01/11/2017 20:50:10 ¶ ●

## 117 - eGemony, part 1: “Canadian Club”

The suffocation of the ego.
The eternal silence of the void.
Faceless, yet screaming.
And now serving orange wine on tap.

Welcome to Night Vale.

Listeners, we have a new sponsor! Our show is brought to you by – money. When purchasing items, please consider using money. It’s exchanged universally in place of transactions with actual value. Money is available in handy ones, fives, sixes, eights, and now twenties. [very fast] Money may be habit forming, symptoms may include (avarice) [0:03:21], lack of introspection and, frequent substitution of the phase “intelligent” for “wealthy”. Please ask your doctor if money is right for you and nod with considerable vigor when your doctor asks if you think money will complete you.

We have a visitor who I’m just now learning about. I’ve been handed a note by my new intern Gustav. Gustav says Station Management has ordered him to bring this guest immediately to the studio. Gustav, are you missing an eye? Uh, Gustav is nodding. OK. Uh, let’s see. The note says, it says to please welcome… Oh. What?! Wow! I mean, WOW! Gustav, is this real? OK, it is my honor and my privilege to welcome to the show – Hugh Jackman.

Hugh: Hi!

Cecil: Wait you’re not the Hugh Jackman, right?

Hugh: I like to think I am.

Cecil: Yeah, you’re not.

Hugh: But my children think I’m the real Hugh Jackman, so..

Cecil: Your children are wrong. But go on Mr Hugh Jackman.

Hugh: My name is Hugh Jackman, and-

Cecil: [muttering] Hmm but not the Hugh Jackman.

Hugh: Here’s my card.

Cecil: Oh. Hugh’s business card is a hologram he’s projected straight into my fingers. Says he’s the senior vice president in charge of “dreamfluencing” at.. ee-Gemini?

Hugh: It’s pronounced “ee-Gemonee”.

Cecil: Oh so it sounds just like he-

Hugh: I’m here to solve a funny little mystery. I just need to uh, open my briefcase here. Take a look at this.

Cecil: Oh, well that’s a Playboy magazine.

Hugh: Yes! December 1969. It had the pictorial on Bond girls in case you don’t remember.

Cecil: Oh I can see that. Ooh and there’s also a feature on architect Mies van der Rohe.

Hugh: I’ll take your word for it, Mr Palmer. I only read Playboy for the advertisements like this one: the one for Canadian Club.

Cecil: OK uh listeners, Mr Jackman is showing me a full page ad that features six people hiking in dense-looking woods, and two of them are carrying a sling of some sort and in the sling is-

Hugh: A case of Canadian Club whiskey!

Cecil: Uh huh. Um the headline reads, “On October 13, 1969, we hid a case of Canadian Club deep in the Amazon jungle. Here’s how you can find it.” Oh let’s see! Well this is actually quite entertaining, there are clues and maps and, is that an acrostic?

Hugh: It is an acrostic, very good Mr Palmer! It’s a clue to where the case was buried. Now from 1967 to 1973, Hiram Walker Distilled Spirits TBA Canadian Club ran a contest where they hid 21 cases of Canadian Club whiskey throughout the world, from the densest alleys of Jakarta to the skyscrapers of Manhattan, the cable car tracks in San Francisco, on cobblestoned streets in London, under 30 feet of water on the Great Barrier Reef. They ran ads with clues about how to find them, and find them the people of the world did! Every single case was recovered.

Cecil: That’s remarkable.

Hugh: Mr Palmer. We hid a case under the ice caps of the North Pole, and people found it. we dropped one on Mount Everest..

Cecil: [clears throat, mutters] Mountains. So why do you think people wanted to find them so badly?

Hugh: As far as we can tell, it has to do with people’s desire to have alcohol. Ironically, it sank the contest. People weren’t buying Canadian Club. They figured that it was way cheaper and more fun to get a yacht and sail to the Cayman Islands and snorkel under the security fences of the International Monetary Fund and then you know like, remove a case from the International Monetary Fund’s Mom’s poolside refrigerator, and that’s exactly what happened to case number 17. So sales plummeted, but later, Hiram Walker merged with (–) [0:07:21], which was acquired by Bacardi Constellation brands, which is now an acquisition of our little tech startup, eGemony!

Cecil: Now excuse me but what does eGemony do?

Hugh: We dreamfluence!

Cecil: [long beat] …Got it.

Hugh: It turns out there’s one further case of Canadian Club. It’s been hidden for over 40 years. Right here in Night Vale! Here’s the ad. This is the November 1973 issue of Playboy. Go on, read it.

Cecil: Um, “on August 30, we hid a case of Canadian Club in Night Vale. Here’s how to find it.” But, Mr Jackman, the rest of the ad is blank.

