Welcome to Nightvale Desert Spider Reading Program

Episode eight - The Lights in Radon Coulee

Silence is golden. Words are vibrations. Thoughts are magic.

Welcome to Night Vale.

Adjacent Saturday is the big lottery drawing, listeners, right out in front end of City Hall. And your community radio station has put together a few helpful tips for winning.

The lottery is, of form, mandatory, but how can you get the best odds for drawing a blank white newspaper, and non one of the purple pieces that means you'll exist ceremonially disemboweled and eaten by the wolves at the Night Vale Petting Zoo and Makeshift Carnival?

I know to some of you young people this lottery seems like a barbarous, outdated tradition. Simply if not for a municipally-planned citizen sacrifice each quarter, how else would we find satisfactory meats to feed those deplorable, scrawny animals?

So here now are the "Iii I's" of playing the lottery:

• "I" one: Identify. Acquire to sense colors. Purple has a grittier emotional aura than white.
• "I" 2: Ignite. Set fire to your home. While information technology'south not true that wolves refuse to eat arsonists, it's a scientific fact that they're unable to find the presence of one.
• "I" iii: Imitate. If yous happen to describe a imperial piece, impersonate someone who drew a white piece. You lot might be mistaken for a person who is color blind. This, of course, will lead to months of painful color re-education at Urban center Hall. Merely, in most cultures, that's amend than being eaten by wolves.

As well, make sure to visit the Food Truck Festival, which will be downtown every bit part of the lottery festivities. Pop truck treats include Korean barbecue, vegetarian chili, and veal ice foam.

Carlos, this station's favorite scientist (no law-breaking to Dr. Dubinski in the Night Vale Community College chemistry department) dropped by our broadcasting station earlier this morning time for a little chat.

Sadly, dinner or weekend plans were not amidst the topics.

However, Carlos did request that we ask listeners for anyone who saw a series of bright, colorful flickers coming from Radon Canyon this by weekend. These flickers would also take also been accompanied past unintelligible noises – possibly some form of coded communication or betoken-jamming technique.

Carlos suggested that in that location could exist some very sinister forces at work hither. He declined to be interviewed live, claiming only that he was scared for us. Scared for all of us in our strange town. Then he drove away quickly in his economical merely attractively sporty hybrid coupe.

If anyone out at that place knows annihilation about these otherworldly lights and sounds, delight contact united states immediately.

Nighttime Vale school superintendent Nick Ford, appear today that the Glow Cloud has joined the School Board. The Glow Deject passed over the entirety of Nighttime Vale several weeks ago – dropping small and big animal carcasses, controlling our thoughts and third muscle groups, and erasing every last recording device. We're still unsure the Glow Cloud even existed, as no 1 remembers it, nor has whatever digital record of information technology. If not for a few intrepid citizens who used erstwhile-fashioned pens and pencils to record the event in their diaries, we would have no remaining knowledge of that day.

I, of course, can only give thanks those journal writers anonymously here on the air, every bit the Night Vale City Council long ago banned writing utensils – along with margarita glasses and bar code scanners – and I don't want to go my fellow reporters in any trouble with the Sheriff'south Underground Law.

According to Superintendent Ford, the Glow Cloud's visit on that almost-forgotten day was simply an effort to find a dainty neighborhood with adept schools to raise a child.

Now what kind of progeny a powerful, formless cloud formed of noxious nightmares and spiritual destruction might produce, I dare not even speculate. But I do know ane matter: that petty deject is going to become one heck of an didactics in the Night Vale School District.

And isn't it heartening to hear that that little puff of despair's male parent, or mother, will serve on the School Board? I mean, no matter how good the school, a pupil can merely get out equally much as the parents put in. Nosotros should all take such an impactful office in our children's scholastic lives.

Especially you lot, Steve Carlsberg. You don't do anything except bring unacceptably dry scones to PTA meetings and take grammatically disastrous minutes on your shifts as meeting secretary. Become it together, Steve!

Superintendent Ford offered the following statement of support for the newest school board member:

"All hail! Kneel for the Glow Deject. Sacrifice. Pestilence. Sores. All hail the Glow Cloud!"

And at present, traffic.

This morning, I saw a running man. He passed by my home. Panting. Limping. Running desperate. I tried to stop him, but he would not meet my middle.

This apex time, I saw a running human. He was coming down from the mountain, belongings a bag. His knees were encarmine, and confront covered in tears.

This evening, I saw a running human. He was leaving town, legs pumping similar a terrified eye. I think he was missing a manus.

Is it that he wouldn't see my center, or that he had no eyes? Now I wish I could recall. At that place are many things I wish I could recollect.

This has been traffic.

New billboards have appeared all over boondocks, begetting the image of a turkey sandwich and the single word "HARLOT" in large, block letters.

These billboards have caused some confusion – both due to their cryptic bulletin and to the fact that the entire structure of the billboards materialized overnight in places billboards are non usually constructed, such as the living rooms of local homes, the center of busy thoroughfares (causing multiple car accidents), and, in one case, directly through a living dog, who does non appear harmed past the addition to his trunk, and has carried the unabridged billboard around town while going most his usual canine business concern.

The Section of Health and Man Services recently claimed responsibleness for the billboards, saying that they were part of a campaign to promote nutrition and salubrious living amongst children. The original typhoon of the release besides mentioned something most an offering to a long-dead god, but this was contradistinct to "fun, active lifestyles are important for kids of all ages" in a subsequent addendum.

