104.5 - there goes the last human voice

[hard_talker]

[ten o'clock on Monday night arrives with its usual slow fanfare: the pulse and gravel of Leonard Cohen's music sliding over the airwaves and the journals. this week, Mark lets the whole song play out, then chuckles softly as he lifts the needle off the vinyl]

God, I tell ya, guys, it's good to be back, as strange as it sounds. We had a nice little listener turnout last week, let's see if we can keep the ball rollin', huh? Hard Harry likes talkin' to you folks, and hopes you feel the same. ... Not a whole lotta fresh meat this week, but everyone get on board the welcome wagon anyway for Cimorene, Marceline, Zoe, Shego, and Thamuris. Maybe there ain't many of 'em, but strength doesn' hafta come in numbers. I'm willin' to bet that at least one of you is really somethin' else in some way or another.

[there's a pause, the crinkle of cellophane and the snap of a lighter as he takes a slow drag off a cigarette, and lets it out with the briefest clearing of his throat before he launches into his weekly editorial]

Yanno, I been doin' some thinking while I was looking through this crazy magic book we all call our lifeline to Castle Wonderfuck, our way-too-near and not-so-dear home sweet home ... and it looks like eeeeeverybody's gettin' introspective, lately. Maybe it's all the people gettin' their boarding passes to whatever passes for a flight home, their walkin' papers, their discharge notice, whatever you wanna call it. Maybe it's that so much shit just keeps slowly goin' on as usual, but there's somethin' under the surface. This place is - the attitude goin' around, it's like that bruise you wake up, find, and don't know where the fuck it came from. You've all gotten one, you what I mean! You get up, you take your shower, you've got a towel around the bits you don't want anyone to see, maybe one on your head, and as you're goin' for your socks or your shorts or your over-the-shoulder boulder holder, you spot it, and sure as shit, you all say the same thing:

"How the hell did I get this stupid thing?"

No idea, guys. Even I don't have a clue. Maybe an hour or so from now, or a month, we'll remember what the fuck we all banged our collective shins on. S'pretty likely we'll never know. But even so, you guys all got me thinkin': it's not really about who comes and who goes, even though every single one'a those people is important. It's what they make, or do, or say while they're here that gets remembered. There's a gorgeous damn mural down in the clinic. Do I know who made it? No, but I sure as hell like lookin' at it every time I go see the people I know that work down there. And for that, I thank Random Mural Guy. Those of you who like the lemonade tap in the kitchen, you can thank one of at least a few guys who've been here and gone by "The Doctor". You're all gonna be remembered for somethin', each and every one of you out there. The question you gotta ask yourselves is: what?

Me, I dunno. Probably my big mouth. Or maybe the music. Whichever one it is, I've already exercised one pretty well tonight, so lemme give you the other. This week's dose of decibels comes from some close personal friends of mine, The Red Hot Chili Peppers. I'm gonna kick it off with a song that they loved enough to want to put on one of their first albums - but their producers hated the damn thing and shitcanned it for a good five years before they let it see the light of day. By the time it finally hit the airwaves, it got all the way to lucky number seven on the charts... which just goes to show you that record producers don't know shit, and they should just listen to the goddamn musicians. Without further ado, I give you "Behind The Sun", and other refinements: some of which haven't even been written yet, for me, which is still one hell of a mind-fuck, even after almost two years.

[and with that, on goes the stereo. enjoy your RCHP, Paradisa]

Comments

Oh my god you said over-the-shoulder boulder holder. *Dying now*

[silentrunning]

[Chell's still down in the lobby destroying the place... But when ten oclock rolls around, she's down on the floor next to her journal. She is still frustrated, still annoyed, still angry. But the broadcast helps some. Now if there was a way to tell Mark she listened... But there's only one thing she can do. Leaning her face directly against her journal, she lets out the loudest kitty purr she can, followed by a joyous little mew-squeak. You know, the kind a cat makes when they're happy to see a friend... And then she jumps back up on the sofa and starts shredding shit again. There's a shattering of glass coming clearly over your journal, man. Enjoy the pandemonium. Thank god she waited till *AFTER* the broadcast.]

It's Mark, how could I NOT?

