4.6 – PTA Meeting

City Council has asked me to read the following message.

If you notice strange auras around any of the following objects in your house: blender, showerhead, dog, husband, wife, table, chair, doorknob, baseboard, vacation souvenirs or photos, collectibles of any kind, especially those depicting or involving horses, DVDs, especially Cliffhanger, There’s Something About Mary, and The Wire 4th Season, and any bagged lettuce from California or Mexico… please, report to the Council for indefinite detention.

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5.3 – The Shape In Grove Park

The Night Vale Green Market Co-op announced today that after 15 years, they will begin selling fruits and vegetables. Green Market board president Tristan Cortez said that recent customer surveys indicated that shoppers have grown tired of empty pickup trucks and vacant tents lining the City Hall parking lot every Sunday morning in the summer and fall. Cortez said that research indicates consumers are more likely to buy products if they are available and for sale, and that Green Market and grocery shoppers tend to purchase food items.

Cortez said that the decision to sell food at the Green Market was a controversial one, as many board members and co-op shareholders feel fruit and vegetable sales will interfere with their ongoing secretive domestic espionage operations. When reached for comment, our source with the Secret Police only breathed heavily into the phone while tapping an as yet uncracked code into the receiver.

8.2 – The Lights In Radon Canyon

Next Saturday is the big lottery drawing, listeners, right out in front of City Hall, and your community radio station has put together a few helpful tips for winning. The lottery is, of course, mandatory, but how can you get the best odds for drawing a blank white paper, and not one of the purple pieces that means you’ll be ceremoniously disemboweled, and eaten by the wolves at the Night Vale Petting Zoo & Makeshift Carnival?

I know to some of you young people, this lottery seems like a barbarous, outdated tradition, but if not for municipally planned citizen sacrifice each quarter, how else would we find satisfactory meats to feed those sad, scrawny animals? So here now are the three “I”s of playing the lottery.

I one: Identify. Learn to sense colors. Purple has a grittier emotional aura than white.

I two: Ignite. Set fire to your home. While it’s not true that wolves refuse to eat arsonists, it’s a scientific fact that they’re unable to detect the presence of one.

I three: Imitate. If you happen to draw a purple piece, impersonate someone who drew a white piece. You might be mistaken for a person who is color-blind. This, of course, will lead to months of painful color re-education at City Hall. But in most cultures, that’s better than being eaten by wolves.

Also, make sure to visit the food truck festival, which will be downtown as part of the lottery festivities. Popular truck treats include Korean barbecue, vegetarian chili, and veal ice cream.

8.9 – The Lights In Radon Canyon

And now, a word from our sponsor.

Step into your nearest Subway restaurant today, and try their new 6-inch mashed potato sub. Top it with a delicious assortment of fresh vegetables, like french fries and Nutella. They’ll even toast or poach it for you.

There are several Subway locations in Night Vale, all easily accessible through witchcraft and chanting. And between now and November 30, buy nine reverse colonics, and get a free 40-ounce soda or freshly baked tobacco cookie.

Subway: Devour Your Own Empty Heart.

8.12 – The Lights In Radon Canyon

Teddy Williams, over at the Desert Flower Bowling Alley & Arcade Fun Complex, has an update on the doorway into that vast underground city he found in the pin retrieval area of lane five. He says that every window of the city is now glowing both day and night, and he heard the shouts and footsteps of what sounded like an army marching upwards toward the world above. He also said that given that nothing really matters now, bowling is half off and each game comes with a free basket of wings.

Mm, nothing like those Desert Flower wings.

Let me leave you with this, dear listeners. We lead frantic lives, filled with needs and responsibilities, but completely devoid of any actual purpose. I say, let’s try to enjoy the simple things. Life should be like a basket of chicken wings: salty, full of fat and vinegar, and surrounded by celery you’ll never actually eat, even when you’re greedily sopping up the last viscous streaks of buffalo sauce from the wax paper with your spit-stained index finger. Yes… that is as life should be, Night Vale.

Stay tuned for a special live broadcast of the Night Vale Symphony Orchestra performing Eugene O’Neill’s classic play The Iceman Cometh. It is a good night, listeners. Good night.

11.2 – Wheat & Wheat By-Products

Representatives from the greater medical insurance community announced this week that major insurance providers would no longer cover government-disseminated illnesses.

These ailments were created to control undesirable populations, and include: AIDS, most cancers, irritable bowel syndrome, telekinesis, tingling, and any kind of food allergy.

Doctors advised that the best way to avoid acquiring any of these conditions is to limit questionable public activities, try not to be in a lower economic class, and give regularly to an approved religious organization.

Take these precautions and you should live a healthy, or at least medically insured, life.

In other health news, the Night Vale Council for Commerce reminds you to regularly consume wheat and wheat by-products.