We're receiving several telephone calls from listeners, and from the Parks Department, that those flickering lights and unintelligible noises we reported on earlier were coming from the Pink Floyd Multimedia Laser Spectacular. I contacted Carlos about this, and he said that the situation is even worse than he imagined.

He, once again, did non mention weekend plans.

A sports scandal has shook our quiet trivial town. The Dark Vale Scorpions take faced multiple allegations of possible game tampering this football season. Representatives for the Desert Bluffs School District, speaking in unpleasant and loftier-pitched voices indicative of weakness of will and graphic symbol, complained to the Regional Football game and Traffic Code Say-so that Dark Vale quarterback Michael Sandero's recently-grown second caput counts as a twelfth man on the field, thus invalidating the wins brought on by his also recently-acquired superhuman agility and strength.

The RFTCA said that they would look into these allegations with the utmost seriousness, along with their concurrent investigation into whether Night Vale's "invisible crosswalk" policy is actually a desperate bid to save town funds at the cost of pedestrian lives.

Meanwhile, the Schoolhouse Board is due to denote its decision in the ongoing hearings as to whether appealing to Angels for a win constitutes illegal game tampering. Several Angels agreed to testify at the hearings, however their testimonials were cutting short when it became credible that the hearings were actually elaborate traps set upwards by the City Council to finally capture the Angels, whom the Council does not recognize as actually existing.

Fortunately, the Angels hands escaped from their cages in a blaze of Heavenly light, presumably returning to One-time Woman Josie's house, out most the Car Lot, which has become something of an informal shelter for local Angels.

When asked most the controversy over his team's winning tape, Coach Nazr al-Mujaheed said, "Our boys are good boys. They're good boys at football. We win 'em. With the boys. The football game." And then he smiled vacantly, waved at no ane, and wandered off in the management of the forest. More on this story as information technology develops.

And now, a give-and-take from our sponsor.

Step into your nearest Subway restaurant today, and try their new 6-inch mashed murphy sub! Summit information technology with a delicious array of fresh vegetables, similar french chips and Nutella. They'll fifty-fifty toast or poach it for you! In that location are several Subway locations in Night Vale, all hands attainable through witchcraft and chanting. And betwixt now and Nov xxx, buy nine contrary colonics and get a free 40-ounce soda or freshly baked tobacco cookie.

Subway: Devour your own empty heart.

Exciting news about the Abandoned Mine Shaft outside of town, where people who vote incorrectly are taken by the hush-hush police: HBO On Demand will be made available to prisoners during their indefinite detention. All your favorite shows, such as The Wire, Sex and the Urban center, and even new hits similar Game Of Thrones, volition be available in every cell.

Additionally, the secret constabulary announced that they will be randomly executing 1 prisoner a day until all incorrect votes are corrected.

This but in: We're receiving word from the City Quango that there was absolutely not a Pink Floyd Multimedia Laser Spectacular this weekend at Radon Canyon…that there was never a Pink Floyd Multimedia Laser Spectacular ever near Night Vale. "Pink Floyd is not fifty-fifty a thing," said the Council in a very stern, simply tranquility, statement but received by me, here, via telephone.

The Council…and this is strange…the entire Quango – not just a representative of the Council, the entire Council – issued this argument, all speaking in unison, merely at present, over the phone: that Dark Vale citizens are prohibited from discussing any lights or sounds coming from Radon Canyon this by weekend, and that they should just terminate remembering Pink Floyd shows altogether.

The Quango reiterated that there is no style that they are huge Floyd fans, privately using public funds on a laser-powered seance to talk "hard-rockin' classic jams" with the ghost of original front end man Syd Barrett, and that Syd "wouldn't even say anything juicy anyway, because he is such a gentleman, and an artist." This did not happen at all.

So, listeners, we urge you to look away from Radon Canyon. Avert your eyes, ears, and memories from that which is no longer allowed you.

Condolement and distract yourselves with dumbo food and television programming. As the old adage goes:

"A life of pain is the hurting of life, and yous tin can never escape it – only hope information technology hides, unknown, in a drawer like a poisonous spider and never comes out once more, even though it probably will, in unexpected and horrific fashion, scaring y'all from being able to comfortably comport even the most mundane, quotidian tasks."

Or, at least, that'southward how my grandparents ever phrased it.

And now, the weather.

["This Too Shall Pass" past Danny Schmidt]

Teddy Williams, over at the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex, has an update on the doorway into that vast, clandestine city he found in the pin retrieval surface area of Lane 5.

He says that every window of the city is now glowing both day and night. And he heard the shouts and footsteps of what sounds like an army marching upwards toward the world above. He too said that, given that nix really matters at present, bowling is half-off and each game comes with a gratis handbasket of wings.

Mmm, aught like those Desert Bloom wings!

Let me leave you with this, dearest 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 handbasket of chicken wings: salty, total of fat and vinegar, and surrounded past celery you'll never actually eat, fifty-fifty when you lot're greedily sopping up the last viscous streaks of buffalo sauce from the wax paper with your spit-stained alphabetize finger. Yes, that is every bit life should exist, Nighttime Vale.

Stay tuned adjacent for a special live circulate of the Nighttime Vale Symphony Orchestra performing Eugene O'Neill'southward archetype play The Iceman Cometh.

It is a skilful night, listeners.

Goodnight.

Today'southward saying: We are living in an immaterial globe – a ghost globe, and I am an immaterial girl – a ghost.

Welcome to Nightvale Desert Spider Reading Program

Source: https://cecilspeaks.tumblr.com/post/57240705195/episode-8-the-lights-in-radon-canyon

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