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Poor players.


     “It isn’t like it used to be. They used to have different shows. Like, there was this thing they called a curly-cue show, yeah, Tommy knows, he can tell you, where they’d get up on the stage and the band would play and these expert curly-cue performers would twist themselves in curly-cues and knots and just lie there trying to breathe. All twisted up like that. And they’d have to come and get them unstuck. And it was hilarious. It was great. People loved it. But of course a few kids died trying it at home, and there was that club fire that time, where everybody ran out and forgot and left the girl there, what was her name? Beautiful girl. So they passed laws so you can’t do it in public anymore even if it’s only robots or puppets of it, because it still gives you the idea. All the old curly-cue stars are dying or dead of old age without passing on the craft to a new generation. And another wonderful thing has gone out of the world.”

Here’s the recording of last night’s (2017-06-23) KNYO (and, three hours in, also KMEC) Memo of the Air: Good Night Radio show ready to download and enjoy.

Or, thanks to Hank Sims of Lost Coast Outpost, you can get it this other way, which you might like better because it offers an instant-play option and isn’t surrounded by confusing flashing ads.

Besides all that, though, here are links to a few not necessarily radio-useful but otherwise worthwhile items that I set aside for you while putting the show together, found mostly thanks to the fine websites listed to your right:

Robot and Scarecrow.

House and house.

The automatic motorist. 1911.

The list of lies.

The fabulous Damasu 950!

It looks fun. I guess it just didn’t catch on because too dangerous.

And yet this did.


The difference between a $100 bass guitar and $10,000 bass guitar cannot be heard. It depends entirely on the person playing it. For the money you spend on a $10,000 one, you could have essentially the same thing and also provide 99 free bass guitars for poor kids. It’s like that with lots of things: radio stations, audiophile electronics, clothes, companionship, etc.

The wonders of free-market health care.

The aristocrats.

Nice knife.

A 600 pound whale heart the size of a pony. “It will last a thousand years.”

Giant underground electro-percussive stalactite organ.

Wet things that don’t mix.

Boycott Israel. Or not.

Oh, yeah? Come over here and say that.

Not a cult.

Another Alex Jones compilation.

The hiding place.

You notice they never show them putting it back. It’s a lot harder to put it back. It’s like cars where you practically have to take the whole fender off to get at the oil filter. But I suppose that’s not a problem in battle; getting the sword out and in front of you is what’s important then.

Not creepy at all.

Nope, not creepy.

Schlieren photography explained (and shown in slow motion).

Ten styles of metal.

Number 11. Julie Andrews death metal.

Death of the firstborn Egyptians. (From Nina Paley, who made Sita Sings the Blues.)


Motor show, 1962.

Motor show, 2017.

Remember the story of the black schoolteacher a policeman emptied his gun into and killed with the man’s girlfriend and little child right there in the car with him? You’ve seen the video from the woman’s phone. Here’s video of just after that when the child and the woman, who for some reason has been handcuffed behind her back, have been stuffed in a police car and left there to wonder what will happen next. What the child says to her. The crazy cops who did that to these people were acquitted just this week of any wrongdoing by the vote of a jury of mostly white people with cops in their own families.

Japanese fireworks company’s leisurely demo of its fine new 12-inch shells.

“I don’t always listen, but when I do I don’t care.”

Honest illustration of the contradictory nature of people and society, by Sako Asko.

There’s your gateway drug, right there.

“Sometimes I will go to bed just so I can stop eating.”

Joan McCracken imparts Native American relationship advice to an entire crowded malt shop in infectious frenetic song and dance.

Moby’s latest.

Look at my baby!

“To the person who stole my 4 year old granddaughter’s paddling pool, I hope you drown in it.” At least they’re attempting to communicate.

And how we get ping-pong balls.


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