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The American aristocrats!


“That thar’s Titan, boys! An enigma wrapped in a mystery, cloaked in a tablecloth under an upturned dumpster in a tunnel under half a mile of methane ice! Well, what are ye waiting for? Hoist them laser torches, get cracking!” -from Traish LaRue in Space

Here’s the recording* of last night’s (2018-01-19) KNYO and 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, from this other place, which you might like better because it offers an instant-play option and isn’t surrounded by confusing flashing ads.

Everything promised came to pass: Sherry Glaser came by with her
Brooklynean entourage; they talked about animal rescue and animal
habitats, and Sherry read from her book of techniques to master madness.
Dennis O’Brien called to talk about his book on the subject of
international cooperation in the development of opportunities in space.
Zeke called to read his story and relate a little known fact of
homelessness: the black market in broken cell phones. Kay Rudin came in
with a poster for the Bob Ayres’ Big Band event that’s at Eagles Hall
tonight (Saturday night). Thomas arrived but vanished mysteriously.
Flynn Washburne’s tale of the Collateral Juvenile. Scott Peterson’s /The
Harder They Fall/, Mark Scaramella on the elusive grading ordinance,
/Candy Matson, Girl Detective/, and more; a full eight-hour show. All
the various gizmos worked as they should, and all’s right with the world
except, even as I speak, two houses are on fire within a couple of
blocks of the radio station, and when I stopped in Caspar to pick up
some work at five a.m. some loon was yodeling lustily like an angry
Tarzan in the shrubs across the street. It reminded me of when Juanita
and I used to live in Caspar and George, who lived a little north and
west of us, in back, who collected a labyrinth of dead Karmann Ghias
around his shack, used to go out at night and scream incoherently and
fire his gun in the air, and Michael would go over and yank the gun away
from him and tell him to go to bed and shut up, and that same George
ended up psychically intuiting a bad water pump in my then-Toyota and he
generously forced a fifty on me to get it fixed. He tried to give me a
hundred, but when I wouldn’t take it he put a fifty in my hand, closed
my hand around it, whirled around and strode away. I think that was 1994
or thereabouts. You know what? I would like to see David Attenborough do
this place as a special. Not Ken Burns; Sir David Attenborough.

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

Free, white and 21.

Some people from the shithole countries. My, that is a very red dress.
Try to look away and see how your eyes resist your control.


My baby just cares for me.

“Interactive wood combustion for botanical tree models.”

Torchwood, NC.

The rivers of Wales. (That’s where they filmed /Torchwood/, which is an anagram of Doctor Who.)



We’ve pinpointed the source of the mysterious energy, Captain.

Poverty, work ethics, and the good old days.

Kitchen demolition stop-o-mation.

A secretary is not a toy. (Juanita sent me the link to this. I’ve never seen the play it’s from.)

Cute snoots.

Pixilated NatGeo covers. All of them, ever.

“Praise His Name! Can ya FEEL the Good Lord burning that ar-thuh-ritis OUT of your baww-dee! BAM!”

Maybe Enzo knows something.

Why blue is so rare in creatures of color, notwithstanding the Blue Fugates, who I wouldn’t really say are all that blue.

What if Earth had a ring system like Saturn’s?

Chefs of the Space Food Service.



Wondermark on poverty, work ethics, and the good old days.

Why don’t they catch the man who did this to her? And do it to him.

Jack Teagle’s space travelers.

Another new kind of dance.

The last pencil factory in America. It won’t be too long, and you’ll say to someone, “Ehh, go peddle your pencils.” And they’ll say, “What?” And you’ll say, “Pencils.” And they’ll say, “What’s a pencil?”

More and more of America looks like this. On a nice day.

We can do the opposite, too! We can take filth from today and make it weirdly nice!

And when you feel like this, what are you doing? What activity in your life makes you feel like this ecstatic little architect?


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