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Whinge, whinge against the dying of the light.


  “One of my chief objections to the management of the universe is that we suffer so much more from our gentler and more amiable vices than from our darkest crimes.” — A.E. Housman

Here’s the recording of last night’s (2014-12-12) KNYO Memo of the Air: Good Night Radio show ready to download and keep or just play with one click. That’s my 874th weekly Memo of the Air show, my 105th just for KNYO.

This time I did the show by remote from Juanita’s place, and it worked out nearly perfectly. There’s a little noticeable hum, because of the cheap way I slapped things together, but it isn’t bad. I learned a lot, and I’ll probably do it this way again sometime.

The way Bob Young and his service guru have it set up to get the signal to KNYO’s transmitter shack, it doesn’t matter anymore where the airperson is. You can do a radio show on KNYO from anywhere there’s reliable high-speed internet access. It’s nice and familiar to do it at the station on Franklin Street; you can just go in and sit down and start, but with a cheap computer and mixer and mic –and your music player, if you do a music show– you can get just as comfortable elsewhere. It’s the same thing. You just sit down and do what you’re there to do.

It’s funny, I was so nervous and edgy and worried I wouldn’t be able to do it right, that it wouldn’t feel normal and wouldn’t flow. It’s a pretty good show. Lots and lots of useful information and tooth-gritting outrage as well as happy goofiness and appropriate and inappropriate musical bleeps and bloops.

Beyond all that, here are some links to interesting not necessarily radio-useful items that I found mostly thanks to the fine websites listed to your right:


Tribolunimescence of quartz. (You can also get this by crushing a sugar cube with a glass.)

Physics Girl’s latest amazing thing.

Space movie clips and Anthony Hopkins reading Dylan Thomas.

Magic ballet.

This might be considered technological cruelty, except that the victim is clearly enjoying himself. It occurs to me that it’s very much like what Fox so-called News does not only to its viewers but to itself.

Another pretty good metaphor for teevee in general.

And yet another fascinating slow-motion-fest.

Magic bullet(s). This reminded me of the Puffa Puffa Rice cereal commercials from my childhood where bags of rice were “shot from guns”, and then I looked that up and found it was never Puffa Puffa Rice after all– oh, there was a Puffa Puffa Rice cereal, but it was Quaker Puffed Wheat and Puffed Rice that was shot from guns. (How I wanted one of those giant cereal cannons.)


Every raindrop is a micro asteroid impact. But with surface tension, so there’s much more sucking backward of the ejecta. Pretty.

Practice makes perfect…

…or not.

Bye, crazy-eyes. Don’t let the screen door hit you in the ass on the way out.

HELP the police. HELP-HELP-HELP the police.

Wake up, America.

The art of space.

Six one-way mirrors.

Snow polygons. Like crop circles but with polygons instead of circles, and snow instead of crops. No, wait– circles are sometimes involved. Just imagine the kind of bed cramps this guy must get in his thigh muscles after making something like this.

The spiral staircases of Budapest.


Right-wing lessons learned.

Wondermark — Icebergs, Part 1. And Part 2.

Jackie Chan’s best day ever, the day his idol Bruce Lee knocked him out with a stick and said sorry.

Colbert interviews Smaug, a fellow gated-community dweller and fiscal conservative.

Fun with boredom.

Capybara madness.

Anthropomorphic taxidermy.

The Feast of the Immaculate Conception.

The 1784 Calculon Mark V says, “You can crank my shiny metal ass.

Bvvv daz-taz dvv, bvv daz-taz drvv…

The perfect model of a scientific wedding.

Why won’t you? Film and fire.

Watch a 1976 BMW motorcycle being built by sturdy Frenchmen with a cigarette in the corner of their mouth. (Frenchwomen make the wheels, and paint the perfect lines on the gas tanks freehand with a brush.) Also Pink Floyd is involved.

It’s not really walking on water, though, is it. It’s not water, it’s oobleck.

Yahaah! Woohoo!

All just the songs from year one of Flight of the Conchords.

And, speaking of which, here’s every death in the Lord of the Rings trilogy in six minutes. Apparently one does not simply walk into Mordor.


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