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Fall equinox. Got woad?


     “Woad’s the stuff to show, men. Woad to scare your foemen. Boil it to a brilliant blue and rub it on your legs and your abdo-men.”

Marco here, bringing you the recording of last night’s (2022-09-16) Memo of the Air: Good Night Radio show on 107.7fm KNYO-LP Fort Bragg (CA), ready to re-enjoy:


Thanks to Hank Sims of Lost Coast Outpost here’s a page with not only the above MOTA show but also other ones going back quite a way. And thanks to the Anderson Valley Advertiser, which provided almost an hour of the above eight-hour show’s most locally relevant material without asking for anything in return. And consider wee bravely struggling KNYO itself. Long may it wave. Even longer if you were to help out via the big red donation heart, or merely buy a bottle of Bob’s fresh KNYO hot sauce. Try it, it’ll surprise you.

Here’s a link to my relatively new dream journal project on Medium that I started at Xmastime of 2020 and have been keeping up. I just posted a fresh week’s worth of dreams.

FURTHERMORE, here are some not-necessarily-radio-useful but worthwhile items that I set aside for you while gathering the show together, found mostly thanks to the fine websites listed to your right.

The Woad Song, also called the Woad Ode, accompanied by autoharp beneath a staircase, the accepted setting. Flanders and Swann wore woad on stage to sing this in the 1950s (with undershorts, not entirely naked) but no video exists of that, so make do with this.

Notice what great bar-band names they’d all make, now that bands are playing in bars again.

More projects like this in the world is what we need. Pure joy. “Would you teach me your dance move?” “I’d love to,” she says.

Peep. Worlds within worlds.

Hinged dissection. (via Clifford Pickover)

Sons of Kemet – Your Queen. (via b3ta)

Brown Ariel. Good. About time.

“Leave it, Devon! Leave it!” (via b3ta)

A.I. page paints pictures from your text prompt. For my part, I suggested /dancing bee-cats in estrus on another planet in a hall of mirrors/, clicked on Generate Image and, after a minute or two, was presented with an array of disco-lit images involving upright bipedal fuzzy bee-like/cat-like things enthusiastically thrashing and bumping at each other and possibly doing the YMCA routine– in halls of mirrors. Clearly it works, and for free. Try it out with your own prompt.

The Bible, illustrated by artificial intelligence. Scroll down and down. (via PerfectForRoquefortCheese)

Colonizing the cosmos.

Nice things people built. (Scroll down and down and down.)


Wade in the Water. This is just their sound check.

There’s No Business Like Show Business (full movie, 1954)

Tears of a clown.

Now you do what they tolja.

Master of puppets.

Art. (via NagOnTheLake)

Hillary Hahn – Sibelius violin concerto. (via Garrison Keillor) (36 min.)


Mermaids. (via TackyRaccoons)


I don’t get how this is a problem. They’re all veterans. They’ve seen girls before. And this /is/ her day-job.

Fish, 5 cents/lb. (that’s $1 in today’s money). Ribs, 10 cents/lb. ($2). Flour, 6 lbs. for 18 cents (60 cents/pound in today’s money). Gasoline, 5 gal. for 85 cents ($3,38/gal in today’s money).

“The mistake of ’58.”

How memory works.

The good news is, we haven’t hit bottom yet. The bad news is, we haven’t hit bottom yet.

“Oh, look, it’s going everywhere, hang on… I can’t bear this bloody thing! What they do, every stinking time.” What a world, what a world, so difficult.

The story of tattoos. I still think self-mutilation is creepy, but do as you please. Tattoos, because at least they heal up, are not as creepy as hooks and things through the flesh, or stretching out a hole in your ear or lip until the flap hangs all the way down your neck (or stretching out your neck, the way you might have seen people do in National Geographic), but it’s a difference in degree, not in kind. It all makes me imagine how unhappy I’d have to be to do something like any of that to myself and i flinch away from the though. Even just a bull-pull ring in a shopgirl’s nose. Bleagh.

Tattooing in slow motion. (via MissCellania)

Billions and billions of Martian pixels. I like the way the narrator says the word /important/. The first T in the word. It’s how I say button and Latin and literal.

A typically superlative musical post of TackyRaccoons.

Kent Wallace’s part of a Vietnam symposium on tourism. Speaking of Kent, I’ve started serializing another book of his on the show.

Next Gen bad lip-reading.

“Doesn’t matter. I’ve got a bunch of judges.”

Slices of a Menger sponge, all the doo-dah day. (via Clifford Pickover)

Lighted drone ballet at Burning Man.

Art, art, art, art. (via Everlasting Blort)

Math worms. (via Clifford Pickover)


Long gong.

Bear with us.

Bonobo sex ape builds fire, toasts marshmallow.

Terry Bisson – Bears Discover Fire.

Chinese skyscraper becomes a tower of flames. People trapped inside comment on their social media and record video, because why not?

In honor of our fallen heroes.

Ron Taylor. I like this guy. He swears a little bit; I’m just letting you know, in case that bugs you.

“Beatles, please, stop fighting here in India.” (via BoingBoing)

Sure, it’s funny how fat and squishy-looking this representative couple grew in thirty years, but compare the face expressions. In 1992 they were vacuously peeved children. In 2022 they seem content, aware, and far less evil-victimy, more like good neighbors, the kind who’d leave you alone to do /your/ thing but also be right there to competently help if you ever needed some. Which couple would you prefer for neighbors, the before or the after?

Research always pays off. Even if it only pays the wackos who somehow persuaded someone to pay them to pretend to do it.

Alcohol churches.

Okay. I want to see this.

And this.

Are you a bird who can only go weh-weh-weh-weh-weh-weh?

Glass. Glass. Gu-lass. [tink! tink!]. Glass.

This idea is very old and still good. The demo reminds me of the episode of /Eureka/ where tragic robot Rain’s fizzing circuitry sets Beverly’s house on fire. Henry and the fire brigade show up. The sheriff, who called them, says, “Is there anything I can do to help?” Henry smiles, says, “Tch. This is Eureka.” He shoots a magic-science weapon in through a window and the whole fire instantly goes out, phoof.

150 years old, in fact, that idea, and it stuck around for awhile. I remember seeing these in yard sales.

Scluh-rap fluh-yap…

Ospedale delle bambole (say oh-spee-DAL-eh deh-luh-bam-BO-lay) (sing to the tune of Lazy Mary).

Artisanal dollhouse guy.

How big?

Fashion in whale songs. The hits just keep on coming, and going.

The b3ta caption on the link to this: “Yes, OK we’d like you to take a simple, iconic melody. And fuck it to death. Like, totally fuck it with all the notes.” (You might have to click the sound on.)

“I did this the hard way. I did not have to share. I want to save us. It took me 50 quarts of maple syrup at age 31 to feel lest hurt. May take 100 quarts at age 62, over 4-5 months.” (via MissCellania)

These are all real wood, too, not particleboard and plastic wood veneer. If people hadn’t thrown them all away or broken them up for firewood they’d still be just as beautiful. Close your eyes and recall the comfort-smell of dust, vaporized kitchen oils and cigaret smoke cooking on and within a nest of orange-hot vacuum tubes. See how it takes you back?

The trailer for a show about infinity.

And 118 mph with a 50cc motor in 1965. The piston-cylinder is the size of a pill bottle. A small pill bottle. At high enough revs for the sound to shatter glass. Glass, see above.

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  1. Helluva list, looks like I’m gonna be busy for a while. Might have to call in sick.

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  1. Kakistocratic Hot Links – Tacky Raccoons

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