[Kzyxtalk] This means phwoar.

[Marco McClean]

Subject: This means phwoar.

/"You don't have a skeleton inside of you. You're a brain. You're inside 
of a skeleton. You're piloting a bone mecha that's using meat armor."/

The recording of last night's (2021-09-24) annual Talk Like A Pirate Day 
Special Memo of the Air: Good Night Radio show on KNYO-LP Fort Bragg 
(CA) is right here:
https://tinyurl.com/KNYO-MOTA-0455

Thanks to the Anderson Valley Advertiser, which provided at least an 
hour of that eight-hour show's material. And the San Francisco Mime 
Troupe. Sorry about screwing things up last week, but I got the end 
episode of the Mime Troupe's summer radio series on properly this time, 
and it's pretty good. Lots of original music in the story, and there's a 
part where a character mentions sex in the kitchen, which jumped right 
out at me like a Jack-in-the-box and made me think of the film /Cherry 
2000/, where the dishwasher spills over so badly that soapy water gets 
into Cherry's mechanism, through her ear, and she shorts out, and the 
man has get off of her and venture away into the Forbidden Desert in 
search of the abandoned factory that created her, for replacement parts, 
to make her alive again. That's love.

BESIDES ALL THAT, at https://MemoOfTheAir.wordpress.com you'll find a 
fresh batch of dozens of links to not necessarily radio-useful but 
nonetheless worthwhile items I set aside for you while gathering that 
show together. Such as, for instance:

Circus day in our town. Well-cared-for animals, happy to work all day 
and all night pulling ropes and poles and other animals' cage-carriages, 
being whipped, chained, and teased by clothed flesh-colored monkeys who 
put their head right inside your hydraulic shredder of a mouth full of 
teeth like a bunch of swords, while all around thousands more monkeys 
shriek their shrieky laughter through air that smells like prey meat and 
prey sweat and excitement and fear, and lights are flashing in your face 
and you've never been free and everything is frustrating and wrong, and 
you're a LION, for fuck sake. Don't close the mouth. Don't. But.
https://boingboing.net/2021/09/20/scenes-from-a-vintage-circus-perserved-on-film.html

Vitamin D from the sun, our limitless node of psychic energy and source 
of all health and life. (These guys again, on the concentrated health 
benefits of the yoga of letting the sun shine up your butt, the 
[Something] Flower Position; I don't remember what it's called. This 
time they request of their bemused city council to designate a 
particular park downtown for people to have their 
not-at-all-gratuitously naked ritual and not get arrested again, because 
we have freedom of religion in this country, or at least we /did/, last 
time /I/ read the Constitution. That's the short version.)
https://misscellania.blogspot.com/2021/09/irvine-city-council-meeting.html

And Teddy Boys. (via Everlasting Blort) ...I had a few reusable mascot 
cartoon characters I appropriated and/or constructed for a newspaper I 
published from the early through middle 1990s called /Memo/. There was 
the Cute Little Dog, a mini-schnauzer or terrier; he looked like 
Tintin's Snowy but more like a real dog. There was the Blackbird of 
Weltschmerz (who brought the mail in her beak for the 
letters-to-the-editor pages). There was That Wacky One-Arm Girl, always 
smiling in the same pose at the breakfast table with an also-smiling 
Bob-Dobbs-like man who was sometimes her father, sometimes her boyfriend 
or husband, and they'd have a simple conversation in word bubbles, one 
bubble each; for example, he might say, "Ska-wunt. Ska-wunt-ska 
wunt-ska!" And she'd say, "/Daaaad! SPA-FON!" And there was Black 
Leather Teddy, a Teddy bear in a leather bomber jacket (not a 
camiknicker, or 'teddy', as you might think. I had a Dover-book clip-art 
jacket; I didn't have a clip-art camiknicker) and wraparound sunglasses. 
Sometimes the mascots would have a crossover adventure in a display ad 
or a boxed strip –one Easter-time the Cute Little Dog filled the whole 
cover page, with a magical shining holy halo of assorted objects and 
vehicles (washing machine, Eiffel Tower, candy bar, coffeepot, fire 
truck, sailboat, ice cream cone, etc.) circling his head; the caption 
was /HE IS RISEN!/ (meaning back from the dead, because in an earlier 
issue, in an ad for the binoculars store, I think, he was tragically 
martyred)– but most of the time they stood alone (except for That Wacky 
One-Arm Girl), representing, as the kids say now. Black Leather Teddy 
was meant to be John Lennon. Neither he nor the Cute Little Dog could speak.
https://www.magnumphotos.com/arts-culture/society-arts-culture/teds-chris-steele-perkins/

-- 
Marco McClean, memo at mcn.org
https://MemoOfTheAir.wordpress.com