during the week and had been looking forward to reading to you.

I signed off, brought the recording home and inserted an especially wonderful episode of Boston Blackie into it, so there’s that. Also there’s a lot of poetry in what there is of the show, and there are some odd and educational items, including William S. Burroughs’ advice for young people. You might like it.

What I’m saying is, this show is just four hours long, not the usual seven-or-more hours. I’ll bring the unused material to next week. Maybe we can get things fixed by then. It’s a long-standing problem, just worse now than ever before. Maybe it’s sabotage by Koch Industries minions. No. Stop. That way lies madness.

Also here are some other objects to fixate on that, like the recordings of my shows, anyway, don’t click off and on like a crazy monkey:

Happy 100th birthday, William S. Burroughs.

Remember the maybe-30-year-old Campbell’s soup ad I talk about all the time, where a mother makes soup for a little girl and you find out, at the end, that it’s not her mother; the little girl’s mother is dead or otherwise gone or in the hospital or something? A perfect poignant little movie in thirty seconds. A superlative marriage of manipulative psychology and art. Here’s an ad for expensive whiskey that’s a little longer (two minutes) but almost as beautiful and effective as that Campbell Soup one, from an artistic and manipulatively psychological standpoint– though, whisky, yuck. On the other hand, a can of soup has like four times the recommended daily allowance of sodium. One day I’d like to make a collection of brilliant tear-jerking ads.

This is like the Imperial Star Destroyer shot at the beginning of Spaceballs thats made fun of the Imperial Star Destroyer shot at the beginning of Star Wars. But this is real. It’s a ship the size of a town. Here’s how it works: half of America’s money goes to a handful of fabulously rich people so the other half of America’s money can be traded what’s in the boxes on a thousand ships like this.

Dripping paint.

Music made on instruments whose bodies are made of ice!

Music made entirely from ice.

Watch, in slow motion, how this new kind of bullet behaves in a block of ballistic jelly. Imagine how well it would work on a suspicious-looking black kid in a hoodie making you feel threatened by walking away from you.

I always suspected that the ROUS of Princess Bride were capybaras. Wonderful harmless sleepy capybaras as big as a travel trailer.

Yet another airship photo article but with some pictures you haven’t seen before.

And yet another steam train race but in the future.

According to this Mormon video, masturbating in your room with the door open is just like being a wounded soldier on a battlefield, and someone telling your parents and religious officials they suspect you might have been masturbating, because they were watching you, is like carrying that soldier to safety through enemy fire, and he’ll be grateful to you for rescuing him. (There’s no actual masturbation going on, but there is a person looking at a computer, just like you are right now, so it’s the same thing.)

“You think I’d be working in a dump like this if I could afford a real bird?”

And a 3-D-printed robot dragonfly.

Okay. I see now.



The zoological times table.

Buttons. Click to enlarge.

The fabulous rollerskaters of 1970s Florida.

25 images of markets regulating themselves.

John Henry, Part 2.

“The NFL gave away .0088% of its revenue to help the veterans it happily trots out to you before each game.”

This is Sochi. For 53 billion dollars. Also, unmentioned, warm weather and zero snow.

Watch this woman deliver 75,000 signatures to the CEO of Bank of America on a gold USB drive, after she interviews ordinary non-banker people on the street about what they’d do if they got 75 billion dollars in bonuses for doing such a great job wrecking the world economy.

Sony contest photography.


And the truth THEY don’t want you to know. About Benghazi.

What I wonder about is, why are all these small miserable children wearing eye liner? Who puts it on them?

Horace and Agnes. A love story.

The silent bombing of Nagasaki. (11 min.)



Love and Punishment. Max Forseter sent this. I especially like the part with the astronauts. And 8:44, when Sandy Glickfeld steps forward and says, “Do svidanya, bitch!”

Earth in 1000 Years.


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