Wrádio WULADica
So apparently there's this radio show called Open Source on PRI, which is sort of the AFL to NPR's NFL, or maybe the XFL to NPR's NFL Europe—although they do This American Life, so I guess I should give them a break—anyway: apparently they put together this compendium of blog posts from last Tuesday, in tribute to Bloomsday (see below), called it "Blogsday," and had the posts read by actors as a sort of grand democratic audio pastiche. 
(Another web-quaintance of mine was also selected, which I assume is how they got here, possibly from one of my comments on his site such as the one which resulted in his calling me a "motherless whore.")
I had several thoughts on having my cyber-scribblings added to this project. Here they are:
Thought 1: Hey, that's great, I'm on the national airwaves, even if they did pick the least clever and entertaining paragraphs ever to flow from my virtual quill. And even if the actor delivered the lines as if I were a wild-eyed sports fanatic rather than an ironically detached cynic who nevertheless clings to faith in a few remaining incorruptible ideals such as the masochistic love for an ungrateful group of overpaid growth-hormone abusers, displayed through the symbolic waving of brightly colored foam fingers. But hey, at least I'm on the air.
Thought 2: Well, I understand that they didn't have time to ask permission, but I do have a Creative Commons license which allows for credited borrowing, so no biggie. And it'll be great to hear them mention C-Baby's name. Oh, except they edited out that part. Oh well, I'm sure they'll make some quick credit on the air. Huh, they didn't. Well, they'll probably list the contributors at the end. No, I guess not. Well, they did say they'd post credits on the website, and maybe I'll get some new traffic from that link. Hmm, that's interesting, they only posted the credits to the halfway mark, and I'm forty-five minutes in. Well, I'm sure they'll update that soon. (Haven't yet.)
Die-hard WULAD fans can listen to the show here (my "contribution" is at 45:30); I warn you, however, that the collage effect can be a little jarring, and serves to make my writing seem even more trite than it already is—something like:
Man's voice: "...So then my buddy picked his severed leg off the blood-soaked ground and we crawled back to Checkpoint Alpha Bravo on our hands and knees..."Anyway, "All Things Considered," (Get it?!) I suppose it's a good thing, even if they did feel the need to say, "No certifiable geniuses that we've discovered today." Tell that to the "Certified Genius" certificate on my wall, sumbitches!
Woman's voice: "...looking into my baby's loving eyes for the first time..."
Man's voice: "Go Mets! Woo-hoo!"
Woman's voice: "The biopsy results are due back today."
[Note to producers of said show: Please use my stuff again. That chest-beating was an act. I love you.]
NOTE: Today is the last day to enter the poetry contest. If you gonna bring it, bring it.
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