The clues a lesser detective would have missed.
“Modern forensics reveal that King Richard III died after being criticaled with a halberd for 1d10 x3 piercing damage.” –Fark link
Here’s the recording of last night’s (2015-02-13) KNYO Memo of the Air: Good Night Radio show ready to download and keep or just play with one click.
Another live remote from Juanita’s house, in my pyjamas and fuzzy slippers. About halfway though the show the downstairs neighbor phoned because of the noise of my yammering, so I turned off the speakers, put on headphones and spoke very quietly very close to the microphone for the rest of it. It sounds like my mouth is right on your ear; I hope that’s okay with you. I keep my tongue to myself at all times. I have never licked a microphone in my life, though around thirty years ago I did once put a very small condenser microphone pill all the way down my throat (!), experimenting for an electronic music project. You won’t catch me trying that again.
It’s a good show, if a little short. I got somewhat carried away tossing extra material (that I had because of not getting to do the show last week) and brought it in under six hours.
Also, last week I got a new mixing board for $70 including shipping, and this was its maiden voyage. Not too shabby. It has built-in limiting and a useful patch bay and it connects to the computer with a USB cable, so no noticeable noise from it, no distortion, enough inputs and outputs for different purposes, it’s easy to calibrate the meter in the mixing board with the meter on the streaming program screen… Totally worth the money: Behringer Xenyx Q802USB on sale at Musician’s Friend.
Just by the way: a mixer like this, a $50 microphone and a $100 refurb computer, free streaming software to get the signal to the transmitter, and you’ve got an entire remote radio studio.
Here are links to some not necessarily radio-useful but interesting items that I traipsed among while putting the show together, that I found mostly thanks to the fine websites listed to your right:
Making of Game of Thrones dragons.
Didja walk? Didja walk?
It makes the waves look like some kind of greasy jello.
Impressive Russian babysitter.
Fool the Axis — use prophylaxis! VD is not victory! Loose women may be loaded with disease! (Don’t miss the slide show at bottom.)
The Wong umbrella.
Failed mall, broken skylights, snow. A winter underland.
Petunia-Liebling MacPumpkin – Bagboy Cowboy.
The Automaton of Venice. (The shoebox dioramas of Paolo Ventura.)
Scroll down and then play and fullscreen the animated map of all tornadoes in the contiguous United States from 1950 to 2013.
Another ant mill, except not for ants but people. (A good illustration of why to leave at least three seconds of empty space in front of your car.)
This is from a couple of years ago.
Mouse trap jenga. Ouch.
Turnip truck. You don’t hear that phrase used much these days. Guy’s a sore loser, anyway.
And the universe is 13,500,000,000. And it doesn’t look a day over 13,000,000,000.
Diego Stocco at the dry cleaner.
Diego Stocco – Experibass.
The future from then.
Rockets arranged by length.
“Hi, I’m looking for work. I’ll do anything.”
The difference between porn sex and real sex.
For me, the best smell on a person has always been freshly laundered linen. Other smells can come along with it, that’s fine, but perfume and tobacco and alcohol and medical chemicals are right out, and the smell of cosmetic products is nauseating, as is the sight of piercings. What happened to just plain old soap and water and a pleasant attitude?
Lullaby to a pig.
Hot lemon capybaras.
Denizen of the deep.
I know they have to kick these things to make sure they can stay upright, and I know they’re just electronical clockworks inside, but it still seems mean, because I think they /enjoy/ kicking them.
Brain-dead teen to be euthanized.
Speak the speech trippingly upon the tongue. Also direct imaginary traffic of demons.
Don’t eat them. They are not candy; they are medicine.
Dr. Phil with dialog removed, leaving only reaction shots.
“At all the stores investigated, the St. John’s Wort contained absolutely no St. John’s Wort. Likewise, the Gingko Biloba had no Gingko Biloba…”
Charles Darwin’s childred doodled all over his Origin of Species manuscript.
So no permits, then.
An illustrated book of bad arguments. (Use arrow keys to turn pages.)
The only one to get in trouble for fibbing.
This is nice to watch, though this man doesn’t get to go away after three minutes like you can; he has to stand there and do this all day. But there are perks: In my youth when I was a restaurant dishwasher I had a lot of thrift-store dishes and silverware and so on in my house, and it all fit in one crate. I’d just fill up the crate for a week or two and take it to work and run it all through the machine. (Now I have one dish, one fork, one spoon and one big knife. That’s a system.)