BBC4 is the British Broadcasting Company‘s talk station, or “intelligent speech radio” as they described it on the internet radio tuner, and it lived up to the tag: everything from documentaries on 70s two-tone ska to live sketch comedy to “Gardner’s Question Time.” This became a favorite of mine because, although I’ve never grown anything in my life, I found its format so quaint and odd: a live call-in gardening show featuring a panel of expert horticulturalists and a live studio audience. There was, of course, news on the hour, but also that strange and rare bird of the airwaves: radio drama. I definitely resisted it at first, some of it being either too kitchy or horrible but, so desperate to escape the data I was compiling for a study on stock trades, I inevitably was swept away by the stories.

One groggy morning, uncharacteristically punctual, I tuned in at 9am on the dot just in time to hear a jaunty little orchestral theme that kicked off a radio play about a country village in which nothing much seemed to happen all that much from scene to scene, apart from the loss and eventual recovery of a cell phone in a dairy grazing field. Then, at 2pm (1900 GMT) another 15-minute installment. This time I caught the name which, due to the accent of the presenter, I mistakenly took to be “The Arches.”  Again, the drama went from scene to scene without much event, but caught my ear. There was no narration but like a fly on the wall, you could hear characters talking and subjects discussed, and you could tell something was happening, just maybe not at the moment.

I listened again the next day, and then next, mostly because I had nothing else to do, but also because I got a strange thrill of achievement every time I recognized a character’s voice or understood what they were talking about. Somehow the bouncy little theme song got stuck in my head and I began to get excited when I got back from lunch in time to hear it as it launched a new episode. Little by little, it began to take huge importance in my bleak existence and I began running back from lunch when I realized I was late for it, and got inordinately pissed off when I was. As the weeks went by, I slowly began to recognize more and more of the characters’ voices and got deeper and deeper into the stories, started wondering about and researching their histories.

That was two years ago now. A lot in my life has changed, but I haven’t missed an episode since. I started listening live on BBC4′s streaming player, then discovered the streaming on demand at the show’s website, but these days I mostly take it in true junkie fashion: podcast. Fifteen minutes, every day for two years. I don’t think I’ve ever done anything as religiously.

————

Come to find out it’s got an amazingly rich history: it’s the world’s longest running radio drama (I consider “soap opera” a pejorative term) and was originally a co-production of the British Ministry Of Agriculture as a means of disseminating farming information during World War II rationing and food shortages. They still do discuss farming topics an awful lot (mostly sustainable & organic agriculture issues) but over the time that I’ve been listening, they’ve touched on a number of controversial and thorny personal topics with amazing sensitivity and depth: homophobia, sexual assault, racial & religious intolerance, dealing with Alzheimer’s, and the effects of the economic downturn — not to mention what it’s like to co-parent your son with your own brother as your ex-wife’s new husband. Long story.

Anyway, I encourage you to give it a listen. And hang in there: there’s an amazing web of characters, relationships and backstories that takes time, but is worth getting used to. And if you do, please be in touch with me! I need Archers buddies (I can also provide much-needed plot background if you get lost). I’ve been coaxing friends to listen for years and though some have made a valiant attempt (thanks, Brooke!), no one’s really become as fully hooked as me. I even got blank looks from my English friends the last time I was over, many who can’t stand it, most saying they think their mum listens to it. But still it soldiers on, and I’m beginning to think I will grow old with it.

This week’s episode of “Poli-Sci-Fi Radio” (a weekly politics and science fiction radio show and podcast that I do with Washington Monthly blogger, Steve Benen) featured a discussion inspired by last Friday’s episode of “Dollhouse,” in which a woman who was murdered is brought “back to life” in the body of Eliza Dushku because she’d had the foresight to scan all of her thoughts and memories before she was killed and then after her death those thoughts and memories were implanted in one of the Dollhouse’s “actives” so the woman could go back and solve her own murder.

