Just as we thought the on-air fund-raising had gone legit, here come the in-house scammers, crawling out of crevices in the moral fibre of Lew Hill's marvelously non-conformist wall, long since cracked by predecessors in pursuit of personal agendas. Where was Mr. Hatzis, the newly installed Program Director, the savior summoned to correct the destruction left behind by another "savior," Tony Bates? Did Berthold Reimers, WBAI's inert General Manager, come out of hibernation, roused by the desperate whines of tenured opportunists? Did frantic five o'clock fossils aim their tongues at yet another PD? Whatever lies behind the stagnation, it does not bode well for the promise of WBAI as a returning champion of unvarnished truth in broadcasting. The soapbox Lew Hill hammered together in the post WWII years began to come apart in the late 1960s, when Larry Josephson and Steve Post took it over, but there was still room for the occasional voice in the wilderness. Then, this year, as WBAI came too close for comfort to the edge of extinction, along came an Aussie. Was that a hammer in his hand? Did we see a box of nails? Was the soapbox about to be reassembled and open to fresh voices? Some of us thought so, and it may still come to pass, but if there was a bright light up yonder, the summer "fun" drive cast an ominous shadow to dim it. I hope I am being overly pessimistic. —Chris
So they drank the double helix water and generated more disdain for
WBAI than money. What now? Oh, let's give 'em a heavier dose of
conspiracy—get me Mother Mud, have Bobbie do his psycho act on
Psy War—no, it's not an act? Oh, well... and let's have Kathy do her
Quant number, the one with the extra deep vibes. Make sure thatMichael G. is wound up and that the phone ringer fx gizmo is turned
up to the max. That ought to do it.
What's that Berthold? No refund on them empty little bottles? Damn!
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