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Tortoise is safely home, sleeping with the bees.


     “Look, whoever planned this stunt was smoking a lot of jazz cabbage, I can tell ya that much.” -Ze Frank

Here’s the recording of last night’s (2020-06-26) 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.

And here are links to worthwhile educational because sensational, sad, sick, triumphant, despairing, and/or merely gratuitously prurient 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:

Poor cherries. (via Everlasting Blort)


And ballet/contact-juggling a weighty broadsword. I know a guy who has a sword just like that, for historical costume drama fun. It’s not too heavy to pick up with one hand, but you can’t swing it like a sword with only one hand at the base of the grip, and two or three emphatic swings with both hands and your arms are tired and your lower back has made that /tchh/ sound that means it’s going to hurt for a week. When you see people fighting with these things in movies, and they hit each other and fall down and get up and just keep fighting for half an hour? That’s some bullshit. But the broadsword fight at the end of the Sean Connery film /Robin and Marian/ is entirely realistic. Two swings each, a single flat glancing blow on armor that staggers both combatants, swinger and swingee, and both sit down in the mud to catch their breath and discuss the wisdom of this course of action. All of that, and this waifish little superpowered tutu guy /dances/ with it and makes it look like it’s floating in the air. (Sorry this is a Facebook link. I can’t find it elsewhere.)

Hobbyist remote-pilots /500 mph/ toy jet back and forth and up and down. But how, without real-time telemetry and a VR visor? You count to three and it’s completely out of sight. It’s very exciting. FWOOOOSH!

One-minute 3D modeling tutorials. “Look at you, you’re the Pipe Lord, makin’ all these pipes. Pipes here, pipes there, pipes and more pipes. What’s even in those pipes? /You/ don’t know.”

Rerun: Circle world.

Police union boss barks about what unfair meanies people are who call cops thugs and disrespect them. Intercut with video inconvenient for his point. (Click the sound on.)

So far.

Who’s /really/ looting America? The same big unaccountable crooks who’ve been looting it all along, that’s who.

Tokyo at night with one or two people in the whole place. If Godzilla were to attack the city now it would look totally unrealistic; it would be like a man in a Godzilla costume knocking over little model buildings.

Stylish future plague-wear.

Blythe intaglios.

You know what’s weird? I see a thing like this, a trailer for a disaster movie and, after everything that’s going on in the real world, it’s /comforting/. It’s nice to imagine a world where we only have to worry about /one thing/ and that thing is not at all our own stupid fault but just something falling eternally around the sun according to the curvature of spacetime, and then suddenly there’s a planet with a bunch of tiny people on it, shooting at each other over whether to pray by bonking their heads on the ground or by mailing money to a teevee station. And then they look up, and WHAM.

Rise and fall of the Blockbuster empire. The animation is like watching popcorn pop, fill the pan, and then it all unpops again back to the way it was before. (via NagOnTheLake)

They’re spending a lot of money making a teevee series out of Isaac Asimov’s /Foundation/ books. I’m really looking forward to this.

How we get t-shirts and q-tips.

How we get silk underwear. (via NagOnTheLake)

It looks like a cartoon 1920s traveling salesman costume. Or a French music-hall variety show impresario. Or a weapon designed to attract a child and explode when taken to show to the gang. Or a kind of fancy candy, though it probably tastes like dust on a metal screen door, like the moth I ate when I was four. Moths are likely all very similar in flavor, though you might get an argument on that from a connoisseur of moths, such as a cat. One time a nearly microscopic gnat flew at my face and then shot all the way up my nose, and I was overwhelmed by a sharp smell all around me of /wet dirt/. It must have landed just right on a sensor cell. I know I’ve told you about that before. Anyway, circus moth:×932/smart/

How they write Rick and Morty.

The sound of science. Fan music and art about a game that’s almost /ten years old/. (via b3ta)

Music for prepared ukulele.

Seb Skelly’s latest, on ten horns. Yup, /Ten Horn Seb Skelly/, that’s whut all us gazebo-men called him, back in the Big War. “We will fight in the gazebos, we will fight in the pavilions and bandshells…” Stop, you. /What’s the first rule of Gazebo Club./

…Same thing but with piano added by cruise ship lounge entertainer (pre-COVID) Max Forseter.

They shortened their band name to The Chicks. Dixie had connotations.

The risks for the next little while. Space alien invasion is not even in a sub-menu.


Rerun: The Cerne Abbas Giant’s giant knob. “The biggest example of a noble British tradition that’s echoed down the ages.”

Ze Frank on snow monkeys. “Marriage? But Papa would never allow it… Elope? What about the zombies?”

