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Crisse de câlice de tabarnak d’esti de sacrament.


    “Spud spoke sharply. He had been scared, he was mad, and he aimed to be madder. He began swearing, soft and mild at first, as his custom was, then as his wrath stood up in him, he got into the swing of his language and the air before his face changed color. He used the deep cussing of seamen, the low, venomous cussing of cattlemen, the freighters’ whiplike oaths, and what he heard from the Mississippi roustabouts when he was a kid at home. He cussed the cussing of Mexican muleteers when they’re feeling fine and want to tell the world, and when, at the end of a long desert day, a mule falls and spills its pack, and another mule steps on their feet. He used the dreadful, whining cussing with which Finn sailors can stop or start a storm, and his father’s terrible Irish wrath, and Navajo and Apache and Ute words of shriveling strength, and coureur de bois talk, and Kit Carson’s main oath on top of the lot, and all along through it he wove in and out the ideas that came to him, the voice of his anger pouring itself out full. The warriors ducked, raised their shields and touched their medicine bags. Cochise put his fan before his face, and twice he half raised his hand to ask Spud to stop. As the cowpuncher’s voice died away at last, there was a thump on the ground between them, and the buzzard which had been sailing high above fell to earth, scorched clean of feathers.” -Oliver LaFarge, Spud and Cochise

Here’s the recording of last night’s (2019-01-04) KNYO and KMEC Memo of the Air: Good Night Radio show ready to enjoy. (Left-click for instant-play. Right-click to download.) And thanks to Hank Sims of Lost Coast Outpost here’s a page with the latest show and also other ones going back about a couple of years. And you can go to Links To Recorded Audio, see above, and poke your pointy snoot about in the past any time you want to, as long as you’ve done your chores. Chores first.

Something went wrong with the connection to KMEC for about a half-hour or so circa 3am, suspiciously during the time I read a long article revealing the psychological and linguistic former mysteries of swearing, including the clinically dissected swears themselves in full bloom, but no problems with KNYO, and the recording is of course complete.

Besides all that, here are links to further worthwhile educational and evocative items that I set aside for you while gathering last night’s show together, found mostly thanks to the fine websites listed to your right:

Frames of reference.

The Hubble Ultra-Deep Field in 3D.

Infernal topography.

Charity and Andre. These amazing young Mormons grew up less than twenty miles apart. They’re both children of dance studio operators so have been dancing since they were toddlers. In one of the dances here, Charity had a broken foot (!), but the show must go on, even hampered by only-slightly-modified garmies (the magic stiff anti-Satan underwear Mormons all wear everywhere, including in the shower).


I especially like the recurring part of this weird dance that’s rather a /Good evening, Miss Marionnnnn/ sway. Notice how you move just a little bit in your chair, in sympathy.




Seeing this sort of training always fascinates and horrifies and amuses me to an equal degree. There are all kinds of things to think about here. Memories of dogs set on black people and protestors and workers on strike, etc. How happy a dog is to know what it’s supposed to do. The fact that that’s the arm-suit guy’s day job, there. “How was work today, honey?” “Yehh, you know. Fine, I guess. I lost another button.” “What happened to your nose?” “Nothing. Just a scratch. Anyway, why the third degree, Barbara?” “I’m sorry, I just get bored here at home all day with nothing to do but sweep, and wash clothes, and drink vodka, and watch teevee.” “Oh. Well, why don’t you come to work with me tomorrow? We’ll be together, and you can take a turn in the arm suit, and after that we can go to Taco Bell. Make a date of it.” “Yes. Yes, I’d like that, Bill. Just a minute; I’ll get my sewing kit and do something about that button. Tch, tch, now where did I put it?”

Who’s a good boy?

Cleaning a painting.

Rerun: Font fight.

Like, whenever.

My favorite is the one about what the ant said to break up with his girlfriend.

1000 foot-pounds of torque. 128 miles-per-hour in 1925. Dead silent except for the air rushing by and the astonished cries of drivers of roaring modern muscle-machines that you pass like they’re standing still. The Doble E-20 Steam Car. (For the short of attention-span, skip ahead to about 17 minutes in, where he starts it up and drives it out on the high-speed freeway, no problem.) (Jay Leno’s Garage.)

The Jay Leno’s Garage episode about the Stanley Steamer, made /19 years even before/ the Doble.

I love these happy people. What a band!

The real Santa. A deal is a deal.

Comprehensive reviews of the different cheap frames and things you can use to make great bacon in the microwave oven.

“What.” “What?” “What?” “/What!/”

And yet, how dignified they seem.

Speaking of buttons, here’s a button to make everything okay.

I love the sound of this. If you couldn’t see it and you missed the part where he (or she, it’s not clear) says, “I’m never gonna fly again!” what would you think was going on?

Why NASA spun people around but doesn’t anymore, but might again, in a thing that you would have cut off a finger to be able to ride when you were young, but now you’re more like, “You kids go on and have fun. I’ll be over here with a couple of chili dogs.”

Music inspired by, but apparently not informed by, space science.

Pew-pew! Patchooo! PewPewPew!

Rerun: Some kids’ low-budget film cleverness. Much more dangerous than it looks.

Article about new tools to bring dreams to life, with video.

Complete giant 3-D map of 1940 San Francisco made of little bits of painted wood. This was a WPA project.

You can take the beaver out of the river but you can’t take the river out of the beaver.

Chittagong ship-breaking yard.

Cool story about the revolutionary Aeroflot TU-114.

Australians in WW1.

“When you do the firework, don’t be the sorry jackass. Be cool. Use the eye protection provided by the responsible venue.” Safety music.

Design history of the periodic table.

Another educational children’s video from Bill Wurtz.

Puffy fashion.

Manatee 503.

I know that look.

The best optical illusion in awhile.

Oreo encoding.

The log’s point of view. It’s very like the stargate sequence in 2001: A Space Odyssey.

Crank art.

The real Betty Boop.

Bruce Lee. Light nunchucks against light saber.

Something like this is why some people stay together for so long though they never seem to really get along well. They really are getting along.

The Bureau, part ten.

David Yearsley wrote this in the Anderson Valley Advertiser about Rita Hayworth and her singing voice Anita Ellis: (I’m not sure whether it’s behind the paywall.)

(Anita Ellis overdubbed) Put the Blame on Mame, from /Gilda/.

(Anita Ellis overdubbed) Amado Mio, from /The Lady From Shanghai/.

A startling insight into Escher. “It was not all imagination, we must conclude now.”

And Lily Hevesh said Happy New Year with dominos and an extended exploding chain of craft tongue depressors.


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