If you don’t watch “Dollhouse,” the above explanation probably makes little or no sense to you, but the discussion we had on the radio quickly went beyond the episode’s plot and became a discussion about the nature of identity w/r/t the SF concept of teleportation. (If you’re curious, this discussion takes place in the last 1/2 hour of the two-hour episode.) Here’s the 50 cent tour…

Suppose someone invents a teleportation device (like the transporter from Star Trek). Bob steps into little teleportation booth in New York, there’s a flash of light as the precise position and orientation of every cell, molecule, atom and quark in Bob’s body is scanned and that information is “beamed” at the speed of light to a similar booth in Paris, where a machine, using some local material, reassembles an exact replica — down to the subatomic structure — of Bob. This perfect replica of Bob (who literally is Bob is every measurable respect) then steps out of the booth and from Bob’s subjective experience, he stepped into a booth in New York and stepped out an instant later in Paris.

Great! The problem is: what happens to the “Bob” that stepped into the machine in New York? His atomic structure was scanned so his body could be replicated in Paris, but all of the material that made up the Bob that stepped into the machine in New York is still there, standing in the booth, wondering what he’s going to eat for dinner in Paris. He is still there, that is, unless the teleportation process kills him.

In science fiction movies and TV shows, at the moment of teleportation, the starship captain dematerializes in one place and rematerializes in a new place, as though her atoms were being physically moved from one spot to another. But from chemistry we know that a carbon atom is a carbon atom is a carbon atom — the physical constituent matter that makes us up isn’t anything special — it’s the arrangement of that matter that makes us live, breathe and think as conscious beings. So to build a working teleportation machine, all you really need to do is scan the precise positions of each particle of material and reassemble those bits in the right order in the destination spot using whatever materials are present at the new location (assuming all the right constituent elements are present in sufficient quantities).

So that means that at the moment of “dematerialization,” what’s really happening is that the starship captain’s atoms are being destroyed — she’s being killed by the teleporter — and a new identical version of her is appearing on the planet’s surface. From the perspective of the now planetside captain, everything is hunky dory — one second she was on the transporter pad and the next second she was standing on the planet’s surface. But what about the perspective of the woman who stepped onto the transporter pad and was annihilated? Did she show up on the planet’s surface? Are there two separate consciousnesses or just one? Can she choose to not have her original body destroyed, thereby yielding two distinct people? Should she?

This is only scratching the surface of the implications of such a technology. There’s a bit of a comments thread going on at the PSFR post. For the record, despite not believing in anything like a “soul” and being aware of the fact that my consciousness is merely the result of the collection of physical stuff that is me, I am deeply troubled by this thought experiment and I, for one, would never choose to step into such a teleportation device, not knowing whether “I” would be the copy that stepped out of the booth in Paris or the original that gets destroyed in New York. The commenters at the PSFR blog so far agree with me, but on the show on Sunday Steve and Emily did not. They were just fine with the simultaneous annihilation and creation of themselves in the teleporters.

What do you think? Would you let yourself be “transported” in such a fashion?

For other takes on this problem see…

• The Ship of Theseus paradox
• Four Reasons Why “You” Don’t Exist
• The Emperor’s New Mind by Roger Penrose
• The Prestige

Cross-posted at Candleblog.

Some bulletpoint notes, to make it more official:

• I did my best to work in all of the requests.

• It’s a good bit longer than the regular installments.

• For some reason, the selections leaned towards garage-rock sounding stuff.

• "Weird" Al Yankovic can be pretty unnerving.

• I had nary a sip of wine throughout the entire session.

The Contrarian’s Corner Halloween Podcast: The Devil’s Toolshed

In other news, today is a super-big day. First up, I’m heading in to the Future of Music Coalition offices to ease into my new role as Communications Director (more on that later).

Also, intrepid political contributor James P. Caldwell has been granted temporary furlough from the Naked City. He’ll be swinging down to DC for a super-summit that should make the SALT II talks look like a Bratz episode. Not that I have any idea what the latter actually looks like.

Podcast tracklist below the fold:

Black Sabbath: "Black Sabbath," Black Sabbath

Witch: "Black Saint," Witch

Witchcraft: "Merlin’s Daughter," Firewood

Screaming Lord Such: "Smoke and Fire," Smoke and Fire

Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds: "Stagger Lee," Murder Ballads

Neurosis: "Shadow," Given to the Rising

The Misfits: "Horror Hotel," 3 Hits From Hell

Coven: "Pact With Lucifer," Witchcraft Destroys the Mind and Reaps Souls

Miasma and the Carousel of Headless Horses: "The Pale Staircase," Perils

"Weird" Al Yankovic: "Mr. Frump In the Iron Lung," Weird Al Yankovvic

"Main Theme," The Shining Original Motion Picture Soundtrack

Blue Öyster Cult: "The Revenge of Vera Gemini," Agents of Fortune

The Specials: "Ghost Town," Greatest Hits

Alas, as I am on deadline, so are all of you. Today at noon is your last chance to submit your choices.

