February 2020

161 - The Space Race

Space, the final frontier.
The womb, the first frontier.
Somewhere between those two, the ocean.
Welcome to Night Vale.

I’m excited today for the annual Night Vale Children’s Fun Fact Science Presentation. Yess, that’s right! As we’ve done every year on this day, we will be devoting our entire episode to a scientific narrative that is sure to delight both the young and the young at heart. And also those who have stolen young hearts and incorporated them into your flesh sacks.
For this year’s Children’s Fun Fact Science Presentations, we will be looking into the history of – the Space Race. Mmm! My husband Carlos has been helping me research this. Thanks, honey! And so it should be airtight and without error.

Now, the Space Race truly began in 1792, at a garden party hosted by the first Duke of Luftnarp one lazy July weekend. A bored group of noble people were sitting out in the garden in all their ruffles and wigs, looking absolutely fashionable for the time, and absolutely ridiculous to modern eyes. And soon the conversation turned, as it often does in parties, to how much they all hated the moon.
“Stupid moon!” said one.
“Lousy orb!” added another.
“Why, I loathe that sky rock!” said a third.
Then they started to throw things at the moon to demonstrate how much they hated it. But none of the objects they threw, not the champagne glasses, nor the decorative party masks, nor the dangerous knives, came anywhere near the moon. Most of the hurled items followed the tedious arch of gravity back into the party with mixed results for the attendees, some of whom required immediate medical attention.
“This won’t do,” said the first Duke of Luftnarp. “We must hit the moon square on with our objects of derision.
“Let us endeavour,” said the Prince of  York, “to build an object that can make it all the way to the moon, and smack that awful rock right across its ugly surface. The first one to do so will show that they indeed hate the moon the most.”
There was general cheering to that remark, along with some moaning from those who had been struck by the falling objects.
And thus, the Space Race was born.

And now the news. As I’m sure we’ve all been following, there is a presidential race going on. Yes, Night Vale may be a small town, mostly preoccupied with the banal goings on of our day to day life, but we are not unaware of national stories. Just like any other town, we have our own opinions on the presidential race. And spirited debates are held weekly in the Compressed Spine amateur boxing gym. Winner is generally by knockout, although occasionally a winner has to be chosen by points. I myself am a strong supporter of Spotless Tony, who I think has the best positions including banning guns, legalizing writing utensils, and Medicare for Spotless Tony. A-a program that would provide comprehensive health care to himself. Others may support Heartbreak Maggie, and I do see the arguments for her. She has the most number of arms, the most number of eyes, and her singing voice literally kills. In any case, I think we can all get together on one thing: Old Towel Leonard has got to go. Get him out of here, ugh! Old Towel Leonard!
This has been the news.

And now traffic.
Lift your eyes, pilgrims. See above you, another world awaits. This world has grown so tired. This world has grown restless. This world has less color and more dust. Lift your eyes, pilgrims. See above you, another world awaits. Get to that other world by any means, pilgrims. For what are pilgrims without their pilgrimage? What is anyone without a destination? You must lift yourself up to that other place. Gather your supplies, pilgrims. Strip this world bare in order to raise yourself up. Take every scrap around you and put it toward that other world. This is all that matters. It’s all that matters to you, and so it is all that matters.
Aloft, pilgrims. You have done it. from here, the sweep of the universe presents itself. Cast down your eyes, pilgrims. See below you the world you left behind, the world you stripped bare to make this journey. There was found all the conditions of life. Up here is only a cold, lonely hollow. Why did you ever feel you needed to leave? But oh well, ooooh well. For what are pilgrims without their pilgrimage?
This has been traffic.

Let us know continue with our Children’s Fun Fact Science Presentation. The history of the Space Race.
The Space Race went on through the 18th and 19th centuries, with the rich and poor alike trying to be the first to successfully throw something at that horrible moon. The most obvious methods were quickly tried and discarded. Catapults only managed to cause collateral damage to neighboring homes, gunpowder only backfired on the scientists involved, often quite literally. One woman, the Arch Dutchess of the Motley Meadows, believed that she could reach the moon through dreaming. Every night, she performed a series of meditations that allowed her to have lucid control of her dreams. In those dreams, she would fly upward, each time getting a little closer to the dumb old moon. It was her belief that when she reached the moon in her dream, she would attain the same goal in real life. But the moment she finally touched the moon in her dream, she awoke to find herself in the stifling darkness of a coffin. It seems she had died several decades before, but still she dreamed. Having ascertained that there was no way back from the grave, she performed the meditations and fell into one final endless lucid dream.
And that basically sums up the Space Race until 1953.

Now a word from our sponsors.
Today’s show is brought to you by Borders Books and Music. Remember the old days when your legs were shorter, but your life stretched longer? When the shadows were less dark and the lights less bleary. When the internet was a secret club and not a poisoned chalice. When energy was a bottomless thing, not a quickly siphoned tank. We are what once was. Look on our works, both books and music, ye mighty, and peruse.
Borders Books and Music. What you are now, we used to be. What we are now, you will be.
This has been a word from our sponsors.

The lawsuit in the case of the estate of Franklin Chen versus the city of Night Vale continues apace. The suit is currently in the discovery phase, which has been made difficult by the fact that the apparent murderer of Franklin Chen, Hiram McDaniels, has not been seen in Night Vale for years. Not since… the incident. And all records in Night Vale are top secret. So every time the lawyers for the Chen family try to see one, they have to dodge the laser grid and tank darts that surround every filing cabinet in City Hall. Those lawyers have filed an injunction against the city to try to force them to turn the laser grids off, but as the official Night Vale motto, written by the town founders hundreds of years ago clearly states: “Laser grids or death”.
More news on this lawsuit as news is made by this lawsuit.

Back to the Space Race.
Affairs continued with little success until 1953, when the United States, descendants of the Prince of York, decided that enough was enough and established the North American Slap the Moon Agency, or NASA, dedicated to developing the skills and technology needed to give that horrible orbiter what for. Meanwhile, the Russians, descendants of the Duke of Luftnarp, started their own agency designed to kick the moon in the you know what. And so a bet between two bored aristocrats became a global race, as they both tried to be the first to aim missiles at that sad little planetoid. To represent us, we chose Neil Armstrong. He was a test pilot, and he reportedly hated the moon more than anyone. Above his bed, he kept a National Geographic picture of the moon. The caption: “Can this celestial trash ever be put in its place?”, which he had drawn a huge red X through. Below that, he wrote: “Darn you, moon!” Which was the strongest language that existed in the 1950’s.

Finally, all was prepared. Neil Armstrong and his fellow astronauts boarded the rocket. All was quiet. Then, all was loud.
More soon, but now for this week’s word jumble.

The following nonsense words will, when the letters are rearranged, produce a simple phrase we all know well. Here we go.
Before I went into the cave, the prospect of the cave became so monstrous in my head that I dreamt about it for weeks. In my dreams I was just outside of the cave and I knew that the moment I stepped into the cave, my life would be over. But I also knew I could not delay my journey into the cave. I shook and shook with fear, and in my shaking awoke myself. This happened night after night. Then came the day of our expedition and to my horror, as I stood outside the cave, the same dread certainty came to me as soon as I stepped one foot into the crevice before me, my life would be over. I shook and shook, but I did not awaken, for I was not asleep but in the terrible dream we call life.
So there it is. Just take those nonsense words apart and rearrange them into the phrase we’re looking for. If you think you have the answer, you probably do. Great job!
Uh, before we go, the answer to last week’s jumble was: “Hop! The window shakes slyly, look here!” Which is, of course, the title to Dave Edgar’s new book of essays about block chains.
This has been this week’s word jumble.

We near the end of our story on the Space Race. Neil Armstrong and his comrades hunched in this tiny capsule that absurdity of absurdities was about to be launched through void to lifeless rock. Sweat on his nose, sweat on his lips. Then sweat in his mouth. This was all unnecessary, the-the history of humanity did not require us to physically touch everything there is, but. Some drive made him willing to risk his life, the only life he would ever get, in order to go far away and then come back again.
There was a sound. There was a fire! There was pressure! And then, there was an absence of pressure. And they were at the moon.
The lander careened its way to the surface. Neil, sweat still on his face, placed one foot on the moon.
“I have a small foot,” he said. “But humanity metaphorically has big feet. Biiiig huuuge metaphoric feet.” History would record and repeat these poetic words.
Neil looked about him. He had done it. He had been the first one to smack into this disgusting space rock. All around was grey, and above that black. And within that, unnervingly distant blue and green. And then, Neil saw.

What Neil saw in a moment. But we really should, and we really must
Go to the weather.

