Jump to content

Radio Hell - Ninth Level


Michael797
 Share

Recommended Posts

This just in - a vote has been cast for A) Free Bird. Here in Pennsylvania (or what I like to call "North Arkansas"), that song has been played at more funerals than "Amazing Grace." Go check it out on YouTube. Or don't.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Replies 125
  • Created
  • Last Reply

Top Posters In This Topic

This just in - a vote has been cast for A) Free Bird. Here in Pennsylvania (or what I like to call "North Arkansas"), that song has been played at more funerals than "Amazing Grace." Go check it out on YouTube. Or don't.

 

I prefer "Free Falling". But you need to sing the lyrics like this:

 

"Free BALLING".  As in you're going commando.

 

No, that's not a typo. Carry on. Sorry to interject with my ridiculous humor.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Here in Pennsylvania (or what I like to call "North Arkansas"), that song has been played at more funerals than "Amazing Grace."

 

I would like to humbly suggest you go with "North Alabama" instead. We do have some semblance of civilization out here-- theatre and art and radio stations that play something other than all Lynard Skynard, all the time. Just sayin.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Being in hell makes us all feel weird doesn't it or is it just me.  My favorite hockey team won tonight. does that help.  Oh Hell what difference does it make anyway.  We need some music! Where did the dj go?  RH Manager are you slacking again? Am I going to have to change the dial?  Awe shit..what is this world coming too.  <3

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Sorry for delays. The Widz/Bereaved Parents World Tour is hitting the road today cheering up other people. We'll be back later with more random madness. In the meantime, due to popular demand, we're putting Free Bird on a continuous loop. Cyas later.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

We're back, sort of. As previously mentioned, we were on the road with lots of visitation - including landing at Bud's mom right on top of a crisis. It seems the funeral home had delivered Bud's cremains just minutes before, so we arrived just in time to defuse another major meltdown. Good timing, yes?

 

Anyway, tomorrow is another big day for slightly different reasons. By tomorrow night, we may be reporting the acquisition of a YUGE WORLD-RENOWNED SPONSOR. It should be pretty exciting, so we'll give you more details as soon as we have them.

 

For now, we wish you all a pleasant and nightmare-free evening. Over and out from Radio Hell.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

This station needs a graveyard DJ. It's 3 am out here in West Hell, well and truly the witching hour. Creepy thoughts galore, despair lurking in the corners. Anyone else out there hoping for a call in show?

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Sorry for the delays, but - you know, life and stuff. Since this is the first weekend since Ground Zero, we may or may not be doing any live broadcasts for the next few days. But before we put the mp3 player on autopilot, we'll put up a few broadcasts to cover the interim.

 

One is a rerun from way back in September of 2014 when your humble station manager was only about six weeks out; you'll note the complete lack of style, finesse, or anything else that humans sometimes possess. It may inspire some discussion, which is still not a terrible thing. Feel free to post your comments.

 

The other is a blob of fresh snark resulting from recent events. Hopefully, none of it will mean anything to you, but you're free to use any of it as you see fit.

 

From Radio Hell, have a weekend.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Original airdate: September 9, 2014

 

In spite of all better judgment, Radio Hell is back. And today’s transmission is not for the squeamish (or easily bored). Today we take on the very stuff of life itself in our first segment of “Point/No Point.”

 

Today’s topic: Is There a Point?

 

You’re widowed. The other half of your very soul has been snatched from your loving arms. You’ve lost the right to be loved, to be touched, even to be looked at. You’ve become a five-year-old child who somehow got separated from his/her parents at the store. You’re lonely and terrified. But nobody’s calling the courtesy desk to reunite you with your lost lover.

 

In the aftermath, you distract yourself as best you can – but as soon as the distraction ends, all the sorrow comes flooding back as if it never left. You don’t know what to believe anymore. There isn’t a bumper sticker on earth that has the answer to your problem.

 

You’re asking yourself “What’s the point of all the pain, the desolate isolation, the absence of human contact, the sleepless nights?”

 

And that’s a very good question to ask.

