67 - [Best Of?]

Did you know that Nightfall is not just a podcast, it's also books?

That's right.

It's like movies for your ears, but in written word form.

We have four script collections that are fully illustrated with behind-the-scenes intros for every single episode.

And then we have three novels.

The first Welcome to Nightfall novel, in which two women have their lives turned upside down by a mysterious man in a tan jacket.

We reveal the origin of that, the man man in the tan jacket in that one.

Then the New York Times best-selling thriller, It Devours, in which we really try to get to the bottom of a certain smiling god.

Finally, my favorite, The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Your Home.

Part Pirate Adventure, Part Haunted House, all Faceless Old Woman.

Find the three novels and four script books wherever you get books.

Okay,

enjoy this episode of a podcast.

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The sun is actually cold.

It's cold and empty and all is lost.

Greetings from Night Vale.

While your regular host Cecil Palmer is on vacation, we continue to bring you some of the highlights of his uncountable years here at Knightville Community Radio.

From lowly but eager intern filing reports from the field to his tenure behind the desk at the greatest community radio station in America.

Today, I thought we'd start with a very special and rare clip: Cecil's first ever broadcast on our airways.

Let's listen.

Hi, it's Cecil.

Oh boy.

Um, oh, oh, I'm sorry.

Uh, let me try that again, and it'll be way more professional.

Hello, listeners, intern Cecil Palmer here, reporting live for host Leonard Burton.

I'm way excited.

I am standing in a vast stretch of desert in which no one has lived for hundreds of years.

Neat, right?

But it's not even the neatest, because some new folks have moved into the area area recently.

They look like they're from back east aways.

This isn't their land, but they're going to set up here anyway.

They're saying, this is ours, and pointing, ludicrously, at actual Earth, as though that were an ownable thing.

One of the arrivals, famous screen actor Lee Marvin, who just turned 30 today, oh, hey, happy birthday, Mr.

Marvin, said that they were immediately proceeding to found a town, a town they will call Night Vale, a home for themselves, complete with all the things a home needs.

Secrets, dread, omnipresent government, and areas that are forbidden.

He then donned a soft meat crown as the other newcomers bowed to him.

And now, the community calendar.

Monday through Sunday,

this will be a barren stretch of desert, strewn strewn with human debris shot out by a population explosion back east.

These shiftless fellows will mope around and complain about the heat and lack of water.

The shadows up on the hills will watch and watch but will come no closer.

Squinting, the newcomers will see the shadows in the hills, and then they will squint further and further until their eyes are closed.

and then they will hum until their minds are empty, and sit dreaming until their dreams are clean, and they will never look at the hills again.

They will cease to believe in hills at all.

Elevation will become a laughable thing, the sky a starry stranger, the ground a barren friend.

The cliff dwellings are empty now, but their scattered children are manifest and filled with love and mirth and grief.

This has been the community calendar.

All right, back to you, Leonard.

Mr.

Burton, sir.

Thanks for giving me this opportunity.

What fantastic old days those were.

Everything old is wonderful.

It's a shame anything had to change.

I sure do dislike change.

The sun has moved in the sky, and I distrust it completely.

Here's another story Cecil reported as station intern.

This is one of my favorites, a real turning point for our town.

And for America, and for the world, but also quite unfortunately for the Outer Galaxy Warlords who wish to prolong the senseless blood space war.

Intern Cecil here, on the scene.

All I see is devastation.

Devastation that once was mere existence.

People and buildings reduced to holes in space and time.

Gaps both concrete and metaphorical.

Losses that would be overwhelming if everything didn't already proceed in a state of pre-loss.

each thing defined in its existence by the nothing that will come after.

Devastation and ruins.

Streamers and balloons.

So a happy big 3-0 to immortal screen legend Lee Marvin, who is celebrating his special day by opening his seventh eye and incinerating onlookers by the wailing hundreds with his holy light.

Happy birthday, Mr.

Marvin.

And now, the Children's Fun Fact Science Corner.

I recently took a fantastic trip to Europe.

I don't have time right now, but one of these days I'll tell all of you listeners out there some of the funny stories from my European vacation.

In the meantime, we're here about science, right?

And from whom better to learn about science than a scientist, right?

Well, on my trip, I met a very smart and

very handsome scientist.

His name is Guillermo Marconi.

He showed me all sorts of things, all sorts of things.

All sorts.

But he also showed me a new device he's working on called, get this,

radio.