[“Have a Smoke” by Head Portals https://headportals.bandcamp.com]

Neil’s breath made shapes on the inside of his helmet. Some part of him felt that it was not even him on the moon, but that he was merely watching someone else’s body through a little window. That other him stepped forward and saw something truly odd. It was a house. Solidly built, two floors, a front door and gable windows. As he looked at it in disbelief, he realized that it was one of many. An entire town all cleverly camouflaged from above with grey and black mesh, so that it would appear through telescopes to be merely the awful boring surface of the awful boring moon.
He was not the first one on the moon after all. Who had come before?
He walked through the town, tho it appeared abandoned. He stood in the middle of the main square and he said, tho he would not be able to be heard through his helmet and the thin atmosphere: “Hello?”
In every window appeared an animal. Dogs, cats, snakes, hamsters, and parrots. So many animals all watching him silently, regarding him from the windows of their little town.
One cat, grey as the moon itself, hopped from her ledge and came over to him.
“I am Barbara Emmeline Gwendolyn Sauss,” said the cat. “But you may call me Barb-E-Q –Sauss.”
Neil said: “You can talk?” And then he said, “Well, apparently you can, I don’t know why I asked.
The cat continued as though he had not spoken.
“This is our city. We are the lost pets of your world. We are lost, because that is what we choose to be. We came here so we could be lost forever. Tell no one.”
Neil didn’t know what to say. All of his training had been about zero-G maneuvering and the best way to hit the stupid moon when he got there. Nothing about how to interact with a cat that wanted him to keep a secret.
“Please,” the cat repeated, and Neil nodded.
Not knowing what else to do, he went back to the lander, climbed in, and looked at the other man who had made this journey with him. Lee Marvin looked back at him with gentle eyes.
“Lee,” Neil said, “You’re not going to believe this!”
“A secret lost pet city on the moon?” Lee said.
“Well…” Neil said, “Uh… yes!”
Lee nodded thoughtfully.
“Better leave them to it then,” he said. “Probably better we keep this between us.”
Lee did not look surprised. It seemed to Neil that maybe Lee was there precisely to ensure that this secret was kept. And so again Neil only nodded, and they made their preparations and left.
As they launched, out of the tiny window, Neil could just barely see thousands of animal eyes looking up at him.
“I’ll keep your secret,” he whispered, “I’ll keep your secret.
And he did. He never told anyone. Neither did Lee. No one knows this story. No one has ever heard it.

This has been the Children’s Fun Fact Science Presentation.

Good night,
Night Vale,
Good night.

Today’s proverb: Correct placement from right to left: salad fork, soup spoon, salad spoon, bread knife, bowie knife, meat thermometer, entrée fork, and finally, the dessert claws.

Live Show: A Spy in the Desert

1. A Spy in the Desert

Cecil: A tisket, a tasket.
My god, what’s in that basket?!
Welcome to Night Vale.

Listeners, it’s another beautiful day here in Night Vale, and I hope that you’re all outside staring wild-eyed into the sun, instead of cooped up in some dark room full of a bunch of people that you don’t know. The only thing that could ruin such a beautiful day as this is, well, this breaking news.

We have an outsider in our midst. A spy from a faraway land, a master of disguise who can mix imperceptibly into any crowd. Now this spy has been known throughout the world as the Sparrow Hawk, the Nightingale, the Southern Blue-Eyed Glossy Starling, and the Tough-Tit Titmouse.
But recently, the spy started going by the code name the Mink. Which is much better, because minks are adorable and birds are idiots.
Now the Mink has stolen secrets from the world’s most powerful governments, but unlikely most spies, the Mink works independent of any agency. They steal confidential information, but they never reveal any of that information to anyone. They are the perfect keeper of stolen knowledge.
Now the Mink does possess an unparalleled range of regional and national accents, as well as a fanny pack full of fake mustaches, eyeliner and press-on nails. Right in the fanny pack. The founders of Night Vale built this town upon secrets, with a Byzanthine system of powerful and opaque city leadership, and what are we as a town without those secrets? It would make sense, then, that the City Council and the Sheriff’s Secret Police would want to stop The Mink from learning our secrets.
So if you see anyone that you do not know, do not approach them. Because they could be a dangerous spy. Simply carry on as normal, as you would, and treat them like you would any stranger. Which is to stand 20 feet away, point and shout: “INTERLOPEER!!!”
And thus by behaving in this completely normal way, they will not think that they’ve been spotted. And then immediately go and call the Secret Police. Make sure that you have registered for a citizen’s protection account with plans starting as low as 25 dollars a month, otherwise the police will not assist.
And then once you’ve registered your account, tell the police that you saw a person you do not know. In public! And that person, thus logically could be The Mink! And they’ll catch them and we can all move on to the next terrifying news story.

2. Sports news

But first, a look at sports.
Last night witnesses reported seeing a padded man carrying an inflated lump of animal skin across an open, well lit field. They could not identify him, as his face and head were fully covered by a round plastic hat. Several other unidentified men were chasing this man, panting and sweating, and hundreds of witnesses on this side of the field all began shaking their fists in the air and chanting: “Crush! Him! Crush! Him! Crush! Him!” [audience chants]
And then witnesses on this side of the field were shaking their fists and shaking “Vio-lence! Vio-lence!” [audience chants]
And their screams reached a crescendo, and then they stopped and they watched as this man spiked the lump of animal flesh and began to inch along a pinkish trail of viscous ooze. And the very back rows began a soft chant of “What have you done? What have you done? What have you done?” and it made its way forward, row by row, until the whole auditorium was chanting: “What have you done? What have you done? What have you done? What have you done?” And the skin split open revealing a white skeletal face with two bulbous red eyes, and the face craned up on a long neck, and it hissed and it bared its fangs and snapped into the neck of the man who had spiked it tore off a long swab of fleshhhhhh. And a woman wearing all black and white stripes took this flesh and blew into it like a balloon, and handed it to another padded man, and the process started all over again.
And everyone in the crowd shouted: “Mortality!” [audience shouts it]
And this has been sports. Hmm.

3. A Word from our Sponsors

And now a word from our sponsors. For that, we go to our lovably malicious spokeshaze, Deb the sentient patch of haze!

Deb: Hiya Cecil. Hiya listening audience with your squishy human minds. So easy to manipulate! Cute, so cute. Today’s show has been brought to you by Folgers brand coffee. We at Folgers believe good coffee comes from good hammers.

Cecil: Oo, that’s so true! You know, a lot of people don’t realize that good coffee is 90 percent the quality of the hammer that you use to smash up the bean, and ten percent how much you’re willing to lie to yourself that a 20-dollar bag of coffee tastes different than a 10-dollar bag of coffee.

Deb: That’s why we at Folgers hammer our coffee extra smooth, using only American made sledgehammers. We follow the hammer traditions of the finest coffee houses. From Sicilian espresso shops where they use wooden mallets, to the great institutions of Vienna, where the ornate tile walls ring with the echoes of handcrafted silver (ball-pin) [0:01:13] wielded by tuxedo-wearing waiters.

Cecil: You know, on my vacation I went to an espresso shop in Italy, and the woman behind the counter, lovingly crushed each and every ben with just the tiniest wooden mallet. And then she lit a whole pack o matches, threw it into the cup, and that is called a macchiato.

Deb: Macchiato. I’m unconvinced Italy even exists. For instance, have I ever seen it? No, there you go.

Cecil: Uh.

Deb: Yeah.

Cecil: But Deb, let me tell you, the flavor profile of that macchiato, it was – oh, it just had hints of sulfur and splinters, it was so authentic!

Deb: Gross.

Cecil: Yeah, it was kind of gross.

Deb: Why buy your own beans and pound away them in your kitchen, when Folgers has already hammered them for you? Folgers coffee. You guys wanna go see a dead body?

Cecil: Thanks, Deb. Oh hey, have you been following this news story about The Mink?

Deb: Oh, a little. It doesn’t interest me much because I already know every secret in town.

Cecil: Wait, what?

Deb: Yeah, yeah.

Cecil: How?

Deb: Oh, how doesn’t sound important, no no no. what’s important, listeners, is that I know.  [pause, laughter] So please do buy the products that I’m advertising. I’d hate to have a teensy slip of the tongue next time I’m broadcasting to the whole town, Joanne. Hey Cecil, you wanna know Joanne’s secrets?

Cecil: I mean it seems a little private – yeah, I do. [pause, Deb whispers into Cecil’s ear]  [sultry voice] Joanne!! I am simultaneously disgusted and impressed.

Deb: And that’s just one of the secrets I know. Well, it has been great talking at you Cecil. Goodbye!

Cecil: Alright, thank you Deb! Whooo! Wow.

4. Who is the Mink?

The Secret Police are hot on the trail of the Mink. In the hall of public records, they found a set of footprints left by a size 9 Adidas, but those shoes do not match any of the hall clerks, as the hall of record employees only have hooves. The police also found a person wearing a cloak and carrying a dagger inside the Moonlite All-Nite Diner. But upon investigating, it just turned out to be Steve Carlsberg. He was holding a lobster splitter and he got his lobster bib twisted around backwards. Oh, Steve. The City Council has upgraded our alert system from orange level to red. “Um, it’s really more of a lovely amaranth?” The multi-voiced council cooed in unison.
“Um, excuse me, if the Mink never reveals any of the secrets that they learn, then what is the harm in them knowing?” asked one intrepid reporter. A brave and experienced radio man, who is quite smart and very handsome.
But the City Council just hissed back: “All knowledge is harmful!”
So I can’t argue with that.
Now the Mink has carried out heists of secrets all over the globe. West Berlin 1985, the Mink disguised themself as a security guard and learned every account number in Deutsche Bank. German police noticed a person in a security guard uniform quietly mumbling numbers to themself, and they did give chase but lost the culprit in the crowd when they donned one of those glasses with a fake nose and eyebrows.