 

Is there a point to living after loss, or isn’t there? Does life have a purpose, or is it just a random bunch of stuff that means nothing in the end?

 

Let’s examine your options.

 

POINT:

You’ve decided that there is a purpose to life. Your spouse’s death was a test, sort of a purification process. Everybody loses someone eventually; it was simply your turn.

 

Perhaps you believe in a higher power. Your body is like a vehicle that gets your spirit from one place to another. Even if your car becomes totaled in some unfortunate accident, or perhaps simply rusts away from old age, it doesn’t mean you’re done driving.

 

Someday you’ll be reunited with your departed lover. In fact, they’ll be waiting for you in the light. The two of you will get to shoot pool with Ben Franklin while you listen to Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, and two of the Beatles (three, if you think John buried Paul) wailing on the stage. You’ll swoon to Sinatra or indulge in debate with Einstein and Newton. All you have to do is stay pure of heart and take better care of yourself. Be patient, and be kind and sympathetic to all your fellow souls. You will find your redemption, and it will be worth the wait. All are equal in the eyes of your Lord.

 

Perhaps you believe that everything happens for a reason. Your bereavement is part of your destiny. You’re spiritual, but you don’t buy the thought of a Gandalf-looking supreme being with a long white robe and beard (or a little old man with a Hofner cigar, for that matter). You were with your spouse to learn about love. Now that you understand what true love is, perhaps you’ll recognize it if it comes again. You’ll take the lessons you learned and use them with someone else. You won’t be alone or lonely for much longer. Fate has more in store for you; all you have to do is be there to receive it. You will be with your lover again, but it will be much more evolved; it will be deeper than what earthbound life allows.

 

Perhaps you believe there’s a point to life, but it’s not redemption. Perhaps you feel that your loss is some sort of punishment, that you’re steeped in bad karma. It is not your lot to be happy in this life anymore; your only hope is in the next one. You’re simply paying off your eternal debt.

 

NO POINT:

You’ve decided that there’s nothing after this life. There is neither fate nor destiny. You’re in for the dirt nap, you’re going boots up, you’re worm food, your next stop is the ashtray.

 

So where do you go from widowhood?

 

Perhaps you go through an appropriate period of mourning – then you explode back into life. You decide that your time here really is too short; you have no intention of wandering the earth as a vagrant ghost, always observing but no longer LIVING.

 

After all, nothing ever drops into your lap, does it? It’s life’s cruelest joke; the more you need something, the less likely you are to receive it. There are no miracles. There’s no divine intervention, no rest for the weary. You decide that life must be sought after and taken. Who cares if you make a few mistakes on the way? Who dares to judge you? Nobody! You’ve paid your dues, you’ve stared death in the face and survived. You plan to live again, love again, and make every second count. You’re grateful for the good times, yet you have so much more to share. Your new life begins now.

 

Or perhaps your period of mourning isn’t going away. You really put all your eggs in one basket, didn’t you? Your spouse was everything – and now you have nothing. And you’re completely unprepared for life now; you’re paralyzed by fear. You’re incapable of choosing anything. You suffer in silence as life slips away. You find no redemption, and you’ve stopped looking. Your party is over and you’re stuck with the check. You’re not ok with that, but you’ll never be ok with anything ever again.

There is no point to anything anymore. You simply wait for death to take you. Perhaps you decide not to wait.

 

One way or another, you have to make a choice. What do you choose? There WILL be a test. In fact, you’re taking it right now.

 

As always, Radio Hell welcomes opposing viewpoints. Today’s transmission was sponsored by the Society for Octo-Polarity. And special thanks to Jims_Jen for proofreading and acolyte duties.

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

People are strange when you’re a stranger. And nowhere else is that truer than when people approach you after your loss. In keeping with our policy of public disservice, RH would like to offer up some of the comments we here at the station have heard over the past few weeks, followed by some of the replies we wisely kept to our own damn selves. It is our hope that you won’t relate to any of them.

 

TOP TEN OR SO THINGS FOLKS MIGHT SAY TO THE BEREAVED

 

1. “It takes time.” - Ok, see you in 20 years; I should be fine by then, right?