So get to it, my little ghoulies. I’ll check in later.

PS: Last year’s installment is available here.

In honor of the wee baby ProgBlog, I recorded a special podcast, which I’m posting both here and over there.

This entry is concerned primarily with psychedelic music, although not all of the artists represented have traditionally been categorized as such. I more or less stayed on the heavy side of the aisle, so expect molten licks and melt-the-fretboard axe maneuvers. This ain’t the flutes and wizards shit, oh no.

Tracklisting, etc. below the fold. Enjoy:

The Contrarian’s Corner Podcast — "Psych Splatter and Guitar Gore"

Opener: The Beatles — "Blue Jay Way"

1. Gong — Outer Temple, Angels Egg. Available at fine record stores, if you get lucky.

2. Comets on Fire — "Lucifer’s Memory," Avatar. Available everywhere. Well, not eMusic.

3. Amon Duul II — "Eye Shaking King," Yeti. Special order-able at record stores, Forced Exposure, etc.

4. DMBQ — "Smoker," Esoteric Black Hair. You’ll definitely have to order this, online or at a shop.

5. Pink Floyd — "Take Up Thy Stethescope and Walk," Piper at the Gates of Dawn. If you can’t find this, I can’t help you.

6. The Psychic Paramount — "Para5," Gamelan Into the Mink Supernatural. Online; Other Music/Aquarius-type shops.

7. 13th Floor Elevators — "Tried to Hide," I Have Always Been Here Before Roky Erikson collection. Readily available.

8. This Heat — "The Fall of Saigon," This is 1. Downloadable at eMusic; available at the better stores.

9. Eduardo Bort — "Yann," Eduardo Bort. Might be a little tougher. Not everything is in print…

10. Burning Star Core — "The Universe is Designed to Break Your Mind," Blood Lightning 2007. Underground shops, iTunes, eMusic.

It’s been some time in the making, but the new podcast is finally here.

You can call it a special edition, ’cause there’s a holiday-inspired motif. Some may find it pretentious and interminable. Those people can go stuff a stocking.

The theme this time around is *spirituality* in music. That doesn’t mean I’ve chosen a bunch of religious songs; far from it. The tunes in this batch were picked due to how they make me feel, which is markedly different from other material. Some challenge my assumptions of faith-based music. Others simply crack me up. A lot of it is pretty personal.

Brooke and I are going to DC tomorrow. I hate flying and am convinced of my fiery demise. If I don’t make it, you can play this podcast at my funeral.

Oh, and Happy Holidays!

The Contrarian’s Corner — Episode III: The Reckoning

PS: We saw GWAR on Saturday, but I’ll probably write about it in the paper rather than here. My column needs some serious padding this week.

As promised, here’s the latest podcast.

The Contrarian’s Corner — Episode II: Scary Monsters

I was gonna wait until tomorrow, but I just couldn’t. This will give you extra time to download over the weekend. Tracklisting is provided in the comments field of the official Contrarian’s Corner Blog, which formerly hosted the podcast.

Yes, it’s a Halloween theme. I drank wine again, so it gets pretty silly. But there are some good tunes in there. Enjoy, and do let me know what you think.

PS: Local musician Rob Voland has a great new album called Springinsfeld. He and Ryan Power (who’s not long for B-town) recorded it on 4-track cassette. Awesome!

You can hear some of it live — and probably snag a CD — when Voland plays 339 Pine St. on Oct. 28. The show starts at 8 p.m. and appears to be free.

The Contrarian’s Corner — Episode I: Freaks, Geeks & Sweetiepies

Caveats:

#1: I was drinking wine, so I sound friggin’ stupid.

#2: There’s a lot of fade-ins during songs. This is on purpose, primarily to discourage music thieving. Not that any of you good people would do such a thing. Also, it allows me to prattle about trivia and ruin some wonderful music at the same time.

#3 At one point, I mention the Beatles, calling them "Paul, George, Paul and Ringo." Yes, I’m aware there’s only one Paul in the group. No need to point it out.

Other than that, I think it’s pretty fun. But you tell me!