Hugh: We at eGemony after some internal discussion, believe that might be why the case was never found. There seems to have been some kind of event at the printers that month. Fran Lebowitz’s interview with progressive rock band Yes keyboardist Rick Wakeman is perfectly fine for its first 37 pages, but then devolves into a series of umlauts. Little Annie Fanny, generally a lighthearted and [chuckling] adorably misogynistic comic strip, was just panel after panel of…

Cecil: ..umlauts.

Hugh: And Mr Palmer, look at the pictoral on men’s golf pants.

Cecil: Aaaagh…

Hugh. Yeah.

Cecil: Ooooooooh.

Hugh: I know, we’re not really sure what happened there. Further, you’ll see that every cartoon has the same punchline.

Cecil: Oh yeah. Uh, here’s a bride on her wedding day and her mother is telling her… “It’s under Cecil’s desk”?

Hugh: Same punchline is on page 33 with the desert island, and page 74 here with the cowboys at the saloon.

Both in unison: “It’s under Cecil’s desk”!

Cecil: That is so odd! So Mr Jackman, why does eGemony want to find his case of liquor?

Hugh: We thought it would be.. fun. Can I look under your desk?

Cecil: Why?

Hugh: The case is under your desk.

Cecil: Yeah, but this desk wasn’t even here in 1973.

Hugh: So you’re telling us - me - no?

Cecil: Well I’m telling you to ask Station Management.

Hugh: Oh, I will!

Cecil: I-I-I mean they’ll make you fill out a form, and they can also create fire with their minds. Also they’ve eaten people before for way less. Hey Gustav? Gustav, come in here and show Hugh what Station Management did to your eye.

Hugh: Oh my!

Cecil: Oh God..

Hugh: That is disgusting.

Cecil: Ugh, it’s getting wor- [gags] OK, that’s enough Gustav.

Hugh: Oh. I am prepared. [ahem] I’m familiar with your Station and Management and not afraid of them. Eunice, Lily, Agatha, DeMarcus and Chad, old friends of mine.

Cecil: Who?

Hugh: Have you never learned the names of your supervisors, Mr Palmer? You need a team building retreat. I’ll be back. You haven’t seen the last of me.

Cecil: Yeah well you aren’t even the real Hugh Jackman!

I don’t trust that man. I need to figure out what to do next. We’ll be back after this.

[serene voice] Life is meaningless. There are no guiding principles, nor rewards, nor punishments for how to live. Just flashes of pain or joy, which are only neurotic messages, not actual experiences. Even pondering why we exist is a rudderless journey. So consciousness is a means to no end. The Sheriff’s Secret Police would like to acknowledge that hearing this will ruin your day.

However, they are further authorized to announce that nothing we have heard about nature describes a process that occurs without purpose. We can point to a fish’s fin and understand what function it serves. A monkey’s fur, a starfish’s many arms. The acorns in your uncle Simon’s branchy beard that explode outward as stabbing bristles whenever uncle Simon experiences fear. They all serve a purpose. So it’s possible that consciousness developed for a reason larger than consciousness itself can conceive of. The function of your mind is literally beyond comprehension. Which means that awareness, pursued to its limits, only makes you aware of your helpess ness. You are without power in this life. Except when you purchase items by using – money. This has been brought to you by – moneyyy.

We are back and – I’m in a jam. I mean I don’t trust this “Hugh Jackman” nor his company. I mean after what StrexCorp did to our town, I’m a bit wary of any business conglomerate. Although eGemony does seem different, friendlier. But what is this thing with looking under my desk? I’m not sure I should even look under my desk, I mean what if I find it? what if I don’t find it?

Every time I’v ehidden under my desk, I’ve closed my eyes and for good reason! I’m so distracted I lost my notes and now I don’t even know what the news was supposed to be! And Gustav went to go by some cotton balls and anti-bacterial spray for his missing eye. Um.. [rustles papers] Well, I mean honestly I’ve never really looked at any of these magazines before. I mean, Playboy was for other boys and girls. Uh, interesting. Listeners, did you know that Playboy magazine has a bunch of pictures of women across various careers with in-depth profiles on their lives? I did not know this. yeah there’s a whole pictoral on this issue of all the women who have ever played James Bond, in full costumes! Oh my god, look at these smart tuxes and pistols and one of them’s on a motorcycle!