Kuala Lumpur, 1998. The Mink disguised themself as one of the Petronas towers and learned the secrets of every person inside. Witnesses reported seeing one of the towers just leeeaning over ever so slightly, as if listening in on a conversation. But when the national police arrived, the tower leapt into the Klang River and witnesses said: “Ooh, look at that kinda long but otherwise completely normal looking boat!”

2011, the Mink staged a daring escape from a military base in Nulogorsk. After discovering the intruder, the Nulogorskian got very excited, because they had never before met anyone with only two eyes. The Mink did get away, however, by disguising themself as a pirogi. [long pause] Having been eaten, they escaped two days later through the city sewer system. Weren’t expecting that, were you?
You know, I hope we apprehend the Mink soon. I really, man, need to talk to somebody who has other secrets, it’s a journalist’s dream interview. And I mean, everybody has secrets so, I mean we all have something that we probably wouldn’t want the Mink to share on the air, I mean I know I do. You know what, “I value privacy above all else,” I have just now written on my Facebook page, so you know it’s super important to me.

5. Lee Marvin

Cecil: Oh wait, listeners, OK, I’ve just been given a note saying we have a very special birthday today. Wow, OK, this is a real honor. Listeners, please welcome to the studio, on the day of their 30th birthday, legendary actor and Night Vale resident, Lee Marvin!

Lee: It is a pleasure to be here. I don’t think we have ever met, even though it seems like we have both lived in this town forever.

Cecil: It actually does feel like forever, doesn’t it?

Lee: As we all know, time doesn’t work correctly in Night Vale. For instance, it has been my 30th birthday continuously for many years, and yet I never grow any older.

Cecil: I know just what you mean, I mean I was 19 for a long time like, decades probably.

Lee: And that’s the problem with millennials, you know?

Cecil: Yeah.

Lee: Instead of buying houses or shouting at barns, or researching owls, or any other number of normal and productive activities, they just age.

Cecil: Ugh!

Lee: Normally one day after the next. Why, I think there is not a millennial in this world who even tried to remain 19 for a terrifying number of years.

Cecil: I know! It’s lazy. Now let’s talk about the Mink. Mr. Marvin, as a very famous movie actor, I felt that you might be able to offer some analysis on someone so adept at disguises and false personas.

Lee: Well, sure sure I mean after all, what is acting but lying to a room full of strangers?

Cecil: Mm. Literally nothing at all.

Lee: When lying to a group of strangers, there are definitely some basic techniques to watch out for. One is speaking aloud. Anyone speaking aloud could be lying. Why, almost anything could be said out loud without research or citation .for instance, I could say aloud that uh, mountains are real…

Cecil: Oh come on! [Cecil and Lee laugh]

Lee: And it doesn’t matter that this is a ridiculous statement perpetuated by the mountain enthusiasts. It is still something I could and di say out loud. Another technique to look out for is accents. It seems that this Mink is able to deploy at will any accent at all. I myself am an expert at dialect and accents.

Cecil: Ooh! Would you care to give us a demonstration?

Lee: Well sure sure. Uh, start with something, a basic accent. This is an accent for someone from the country of Svitz. You’ll noticed that the Svitzians sort of speak from the back of the throat, it’s uh something like this um, [very deep, monotonous voice] “Hello, yes, thank you. I would like some cake.” Like that.
Cecil: Yeah, oh yeah.

Lee: And um, here’s another one um, this is an accent for someone from the nation of Franchia. The Franchians have an interesting thing where they an, uh, a diphthong on every single vowel. Here goes, um. Yaa-aa, soo-am ceek, thyat would bee a boath low-ly and filing. Something like that, yeah.

Cecil: Oh wow, yeah, yeah!

Lee: And here is the ccent of someone who lived until the age of ten in  Svitz, before immigrating to Franchia. And now, at the age of 50, is learning to speak English.

Cecil: Right, OK, OK.

Lee: [deep voice] Aah piece of cay-ek for me, you’re only too kind. Something like that.

Cecil: Oh that’s, that’s amazing!

Lee: Yeah. Uh, seriously though, do you have any cake, I’m starving?

Cecil: Oh. Oh actually no I’m sorry, we’re not allowed to hae cake at the radio station because it makes  Station Mangement very restless.

Lee: That’s fine, that’s fine. Well the final technique I wanted to talk about is, is disguise, I am to understand that the Mink is able to easily adopt the look of anyone they wish to. Here’s a couple of ways of disguising yourself. One is through, of course the use of masks, make up, prosthetics, it’s very difficult, technical, very Hollywood. Let’s talk about the other method though, which is simpler and just as effective.

Cecil: Oh, wait, what is that one?  

Lee: It’s OK so you simply… so you take your hand.

Cecil: uh huh.

Lee: And you put it in front of your face. And then you say aloud who you’re supposed to be disguised as.

Cecil: Ah

Lee: For instance, I’ll demonstrate. Hello, I am Tom Hanks!

Cecil: Oh my god, oh my god! Oh my god Mr Tom Hanks, I-I loved you in Turner and Hooch, and whatever else you did after that, I..

Lee: No see, it’s just me, Lee Marvin!

Cecil: Oh man!

Lee: But with my hand in front of my face… Life is very similar to a bag of chocolates!

Cecil: Oh my god it is similar to a bag of chocolates!

Lee: There’s no way to tell!

Cecil: Oh my gosh, that’s amazing, Mr. Marvin! Thank you so much, we appreciate having you on the show.

Lee: It was no problem at all, thank you for having me, Cecil. Um, we before I go, this is Judy Garland saying goodbye.

Cecil: Oh my god, oh my, oh my gosh, no wait, wait wait, Ms. Garland, Ms. Garland, just one song before you go, Miss Judy Garland!

Lee: [sings] Ring ring ring goes the (–)..

Cecil: Ah! Judy Garland, everyone!

6. Children’s Fun Fact Science Corner

Now it’s time for the Children’s Fun Fact Science Corner.
It’s a very special anniversary today, kids. On this day in 1872, the moon was invented. Yeah. You see, scientists had been reading a lot of paperback horror novels about werewolves and thought, wait! If the moon were a thing, then werewolves might also be a thing! So they built a moon out of limestone and hired artist (Marie Kassaut) [0:00:30] to paint it with a giant smiling wolf doing an “okay” sign with its paw and winking. But there was a problem: when they launched it up into the sky, something happened with the catapult, and it landed with the unpainted side facing the Earth. And almost a hundred years later, NASA would claim to have landed on the moon, but twinkly dot scientists or, oh sorry that’s what I call astronomers, they just proved that to be false. And you know, NASA retracted their statement saying: “Oh we were just joshing” and the American people all had a good chuckle.
And ever since Alexander Fleming invented the werewolf vaccine – also known as penicillin – the moon is mostly just an ineffectual artefact, like a reminder of our once terrible taste in celestial bodies.
And that is why each and every night, we all shout: “I hate you, moon!” up into the sky, and even though we can’t see it, we all think of that wolf on the dark side, quietly winking, and shedding a tear. [weeping]
And this has been the Children’s Fun Fact Science Corner.
It’s true. Science.

7. The Community Calendar
Let’s take a look at the community calendar, shall we?
Let’s see here, Monday night there is a blood drive in the Ralphs parking lot. There’s gonna be a van parked in the far corner, like just beyond the trees, and if you go inside that van, some blood will be taken from you.
“Oh yeah, (she’s) gonna come out of you one way or another, man!” said a rapidly talking man in a dirty T-shirt, who I am not sure is connected to the blood drive at all.
“Oh yeah, we’re just gonna do amazing things with your blood, man! Don’t worry about what, [disturbing voice] we’re just gonna do really good things with your blood!”
and then he finished up by saying the national blood drive slogan: “Bloooooooooooood!!!”
So I guess just, get on into the blood van!

Tuesday was lost last night by Bernadette Flynn, as she was watching the newly released remake of last year’s Spiderman movie. She thinks maybe Tuesday fell behind the seat during the film or something. So if anybody sees Tuesday, please let Bernadette Flynn know, as it was an old family heirloom, and her favorite day of the week.

Wednesday night is 80’s night at Dark Owl Records. For more on that, let’s hear from Dark Owl owner, Michelle Nguyen!

Cecil: Hey, Michelle!

Michelle: Hello, Cecil! On 80’s night, we’ll be putting on leg warmers and fingerless gloves, listening to Duran Duran, and thinking hard about what our lives will be like when we are 80 years old.

Cecil: Ahhh, that sounds like fun!