[hard_talker]

... Oh great, someone I know's a small fuzzy animal again. [he laughs] At least you're sufficiently pissed off about it, yeah?

You knew she'd step on glass eventually, right?

[silentrunning]

[She climbs down again, and lets out a meow in the direction of her journal...A very frustrated meow which is shortly followed by a small howl of pain. The ferocious destroyer of Castle Wonderfuck's lobby has just stepped on a shard of glass from one of the lamps she broke. Nice job breaking it, hero.

She sits down on the floor next to her journal, head down, chewing at her paw and trying to remove the shard of glass while growling at herself for being stupid enough to not look closely enough where she's going. Damn this Castle. Damn it all. This would be so much easier if she had hands.]

[cyan_maid]

What we'll be remembered for when we leave, huh?

But what happens when there's no one here to remember it? Will the ghosts remember?

[hard_talker]

That's one fuckin' bleak thought, Jane, thank you for bringin' the levity to the party.

I dunno, though. Good question. We do have that Wanderer's Yard thing with everyone's names on it. Never seen it, myself, but I know plenty of people who have.

[ftssusstgsetfwe]

A lot of that was really confusing, but...

I think I like it. [Except for the part where it makes her think about leaving.] It's interesting to think about how we'll remember the people who leave.

[hard_talker]

Thanks. That's the kind of reaction I'm generally happy to get - you're not alone, a lotta people don't know what the hell I'm on about most weeks.

You one of those people from the 1400s or some world where they don't have records, or something?

Dictated

[ontheclockpro]

Henry Townshed.

That's the random mural guy.

[hard_talker]

Whoa, holy shit! ... So, you knew him?

Hard Harry

[wizard_redfive]

[Ouch -- he just had to bring up the Doctor. The ache in her chest returns, though it's dulled slightly over the past few weeks. Process of healing and all that.]

I know what I want to remembered for.

Dairine

[hard_talker]

[he misses him, too. even if it's not the same Doctor, he knows what it is to be a Companion and to miss him]

Lay it on me.

[inafadingcrown]

[Ignoring all the crudeness...Mark's hit on something very elf-like, there. She's thought, time and again, that the castle provides mortals with a small taste of immortality- sped up, of course. The comings and goings, the loss- it's all too familiar.]

It is a powerful thing, memory.

[hard_talker]

Sure is. ... I think I honestly feel th' worst for the people here who get memories taken from 'em or screwed around with. You can learn t' live without possessions or stuff you knew how to do ... but memory, that's a part of who you are, no matter what it is.

[eat_me_beat_me]

[Nora sways with the music, humming softly as she cleans off one of her brushes. She smiles over her shoulder at him]

[hard_talker]

[he grins] What'cha workin' on this time?

[flightof]

So, if my understanding is correct, you perform this every week?

[she's still understanding the place ok]

[hard_talker]

Sure do. Monday nights at ten on the dot, castle fuckery notwithstanding. I take requests and questions and stuff, but usually people don't gimme many, so I just end up doin' my own thing.

[inharperwetrust]

I'm already a genius. What more's there to be remembered for?

[hard_talker]

Something a little more specific. Self proclaimed geniuses are kinda a dime a fuckin' dozen, here.

[written]

[lioneyed]

Do you keep track of everyone who arrives?

Thank you for the music - I don't think I've heard anything quite like that.

[hard_talker]

Sure do. I try to keep tabs on everything I can. Name's Hard Harry on Mondays, and Mark the rest of the week. Which of our esteemed newbies are you?

Dictated forever

[onlyanapple]

It's Eden. The mural. A very accurate depiction of it. Apparently I was here before and described it to that...Henry bloke.

I don't know, I don't remember any of it, it's weird. But that painting could only be that accurate if it was described by someone who was there. So I suppose there's truth in what I've been told.

[hard_talker]

That ... Is pretty fuckin' weird, I gotta admit. But if anyone here would know the place...

Hey, is that bit about the flaming sword true?

Dictated

[the_effect_she_has]

Must I always be remembered? Sometimes I think it would be better to be forgotten...

[hard_talker]

The hell would make you say that? I mean, I know back home's no bed of roses for ya, it ain't for me either. But here, we can still make a difference, yeah?