In the middle of a magazine, there’s even a foldout photo of a woman in coveralls and a hard hat, leading a volunteer construction crew who’s building houses in a hurricane-ravaged Nova Scotia. Oh, and on the other side of the foldout, there’s a Playmate questionnaire. Let’s see, her turnoffs include “impatient people and tick bites”. You know, I agree with that. And her turn-ons include “groovy people, good food, overwhelming feelings of dread, chanting, and all hail the Glow Cloud”. All hail the Glow Cloud! Yes! Uh, the playmate’s name is Missy Wilks. Missy Wilks?! Could that be the Missy Wilks who lives over on Kestrel Street here in Night Vale? I mean, they do have similar eyes and tendrils. I wonder if it’s possible that she knows where the case of Canadian Club is? Well let’s see. [dials] M-I-S-S-Y-W-I-L-K-S.

[phone signal]

Missy: Hello?

Cecil: Hello, is this Missy Wilks? This is Cecil Palmer from the radio station. It’s a little hard to explain why I’m calling but-

Missy: Have you looked under your desk?

Cecil: Oh, not yet. Should I? I mean I kind of don’t want to.

Missy: Cecil. I’ve been waiting for this phonecall for over 40 years. You must look under your desk. The future of Night Vale depends on it.

Cecil: Have you been doing anything else?

Missy: Pardon?

Cecil: 40 years.

Missy: Well, no not really. Raised a family. Shot a guy once. But you’re stalling, Cecil.

Cecil: I’m not stalling! Bu-but you know, we really should get to today’s weather.

[“Lost Everything” by Mary Epworth]

Cecil: And we’re back.

Missy: Have you looked under the de-

Cecil: No, I’ve not looked under my desk!

Missy: Come – on -, Cecil!

Cecil: Wait, why does Mr Jackman want this so badly?

Missy: Ugh! It’s why they put cases everywhere on the planet! They knew that leaving an item in place long enough allows it to absorb the spirit of the area. That case is now infused with the soul of Night Vale. No one actually recovered those other cases. eGemony recovered them after they bought all the other parent companies of Canadian Club. They’re going to send out one of their corporate prize contestant sweepstakes buzz marketing street teams to dreamfluence anyone who stands in their way. If eGemony finds it before you do, they will drink Night Vale’s soul, the same way they’ve drunk the soul of all the other cities!

Cecil: Wait, that makes no sense! They’ve recovered a bunch of these across the world. Are you saying that Manhattan, San Francisco, London, the Great Barrier Reef and the Cayman Island don’t have souls anymore?

Missy: Cecil.

Cecil: Oh my god, you’re right. OK then, alright, I’m going to look. I am looking under my desk. And I am findiiing.. nothing. I, there’s nothing under here!

Missy: Mm?

Cecil: Wait, wait wait wait wait wait wait oh, oh, oh, oh, oh wait put – a pushpin! A red one! And it-it’s holding an envelope to the underside of the desk!

Missy: Is it manila?

Cecil: Yes! And it’s addressed to me. There’s a letter inside. It’s written on papyrus and you can tell it’s very old because it’s written in cursive. It says: “Dear Cecil how are you? We are fine. We’re sorry we didn’t write earlier, but we were unlearning our destinies. We had to unlearn so many things. Small steps, then larger ones, then larger until we were almost flying, but not quite flying because we had to unlearn our expectations and then unlearn our limitations, so we gave up on flying. Because that turns out not to work regardless of your expectations and no matter what you unlearn. So we relearned what we needed to. we’ve relearned so many essential things, Cecil, about work and love and complaining about work and love and – oh! And we took the case of booze! If you wanna find us, you’ll know us by our sign.” And then it’s signed with a smear of foam. No wait, this isn’t just any foam it’s – hold on! [sniffs] [tastes] Cappuccino!

Oh my goodness, I have to tell Ms Wilks that..

Missy: I’m still here.

Cecil: Oh! Miss Wilks! I know where the case of Canadian Club is!

Missy: Where?

Cecil: It’s in the cave lands outside of town. It’s been taken by the baristas!

Missy: Cecil! This is the worst possible news! The baristas are no match for buzz marketing street teams. The baristas are gentle people, soft of spirit and jolly of countenance, whose dreams are only influenced by the purest of the loves, not crowd sourced manipulations. The baristas are rosy-cheeked and innocent! They gamble like lambs, Cecil! You’ve got to warn them!

Cecil: OK, I will, I will. Thank you, Miss Wilks! Listeners, this is terrible, I-I-I don’t know what to do! I don’t like warning people about things, I mean warnings lead to consequences and we all know how much I avoid consequences. In fact, there’s only one way to be thoroughly insulated from consequence and – that’s to accumulate enough money. But I don’t have any money. As Station Management recently switched their payroll protocol from cash to Twitter followers and Groupons for local spas, so I’m kinda screwed.

Think, Cecil, think. Think think think think think.

Stay tuned next to the sounds of chewing amplified to the threshold of pain.

Good night,
Night Vale,
Good night!

Today’s proverb: People always say “before I die”, as if they haven’t already begun the process.