Michelle: We will consider life insurance plans and talk about several types of diseases that will affect our later years. There will also be a moonwalking demonstration, just like that famous Michael Jackson dance where he walked around shouting: “I hate you moon!”

Cecil: Yeah, yeah. Did you know it’s actually the moon’s birthday today?

Michelle: Stupid rock!

Cecil: Garbage satellite! Anyway, so Michelle, to change the subject, the Mink could peek into our private lives at any moment. Is there something that you are personally worried that they would find?

Michelle: [long pause] No.

Cecil: Oh, come on Michelle, we all have secrets! Is there any music you listen to that you would be ashamed of people knowing about?

Michelle: Please. You’re the one that starts every day with a choreographed lip sync to Robyn’s 2010 B-side “Cry When You Get Older”, and then you cry for a while, because you have gotten older.

Cecil: [sourly] Yeah.

Michelle: Each day just a little bit more and sometimes that makes you happy and other times it makes you sad and either way you feel like crying. Probably.

Cecil: [mumbles] Oh, yeah.

Michelle: That’s probably what you do, certainly I wouldn’t! I wake up listening to Leonard Cohen’s new album: “Wait Where Am I, I Thought I Died and How Is This Even Being Recorded?”

Cecil: [impressed] Oh, yeah.

Michelle: I listen to that album in full and then nod thoughtfully, and drink three cups of black coffee.

Cecil: Mmm.

Michelle: [scoffs] I don’t even know who Robyn is and I would never scream sing along to “Dancing On My Own” whenever I miss my mother.

Cecil: [scoffs] Oh wait, your mother, I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned her before.

Michelle: I learned everything about music from her. She once found me listening to The Smiths and said, [different accent] “Michelle! What are you doing! Morrissey turned out to be the worst person ever! I give you shelter over your head, three meal a day and access to a working time machine. And you don’t even use it to find out which celebrity turned out to be bad? It’s almost all celebrity, Michelle! Almost all celebrity turned out to be bad!” And she was right about that, Cecil. Can you name a good celebrity?

Cecil: Um, oh there’s Lee Marvin!

Michelle: That’s right, just Robyn.

Cecil: Just Robyn, yeah that’s it.

Michelle: I can’t think of anyone else either. Then my mother would say: “Michelle! I don’t wan the world to be the way that it is, but the world is that way. And people will judge. They will judge you for what you wear and what you listen to and what you say. They will judge you especially hard for so many unfair reason. So that music you listen to, that make you happy? Don’t let go of it. Never show that weakness to the world. In public, you listen to the music that tell them who you are, and you wear the clothes that show them wo you are. Always be one step ahead of them. And then at night, when it’s just you and  you’ve played their game and you’ve won, then you put on a record that makes you happy, and you let yourself sing!” Then one day, my mother took the time machine back to prehistoric times, to try to retrieve some of their music, which would have been the coolest and most obscure sons. But she never returned. I miss her, but I’ll never forget the last thing she told me. She said, “Michelle! I cannot emphasize enough how awful Morrissey turned out to be!”

Cecil: Awwww. Wow. Gosh Michelle, I’m so sorry about your mother, but thank you for sharing that extremely personal story on the air.

Michelle: Uh.. No what no? No, I don’t think I did. We were talking about 80’s night. Come to 80’s night! There will be a Cyndi Lauper lookalike competition, and the winner will take over Cyndi’s life, becoming the fifth person to play that role. See you there! Or not, whatever.

Cecil: Thank you, Michelle!

More on the community calendar.
Thursday night is the adopt a pet fair at the Last Bank of Night Vale. There’s gonna all sorts of animals, and they will come home with you. You don’t even have to go to the fair. They already know where your home is. And they’re gonna be waiting for you. When you open your door that night, there’s gonna be panting and snarling and two little blinks of light, right inside your darkened doorway.
So wow, that sounds like a really fun and socially important event!

And finally, Friday is Bring Your Issues to Work Day. So really dig deep there, people! Let ‘em loose!
And this has been the community calendar.

8. Tamika Flynn

Cecil: So listeners, I’m joined in my studio right now by the most vigilant defender of Night Vale and of literature. Please welcome to the air 16-year-old Tamika Flynn!

Tamika: [giggles] Hi Cecil, hi!

Cecil: Hi Tamika! Now, you must be alarmed that there’s a dangerous spy on the loose.

Tamika: Of course! It’s not safe to have an interloper learning our secrets.

Cecil: But what could they learn that would hurt us?

Tamika: Oh, lots of stuff. What if they start uncovering all the plot twists of our favorite novels, like “Murder on the Orient Express”, Agatha Christie’s brilliant whodunit. What if they read ahead and learned at the murderer turns out to be-

Cecil: Wubububububuh! Spoilers! I mean, some of us haven’t read it yet!

Tamika: Oh I’m just teasing. That book doesn’t even have an ending. It’s the only murder Agatha could never solve.

Cecil: Hmm, hm.

Tamika: But learning secrets can be harmful, like one time, I was waiting in line at midnight for the release of the sixth Harry Potter book, and some jerk drove by and shouted: “Snape and Dumbledore are both featured prominently in the new novel!” [angry noise] Ruined.

Cecil: I’ve never read the sixth book!

Tamika: Oh.

Cecil: I’ve only read the third and the seventh. So now the whole experience is ruined!

Tamika: Well, if it makes you feel any better, I chased that fool down and I punched him until his bruises spelled out: “Don’t mess with a Hufflepuff!” But I do have a plan to catch this spy. I’ll disguise myself as the Mink. And then I’ll walk around town until I find someone that’s dressed exactly like me.

Cecil: Ah.

Tamika: [giggles] And then I’ll grab them and I’ll whisper that famous, oh um and then I’ll grab them and shout at them and say: “You wanna spoil the endings of books, pal? Why don’t you try Stephen King’s ‘It’, that whole ending is terrible!”

Cecil: Oh, come on, I liked the ending of “It”!

Tamika: Really?

Cecil: Yeah, you know when It just turns out to be the friends we made along the way. You and you and you… It’s nice. OK, anyway, Tamika. Now I have a question. How are you going to disguise yourself as the Mink, when nobody knows what the Mink actually looks like?

Tamika: Well I’ll j-, but I c-..

Cecil: I know.

Tamika: Oh.

Cecil: Yeah…

Tamika: Fine. Then, oh I’ll dress up as a manila folder with a “top secret” stamp on it!

Cecil: Oh yeah.

Tamika: And then when someone tries to take me, I’ll grab them and whisper that famous movie speech: “I don’t know who you are. I don’t know what you want. I don’t have any money. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills.”

Cecil: Ah!

Tamika: “Skills that I’ve acquired through reading! Would you like a list of book recommendations? Here are a few I think you’d enjoy.”

Cecil: Ah, ha ha!

Tamika: Yes!

Cecil: Oh man, that is my favorite scene from “Say Anything”.

Tamika: Yeah! [giggles] When John Cusack holds that boombox above his head outside the terrorist headquarters, I mean [kiss]! [laughs]

Cecil: So good!

Tamika: Yes.

Cecil: Mm mm, now wait. The Mink is a real threat, and they are interested in learning far more than just book spoilers. I mean, you in particular might be in danger, Tamika.

Tamika: [giggles] Cecil, I’m 16 years old. I know everything there is to know about taking care of myself, OK?

Cecil: Oh yeah, OK, alright. Alright. But listen, if you catch the Mink, bring them here to the studio, because I need to have a moment…

Tamika: Wanna rough him up?

Cecil: Oh uuuuh, um..

Tamika: Yeeeah, like I’ll pin him down and then you take this copy of Hanya Yanagihara’s “Little Life” and just like, bam, bam, bam!

Cecil: Oh, oh.

Tamika: Bam!

Cecil: Oh!

Tamika: This book made me cry, now it’s making you cry, sucker!

Cecil: Uh.. Yeah sure, something like that.

Tamika: Yeah. [giggles]

Cecil: Um-

Tamika: Well, I think I’m off to get that Mink!

Cecil: All right, thank you Tamika! Be safe. Tamika Flynn, everyone!

9. Public Service Announcement

And now, a public service announcement. The Night Vale Youth Fitness Initiative recommends at least 60 minutes a day outdoors for children under the age of 18. Being outdoors encourages kids to be more active and social. Fitness Initiative spokesperson, (Jin Housong) said: “Kids spend too much time indoors, and that makes it very difficult for us to monitor their physical agility and speed! We are trying to find children to fight in the Blood Space War, and that is very difficult when all kids wanna do is spend all their time inside Snapchatting and playing Fortnite.” Some outdoor activities encouraged by the Youth Fitness Initiative include cycling, soccer, breath holding, sensory deprovation, G force resistance, and string theory. The staff of the Youth Fitness Initiative welcome any kid wanting to have fun outdoor time to come on down to the Intergalactic Military Base. They can’t tell you where it is, but they are more than happy to send a chaperone in a burlap sack, and a van.
And this has been a public service announcement.

