Lady Detective Rosalind Albright
By Megan O’Doherty and Emma Ammirati
DESIGN EDITOR AND CONTRIBUTOR
The creators of the show, Megan O’Doherty ‘12 and Emma Ammirati ‘12, came upon the idea for their unorthodox radio show while driving through the Columbia gorge of O’Doherty’s native state, Oregon. The two were caught in a traﬃc jam on their return from Multnomah Falls, and after incessantly chattering the entire journey, they were lulled into an exhausted silence. As boredom ensued, they turned to the radio in hopes of ﬁnding a catchy tune to distract them. Radio reception was poor and Ammirati was about to strike up another topic of conversation when suddenly, amid the static of the AM stations, a compelling voice ﬁlled the car. And thus, with a suspense-ridden organ chord, Rosalind Albright was born.
The point of the radio show is to insert a female detective into a theme that has previously been dominated by men. Just by changing “his” to “her” and “he” to “she”, the gender norms throughout time are exaggerated and heightened. Thus far, the producers have been revamping “The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes” 56 short stories by T.C. Doyle, to focus on two female detectives in the place of Watson and Holmes. This gender reversal highlights the sexist nature of previous detectives throughout history. Armed with satire, Margaret Fletcher and Rosalind Albright oppose the modern concepts of gender norms.
Every Thursday from 8 p.m. to 9 p.m., Lady Detective Rosalind Albright invites you to crack a case with her. Albright is cunning and just a tad arrogant, but with the help of her right-hand woman, she will solve the most confounding mysteries. With an uncanny eye for detail, a pipe ﬁlled with shag and a great sense of humor, Detective Albright doesn’t rest until justice has been served. Tune in to WBCR 90.3 FM to hear her tackle snarling ruﬃans, opium-addicted ﬁends and forlorn lovers alike! Listen in Thursdays from 8:00-9:00 p.m.!
Didgeridoo Addictive Nudist Candle Embryo
By Joe Caldwell and Miro Frankzerda
The throbbing sounds of baseball bats struck the diaphragms of the thousand marsupials on the track.
“How dost thou?” the Seb asked suspiciously, curling his mustache in his tobacco stained ﬁngers.
“Lamp posts, it’s all lamp posts,” Big Ted, king of the wombats said.
The night was poisoned. The fog coughed. Joe met Miro. F*ck dubstep. Save the whales. Fridays 6:00-7:00 p.m.!