Stuff that works.
“I was walking along the road with two friends. The sun was setting – the sky turned blood-red, and I felt a wave of sadness. I paused, tired to death. Above the blue-black fjord and city, blood and flaming tongues hovered. My friends walked on. I stayed behind, quaking with angst. I felt the great scream in nature. So I challenge the Mona Lisa and Whistler’s Mother!” –Edvard Munch
I didn’t crack the tooth after all (see 2016-05-14), but just bruised the lignin by biting wrong and jamming it into the socket, and that’ll fix itself. Dr. Mattson DDS explained the situation, deftly applied a little whirring tool to a couple of teeth in strategic locations and– voila! Now I can talk as fast as I want to, forget entirely about where my teeth are closing, and just shovel out the words and thoughts, and the esses /only very rarely/ make that fingernails-on-a-blackboard shriek instead of doing it every time I don’t put spare clock ticks into consciously driving the machine. It’s a weird, liberating sensation. You can hear the effect throughout this show, which rockets along through fair and foul material alike, with barely suppressed glee bubbling along the edges. The Human Holiday plays for about 40 minutes, starting at midnight-fifteen (3 hours and 15 minutes in), Elly Cooney called and read a story, and still I read a seven-hour show in six hours.
Really, I feel like Absolute Evil in Terry Gilliam’s /Time Bandits/, where Evil exults about how now HE has the map (“…and the day after tomorrow, the world!”). Actually I’ve always sort of identified with that character. At least he tried; at least he did that.
It’ll wear off, or rather become the new normal. Except– a generous lot of things have been going right for me lately, some of them my own doing, some not. Download the show and I’ll tell you about it.
Guy Clark died, and that’s not good, but everything can’t be good all the time, can it.
Anyway, here are links to a few not necessarily radio-useful but really worthwhile items that I happened upon while putting the show together, found mostly thanks to the fine websites listed to your right.
When the New World was new. I’ve been back there; it’s different now. Everything seems smaller.
National Anthem singer at Trump rally accompanied –or rather accommodated– after the fact, by pianist. Amazing.
You need to hear it without the piano? I quite understand.
Cut from commencement speeches.
The brain map.
“Some readers found embryology too difficult. Here a bewildered listener, his mind blown, flees from a lecture to an inn.”
525 million years of devolution in a flipbook.
“To accentuate the mouth you can use four sounds: Oooh! Ow. Wow! Gee.”
Even better than the Catholics’ get-ups, and kaleidoscopically head and shoulders above the Mormons’ magic underwear.
Róisín Murphy – Ten Miles High.
Immigration to U.S.
Spanish to install.
They use something like this to invent titles for people on committees in nonprofit corporations.
See you in Anaon (or Uffern, Peklo, Tuonela, whatever).
How slow light is. If you could actually see behind you while traveling at the speed of light, which you can’t, and if all the planets were lined up in a line parallel with your path, this would be a look behind at the sun from the point of view of light leaving it. (It takes 3 minutes just to pass Mercury, 8 to pass Earth, 43 to pass Jupiter.)
Deep electron microscope zoom into a mosquito’s eye.
Shielded and unshielded locks.
They fight crime.
Pish-tosh, said Hieronymus Bosch.
Puppy mill. It looks like a method of no wasted food, but wait a few hours and then look out on the front lawn and all the neighbor’s lawns. (On the other hand, the dogs will eat all their own processed product up eventually, too, so the whole process is really more like the concept of a cat factory.
(Get rich quick scheme: Cat factory.)
Cat watching horror movie.
This is what happens when you turn on the lights in this restaurant kitchen. Call me old-fashioned, but I think that’s too many rats.
Great. What could go wrong? Also, whether it goes wrong or right, every single shot is as expensive as building and staffing a high school or feeding every poor person in America for a week.
“Oh, my God, I hope they sanded that.”
List of nicknames used by George Bush so he could remember who people around him were.
This thing clips on the glasses of a person with poor vision, who then simply points at any words he wants to read (in a book, on a sign, on a pill bottle, on teevee) and the thing reads what he points at aloud to him in his ear.
This thing that lets you carry on an ordinary conversation in real time with someone when neither of you understands the other’s language. (Like the thing just above, in the future this will be part of your ear-clip or glasses-clip or contact lens or brain implant that is just your phone and computer and flashlight and everything else you need.)
And hypnotism posters circa 1900.