10. Telly the Barber

So listeners, several Night Vale residents have sent in reports of seeing strangers sneaking about town, possible sightings of the elusive Mink. And we have one such witness with us in the studio right now. Please welcome – Telly the barber.

Telly: Hi Cecil!

Cecil: [long pause] Have you cut any hair lately,  Telly?

Telly: Oh sure, I’m always-

Cecil: Have you cut any hair that didn’t need cutting, Telly?

Telly: I-I think we all saw the signs..

Cecil: Have you taken any innocent person, any handsome person and perfectly coiffed scientist person’s hair and then just destroyed it so completely that you had to leave town, Telly?

Telly: Not lately.

Cecil: Mm hm.

Telly: Did you wanna hear my story?

Cecil: No.

Telly: OK, I’ll just hum and cut my hair with this butterknife.

Cecil: Oh OK, alright alright alright alright, I’ve changed my mind, I do wanna hear your story.

Telly: OK. So ever since that one bad haircut and please tell Carlos I’m so sorry, see he asked me for a light trim on the sides, and I misheard it as “shave asterisk in my sideburns, then cut me some bangs.”

Cecil: Bangs? Ugh.

Telly: After that, I banished myself to the desert, rehoning my cutting skills on cacti and tarantulas. Did you know that tarantulas are venomous?

Cecil: Yeah, I- I actually knew that. Oh my god, your hand!

Telly: I learned the hard way. But, but it was a great experience, see I finally reopened my barber shop in Night Vale last year, over by the library. Some of the librarians come in from time to time, I-I have to chain their tentacles to the (–) [0:01:45] first, and then I use grooming sheers to trim the hair along their pincers, which is tough because of the foaming slime that gathers there. Did you know that librarian saliva is acidic?

Cecil: Yeah of course, everybody – oh my god, your other hand!

Telly: I’m earning so much

Cecil: Ugh.

Telly: Anyway, earlier this week, an interloper came to my shop. They were wearing a hockey mask and a turtleneck, they had long thick curly black hair and they whispered: ”I need a new look! Can you cut it short and blond?” so I did.

Cecil: That could have been the Mink!

Telly: Why don’t you just tell the story, Cecil?

Cecil: Well no I’m sorry, I’m sorry. No please, go ahead.

Telly: So the next day-

Cecil: Please tell us more about the lives that those scissors have ruined.

Telly: The next day, the same person returned and they were wearing a sleep mask, vampire teeth, and a drum major coat. An excellent disguise, but I know my own work and I recognize their haircut immediately. I said: “Hello, brand new customer whom I have never seen before! What can I do for you?”

And they whispered: “I need a new look. Can you cut it long and straight with a beard like that guy from Queer Eye?”

Cecil: Awww, I love Jonathan Van Ness! Oh hey, did you ever see that episode where they consult that stone obelisk on that uninhabited island?

Telly: Yeah yeah that’s the one where Jonathan was like: “We’re gonna make those cliffs glow!”

Cecil: Yeaah!

Telly: And then he uttered an ancient prayer and was granted a bent scepter and control of the weather.

Cecil: And then they just spent the rest of the episode flying around the island, screaming in Latin and zapping Bobby with lightning.

Telly: That was a great episode!

Cecil: So good.

Telly: You know, the part about the cliffs was so empowering .

Cecil: Yeah!

Telly: Anyway, I performed a wild flurry of scissor snips around the stranger’s head, and voila, they have long straight hair and a beard. Every day this week they’ve come to me, they wanted a Pam Greer Afro, a Sid Vicious Mohawk. That famous Friends haircut, the Ross.

Cecil: You know what you should do? Next time they come in, ask them to get like a blow dry or a perm, and then while they’re waiting-

Telly: Uh, well… don’t be mad.

Cecil: Wait, what?

Telly: So they were today and I kinda messed up? I-I don’t think they’ll be back.

Cecil: Oh come on, Telly!

Telly: See they wanted a 90’s fade and I misheard, and I cut my own foot off. See?

Cecil: Oh my god! Telly, you didn’t even put a bandage on it!

Telly: I didn’t wanna be late to your show. Anyway, they looked really annoyed and left before they got any more blood on them.

Cecil: Ugh. Well you know the important thing is that you tried. I mean, you messed up in a really serious way that I did not even think was possible, but… you tried. And also, I’m sorry I yelled at you before.

Telly: Thanks, Cecil. You know, this might be the blood loss talking but that means so much to me.

Cecil: Sure. Hey listen, have you ever thought about a different career maybe?

Telly: Like knife sharpening or gun cleaning, or chainsaw repair?

Cecil: You know what, no no, just stick to the barbering, Telly. Thank you so much.

Telly: Sure thing.

Cecil: Telly the Barber, everyone! Just grind it into the carpet, no one will ever know.

12. Sightings of the Mink

We are getting reports of Mink sightings all over town. Archeology professor Joel Eisenberg saw a stranger outside of Mission Grove Park, and they were dressed all in black and they were holding copy of the Night Vale Daily Journal, just high enough to cover their face. Now, Joel Eisenberg saw this person, and pointed and shouted “Interloper”, and then being a friendly neighbor, went over and said “Hi, I’m Joel, do you like dinosaurs?” And the stranger said yes, but kept their face hidden.

“What’s your favorite dinosaur? Mine’s the ichthyosaur.”

And the stranger said, “Yeah, I guess so, sure.”

And Joel’s face reddened and his voice thickened like wet concrete.

“Ichthyosaurs aren’t dinosaurs! Mink!” [scoffs]

Imposter didn’t even know the difference between a marine lizard and a dinosaur. But they did know how to throw that newspaper in Joel’s face and run.

Jackie Fierro, owner of the local pawn shop, said her half mother Diane Crayton came to the store to ask if Jackie sold cars that fired rockets from behind their headlights and/or turn into boats, and/or had ejector seats. Now, Jackie thought this was a fairly odd request from a single mother with a fairly bland day job. “What do you need all that for, Diane?” asked Jackie.

“It’s for my son, Josh Josh, my son’s name is Josh.”

Now Jackie knew this was not the real Diane. She was nose to nose with the Mink. Jackie started to speak, but there was a quick puff of smoke and the would-be-Diane was gone, and in their place, there was a wad that looked like skin and hair. And Jackie picked it up, and it was a perfect replica of Diane’s face.

Later, at the old shipping port, Tamika Flynn trailed a suspect into a dilapidated warehouse along the waterfront, which has no water, because we live in a desert. Which is a huge reason why they had to shut down the shipping port. Anyway, it was dark inside the abandoned building save for streaks of dusty sunlight through the shaddered windows, and Tamika heard a creaking from a pile of boxes nearby, and she was frightened, unable to move. But wait, she thought. Why, I’m the predator, the Mink is the prey. And then she remembered those famous lines from Alfred Lord Tennyson’s “Charge of the Light Brigade.” “I’m here to kick butt and chew bubblegum. Why not both?”

So she threw some chicklets into her mouth and shouted: “You’re trapped, Mink!” and raced toward the sound and a figure emerged from behind a tower of boxes, and they pushed the crates down on Tamika, but she did this like, backflip-kick thing and knocked that interloper right out of the warehouse onto the deck. And as they approached, the Mink pulled out a remote control and a tiny helicopter descended from nowhere and a tiny ladder descended from the tiny helicopter, and the Mink grabbed onto it and flew away.

Man, I thought Tamika really had him that time. I really wanna take a moment to just interview this person, someone who has all these secrets, just for journalistic reasons of course.

It would make the interview of the century.

13. Sheriff Sam

But until that moment, the Sheriff’s Secret Police would like us to know that they have this Mink situation firmly in hand. And in order to show how under control it is, the Sheriff would like to speak to you themself. Listeners, Sheriff Sam!

Sam: Hello Sessil.

Cecil: Cecil.

Sam: Sessil.

Cecil: Cecil.

Sam: Do you know, I really feel like I’m saying it. Sessil.

Cecil: Yeah, it-it sounds good enough, alright.

Sam: Now before I start, I want to apologize to the people of Night Vale for what I’ve done. And let me finish. I disagree that the new seasons of “The Great British Bake Off” are better. And I’m very sad that Mary Berry is no longer there, you know I couldn’t get enough of her famous catch phrase: “I’m unable to feel anything at all. Unless I can see clear layers in a baked good.”

Cecil: Ah, such a good catch phrase!

Sam: And I don’t like that they replaced Mel and Sue with two polar bears, who toy with and eventually eat the last place finisher.

Cecil: Yeah, I think I think it will grow us on, right?

Sam: Yeah but all that being said, I really shouldn’t have done what I did last night. When I raised my voice and said: “Paul Hollywood needs a new wardrobe.” I mean, what’s with those blue jeans, right?  

Cecil: Yeah, yeah.

Sam: And then Paul started crying and wailed: “Why would you say that, powerful desert law enforcer?” And channel 4 immediately cancelled the series.

Cecil: I know, I-I didn’t get to see the technical challenge that episode.

Sam: No. And I-I know it was your favorite show and now it’s gone..

