DFO Radio: The Future

For those who missed my relentless shilling for it and were confused by the structure and content of last week's Request Line, it was an homage to Jon Bois' speculative piece of multimedia fiction 17776. Something about that piece really struck a chord with me.  I read most of it in

Request Line: The Future

    Hey.   Hey.   Stinger.   ...   Hey.   HEY!   ...what?   Stinger?   ...am I...?   Yeah, cool, I thought that was you.   ...where?   You're in orbit, man. You remember how you got there?   I remember being on fire. I'm not on fire now. Why am I not on fire?   Ain't no oxygen in space, buddy!   How...   You got flipped out of the gravity well by Bronco. You remember now?   I...yes. I'm

Request Line: Rock and/or Roll

INT. RECORDING STUDIO - DAY The PRODUCER sits behind his desk, while a harried-looking DJ3000 escorts a pale-faced and shaking ROOMBA to the exit. DJ3000: ...AND I PROMISE YOU THAT WE WILL NEVER ASK YOU TO DO ANYTHING LIKE THIS AGAIN. ROOMBA: [makes sad chiming noise, leaves] PRODUCER: Man, I'm surprised he didn't just

DFO Radio: Crippling Alcoholism

As I mentioned, this isn't the fun-time alcohol party mix. This is the dark side.  I'll let David Foster Wallace share some words on the process, and how bad it can get. (And don't anybody go worrying about me; this isn't a cry for help or anything, as Balls Of

Request Line: Crippling Alcoholism

EXT. ARIZONA STATE HIGHWAY 87 – DAY A car appears to be stalled in the breakdown lane of the northbound lane.  A pair of state troopers, identified here only by their Breitbart.com handles MLK_NO_WAY and ARPAIO4EVR, emerge from their vehicle and walk forward.  The younger-looking of the two - MLK_NO_WAY - unbuckles

Request Line: Intros and Outros

INT. RECORDING STUDIO - DAY The PRODUCER sits at his console looking incredibly vexed. PRODUCER: I can't believe he didn't show up. DJ 3000: Maybe he's sick. PRODUCER: In the middle of the summer? Come on. DJ 3000: Perhaps... PRODUCER: You and I both know it's because he's too hungover to get his ass in gear. DJ

DFO Radio: Stripped Down

Rikki-Tikki-Deadly (from the DFO World Cup Open Thread): Okay, if I stay put and watch the second half, it will be a dull, interminable slog that ends with Belgium winning 3-0 on a joyless penalty shootout. If I bail the second half will be the greatest half of soccer played in

Request Line: Stripped Down

INT. RECORDING STUDIO - DAY The PRODUCER and DJ 3000 stand outside the recording studio, gazing into the booth.  PRODUCER: Wow. DJ 3000: I KNOW, RIGHT? PRODUCER: I mean, I'm not... DJ 3000: OH, ME NEITHER. PRODUCER: But if I was.... DJ 3000: OH, YEAH. CRISTIANO RONALDO: Você está pronto para o rock? PRODUCER: [punches talkback button] Oh, you know

DFO Radio: Eponymous and/or Naming Rights

Last week DFO Radio's regular groove got busted up by Courtney Brown, who nonetheless was coached up to deliver a session that actually worked.  In retrospect a decent host for a Request Line with the theme of "naming rights" would have been Antonio Cromartie, but there's no way to unring

Request Line: Eponymous and/or Naming Rights

INT. RECORDING STUDIO - DAY. We join the show already in progress... COURTNEY BROWN: Hey, so people can call in and request songs? PRODUCER: Yes. That countdown I gave you? That meant the show was starting.  Playing music is what we are supposed to be doing right now. BROWN: Can we make outgoing calls? PRODUCER: Yeah,

DFO Radio: Wanton Destruction

I've never lived through a major natural disaster before.  I saw my share of Nor'easters growing up in New England, but nothing that cost us more than a few days worth of school (I grew up in Wethersfield, which made the process of listening for school closures on the radio