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Terror in the bouncy house.


      “When a felon’s not engaged in his employment or maturing his felonious little plans, his capacity for innocent enjoyment is quite as great as any honest man’s. Tarantara, tarantara.” –William Gilbert

Here’s the recording of last night’s (2016-07-15) KNYO (and, three hours in, also KMEC) Memo of the Air: Good Night Radio show ready to download and be noticed for enjoying with an attractive bearing of calm, detached amusement.

It’s still the 100th anniversary of the Battle of the Somme, and will be through November. It was day and night after horrible day and night of explosions and shelling and huddling in mud and fear and murdering and being murdered, for month after month and, like any such event down to the present day and probably well into the future, it could have been stopped in a minute if the handful of people in charge had been put in a room together and threatened with being sent as peons to fight in their own stupid war if they couldn’t work it out right now, but they never do that, because of course that would be crazy.

And here are links to a few not necessarily radio-useful but otherwise worthwhile items that I happened upon while putting the show together, found mostly thanks to the fine websites listed to your right.

A gyroscopic inertial self-positioner.

It seems magical, and it /is/ cool, but it wouldn’t work on the floor. It has to be on something that can wiggle just a little.

The war you don’t see.


School band keyboard player possessed by a demon.

She belly-dances to the Game of Thrones theme music.

God makes animals.

Hallelujah. Awww.

Hamilton: a new song written by AI.

I like how bystanders get involved.

This is how creativity works. You get an idea and you do it.

What is an existential crisis? Well, I’ll tell you.

Needs more guns.

“If you do that, they will land the plane.”

“Is he? Is he really? Or is he just Jenny McCarthy’s kid?”

“You gone! Ol’ Jabba-the-Hutt-lookin’ broke-ass white bitch!”

Oh. So /that’s/ what crazy racist crackers are like. At least they didn’t whip or shoot the videographer and get away with it, the way their ancestors who, as they say, owned the ancestors of the videographer would have. So that’s good.

The 2000 AD Bastille Day celebratory solar flare.

And jazz and rain, separately adjustable.


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