“it's true what they sang in that song, that video killed the radio star-how in the long war between the senses, the eye, in its unstoppable scorched-earth campaign, has mobilized a kind of technologi­cal Gresham's Law against radio, and has almost entirely sidelined it;”

“He flipped the dail, and I crossed my arms over my chest as some vaguely European-sounding band sang about how video had killed the radio star. I wished someone would kill this radio.”

“You know what would help?" I asked, not meeting his eyes."Hmm?""If you turned off this crap music and put on something that came out after the Berlin Wall went down."Dimitri laughted. "Your worst class is history, yet somehow, you know everything about Eastern Europe.""Hey, gotta have material for my jokes, Comrade." Still smiling, he turned the radio dail. To a country station."Hey! This isn't what I had in mind," I exclaimed. I could tell he was on the verge of laughing again."Pick. It's one or the other."I sighed. "Go back to the 1980s stuff."He flipped the dail, and I crossed my arms over my chest as some vaguely European-sounding band sang about how video had killed the radio star. I wished someone would kill this radio.”

“It's not true that I had nothing on. I had the radio on.”

“On the radio, turned low, Reba sang of hard times with the full authority of a cross-eyed redheaded millionaire.”

“It is not easy to see how the more extreme forms of nationalism can long survive when men have seen the Earth in its true perspective as a single small globe against the stars.”