From the New York Times review of a memoir of depression by Australian poet Les Murray:
“Killing the Black Dog” is rowdy and plainspoken. The details of what he went through, the weeping, the rage, the incoherence, are harrowing. It’s typical of Mr. Murray to give his late-night turmoil a jaunty name. He calls it “the 4 a.m. Show.” Mr. Murray’s brand of pirate radio, broadcasting at any hour, is worth turning the dials to find.
(Complete article here.)
When radio is dead and gone, either literally subsumed by digital services or when the remaining mystery is squeezed out of it, what will replace radio as a metaphor for a deep, not entirely understood channel of communication? Somehow, ‘My Own Private App’ doesn’t have the same ring to it.