By doing so, you are directly supporting the local Night Vale farmer, as well as the local Night Vale commodities conglomerates.

Looking for a snack? Try wheat or a wheat by-product.

Dinner? Wheat and/or its by-products.

Trying to patch a leaky roof? We have just the thing for you, and we also have its by-products.

Wheat and wheat by-products: by Americans, for Americans, in Americans, watching Americans.

11.6 – Wheat & Wheat By-Products

An update on our previous message about wheat and wheat by-products.

You should not eat wheat or wheat by-products, say several frantic scientists waving clipboards in our studio.

As it turns out, all wheat and wheat by-products for unknown reasons have turned into venomous snakes, which are crawling all over our small city, causing even more chaos than is normal.

These snakes have been described as ‘terrifying, loathsome, and probably from the bowels of hell itself.’ Also, ‘green, and three feet long.’

If you have any wheat or wheat by-products in your home, you are almost certainly already dead.

Sorry about that.

11.7 – Wheat & Wheat By-Products

Property taxes are going up again, Night Vale. Several citizens are justifiably upset by this latest increase, but municipal services do, after all, cost money.

Schools, public transportation, parks and recreation facilities, and of course, the multi-billion dollar Pulsar Development Facility. Speaking of which, scientists say they are on the verge of developing the first ever human-made neutron star.

Usually the aftermath of a supernova, this pulsar would be roughly four miles in diameter, but with a nearly incomprehensible density that makes it about half the mass of our own sun.

And to think, this rapidly rotating sphere of radioactive matter will be right here under the sands of Night Vale, producing enough energy to power the Earth for billions of years!

The city of Night Vale plans to use the pulsar to light the high school football stadium, which still uses whale oil lamps.

John Peters, you know, the farmer, is particularly upset. Not only about the pulsar development, but also about the higher taxes.

As owner of more than a hundred and fifty acres, John will certainly have to pay a large share, and given that John is a peach farmer in the desert, he hasn’t actually raised a successful crop, ever.

His only income is his half a million dollar annual subsidy for imaginary corn, which has been one of Night Vale’s greatest exports. People come from all over, even Desert Bluffs, unfortunately, to buy his imaginary corn.

I like to butter up a piece of bread and then rub the imaginary corn along it, and then sprinkle it with a little bit of salt and cayenne. Boy, is that a delicious and low-carcinogen summer treat!

But even our town heroes like John Peters, you know, the farmer, have to pay their fair share. No citizen is above paying taxes.

Well… except Marcus Vanston, but that’s understandable because he’s so wealthy.

When you’re worth as much as Marcus Vanston, you have proved your value to society through hard work and determination, and are no longer required to show anyone any further proof that you care about anything or anybody else, because you obviously do– look at all your money!

According to some, Marcus is worth over five billion dollars, and that’s five billion reasons Marcus is our town’s greatest citizen.

11.8 – Wheat & Wheat By-Products

Further updates on wheat and wheat by-products. The good news is that they are no longer poisonous serpents.

The bad news is that they have transformed into a particularly evil and destructive form of spirit. Please be aware that wheat and wheat by-products are now malevolent and violent supernatural forces capable of physically moving objects up to 200 pounds, and entering human souls of up to soul-strength four.

The frantic scientists, who are now hopping up and down just outside my recording booth, indicating various charts and figures, recommend creating a simple lean-to out of animal bones and mud– such as you might have made and played in as a child– and hiding there until the spiritual forces of wheat and wheat by-products have passed.

13.5 – A Story About You

You decide, instead, to go to the Moonlite All-Nite Diner, and have a slice of pie.  The wind is hot, like always, and smells like honey and mud. Night is your favorite time.  Daylight brings only a chain of visual sensations, none of which cohere into meaning for you anymore.  Life has become out of focus, free of consequence.  

As you drive, you turn off the headlights for a moment.  At that moment, you feel again, above you, not even far away now, that planet of awesome size, lit by no sun.  An invisible titan, all thick black forests and jagged mountains and deep, turbulent oceans.  You see nothing but the faint moonlight on your dashboard, but you know the planet is out there, yawning in the unseen spaces.

The moment passes.  You turn your headlights back on, and all you see is a road.  Just asphalt!  Just that.  And you pass a man waving semaphore flags, indicating that the speed limit for this stretch is forty-five.

The Moonlite All-Nite Diner is radiant green, a slab of mint light in the warm darkness.  You squint when you see it, like it hurts your eyes, but it does not hurt your eyes.  You park near the front door.  A man rolls by on the ground, his eyes bleary and sightless, whispering the word ‘mudwomb’ over and over.  But you don’t have the money to tip him, so you go inside.  You order a slice of strawberry pie, and the waitress indicates through words and movements that it will be brought to you presently.  The radio speaks soothingly to you from staticky speakers set into a foam-tile ceiling.  It is telling a story about you. Your story, at last.