Jesus Freak Radio Stations

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Despite their ubiquity on the American airwaves (shit, because of their ubiquity), I can't stand religious radio stations and their endless exhortations to give money to dumbass cryto-fascist cracker ministers and the endless "JAYZUS!! JAYZUS!! JAYZUS!!" they scream and peddle. I SWEAR that the signals these radio stations transmit could cut through a fucking concrete-reinforced nuclear bunker. And they're just about the only thing that cuts through the building where I work (other than AM Hate Radio assholes like Fatfuck Limbaugh, but that's another gripe).

I swear, these Jesus-freak stations are just about the only thing that would make me want to listen to the usual Infinity/Clear Channel nu-metal/buttrock. I imagine it must be even worse for those ILErs who live out in the sticks.

― Tadeusz Suchodolski, Monday, 24 December 2001 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)

Only one thing to do. Through the radio out and bring your walkmans. Simple!

― Gale Deslongchamps, Monday, 24 December 2001 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)

they can be kinda fun tad, come on. like one of the "urban" stations out this aways is in close proximity dial-wise with a xtian station, which can lead to plenty of funny "mixing moments." one of the freakiest moments of 2001 was sitting in the car and hearing "gin and juice" interspliced with a dramatization of a family of drunken hillbillies finding the lord.

― jess, Monday, 24 December 2001 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)

Maybe this is what inspired the "Reverend Doogood" skits on the new De La Soul album.

― Tim, Monday, 24 December 2001 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)

we have less of these in blighty. actually i can't think of a single one, but then that doesn't prove anything. i suspect that the biggest thing that we have to contend with in this country is local radio advertisments. national radio advertisments are awful (and the reason why i only listen to public service broadcasting) but local ones are in a satanic league of their own.

a few summers ago i had a wonderful job driving a big yellow dumper truck around a clay pit, and all the radio sets in the brickworks bar the one in my cab played the same refrain. now i'm not sure what it was called, home counties or southern counties or something like that, but it was tortuous crap repeating charmless chart drivel, 'classic rock' and commercial dance music. the djs were less funny than chris moyles, and about as offensive, and to top it all, fucking shite adverts. my mission was to slyly retune all of the radios when left unguarded to bbc radio 4. odly enough, they knew immediately who the culprit was.

― another james, Tuesday, 25 December 2001 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)

oh yeah, kind of a coincidence of no note, but at the brickworks my nickname was jesus. so there.

they also called me big issue, the witty devils.

― another james, Tuesday, 25 December 2001 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)

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