Cecil: Yeah.

Sam: So I’m sorry. Television is a two-way street..

Cecil: Yeah.

Sam: ..and I should have thought about that.

Cecil: That’s right, they can hear us. So I-I, listen, I accept your apology and besides, it’s actually kind of nice not to have the TV on and to get to spend more time with my husband. Yeah.

Sam: And you know I didn’t even mean what meant, what I said. I didn’t even mean what I meant. [chuckles] I didn’t even mean what I meant when I said that thing about Paul Hollywood. I should look at the script, it would be more useful.

Cecil: That’s…

Sam: [chuckles] I think Paul Hollywood does look good in jeans, I mean he’s stepfather hot.

Cecil: Oh wait, please. He’s more like divorced tax accountant dad hot. That’s, you know. Anyway, let’s change the subject. I wanted to speak to you today about the Mink. Now, they are a master of disguise and this has made it impossible for us to find them. Does the Sheriff’s Secret Police have a plan to determine who the Mink is?

Sam: Well, we’ve consulted with experts, and outside of fringe sciences like parapsychology, divination, genetics…

Cecil: Yeah, right.

Sam: Not really, no. But we do have a new law enforcement tool. It’s called the brainwave transposition ray. [long pause, apparently something visual is going on]

Cecil: OK you’re just doing like spirit fingers.

Sam: Not at all. This is the brainwave transposition ray. Sessil, simply put: you point it at a potential criminal, which is to say anybody at all. And it tells you exactly what they’re currently thinking.

Cecil: Whoa!

Sam: Here, I’ll show you how it works. Now there might be Night Vale citizens on the sidewalk outside the studio, I can try it on.

Cecil: OK.

Sam: Let me move over to the window and… weird.

Cecil: What?

Sam: There’s hundreds of people staring at us right now.

Cecil: I know, they’ve been here the whole time. It’s making me nervous, but you know, it’s fine.

Sam: Yeah, creepy.

Cecil: Yeah.

Sam: Well, you see if I point the device right at this person, we should be able to hear their exact thoughts.

Cecil: Mm.

Voice: I like many kinds of animals, but I like sea lions best.

Cecil: Huh.

Sam: I mean doesn’t sound like the Mink…

Cecil: Ah no, no.

Sam: OK, let’s try someone else.

Voice: I forgot to wash the blood off the bath tub, my wife’s gonna kill me. Oh god.

Sam: No, the Mink wouldn’t be married.

Cecil: Yeah, yeah.

Sam: Let’s try…

Voice: Sure hope the Secret Police won’t arrest me for wearing a full disguise and a mask.

Cecil: Whoa! That’s the Mink!

Voice: Cause I’m not wearing a disguise or a mask. I’m just Chris (Brothon) from Night Vale with my usual face and limbs, and my greatest fear is false arrest.

Cecil: Oh. That was very specific.

Sam: Ahem. You know, having a fear of false arrest is highly illegal, so we’ll be by soon to collect you, Chris. Let’s try one more. Do you want to try doing it?

Cecil: Well I oh, I don’t know Sheriff, I mean it’s an amazing device but it does seem rather intrusive. Are you sure it’s safe?

Sam: Yes yes of course come on, try it on me. [loud music, glass shatters]

Cecil: Oh wow. That’s, that’s great. I-I had no idea that that’s what you’re thinking right now.

Sam: Yeah sure, why what do your thoughts sound like?

Cecil: I love my husband. I love my husband. I also agree that sea lions are so cute. So cute! Soo cute!!

Sam: None of that was illegal at all, how disappointing.

Cecil: Yeah I know, I’m sorry. Um, you know but I do hope that you end up arresting Chris later on.

Sam: Well that will cheer me up. Now Sessil, you do help me look on the bright side so thank you and do give me a shout if you find out anything about the Mink.

Cecil: Alright, I will. Thank you, Sheriff Sam!

13. Ascentia Ad

Cecil: And now another word from our sponsors.

[talks very fast] Today’s show is also brought to you by Ascentia. If you’ve ever felt anything at all, there’s Ascentia. Talk to your doctor about Ascentia. Your doctor is a spider, all black eyes and long legs, clinging effortlessly to the wall. Tell your doctor how afraid you are but don’t say anything out loud unless you are (-) [ 0:00:18] paralyzed by your choice of fight or flight. Do not fight your doctor, your doctor is good. They eat a lot of bugs, they’re super helpful. Your doctor is just as afraid of you as you are of them. Do not take Ascentia if you’ve ever seen a dog. Spiritual transcendence is uncommon, but if you find yourself no longer in a physical body, please stop taking Ascentia immediately and contact a medium with a medical training and a Ouija board. Ascentia might cause night (-). Ask your doctor about Canada. Do not take Aponto which is our competitor. Aponto users report high levels of centipedes inside their necks, crawling around right before bed and on first dates. Ascentia is a solar flare, a radioactive magnetic burst that should not be taken with alcohol. Do not breathe for 30 minutes after taking Ascentia.

You’re a person. That’s why there’s…

Ascentia.

14. Deb Returns

Cecil: And now I present to you a major milestone in radio history: the first ever audio only magic shooooow! Yes, yes, yes!

Now listen, I’ve been practicing these tricks perfectly and I have every single one of them down, even the one with the-the doves and the aerial dancers. So, for my first trick, I will take a flamethrower that I have hidden under the… [long pause] OK, listeners, that may have to wait. For some reason, Deb the sentient patch of haze has returned to my studio. What’s up Deb?

Deb: Hello, Cecil! How are you? Oh, doesn’t this place just look a treat? Oh, and all the doves! I love doves! Almost as much as I love horses.

Cecil: Deb, are you OK?

Deb: Cecil, thank you, I’m doing wonderful, how are you? Oh, and isn’t this just the cutest little studio! Is that a safe? Full of secrets? How adorable! I can’t, I won’t, I absolutely will not…

Cecil: You sound a little different or something.

Deb: Well do you know what would make this studio that much more perfect, Cecil? Beautiful crystalline horse figurines. Can’t you just picture them? Oh, all of the sparkly horses! Especially, tsk tsk tsk, on that safe. I bet that safe just has the cutest combination.

Cecil: Oh yeah, it’s super cute, but I don’t see what it has to-

Deb: As a kid, I remember watching the horses drop by my house. Can you believe it, I grew up near a horse farm? “Get inside!” my mother would yell. [shrill voice] “You know you’re allergic!” But how could allergies ever stand up to my love of horses? Say, I bet the inside of that safe is even that much more adorable..

Cecil: Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!

Deb: Can I ju-

Cecil: Love? Deb isn’t capable of love! Oh my god, you’re the Mink!

Deb: Nooo! No!

Cecil: Yes, the Mink has disguised themself as Deb in order to infiltrate my studio!

Deb: That’s not true.

Cecil: Yeah, certain small tells in their behavior indicated that this is not the real Deb!

Deb: No I’m definitely Bed, I mean Deb, excuse me..

Cecil: No wait wait wait, before you go, I just need to have a moment…

15. The Chase

Cecil: Tamika, this is the Mink! [long pause, suspenseful music] And the Mink has just jumped into a 1987 yellow (-) [0:00:22] and raced off, and Tamika is leaping onto her motorcycle and speeding after, and the Sheriff’s Secret Police, who had our station under surveillance, are joining the chase. The Mink has now turned the wrong way down a one way street and is weaving through oncoming traffic, and Tamika is racing up a loading ramp, jumping her bike from rooftop to rooftop, from rooftop to bus stop, and from bus stop to the street. She’s finally hit the ground and she’s only a few feet away from the Mink’s car and they’re swerving back and forth trying to get her to veer off. Watch out, Tamika!

Breaking news: I have just learned that the Mink and their ever increasing search for secrets has started to delve into forbidden and dangerous knowledge. Six security guards at the top secret facility on Oak Street have gone missing, and the entire place was ransacked. This is all according to a spokesperson from the Vague Yet Menacing Government Agency, who looked a lot like my neighbor Madeline, and lives in Madeline’s house but had a sign that says “I’m not Madeline”, so I have no idea where I’m getting any of this information.

Anyway, that spokesperson said that among the classified secrets taken were the truth about who killed JFK, Amelia Earhart’s continued whereabouts, several nuclear codes and what, what, what? That Night Vale resident and actor Lee Marvin died decades ago? But that’s impossible! Like, he’s alive and well, and today is his 30th birthday.

Update on the chase. Tamika has now trapped the Mink’s car at the top of a towering cliff, and the Mink is fleeing on foot, and overhead helicopters of every kind circle, and the Sheriff’s Secret Police secret police cars roar by on a nearby road, and dark clouds are gathering, and there is lightning and thunder and listen, I know it does rain sometimes in the desert but it was, like, sunny 15 seconds ago but this is a really compelling picture that I’m painting for all of you. And the wind is whipping back Tamika’s hair as she sprints after the Mink, who is rearranging their disguise even as they flee, but finally they hit a dead end. It’s a sheer drop on both sides. “There’s no way left to go, Mink!” Tamika shouts into the gusts of wind, and the Mink smiles at her ever so sadly and then – steps backward off the cliff. Now Tamika, not willing to let her (quarry) go so easily – jumps after. Let me get some information on this, this has all gone terribly wrong. But in the meantime,

Let’s check in

On the weather.