As unlikely as it seems, Marconi thinks that soon, shows just like this will be carried by invisible waves right to your ears.

He showed me the blueprints for his invention full of strange words like receiver and transmitter and community radio and three commercial-free hours of alternative music that are all part of how this strange new mechanism will function.

Who knows?

Maybe one day I will see one of these radios for myself.

Wow, even the word sounds goofy.

This has been the Children's Fun Fact Science Corner.

Let's talk again about the good old days.

Remember the 1930s?

Or the sparklingly clean 30s, as we once called them?

When America was flush with cash

and people literally could not, would not stop dancing with their hips and wearing sequin fringe.

It's a great time to roll up $100 bills and fill them with shredded up $20 bills and smoke them like cigars.

just great i truly wish for stasis

intern

still intern cecil here big thanks as always to our host leonard burton in the booth as he has been for what seems like a really long time oh not saying that it is a long time uh who knows what a long time is even

not me but it just seems that way that that's all

It's New Year's Eve, 1934,

and here in Nightvale, as in towns all over this great country, we are celebrating with large swimming pools full of champagne.

This is both fun and also practical, since we have way more champagne than we can drink or even safely store without the towering stacks of champagne crates threatening to tumble down onto our fragile bodies.

So, what better way of honoring the season than just dumping a ton of this stuff into a swimming pool and splashing around in it?

Turns out, it's not great for swimming in.

What with the alcohol content and acidity?

But it's okay because we have pool floats made from compacted caviar.

Everyone is here and everyone is having a blast.

Even little Josie Ortiz, young as she is, is getting in on the act, entertaining swimmers with simple magic tricks and minor prophecies.

This is the best party Nightvale has had since last week's big blowout in honor of Lee Marvin's 30th birthday.

As I look out over the lush grassland and the verdant trees sagging with tropical fruit, an area that just a few years ago was flat, empty, desert forever, I feel the warmth inside.

That American warmth that gives me great certainty.

It will be this way from now to always.

From now on, peace.

From now on, prosperity.

From now on, champagne swimming pools every New Year's.

America is taking flight and hard-working people are its wings.

Back to you as always, Leonard.

Always.

I genuinely can't remember a time you didn't have that job.

Of course, just a few years later, the trees and grassland were gone, the second war had hit Europe, and all of Night Vale came together to make explosives and devices to launch explosives.

Nothing shows the beautiful perfection of human community like intercontinental weaponized combat.

It was a better time then.

This was also Cecil's first ever broadcast as the full-time host of this show:

cry havoc and let slip the hounds of war.

Weep havoc.

Squeeze grief like coal to diamonds until it slides, crystalline and compact, down your reddened cheeks and let slip those ugly, useless hounds to do their ugly, useless work.

Welcome to Night Vale.

Hello, listeners.

Here I am,

as I thought I might never be, behind the studio microphone at Night Vale Community Radio.

Yes, top news tonight is that our beloved Leonard Burton has retired in order to spend more time trying to understand what a family is.

And so I will, from now forward, take over as the voice of our little community.

This is a proud day for me and a proud day I'm sure for my mother who has been hiding from me for decades now but whose absence in many ways speaks to me more than words could.

With the big news out of the way, we go back to the usual day today.

There is, of course, a war in Europe and the Pacific and all around the world.

We ourselves have been attacked.

Or not we,

Nightvale is still fine, but people who share our same broad category.

Somewhere, they've been attacked.

And that will not stand.

Nightvale is, of course, very tricky to leave, so no one has actually joined the army or anything, but we are doing our part for America by buying war bonds, growing victory gardens, and chanting in Bloodstone circles.

Leading experts say that it is the indomitable American spirit, the fighting prowess of our soldiers in the field, and mostly, chanting in Bloodstone circles that will win this war.

Like those famous Rosie the Riveter posters all over town say, Get chanting in Bloodstone Circles double time, or me and the rest of the riveters will come at you with rivet guns.

You ever have someone come at you with a rivet gun?

Well, bud, you don't want that.

Trust me.

Inspiring words in difficult times.

But when the turbulent events of the past few years have you down, just remember your friend Cecil, behind the mic and talking you through it from this day forward.

Huh.

While that clip was playing, I found a few Fidelipec cartridges.

They look pretty old.

I don't remember pulling these for today's best of show.

Let's see what the first one is.

It's marked the end.

Question mark.

Neolgorsk, our Russian sister city,

is gone.

