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John’s not a squealer.


     “When secretly pyrokinetic co-ed LaTawndra, shy heiress to the Hot Pockets fortune, hires very ripped swoon-worthy time-traveling fireman/spy/luthier-apprentice Zack to protect her against an undead dragon-shifter horde, will their scorching sexual chemistry break all the rules? [6 upvotes]”

Here’s the recording of last night’s (2020-02-21) KNYO and KMEC Memo of the Air: Good Night Radio show, ready to re-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 awhile. And you can go to Links To Recorded Audio, see above, and hear older shows yet, though the farther back in time you try to go, the less likely it is to work right, just like real life.

I’ve been told that I’m too cryptic and that I should explain things more. Okay: I remembered a magazine ad from my youth for a then-new kind of toilet valve designed to be quiet, to turn the water on full-blast until the toilet tank was all the way full and then quickly shut off, to not squeal the whole last third of filling. Across the top of the ad it said, “John’s not a squealer,” and that stuck in my mind. I just searched for it from several different searchical angles, to see the ad, and apparently it’s too obscure even for Google. There’s a bunch of material in last night’s show about plumbing and toilets. And every show I read a couple of BookBub’s recommendations for books, where I checked the boxes for 1. children’s literature, 2. erotica, and 3. science fiction, so the result is always either a book about a little boy or girl duck, lizard, robot or dinosaur learning to tell time or cross the street, or a chesty-cover-art romance novel about vampires or werewolves (or werebears or weredragons, called dragon-shifters) (or firemen or Navy Seals or cowboys) in space and the human librarian, hand model, waiter/waitress or attractive young congressperson who they have to hire to protect them or pretend to be their wife or husband for an important space, um, thing, whatever, but they end up falling in love for real and always, in every case, /breaking all the rules/, so that explains the title, the goofy fake pull-quote and one minute of an eight-hour show. If there are no further questions.

Next week the whole first part of the show will be a brand-new live radio drama put on by Kylie Felicich’s Community Center of Mendocino theater group of kids, and I don’t know the title of the show or anything about it yet, except that it might be in Italian. Why don’t /you/ come in and be in the quiet but appreciative studio audience for their show and hang around after to recite poetry or show off your accordion chops or roll out your standup schtick? Mark it: 9pm Friday Feb. 28 in KNYO’s storefront performance space, 325 N. Franklin, Fort Bragg CA, next door to the Tip Top bar. You don’t have to get permission or arrange things in advance or even put on a clean shirt, or a shirt at all; this is radio. That’s the beauty of real radio. You don’t know, but in the old days a lot of radio people performed in nothing but socks and shorts and a cigar between the fingers, or they wore pyjamas and a bathrobe, or an animal suit, whatever they were comfortable in as long as it didn’t muffle their mouth or pose a danger hazard or create what the law calls an attractive nuisance, like when tourists climb up a stupidly designed sculpture and fall and hurt themselves. A lot of those shows, the audiences too came dressed, or undressed, like the later beatnik hippie freaks, like the /Rocky Horror Picture Show/, for example, which was written by fans of Jack Benny, Joan Alexander, Korla Pandit, Arthur Godfrey, Rosa Rio, and so on. All their normal-in-the-bank but on the radio stage weird-with-a-beard (or the other way around) heroes.

Speaking of which, here are links to worthwhile educational and/or sensational 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:

Animal hat-heads.

Ze Frank – The mating dance of the peacock spider.

Randy Rainbow’s latest. Randy Rainbow is a national treasure.

Latest award winning landscape photography.

Groundhog Day for a black man.

Further but real-life Groundhog Day for a black man adventure. One of millions. It’s okay, you can watch this; he doesn’t get shot. But when he gets out of the car to go ask the policeman something, you’re like, /No. Stay in the car. Just get away./


Diabetes, fine either way, nobody will judge you. It’s like either either.

The gardening-with-dynamite book. Bottom line: it’s good for the roots.

Inside view of a hedge.

Hairstyles of Mark Zuckerberg. (via Everlasting Blort)

How we get rabbit fencing.

Elemental mercury is twice as dense as iron, so a solid iron anvil floats twice as high out of the mercury as an anvil made of wood would float in water, but it still looks weird, and the guy’s pretty cavalier with his backyard buckets of enough mercury to poison the entire western United States, and maybe someone should do something about that.

“I wanta be addicted to rollerskating, not crack. Because kids who rollerskate today will go to college tomorrow!” That’s really true. It’s not just a cool thing to say. “I say no to drugs. I say no to meth. I say no to unplanned pregnancy. I say /yes/ to rollerskating.” (via

A new kind of rap song. I never saw a lot of The Muppet Show, but weren’t there some of the Muppets who sounded like this? It seems familiar.

This is fine.

This is like that.

Blanket octopockles.

The baby-Yoda-level-adorable tiny flapjack octopockle.