16. The Weather

[“Company Man” by Dane Terry, https://daneterry.bandcamp.com/]

17. Where is the Mink

Listeners, I do hope you found that weather report was edifying. I’ve been trying to get any word that I can on Tamika or the Mink, but they both have vanished. The helicopters lost track of them as they fell through the long curtain of rain, and so no one can say what happened next but – that fall was quite long.

This is all my fault. I knew it was dangerous, but I was blind to the dangers that I was asking Tamika to perform, because I wanted to speak with the Mink so badly. And now I fear – we have lost her.

I have never wanted to say these words but.. to the family of Tamika Flynn, I will never forget myself for what I have done, I will never be able to-

Tamika: No, I’m alive! I’m not dead!

Cecil: Tamika, oh Tamika!

Tamika: Hi hi hey hey hey, hey hey hey, I’m down here, no worries.

Cecil: What happened?!

Tamika: Oh, I-I caught the Mink.

Cecil: What?

Tamika: Yeah! They’re right hear.

Cecil: [gasps] [long pause]

Tamika: Yeah, I-I found them.

Cecil: That’s amazing, I’m so impressed!

Tamika: [chuckles] Bam, one Mink caught, I am very good at this.

Cecil: Yeah! No wait, are you positive that’s the Mink though?

Tamika: Yes. Well, I got some intel on their latest disguise, and they’re wearing sunglasses.

Cecil: Uh huh.

Tamika: You can put them over (–)  [0:01:33]. They’re wearing a hat.

Cecil: OK, yeah.

Tamika: It’s clean.

Cecil: Yeah, yeah, clean hat. Clean hat Mink, that’s what they call him.

Tamika: And they’re wearing a name tag that says: “Hello, I’m the Mink!”

Cecil: Aaaa, yes, that is some brilliant deduction!

Tamika: I am very smart.

Cecil: Yeah, well done but Tamika, bring them into my studio for just one second before the Secret Police get here, OK?

Tamika: Alright, we’re on our way!

Cecil: Alright, thank you Tamika! Oh, that’s such a relief! Whoa. (But!)  You know, it just goes to show that reckless decision making and snap decisions always pay off. And I’m so glad that I turned out to be 100 percent right about this whole situation. Versus how 100 percent wrong about this whole situation I was just a few months ago.

But you know, listen, I’ve gotta confess something to you all, and I hate to do this because I hold myself to high standards both morally and journalistically, but – I lied to you just a tiny little bit on my show, because I didn’t know who was listening. But now I will make it up to you by telling you all the truth. Not all the truth, I’m gonna withhold just a little piece of information, but I’m letting you know upfront that there’s one thing that I cannot tell you.

Listen, I was never seeking the Mink for professional reasons, not because it would make the interview of the century or because I wanted to get them to spill all their secrets on the air, no. I wanted to talk to them because they never spill their secrets, because listeners, I have this secret that I have been holding for two years, and I have to tell someone! And here comes this opportunity to talk to his person that never spills any of their secrets. They’re the perfect keeper of forbidden knowledge. And now, here they are.

Thank you so much, Tamika. Now Mink, I gotta tell you something, you know and I’ve only, I don’t think I’ve ever told anybody. Wait, hold on a sec-

18. Secret Interdlue

[music, audience reacts, no audible dialogue]

19. The Escape

Cecil: Oh no, they’re getting away! Aaaaah. Oh man, uh! Ahhhh. [strained noises] We’ll never catch them now. The Mink has escaped. Now, we as a society, we fear secrets. You know, maybe as a species, if we don’t fear them we look down upon them like secret lies or dirty little secrets, and if someone is not willing to say something out loud, then it must be shameful or evil or somehow incorrect but a secret, it’s not good or bad, it’s just not known and the universe is filled with secrets, like consider a field flush with flowers that humans have not seen in generations. If we don’t know about it, is it a secret or or, or a star in the middle of the galaxy that our telescopes do not reach. We will never know about this star, but it glitters secretly in the heart of the universe or, or something more down to earth and mundane like a, like a person who has never tasted a turnip. Doesn’t know what a turnip tastes like and just refuses to ask anybody or eat a turnip. Is that a secret? I don’t know. What is unknown and what is merely unsaid?

Officials from the Sheriff’s Secret Police, the City Council, and the Vague yet Menacing Government Agency all say that they have plans to catch the Mink and those plans are top secret. And since they’re top secret, the Mink has already learned about them, so they are highly unlikely to work. But you know what? Good luck.

Soon I imagine we will all return to a baseline normal as a town, a little less darkness, a lot less secrets but we’re still us, we’re still Night Vale. You know, there’s an energy in secrets. Who we share them with, who we don’t. And not everybody has a right to know everything about everyone, and our curiosity, it’s not a license. And we don’t have to share every part of ourselves with everyone, there’s no shame in privacy. There is, however, an energy in secrets, there’s a-a fission that happens when you share a secret with somebody. And that secret could be an aspect of love, platonic love or romantic love or the love you owe to yourself, love of every kind. And the biggest secret of all is the universe, one that we will never get to unravel.

I mean, I had a secret, and I needed the Mink to help me carry it. And I know that they’re not going to bow to peer pressure and tell aanybody what I just told them. No matter how many drinks people buy at the bar afterwards and say “Hey, what did he just say to you?” No, they’re gonna keep that secret. You know, secrets can be light. Share them with somebody, don’t share them with somebody, hold them for yourself. I mean I’m not ashamed of my secret, certainly not. Certainly not.

See? There’s an energy in secrets. Especially in secrets that all of you will never get to know.

There is an energy in secrets, and I hope that that energy lifts you.

So stay tuned next for the quiet roar of your secret thoughts, some of which you may some day share.

And for the secret heart of my secret self,

Good night, Night Vale,

Good night.

162 - “Alpha”

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
Fear makes the heart grow louder.
And death makes the heart grow flowers.
Welcome to Night Vale.

Amelia Anna Alfaro was always the best at everything.
On the day she was born, she was named the healthiest baby at Night Vale General Hospital. The doctors had never seen a healthier baby. “What a healthy baby,” they said from behind a bullet proof two-way mirror, as they operated the robotic arms that carefully held the infant aloft.
The doctors high-fived each other, missing slightly. The trick, by the way, is to keep your eye on the other person’s elbow. That or glue high-powered magnets to each person’s hand. And all of the nurses cheered from dozens of feet down the hallway, where they were playing with a standard Tarot deck, common in most neonatal units. This cheering was unrelated to Amelia’s birth. The nurses had drawn the ten of swords, which is everyone’s favorite card. It features a relaxed man receiving acupuncture by a river.

Amelia learned to walk at 4 months, and to talk at 6 months. She read Plato’s “Republic” for the first time at age 4. She taught herself German and began to write sonnets in that language at age 7. At age 10, she won her first engineering competition after designing a concrete canoe that could float even on the most turbulent water. There is no body of water in Night Vale, so she had to prove her work using a software she wrote that generated three-dimensional models to corroborate her advanced mechanical physics formulas. She even won the state spelling bee five years in a row, from ages 9 to 13. Her streak was only broken when the spelling bee was canceled, after the sponsors lost their dictionary.

Amelia was always the best, and her mother knew it. Her mother was proud of her daughter, or rather, her mother was proud of herself for producing such a daughter. Or rather, she was proud of both, in a way that was difficult for them to untangle. Amelia’s mother was named Yvette. Yvette could not afford much for her daughter. She worked long hours to earn the respect of her bosses, which (-) [0:04:32] her promotions and larger paychecks, but Yvette had hit the glass ceiling. She did not want this limitation for her daughter. Her daughter would need to be smarter, more talented, and more driven than she. Yvette wanted
Amelia’s value to the world to be so great that no one could deny her success.

Yvette recognized Amelia’s specialness and pushed hard to make her even more special, signing Amelia up for athletics and adult learning classes and piano lessons. Amelia sometimes pushed against this. “Mother, I don’t want to” was met with, “But you will, Amelia.” “Why?” was met with, “Because I said so.” “I hate you for this” was met with, “You will love me for it later.”

Begrudgingly, Amelia fulfilled her mother’s wishes. It wasn’t because she understood her mother’s motivation to secure her child a better life, nor was it because Amelia did not have the stomach to fight back. No, Amelia did it because it all came so easy. She was a black belt, a sharp shooter, an academic decathlon champion. She wrote her first novel at age 12, it was called “A Golden Age for Parachuting”, in which an all-Jewish female parachute team wins Olympic gold in 1936 Berlin in front of Adolf Hitler. In the publisher’s rejection letter, the editor said the novel was “immaculately written, however parachuting stories are out of vogue. Do you have anything about magical baseball players?”
Amelia did. It was a novel called “One Last Swing for the Tuesday Boys”, but she had written it in German and did not have time to translate the “Dienstag Jungen” manuscript, because she was currently taking a course on bird husbandry.