The people of Neolgorsk, our friends,

they are gone too.

Since then the sky has been hot with death.

So much fuel for so many rockets burning away at once.

It makes the fall air seem a little warmer, even down here.

Not to mention that final sizzle at the end of each.

Blooms of death all over the world.

Hot and final.

I speak to you for as long as I can from a world ending.

1983.

Our final year.

I I suppose as good a year as any.

Josie Ortiz, once young, now middle-aged, will never go on to be the old woman she could have become.

Lee Marvin, famed screen actor, will die having just turned 30, never to see another year pass.

And I?

I will go too.

Amidst a screaming of sirens that warn without helping, that make a show of protecting without protecting at all.

I will never meet that

someone.

That someone who could have given my life depth and meaning, who could have been my other.

I will only ever sit here, only have ever sat here behind this microphone until I am not ever, ever

again.

good night from a world-ending nightfare by all accounts this is looking to be a good year

at least as good as 1983 has been Josie Ortiz would like me to remind everyone that this Thursday she is holding a benefit for the old opera house It will be a lavish evening with everything you would expect from a fancy night out like a salad bar.

Tickets are $100 and are not for sale to the likes of you.

In other news, Simone Rigidot, professor of Earth Sciences at the Night Vale Community College, says that her reality has split, that she is experiencing another history happening now, a history in which all of this ends.

She is shutting down the Earth Sciences program in order to devote herself fully to understanding what has happened to her shattered mind and this ended, but yet also not ended, world.

Well, best of luck in your new career, Simone.

Oh yes, those were glorious days.

These days, the world seems to never be ending for some and not others.

The world is a worse place now than it ever was before.

but far better than it ever will be again.

The past is always better than the present.

and the future is the worst of all.

This next cartridge is marked Weather.

Let's see what's on it.

When can I say that I love you?

When can I say that you're mine?

When can I say that I miss the way

our fingers intertwine?

When can I say that I miss you

and want you here by my side?

When can I say that I love you

and have it not be a lie?

When can I call you my sweetheart

and have it not sound contrived

that every moment I say it

the love shines in my eyes.

I want to say you're my someone

until my face turns to blue.

When can I say that I love you

and have it not sound untrue

with each emotion I ponder

each time that I think of you

with every beat that my heart skips

I hope you feel the same too

I hope that someday you'll hear this

and the stars will arise

so I can say that I love you

And I can say that you're mine

Hey, it's Jeffrey Kraner with a word from our sponsor.

You're on a desert island, but not a deserted island.

Someone else is there.

Something else is there.

In the water, surrounding you, lurks a mythical beast with two large eyes and many long arms.

You're just now hearing of this beast, but you're not afraid because you don't plan to swim.

Though that water looks nice, you're good at talking yourself into things, and soon you are in the sea, frolicking and splashing.

You even squeal, thinking you're all alone.

But you forgot what I just said.

You're not alone.

Something wraps itself around you.

It lifts you high in the air, waving you about at dizzying heights.

You look down and see the mythical kraken.

You start to scream, but in its other tentacles are bottles of kraken black spiced rum and kraken gold spiced rum.

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You hi-five the beast as it sets you back down on the island, along with the bottles of kraken rum.

It winks and tells you kraken rum is ideal for Halloween cocktails and disappears back into the dark, briny depths.

Visit the official sponsor of Welcome to Night Vale, Kraken Rum.com to release the Kraken this Halloween.

Copyright twenty twenty five Kraken Rum Company, Kraken Rum.com.

Like the deepest sea, the Kraken should be treated with great respect and responsibility.

You chose to hit play on this podcast today.

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And I have one last clip here.

There's a piece of duct tape on the plastic casing upon which someone has written a thick, shaky no.

So let's play that.

Listeners, oh, listeners, I

come to you with sad news.

I think you know the news.

I think we all saw what happened.

To the family and friends of former Night Vale Community Radio host Leonard Burton, I extend my deepest sympathies.

Not that my sympathies will do you any good.

For what Leonard experienced is something that no human, no sentient being should ever have to experience.

The blood,

those stains on the broken asphalt, the skin, or I think that was skin, but then all those bits that were clearly not skin, of course, and then all the more blood, of course,

and then the wretched sound of the pulling and the single awful snap.

We will all remember the sound of the snap forever.

There is more, but I cannot.

There is more, but I won't.

And the fingernails.

Of course.