 

2. “God never gives you more than you can handle.” - Yes, he does – that’s exactly WHAT he does.

2a. God did this to test my faith? Tell him I failed big-time.

 

3. “(Your dear departed) is everywhere now.” - Everywhere except right where I left him, here on earth.

 

4. “You’ll see him again.” - If you know so much, what was he wearing when he hit the pole?

 

5. “Want to get drunk?” - Absolutely. Waking up in a dumpster would enrich this situation so much more.

 

6. “God loves you.” - Yeah, like Glenn Close loved Michael Douglas in Fatal Attraction.

 

7. “I’ll call you when things have calmed down.” – Given how far you’re about to run to get away from me, a phone call is probably logical.

 

8. “Sorry for your loss.” - Apology accepted, but you better not ever lose anything of mine again.

 

9. “God called him home.” - So God can use a telephone, but he doesn’t know shit about email?

 

10. “Have you thought about adoption?” - No, but I bet your parents did.

 

11. “There are no words.” - Actually, there are. “Anytime, anywhere, for any reason at all. If you need me, ask me.”

 

NOTE: None of the above applies to widow/ers. They get it. We promise. TTFN from RH.

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Ohhhhh, I remember this one very well. I still haven't successfully resolved the question, but at three years out, maybe I can stand to get a little philosophical.  I guess you could say I took option 4: ingest a lot of antidepressants, get good and numb, and hope it all goes away. Life in hell becomes existence in purgatory... eh, you get used to it.

 

But I have to say that this is a timely topic. For some time now I've been asking myself, "What comes next?" I have no idea-- none, zip, zilch. I was up at 4 am pondering this, in fact, but I'm no closer to an answer. Nothing I wanted out of life is relevant anymore. That's not all bad; it means I've accomplished what I intended. So I can go, right? All done?

 

Nope. In the course of achieving my various ends, I've acquired certain... obligations. Family. A few friends. Not a lot, but enough to keep me here for the time being. Truth to tell, it really bites sometimes.

 

Okay, so I'm here. Looking down the barrel of-- what, thirty, forty years? More? (Not less, obviously. Life is not guaranteed to any of us, I realize-- now more than ever-- but I couldn't get that lucky.) How do I fill that time-- productively, if not exactly happily?

 

Good damn question. I'm drifting along waiting for lightning to strike, for screaming klaxons, for something. I know, I know, I'm supposed to be responsible for my own future, but I wouldn't mind a few hints.

 

My therapist intimated to me yesterday that she doesn't feel I need regularly scheduled sessions anymore-- "just check-ins now and again." Does that mean I'm fixed? Or at least Beyond Active Grieving? Past the acute stage and into the chronic, maybe, because we all know that it never goes away. Mostly I just feel... empty.

 

So, yeah, what's the point? Keep breathing, keep being useful in some way. Keep hoping for better, some would no doubt add, but I'm not among them; whatever hope I had for resuscitation or renewal is long gone. I have no idea what happens now, what possible purpose my life can have beyond the standard obligations. I'd like to think there's something down the road-- this long, long road-- but I've lost any capacity I ever had to imagine what it could be.

 

Those are my singularly unhelpful thoughts. My apologies-- they're probably better left unspoken. You'll have to look elsewhere for sentiments like "this can only make you stronger" and "it'll be okay in the end," but commiseration and a sounding board? That I've got.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Having survived the weekend (barely) and the power outage (someone unplug a cord yesterday morning?) Radio Hell is back, reminding you that things can always get worse.

 

The Japanese have a tradition called Kanreki, which loosely means second childhood. When you turn 60 years old in Japan, you wear a red hat and/or vest to signify that your second life has just begun; you're considered a kid again. Isn't that kinda cool?

 

Here in the states, we honor our children (depending on your political affiliation), but we don't hire them. Suffice it to say that your humble station manager has been income-less since the beginning of the year. That may change with an exciting opportunity to work for the good folks at Starbucks; I'm basically hanging around the phone in the hope that they call by tomorrow as originally promised.