USA, USA. (via NagOnTheLake)

Why America’s police look like soldiers.

There’s a thing I read the old Jews used to say, to not despair because “the whole /world/ isn’t crazy.” That’s right. And /she’s/ right. One day, if we grow up enough to not punch ourselves in the nose back into the stone age like a stupid Three Stooges routine on a loop, AOC will be president of the United States.

What was the internet like in the old days?

The even older days, when you could not only win a miserable little monkey in the mail but somebody actually tried to make money out of how kids would all think how great it would be to have a monkey in their hat.

A tale of two Californias in a graph.

The cure.

“Nah, just kidding. Screw that guy.”

An interesting store. Tattooing, needle books, band-aid, assorted random metal knick-knacks, old shoes. You can even get a chili-dog and a short beer.

A nice video essay about slap bass with plenty of examples.

The theorbo. Ken Sorbo is kind of a right wing lunatic, but if he played theorbo… Theorbo, Kevin Sorbo? The automatic accent you use is the same as for /Ee tubutu, Solo?/ Han shot first.

Do, do, do.

A particularly spiritual day’s page of Gunnerkrigg Court.

That’s true: of the two of them, Trump and Biden, Biden may be many things but he is not a whiny bitch.

Watch. I can drink water. Anyway, that’s a long story.

Ramming speed.×1000/media/img/photo/2020/06/photos-week-2/a19_1220307177/original.jpg

Karmical delivery.


How to make a popup book. (via NagOnTheLake)

The John Wilcock comic archive. (via Everlasting Blort)

My work is done here.

How ancient Egyptians really lived and worked. (via Clifford Pickover’s Reality Carnival)

Why is it even happening?

Fauve. About two boys. (In French, but you can turn on the English subtitles or not; it’s obvious what’s going on even with the sound off.)

“The object of my invention is to provide a means by which animals which burrow in the ground can be destroyed, and which trap will give an alarm each time that it goes off, so that it can be reset… This invention may also be used in connection with a door or window, so as to kill any person or thing opening the door or window to which it is attached.”

“Oh, it’s sweet! Yum. This is why the whites are so healthy.” (via Cliff Pickover’s Reality Carnival) I was fine until the point where the man says, “I am going to keep this paper and show it to my children.” I suddenly began crying hard, that full-body crying that gives you a headache. I told Juanita what was going on, and she looked up at me from her work and said, “See.”

That’s love.

100 days, 100 nights.

The marriage of Bette and Boo.

Oh, Nana. (click the sound on)

The Manhattans – Kiss and Say Goodbye.

The ever increasingly thrilling elaborate Miniatur Wunderland, the world in a nutshell.

Memorize the true names of the different fireworks.

War in Cuba? That’s a young man’s game. “Comes with pistols which discharge wooden ammunition for the purpose of knocking over the toy Spaniards and Cubans.” Or you could flick them with your index finger. Or crush their heads, crush, crush.

“I’m crushing your head. Crush, crush.”

Space. (via NagOnTheLake)

Everything is something else.

Science explains illusions.

I like this photograph. An attractive pet-owner passed the time posing for Stanley Kubrick, reading a paperback on a sweaty hot night. Of course the dogs are all long dead of old age. I wonder where the woman is now, what kind of life she had, and if she’s still alive somewhere. I wonder what she sounded like. And what’s the terrier-dog looking at? Maybe a piece of cheese. Also, interesting choice of three kinds of dogs to have, and it’s great that they’re all allowed on the bed.

Okay, here’s one with the terrier-dog looking at the camera and the Cocker-mix looking over there at the cheese. You pick which one you like more. (I know the link looks weird, with all those percent signs, but it works.)[Woman%20reading%20on%20bed%20with%20three%20dogs.]-24U39YXP3JD.html

Come dancing. It’s only natural. Just like the Palais on a Saturday.

How to ride on heelies without cracking your skull on the pavement. (Technically the leading injuries from these things are to the wrist and elbow.)


Which of the founding fathers owned slaves and had forced sex with them and so also owned all their own slave children? Trick question. It’s all of them.

And fragile white sadness. This is to make fun of Lana Del Rey. You can still think Lana Del Rey is cool and enjoy them ripping on her at the same time. Nobody is as cool as Lydia Lunch, Laurie Anderson, Vi Hart, Simone Giertz or Physics Girl, and so what? Everyone can’t be Simone Giertz (say yeertz) and go around inventing and building amazing machines and speaking Swedish, Chinese, Italian /and/ California English with equal fluency. Be the best person you can be, and be happy with that, or sad, whatever blows your skirts up.

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