Of course, the fingernails.

I mourn Leonard Burton with all my heart.

and my liver and kidneys, with the bones of my toes and with my belly button.

I mourn him with my armpit and neck sweat.

Every part of me, every facet, the physical of me,

I mourn him with these.

Leonard gave me my start.

He took a chance on me.

He gave me the life I have, and now

he doesn't have life.

It is an equation with a miswritten number.

Nothing can be solved.

It is an error.

The city council warned that the mess left from Leonard Burton's death is likely to draw street cleaners and that we should all take shelter.

Cover your mirrors.

Shade your eyes.

Stay indoors and mourn.

Stay indoors

and mourn.

Leonard's death and my

barely contained grief have been brought to you today by Shasta Cola.

Shasta Cola?

Same great taste?

Low, low price.

And now, moving forward as best we can to political news.

Of course, the focus now is on the big debate about President Clinton.

Who is he?

What's a president?

How did this strange news from the outside world reach our little desert hamlet?

For that, let's bring in senior political analyst Lee Marvin, who.

Oh,

look what day it is.

This is your 30th birthday.

I, uh,

listeners,

have you ever forgotten where you put your keys?

You were certain they were on the mantle, but they were not.

Have you ever missed an appointment because you were sure it was on Wednesday at noon, not Tuesday at 10?

Have you ever remembered a life you did not lead?

Has a carefully collated series of words ever made you uncertain,

unconfident, or un, just un, un as an adjective unto itself?

I do not remember that story at all.

I do not like that story.

That is a bad story.

It was a better day earlier,

back when I hadn't heard that story.

This present, this now is no good.

No good at all.

Stay tuned next for less of the best and more of the same.

It's been a pleasure to fill in this week in my old job, Night Vale.

Cecil will be back soon.

Until then, this has been Leonard Burton.

And as always, see you, Nightvale.

See ya.

Welcome to Night Vale is a production of commonplace books.

It is written by Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Craner and produced today by Disparition.

The voice of Night Vale is Cecil Baldwin.

The voice of Leonard Burton was James Zerbaniak.

Original music by Disparition.

All of it can be found at disparition.info or at disparition.bandcamp.com.

This episode's weather was When Can I Say That I Love You by Kyle Fleming.

Find out more at soundcloud.com/slash Kyle dash Fleming dash seven.

Comments, questions, email us at info at welcometonightvale.com or follow us on Twitter at nightvale radio.

Check out welcometonightfail.com for more information on this show as well as all sorts of cool nightfail stuff you can own.

And while you're there, consider clicking the donate link.

That'd be cool of you.

Today's proverb, I'm all business, I say, peeling off my skin strip by strip, showing you what oozes out, business to my core.

Bundle and safe with Expedia.

You were made to follow your favorite band and from the front row, we were made to quietly save you more.

Expedia, made to travel.

Savings vary and subject to availability, flight inclusive packages are adult protected.

I'm Amy Nicholson, the film critic for the LA Times.

And I'm Paul Scheer, an actor, writer, and director.

You might know me from the League Veep or my non-eligible for Academy Award role in Twisters.

We love movies and we come at them from different perspectives.

Yeah, like Amy thinks that, you know, Joe Pesci was miscast in Goodfellas, and I don't.

He's too old.

Let's not forget that Paul thinks that Dune 2 is overrated.

It is.

Anyway, despite this, we come together to host Unschooled, a podcast where we talk about good movies, critical hits, fan favorites, must-sees, and in case you missed them.

We're talking Parasite the Home Alone.

From Greece to the Dark Knight.

We've done deep dives on popcorn flicks.

We've talked about why Independence Day deserves a second look.

And we've talked about horror movies, some that you've never even heard of, like Kanja and Hess.

So if you love movies like we do, come along on our cinematic adventure.

Listen to Unspooled wherever you get your podcast.

And don't forget to hit the follow button.

Hi, we're Meg Bashwiner.

And Joseph Fink of Welcome to Night Vale.

And on our new show, The Best Worst, we explore the golden age of television.

To do that, we're watching the IMDb viewer-rated best and worst episodes of classic TV shows.

The episode of Star Trek, where Beverly Crusher has sex with a ghost, the episode of The X-Files, where Scully gets attacked by a vicious house cat, and also the really good episodes, too.

What can we learn from the best and worst of great television?

Like, for example, is it really a bad episode, or do people just hate women?

The best worst available wherever you get your podcasts.