15/03/2015 17:15:30 ¶ ●

## 64 - WE MUST GIVE PRAISE

Don’t judge a book by its cover. Judge it by the harmful messages it contains.

Welcome to Night Vale.

The enormous glowing cloud that serves as president of the Night Vale School Board announced a five-year strategic plan for the school district. The plan, put together over the past year by the twelve-member board, lays out new curriculum goals, organizational restructuring, and a comprehensive outline for eternal penitence before the Mighty Glow Cloud.

Everyone present at the press conference fell to their knees and praised the Glow Cloud – their eyes solid white, gray smoky wisps swirling from their chanting mouths, hands clapping loudly in unison – as miniature glowing colorful clouds swept about them.

“CHILDREN ARE OUR FUTURE!” the Glow Cloud said. “WE MUST GIVE PRAISE! GIVE OUR LIVES! GIVE OUR ALL TO THE CHILD OF THE GLOWING CLOUD! TO THE SCION OF INCORPOREAL RULE! ALL HAIL! ALL HAIL! ALL HAIL!”

The crowd chanted along in worship of the Glow Cloud’s child, who is currently a freshman at Night Vale High School. The young cloud is an active member of both Show Choir and the Speechless Debate team. Their education has long been an important part of the adult Glow Cloud’s leadership in the education community.

The Sheriff’s Secret Police, in conjunction with several Vague, Yet Menacing, Government Agencies, are calling on all citizens to be on the lookout for two fugitives. Both Hiram McDaniels and the Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Your Home are wanted by authorities for their recent attempts to usurp mayoral control of Night Vale.

Hiram is described as literally a five-headed dragon. He is 18 feet tall, and his heads are colored blue, green, gold, gray, and purple. They each have their own personality, sentience, memory, and distinct markings and features.

The gray head often feels blue, and wears a green nose ring. The blue head considers logic the gold standard of intellect, and has purple eyes. The gold head is actually more of a sable, and will talk ‘til he’s blue in the face. The purple head has grown gray with paranoid fantasies and wears a gold neck chain that has a pendant with the word “Violet” written in green gemstones. And the green head is the real shouty one that wants to set everyone on fire, all the time.

The Secret Police are also on the hunt for the Faceless Old Woman, whom they describe as “an elderly female without a face – although, no one has ever actually seen her, so we’re all just guessing. But, you’ll know you’re near her if you’re at home. Particularly if you’re home alone and it’s dark, and you think you hear breathing and creaking steps in another room. Under no circumstances should you look. Don’t look. You will not at all like what you see,” the Secret Police said.

There is a reward for information leading to the arrest of either of these fugitives. That reward is a gift card to Pier 1, a lifetime of gratitude, and a couple of handwritten coupons for things like washing the dishes, or a ten-minute back rub.

Um, a couple of listeners have asked how my boyfriend Carlos is doing. He’s still working on lots of interesting science projects in that desert otherworld. It’s been almost a year since I last saw him in person, and I miss him a lot. I’m waiting to hear back from Station Management about getting vacation time so I can go visit him. It’s nearly impossible to get approved for vacation and, even if you do, you never know when or how you will find out.

At most businesses, you just file some simple paperwork or ask your direct supervisor, and after a few days they have someone from Human Resources hide in the back seat of your car, and when you’re halfway home they grab your face from behind, covering your eyes with one hand and mouth with the other and shout “Your vacation has been approved, congratulations!” And then, in your excitement, you take them out for ice cream.

But not in community radio. You can wait weeks, or months, to hear back. In the meantime, though, I’ve been taking up watercolors again, and I did something I’ve never done for anyone else I’ve ever been with. I painted a picture of Carlos. He’s in profile, looking across his desert otherworld, he’s wearing his Karl Lagerfeld-designed lab coat, and there’s a car-sized Bichon Frisé atop a dune behind him.

And it might be the best painting I’ve ever made. I had long given up this old hobby, and lately I’ve grown so…oh, I don’t know…out of touch? Lost? Disconnected? I just needed something to occupy my time.

Anyway, I hung it above my desk, near the window, and I tell you, it really gets me through the days, seeing my pastel Carlos in his brush-swept otherworld paradise.

Let’s take a look now at the Community Calendar.

Thursday night, Dark Owl Records will be holding an open mic for anyone who promises not to play any music, perform any poetry or comedy, or produce any kind of art at all. Dark Owl owner Michelle Nguyen says she hopes to not have to listen to or see any more art for as long as she lives, which she is sure will be for a really long time.

