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Alarums and excursions.


     “A person reveals his character by nothing so clearly as the joke he resents.” –Georg Christoph Lichtenberg

Here’s the recording* of last night’s (2017-08-18) 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, 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:

Nina Paley’s latest animated short subject.

The best eclipse info video I’ve seen.

You are as cold as ice.

Rerun: Russian shaman lady, mistress of the mystical Jew’s harp.

Zell for defense! (Rocket-assisted jet launch tech.)

Socialism is as American as apple pie. A comic-strip history lesson.

Abbreviated demo reel of Roger Deakins‘ cinematography.

Slow-motion air view of Charlottesville Nazi lunatic car attack. Buildings are kind of in the way.

Here, this helps to understand:

…And the view from behind.

Domino-setting machine.

250,000 dominoes. At the end they introduce the team who set them up. You’ve seen these kids before.

It’s called a Trautonium.

Say you’re the cymbal player in a school band and one of the cymbals falls off the strap. On the one hand, I know he’s just saluting the flag, but on the other hand, see how he’s pressed every button on the bass drummer’s attraction index. She’s amused, impressed, everything. Afterward, who knows what will develop between them? Maybe in the band room, after everyone’s gone home, on a pile of band uniforms. The smell of cotton dust and brass polish. Faint rumble of a truck going by on the highway in the night. Air. Salt sweat. Maybe a little blood.

Lurid pulp cover art. My favorite: /Nympho Librarian/. It’s mainly her glasses, but also that her sex victim will not give up the book. Also, /Zora: Il collezioniste de testa/. And of course, /Odds Against Linda/, for the expression on Linda’s face. She’s hanging by her tied-up hands, and she’s like, “Again? Eh, phht, whatever.” And any of the ones with clean-shaven Nazis getting kicked in the nose.

(Lt.) Ripley’s Believe It Or Not.

Liana Finck is a cartoonist both in and of real life. Meaning, like Mervin Gilbert, she’s a great cartoonist because in real life she is a cartoon character.

Jupiter. (Click on image to effectuate embiggification.) The article about this says north is to the left, which is weird because I always thought of the Great Red Spot as being like Jupiter’s Australia. Hmm.

Magic carpet ride.

So, we know this is a trick. What about all the historical miracles, then? Are they tricks?

How to make Japanese shiny mud balls.

Contact juggling accompanied by bass and accordion.

Contact juggling with running around and leaping over chairs.

Kendama, the traditional Japanese cup ball toy. Nobody calls it the Japanese yo-yo. Anymore.

An architect’s dream.

The last peaceful place on earth.

The beachcomber bar. I can see a place like this taking off in Fort Bragg.

The problem with bulk food. The advantage is: you don’t have to worry about rats or mice. The disadvantage is: yeeech.

The future of commerce.

Good Vibrations broken down musically.

A dance to spring.

Immortal Vespa (the opera). “Farty toffee makes me smoke. Farty, bossy mother in law.”

I’ll be watching you.

Ladies and gentlemen, the master race:

Cross-linguistic onomatopoeias. Easy for you to say.

So that’s four bwaas, then, or five? Five bwaas.

Port of Amsterdam. Free college, free health care, sensible drug and prostitution laws, decent social security all around, and a million little boats. Yay, Netherlands!

What to do in case of nuclear war. 1. Don’t look. 3. Lie flat on the ground. 9. Wash your hair, but don’t use conditioner “because it will bind radioactive material to your hair.” 10. Blow your nose. So, basically, just common sense. Also, it doesn’t say, but don’t scratch at where the flesh is coming loose; that just makes it all fall off at once.

I like the paneling and the linoleum. And the kind of singing. I know people who can do it like that, but I can’t. I can’t make the Scottish/Spanish/Swedish rolling-R sound either.

Man shoots video by holding phone out window of airplane. Air blows phone out of man’s hand. Phone, still recording, falls to earth on someone’s leaf-strewn lawn. Peaceful minutes pass. At 7:20 in the recording, homeowner rakes up phone. “Hup! Air zher phone. How’d the hail it git down there?” “Ish dadda gaddub… This ain’t mah phone!” “Awd ain’t?” “Nar. Mahn’s in mah pockit.” “Wash dara gah’dem.” “Gart recawerding owen too.” “Ho.”

Sure, go ahead, put your precious children in the giant food processor. It makes perfect sense.

Or this.

Tornado peels houses into bits and vacuums DNA-like trails of resulting debris up into the sky.


Farpoint Station.

Miata engine stop-o-mation dismantlement.

“Good day, sir. Soap? Of course.” Then, “No soap for you. Not in this town.” (That’s the robot voice I imagine it speaking in.)

Chase. A short video showing how this is like that.

An ad for flying robot machine guns. What could possibly go wrong?

The Onion explains the Iraeli-Palestinian conflict.

“Other less-plausible theories involve aliens, secret weapons gone awry, and a murder-suicide pact.”

And, a lazy paddle-pole through an abandoned ship resting on the bottom. With slightly distracting camera-angle-foreshortened ice-cream-cone legs, tattoo on right arm(,) (Oxford comma) and giant perfectly spherical belly.


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