 

All of us here at the station are hoping you'll send some vibes our way so we can land this job and take our shot at Kanreki. Please send your auras in care of Radio Hell - and thanks in advance for the karma. We'll keep you posted.

 

And thanks for the responses to our previous broadcasts; we love us some feedback!

 

If anyone needs us, we'll be at the storage unit looking for shit to sell on eBay. Laters.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

We're back. Some progress has been made, one might say. I actually got through a night without a nightmare. Given that the past few weeks have consisted of replays of the car crash mixed in with various scenarios where I'm being shot at by SWAT teams, last night might be considered sort of a huge deal.

 

None of this, btw, is meant to scrounge for pity. It's just residual psychic garbage that tends to pile up unless there's a nice big hole to regurgitate it into. This thread is my landfill, and as long as it's here, no pity is required.

 

So let's move forward (or something) and bring up the role of FAMILY in the healing process. Judging by some of the threads popping up here of late, family can be a questionable source of comfort for the bereaved. Many of you have experienced whatever-the-opposite-of-comfort-is at the hands of your blood kin. Impressively, sometimes your family can shock you even when you were convinced that nothing could ever shock you again.

 

There’s an appropriate quote floating out there that says something like “Your friends are the family that you choose for yourself; your family are the strangers that you grew up with.” I’d put my two sisters up against the strangest members of your family any day of the week. Example: I mentioned to my sisters on Mothers’ Day that I had applied for a job at Starbucks. After a solid barrage of comments along the lines of “There are plenty of jobs out there!” (No, there aren’t), “Starbucks doesn’t pay anything.” (Actually, it’s not that terrible and they offer health insurance and college), and “You might as well just go to McDonald’s.” (which is sort of true), they both looked at each other and, in unison, came to the conclusion that it was my destiny to be a Manager at Burger King.

 

Nothing against the hardworking employees of Burger King or the foodstuffs they offer, but I would assume that the franchise would be more likely to hire managers with something resembling managerial experience. But my sisters were undaunted, insisting that Burger King will train anyone to be a manger, including me. They PERSONALLY KNEW A GUY who went through management training at Burger King and is now living a FULFILLED LIFE (at about 36 grand a year). Sounds sweet, doesn’t it? When I left, they were both chanting “Manager at Burger King!” to the tune of “No Wire Hangers!”

 

I got a text from one of them this morning; “Have you checked out Burger King yet?”

 

Folks, with that kind of support, how can you go wrong? No, I didn’t tell them about my nightmares; I’m sure that would convince themselves that all my sleepless nights would be cured with a liberal dose of Whoppers.

 

Let’s end this transmission with one last quote. “All in all, you’re just another brick in the wall.”

 

Better luck to you, dear listeners. Laters from Radio Hell.

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Bonus Rerun Transmission - because whatever. Original airdate: 10/19/14, sort of modified.

 

Here are the latest transmissions (there’s something REALLY WRONG with that radio):

 

15. Saw this old, old man, all hunched over and with a cane, hobbling into a restaurant, and thought “lucky bastard.”

 

16. Where did all my friends go? Do I have the smell of death ON me or something?

 

17. Is it possible to be octo-polar?

 

18. You couldn't at least give me the lottery numbers in a dream?

 

19. I bet she's hanging out with Robin Williams and Joan Rivers. I'm jealous.

 

20. I wonder if you could get thrown out of a grief group for “bringing everyone down too much.”

 

21. Here’s the problem. You were intending on spending the rest of your life with this person because he or she taught you what love really is; love works best when it’s being transferred back and forth between two people. It’s that constant flow from one to the other that builds up that energy, that euphoria. And you think that now that you’ve found that person to give and receive all of that love with, you’re going to be able to feel that bliss forever and ever and ever….

 

And then suddenly the other person’s gone. And now you have this huge backup of love that you’ve been collecting and growing… and suddenly you have absolutely nowhere to go with it.

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now
 Share


×
×
  • Create New...

Important Information

By using this site, you agree to our Terms of Use.