“It’s taking forever, this life!” Nguyen said, before inserting an AOL Free Internet for 30 Days disc into her antique CD player. “This is the only thing I can listen to anymore,” Nguyen added.

Friday morning, the Society for a Blood Space War will be traveling back in time and eliminating several future enemies before they gain training and grow powerful. According to the group’s press kit, Friday is the official day of the event, but since they’ll be traveling back in time, it’s kind of moot because they’ve already done it. It’s just that they recently hired a new PR manager, and he’s being all, like, “you can’t announce an event without a date.”

Anyway, they’ll have preemptively assassinated all future enemy leaders by Friday morning.

Well, this certainly explains the people in space suits who broke into our break room here at the station last week and started a laser knife battle with two folks from finance and our new intern, Hannah Reff – who, it turns out, had some pretty sick laser knife fighting skills. The finance folks went down easy, but Hannah managed to fight two of her attackers off before the three remaining intruders grabbed her and jumped en sacrificial masse into the temporary black hole they had created near the coffee maker, thus ending Hannah’s future reign of space terror.

To the family of intern Hannah, she was a very good intern. Very focused, and always a friendly presence here in the office. She was also a future warlord in the Blood Space War, but…you couldn’t have known that. Only Hannah could have. She will be missed.

Where was I? Oh. *Ahem*

Saturday afternoon on the Great Lawn is the Ennui Fair, sponsored by the Last Bank of Night Vale. There will be some pouty clowns, indifferent to simplistic balloon shapes of dogs. There will be local merchants and artisans, standing hopelessly in small lots where they should be setting up booths to showcase their wares, but can’t bring themselves to do so because they’ve lost the thread…not just of the fair, but of their careers and lives.

Organizers say they expect cold rain that day, so you should……

And then their press release just trails off.

Sunday, all day, is the First Annual Ultimate Frisbee Tournament at the Softball and Field Hockey Grounds, which were discovered last fall by archaeologists over near the Olive Garden in the Problematic Birds District. The archaeologists determined this ancient site was built over four years ago by natives of this town, who enjoyed outdoor activities like amateur softball and field hockey.

Tuesday Afternoon is a pretty decent classic rock song.

It has just been reported to me that the Night Vale PTA is upset about the strategic plan created by the Night Vale School Board. Gordon Moreno, president of the PTA, issued a statement criticizing the School Board for not consulting parents and teachers when crafting these changes.

Joined by treasurer Diane Creighton, whose son Josh is a 9th grader at NVHS, and secretary…Steve Carlsberg…whose stepdaughter Janice is in 2nd grade, Moreno said the school board once again showed its lack of care for parental input into the education and development of its students.

“Parent’s voices must be heard,” Moreno shouted from atop the statue of immortal film actor Lee Marvin. Sitting on Marvin’s shoulders, legs dangling like a denim-wrapped flesh scarf from the bronze sculptures muscular neck, Moreno called for more transparency in education planning.

Moreno then clenched his teeth and lips and eyes as he kicked his legs back and forth in a groaning, full body tantrum.

Let’s take a look at financial news.

2,921 is a number. Which is up from many other numbers, definitely up, so you should get really excited…or, perhaps, really upset over this.

Also, the following words: Crime, debt, capital, offering, and portfolio. Write those down and learn what they mean. Do not remember anything that you learn, but seek the memory of what you learn in dreams.

Here’s another number: 9.8 billion. That’s a very large number, one of the largest numbers. Loosen your jaw and breathe in slowly through your nose when you hear a number like that. 9.8 billion. That’s “billion,” with two Ls. Billion. Wow!

This has been financial news.

John Peters – you know, the farmer? – called today to say he noticed that Frank Chen has returned to town.

Some of you recall that Frank went missing a while back, and a little over two years ago his body was found by four kids who followed a railroad track. Chen’s body was covered in extensive claw marks and burns, most likely caused – according to the coroner’s report – by a large dragon.

Anyway, John said he’s seen Frank driving around town in his pickup truck, doing some freelance construction work with a focus on carpentry and restoration, just like he always did when he was alive. John said Frank looks good.

“He’s real tall now. And rotund,” John said from atop a telephone pole, where he’d jimmied up a phone directly into the active lines. “Got a tail and bunch of colorful heads now. Also he got one of them crossover toolboxes and a class 4 adjustable hitch for his truck,” John said, sounding impressed.