Flying snake, lizard, frog, fish, etc. They’re really only flying like a paper airplane flies, but in slow-motion it looks pretty cool, especially the snake that makes a wiggly wing of its whole body by /stretching all its individual ribs out flat/. [Spoiler alert:] When the lizard gets away because /surprise!/ it can fly too I’m exactly equally happy for it and sad for the hungry snake. And what if they both found something else to eat and became friends? Wouldn’t that be nice. They could climb and fly around together and laugh and play and, later on, cuddle out of sight of the other animals who would shun them and laugh at them and call them perverts if they knew, but it wouldn’t matter because they’re friends and they have each other. But then they’d start getting tattoos and weird earrings in even weirder places and develop an unemployable attitude, and what are ya gonna do? They have to find out for themselves; it’s their lives.

This is a test.

And that’s what comes of thinking. At last, though, there is a solution.

See, she’s crying. Her eyebrow and eye floating in the air in front of her face are dripping with tears. His are too. Screaming and swearing doesn’t help.

An x-ray of why not to put your feet up on the dashboard.

Death roulette. (Click on Spin That Wheel.)

The Snowdons of yesteryear.

The new donkey bike. (via Nag On The Lake)

As I understand it, three or four obscenely wealthy tired old men have ordered everybody to be kicked out of here to flatten all this and put up a couple of giant ugly buildings instead to obscenely wealthify themselves further, because that’s life. Or, in French, c’est la vie. In Samoan: o le olaga lena. Or /ith am beairteach/; that’s /eat the rich/ in Scottish Gaelic. Maybe not, though. Maybe it’ll be better, something wonderful.

Sculptures made of dryer lint.

Geodes made of felt.

How we get fireworks.

Some more about the new way of making films. They ring a set with video screens to make, like, the room in Ray Bradbury’s story /The Veldt/.


The Bosch parade. (via Nag On The Lake.)

The peanut vendor (1933). “Buy a bag of peanuts now before you sleep.”

Sea creatures of New South Wales.

Ol’ Cthulhu No. 9.

Trains of the future.

The Boing 377 Stratocruiser. (Scroll down for color, and for the cutaway diagram.)

Dreamlike flight…

…And some more. This makes me think of the first fifteen minutes of the movie /Tomorrowland/. Remember where young Frank says, “Because if people see someone fly overhead with a jetpack it will inspire them.”

Of the two, I like the cat whose hands are bigger. They seem like two old people having a kind of dialogue over lunch on a park bench.


Axolotl nuns.

Superior kangaroo tendon sutures.

I see this as a perfect peaceful zen Tom Waits recharging between gigs, dreaming up his next brilliant poetic sandpaper vocal-fry electric-bullhorn gargle.

A great game. A bit of danger involved.

To hear the bosses tell it.

But is it racist, much less “clearly racist”, if they can’t possibly have been serious or they’re just high on mushrooms? I mean, what the frack /is/ this? (Next there will turn out to be millions of people in the world who find this arousing, with secret clubs where they all dress up like various versions of this and poke at each other’s teeth and stuff.) (And weren’t there Star Trek aliens like this? And if not, why not?)

And this similar offense: some egregious anti-water-elf racist cosplay here, or maybe anti-Red-Shiny-Robots-Of-Vortis. (via Everlasting Blort)

Conducting. (Click the sound on.)


Some car ideas from the real space age.

Construction workers atop the Chrysler Building. Pounding on eagles.

Weavers of memory.

Hydraulic press channel top 100.

Skyrim in real life. (via

2,600 undelivered letters from the Dutch version of 1926. Even the website is like a treasure hunt.

All up in everybody’s bidness.

Rerun: Under.

You’ll notice they all seem to be boys, though. This makes me think of Sherry Glaser’s Mother Nature routine.

This is actually three tricks. The mirror is a red herring.

This art makes me think of the mechanical video pixels in William Gibson’s and Bruce Sterling’s book /The Difference Engine/ (about computers in an alternate Victorian-era England).

Choose a genre and mood, suggest a topic, and this A.I. will write decent song lyrics for you, and then all you have to do is form a band and practice in your buddy’s garage for awhile and attract a neighborhood following, and pretty soon you’ll be playing at school events, and weddings, and in park bandshells on holidays, and then get scouted and get a record contract. Avoid alcohol, heroin and bad management, don’t sweat the small stuff, get enough sleep even when on the road, and that’s all the advice I have for you. You’re just coming into your power and this is an exciting time, kid.

An infomercial for a company that makes old-fashioned LP records, that’s a fast walk-through of how records are made, in case you ever wondered…

…but they left out the part when the lathe cuts the lacquer in the first place. You can always look that up if you like, but here is a good explanation of the mechanical motion of the cutting head itself, using an oversized demo model the guy set up so you can really understand how two separate signals get cut into the same groove, for stereo:


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