Moreon podcasting
Have just upgraded to iTunes 5 and so am eagerly surfing world of podcasts. The problem is of course that podcasts are basically just blogs for people too lazy to write. The only decent use of a podcast is the archiving of decent radio broadcasts you might have missed in the week (light music, featuring the BBC swing orchestra and extreme right-wing thrash metal band 'Hitlereich') especially the shipping forecast - surely the most soporific of all broadcasts and, a a move that is nothing short of sadistic by the BBC, usually read by some breathy-voiced siren who manages to squeeze sexuality into 'Dogger, Humber, German Bite...good' the way McLeans squeeze toothpaste into a tube.
Rather like the idea of somebody going out and recording live performances by local bands though and putting out a weekly music programme of slightly-rough raw sounding music that has about as much chance of being signed by BMG as I have by Man U. The problem is that the BBC already broadcasts this for an hour a week, it's called Mike Harding's folk show.
The podcasts all seem to push a point of view, and are the 21C equivalent of the soap box upon which stands the screaming loon with flecks of spittle on his beard. Having said that, I reckon 'flecks of spittle' would be a great title for a podcast.
I am still, though, keen to do my ghost walks podcast. However, i am bereft of actual ideas. this would not be a problem in commercial radio or television, but is a hinderance for a half-hour of spoken word and eerie strings.
Obvious phantoms are haunted toilets - 'after dark, it's said that one can actually see the beige, shapeless shades making their way to and from the Gent's on City Walls Road and that, if you listen carefully, you can hear moans coming from trap three'. Haunted shops - 'like the Marie Celest, the 'customer enquiries' desk at M&S is, and remains, deserted'. Haunted burger bars (always chilling and the subject of the second podcast - haunted layby cafes!). A must for inclusion is the more than average apparitions of ghostly monks in the town, which would explain why of an evening one can see hooded figures wandering aimlessly about but which does not explain how midevel monks got hold of trakkie bottoms and reeboks.
Of course, any respectable ghostwalk podcast has to end with the narrator himself being a ghost, the usual devices for this are the clicking off of a tape machine and two police officers discussing how it was found in a locked room, operated by a dead mans hand, or a straightforward explanation from somebody who's voice implies a velvet smoking jacker, large desk and glass of port to hand (that's you mate!) or the straightforward ear-bleeding shriek. This is. of course, where the podcast has the advantage over the conventional ghost walk tour guide, as their attempt to, for instance, dematerialise into a wall usually results in embarrassment for the tour and a broken nose and bruising, followed by a brief spell in A&E and a longer spell in a secure ward, for the guide.
Rather like the idea of somebody going out and recording live performances by local bands though and putting out a weekly music programme of slightly-rough raw sounding music that has about as much chance of being signed by BMG as I have by Man U. The problem is that the BBC already broadcasts this for an hour a week, it's called Mike Harding's folk show.
The podcasts all seem to push a point of view, and are the 21C equivalent of the soap box upon which stands the screaming loon with flecks of spittle on his beard. Having said that, I reckon 'flecks of spittle' would be a great title for a podcast.
I am still, though, keen to do my ghost walks podcast. However, i am bereft of actual ideas. this would not be a problem in commercial radio or television, but is a hinderance for a half-hour of spoken word and eerie strings.
Obvious phantoms are haunted toilets - 'after dark, it's said that one can actually see the beige, shapeless shades making their way to and from the Gent's on City Walls Road and that, if you listen carefully, you can hear moans coming from trap three'. Haunted shops - 'like the Marie Celest, the 'customer enquiries' desk at M&S is, and remains, deserted'. Haunted burger bars (always chilling and the subject of the second podcast - haunted layby cafes!). A must for inclusion is the more than average apparitions of ghostly monks in the town, which would explain why of an evening one can see hooded figures wandering aimlessly about but which does not explain how midevel monks got hold of trakkie bottoms and reeboks.
Of course, any respectable ghostwalk podcast has to end with the narrator himself being a ghost, the usual devices for this are the clicking off of a tape machine and two police officers discussing how it was found in a locked room, operated by a dead mans hand, or a straightforward explanation from somebody who's voice implies a velvet smoking jacker, large desk and glass of port to hand (that's you mate!) or the straightforward ear-bleeding shriek. This is. of course, where the podcast has the advantage over the conventional ghost walk tour guide, as their attempt to, for instance, dematerialise into a wall usually results in embarrassment for the tour and a broken nose and bruising, followed by a brief spell in A&E and a longer spell in a secure ward, for the guide.
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