“I guess death isn’t the end,” John added. “We all have to live on in some way. Maybe it’s in the legacy we leave, or the memories other people keep of us, or the feeling they have when they hear our names or a stolen identity taken by someone still alive. Or just actual physical immortality. It’s all a shame. Whatever it is. Such a damn shame, everything is, I tell you.”

And then there was a loud buzz, and a staticy pop, and a dial tone. And then a different voice said, “You can hang up the phone now, Cecil.” And I said, “OK, Lacy. Fine.”

We’ve just received word that the School Board has rejected the PTA’s request for more transparency in long term strategic planning. The president of the School Board and enormous glowing cloud cited School District Code 25.3b-2, which states “ALL HAIL! ALL HAIL THE MIGHTY GLOW CLOUD! YOU ARE WEAK! YOU ARE NOTHING! YOU MUST BOW DOWN AND GIVE PRAISE TO THE GLOW CLOUD!” as well as Code 17.2a, which explicitly defines the powers of the School Board President as “OMNIPOTENT! OMNISCIENT! OBSTREPEROUS! INFINITE!” – and that’s exactly what it says. It even has that reverb effect when you read it.

PTA president Moreno, knowing he had very little leverage in his request for power of legislative review, decided to change his strategy into a request for forgiveness from the angry pulsing cloud. Animals began falling from the sky with heavy thumps and splats and splashes. The Great Lawn has grown dark with carcasses and shadows as PTA officers run in search of cover.

I’ve heard from my friend, Diane Creighton, that she huddled underneath the Lee Marvin statue, and that the lifelike bronze form of our nation’s greatest living actor has done a tremendous job of blocking the various black bears and nurse sharks and ostriches falling so violently to Earth.

The Glow Cloud has spread wide across the sky, blotting out important things like spy satellites and helicopters, as well as unimportant things like the moon and the illusions of mountains near the horizon. From right here in the studio, I can see the darkness spreading. It looks like this is as good a time as any to take you to the weath–

What was that? What the…was that?

[“True Trans Soul Rebel” by Against Me!]

The School Board and the PTA have reached a compromise. The PTA’s earlier grievance that long-term curriculum and school district planning lacked transparency has been heard. And while the Glow Cloud and the School Board could not offer complete openness and inclusion in all school district decisions for the PTA, they could offer to stop dropping dead animals on everyone, if the PTA never mentioned transparency or questioned authority again.

PTA president Moreno agreed to these terms, panting, “Yeah. Oh, yeah, sure. Never again. Please, just let us be. Please!”

Then he breathlessly repeated “ALL HAIL, ALL HAIL, ALL HAIL,” as thick residue of some fallen beast dripped slowly off his swollen face and onto his torn shirt.

Diane Creighton, safe beneath the Lee Marvin statue, asked, “Perhaps a PTA liaison on the School Board would be…” but Moreno jumped in.

“No. No liaison. We are fine, Diane, we must give praise!”

And Diane didn’t say a word. But she said a lot. Moreno did not acknowledge the look in Diane’s eyes.

Steve Carlsberg then added…oh, I don’t know, it doesn’t matter. I’m sure he added something. Steve always does.

I hope you are all safe, dear listeners. I hope you are all OK. I know I am safe.

Sadly, though, I am not OK. The falling animal carcasses collapsed a small section of the outer wall around our radio station. No one was injured, but it was the wall where my desk was. My new painting. I had spent so long on it. I mean, I can replace it, but…it’s just that. It’s…just that it brought me such happiness, such a reason to get up, such little joys.

Like, it’s not hard to find images of Carlos, we have science, with its phones and screens and psychic projections, and…but that picture [exasperated sigh] it was art. Creation. Destroyed. I mean, I can paint another. I can. I can just paint another.

It’ll be fine. Just an excuse to do some fun painting. I’m glad we’re all OK. Diane’s OK, even Steve, I’m glad he’s OK too, I can just paint…

It’s fine.

Yup. Everything’s fine.

Stay tuned next for the quiz show Ask Me Another But I’ll Never Talk, You Fiend, I’ll Never Talk. It’s our most popular new program.

And as always, goodnight, Night Vale. Goodnight.

Today’s proverb: Don’t bring a gun to a knife fight. Don’t bring a knife to a knife fight, either. Stop going to knife fights altogether. What’s your deal with knife fights?