Yvette enrolled the teenage Amelia in night classes at the community college, where she took English 113, “Sonnets are for lovers”; structural engineering 212, “Buttress is a funny word”; and meteorology 301, “Clouds y’all, amirite?” She earned all As and scores for college credit before she even graduated high school. None of these challenges were difficult for Amelia. She was the best at everything.

But her life was not perfect. Because of the voices. It was the voices that made life hard for Amelia. From birth, she heard the constant chatter of dozens of people. None of the voices spoke directly to  Amelia, they just talked and talked about their lives, and Amelia was afraid of the voices and what the voices might imply about herself. She found solace in puzzles, crosswords, nonograms, acrostics, cryptics, Sudoku, which I think is the one where you have to catch a bunch of marbles with a lever operated hippopotamus.
Her mother hated Amelia’s puzzle vice. If she caught Amelia doing puzzles, Yvette would make Amelia go practice archery or write poetry or at least listen to classical music. Amelia’s favorite was Van Cliburn’s masterful 1961 record of Rachmaninoff’s “Piano Concerto nr 13: Knuckles on the Black Keys”. When she was thinking through the solution of a puzzle, the voices did not speak to her. All was silent. It was her only time of peace. It was the only time her body could rest and curl up comfortably into her own thoughts. Anything that took her away from her logic problems including music, no matter how soothing, invited the voices back into Amelia’s thoughts.

Amelia was accepted to several top colleges across the country, including MIT, Stanford, Rice and The University of What It Is, but she wanted to stay near her home town and her family, so she went to State. Hey, that’s where my brother-in-law went! Go State! [chuckles] Ahem. She was elected the youngest president of the student body ever at age 17, and graduated valedictorian two years later. Her friends, her professors, her mother all knew the world was Amelia’s. She could become poet laureate or a senator or a supreme court justice or a quantum physicist.
But she became none of those. This is not to say Amelia was not successful or that she amounted to nothing. It is to say, the semantics of success were her own and no one else’s. Amelia became an air traffic controller. The voices never told Amelia to become an air traffic controller, they were never that specific. The voices did not tell her to do anything, they simply talked about first dates, about  apartment hunting, about their grandmothers’ improved health, about a bad movie they sort of loved. None of the voices talked directly to her, it was simply as though she overheard conversations from lives lived somewhere else. Other people and their quotidian hopes and worries and interests. She tried seeing therapists and psychiatrists. She tried medication to stop the voices, but nothing worked. Eventually she decided they were not harmful voices and that she was not dealing with schizophrenia. She simply heard people talking at all hours about all things, having nothing to do with her. And they never told her to become an air traffic controller. Amelia chose her own career, her own path. Others though the reason was that it was the fist job opportunity to present itself for her. Maybe it was her admiration of aircraft, maybe a moral sense of serving humanity through public safety and comfort. In fact, it was none of these reasons.
But it should not be surprising to know that Amelia was very good at air traffic control. She was calm, clear, and efficient. The Night Vale international airport, although when Amelia started it was just a commuter hub, has never had a high volume of plane traffic and almost all of those are departures. There are very few arrivals. My husband Carlos, he’s a scientist and he is also very good at his job, tells me that it’s impossible to have far more departures than arrivals, but I told him, not everything has to make sense all the time.

So, in some ways, air traffic control in Night Vale was easier for Amelia than just about any other class or job or task she’d ever attempted. It appeared from the outside to be far below her capabilities. She held that job for 20 years, even taking over as president of the Night Vale chapter of air traffic controllers’ union. In 2004, she was featured in the cover of “Afformative”, a monthly trade magazine for air traffic controllers. The headline of the article was “You’re cleared for success”.
In 2006, she was asked to deliver the keynote speech at the annual Roger Con, a conventional for air traffic controllers and fans of air traffic control. It’s a huge deal, held every year in Orlando. People dress like their favorite airline pilots and wait in long lines for autographs from top flight attendants. There are even panel discussions about everything from the best textiles for seat cushions to secret first class meal offerings.
Amelia was the best at what she did. She probably would have been the best poet laureate or senator, but this was the path she chose. She chose this path because of the voices, not from what they said, but what they didn’t say. When Amelia was in the control tower, when she was communicating with captains and co-pilots and navigators, her head was clear. All was silent. It was like those many nights, sneaking a copy of the crossword from the newspaper on the kitchenette and solving it by flashlight under her covers. She became an air traffic controller to be by herself, to become her own person.
Her mother was disappointed, but loved her in spite of it. Her professors were let down, but still had many fabulous of their greatest student. Her friends were just happy she was happy.

Things changed on June 15, 2012, when Delta flight 18713 made radio contact. In her tall tower, at her tiny airport, in the middle of a vast desert, in the middle of the American Southwest, an airplane appeared on Amelia’s radar. It was carrying 143 passengers and 6 crew members and was flying from Detroit to Albany over the great lakes of the American Northeast. It appeared briefly, the green dot blinking in and out of existence like the sun glinting off a water ripple. It was almost unnoticeable. But everyone noticed it. Later, Amelia was the only one who admitted to noticing it. The radio transmission was equally brief, a surge of static and only one word, difficult to discern but she heard it.
“Alpha” was the single word. The letter A in the Nato alphabet. It was garbled, so maybe it wasn’t that word, maybe it was some more adult variation of “Oh fudge”.
Alpha. Oh fudge. It was unclear.
Amelia requested identification of the aircraft. She requested further communication, but nothing came. As soon as it had squawked, it had gone silent. But while the radio communication was silent, the voices were not. On June 15, 2012, upon hearing a word that sounded like “alpha”, these myriad conversations returned. No one else in the tower could hear them, but Amelia Anna Alfaro could. And for the first time in her life, she began to speak back to them. Everyone else in the tower could hear that.
The voices did not cease. The voices continued for days and days and Amelia tried to talk back with them. As one voice said: “I have an interview on Monday,” Amelia would ask “for what job” or if a voice said, “We went to Palm Springs on vacation,” Amelia would say, “Did you also travel out to the Salton Sea?” But over and over, no response. The voices did not affect the quality of Amelia’s work, but it did affect the perceived quality of her work, and her colleagues became uncomfortable with and distrusting of Amelia.

A month later, Amelia heard that word again from one of the voices. “Alpha”. The same voice that radioed in June. But upon hearing it again, she realizes that they didn’t say “alpha” at all. What they said, coming up.

But first
The weather.

[“Skinchanger” by Skeptic skepticdeath.bandcamp.com]

The voices said “Alfaro”. The word had been truncated just as the airplane’s appearance in Night Vale had been truncated. The voice saying the word was the captain of the aircraft, and he had been trying to tell Amelia something. The pilot was trying to tell Amelia that he knew her, had always known her since her birth. He didn’t know how he knew her, just that he did, and he wanted to tell her he had found her. And she should find him.
“Where are you,” Amelia asked the captain.
“No Where,” the voice said.
“Did you land?” Amelia asked.
“Yes,” the voice said.
“Were there injuries?” Amelia asked.
“Minor,” the voice said.
“Do you hear the other voices too?” Amelia asked.
“Yes,” the captain said. “I’m with them right now. Find us, Amelia.”
“Where are you?” Amelia asked again, louder, more scared than before.
“No Where,” the voice said, not like the vague concept of in no place but No Where, two words capitalized like the name of a specific place.
Amelia felt a tap on her shoulder. It was another air traffic controller.
“Uh, boss wants to see you, Amelia,” they said. But Amelia did not go to see the boss. She knew. She knew her time in the tower was done. She grabbed her belongings and walked to the elevator, out across the tarmac to a shuttle to a parking lot and into her car, and no one saw her again.
Her friends said she always talked about going back to school to get an advanced degree. Maybe she went to Stanford. Or Rice, or The University of What It Is. Other friends said she had lost all touch with reality, talking to people who were not there, and maybe her mother checked Amelia into the Night Vale asylum.

Yvette says Amelia knew too much, that agents from a vague yet menacing government agency had been to their house and that Amelia must have been taken to a secret location.
Representatives from the National Safety and Transportation Bureau in Washington, DC, came to Night Vale two months ago to investigate the disappearance of flight 18713. They are on an undercover mission inside the Night Vale asylum right now, on a tip from Sheriff Sam, to discover more clues into this mystery.
Perhaps Amelia is in there too. But I don’t think so. I think she went to find the plane. I think the voices were the passengers on Delta 18713. I think she set out looking for them. Perhaps wandering the desert, the great No Where, to find the people who had been a part of her life since birth.

Amelia. Anna. Alfaro. was always the best at everything. And if anyone will find the plane, she will.

Stay tuned next for our new investment advice show “Billionaire Roulette”.

And as always,
Good night, Night Vale,
Good night.

Today’s proverb: Love means never having to say “you’re a werewolf”.