Episode 81: Good Morning…. Home?

So this might get to be a complicated episode. 

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But I’m going to try to keep a narrative line through it all. But it has to be this way, because well, (breathe) my relationship with this thing is as layered as the thing itself technically is. And of course that creates complications. Not just because this is me, your good old friend M down at Miscellany Media Studios, but because this podcast, by its nature is both complicated and not. Which makes it further complicated in the same way that any good paradox is a bit confusing. 

Oh and whether I meant this one you’re listening to or the one I’m going to be talking about. Who knows, that’s part of the fun. 

But the core of it, today I want to talk about a podcast where a small group of people get together to talk about another thing they like, in this case another podcast. And while the banter is great and the hosts are likeable people, there’s actually more complicated than that. The subject of this show or that other podcast, is one I have a special relationship with, which then--quite obviously--influences my relationship with the show I actually wanted to talk about today. And taking out one thing is going to, potentially, wreck the whole structure. So I’ll have to leave a lot of these details in whether or not they feel relevant. Hopefully you don’t mind.

But the skip button does exist if you do.

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Hi. It’s M. Welcome to Episode 81.

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To fully start this story, I need to go back to the beginning of my podcast journey. Back to before I ever even considered making my own podcast and to the point when I first learned about the concept itself. And it might be a familiar story. In part, because I’ve probably told it before, and also, because it’s not an uncommon one, is it?

Podcasting as a phenomenon has had an odd and unexpected rise. It’s not a medium that promises immediate profitability, particularly in the beginning of its whole saga when it got its first step up potentially but likely only because Apple needed to protect a different trademark and just went with the path of least resistance and attorney’s fees, incorporating podcasting into its iTunes store to protect the identity of the iPod.

All of that created an opportunity to independent creators to create but had no motivation to filter out who did and did not do so.

So something like Welcome to Night Vale was able to exist. Partially because no one had to approve a fictional radio show punctuated by one man pining for another with perfect hair. And then there’s the conspiracies and the sense of humor that would easily resonate with those who came of age or spent a significant part of their formative years in the post-9/11 world. 

None of that is inherently bad, but it is pushing some boundaries And when you want something that can return an immediate investment, you aren’t going to push boundaries in the same way Night Vale does. And honestly but unfortunately, that’s the priority of a lot of people who make media nowadays. 

All of that I’ve said before, I know. I know. But what I should be saying, probably, is the Welcome to Night Vale was not the only podcast to rise out in this creative vacuum that money left untouched. But in an algorithm-free space, your experience is even more heavily influenced by those in your social circle who--in effect--have gone before you.

For me, there weren’t many who had with one glaring exception. In my case, it was my college roommate who introduced me to podcasting through Welcome to Night Vale while knitting. Yes, knitting. She’s a soul of many talents, you see And while I’m sure that some people can knit with headphones in or would even rather to do it like that, she was not one of them. (Music fades out and new music fades in) And with my permission, had Welcome to Night Vale playing off of her laptop while she made a scarf for a present to someone.

I remember that distinctly because the scarf turned out to be for me, and while I still try to use that scarf, it’s approaching its naturally end after years of use. 

But my love of the podcast that--for a while--was the background of my life while she was working on that gift has… Well, it’s still there, but it has grown into a love for the medium and all its capabilities as a whole. It has evolved into a ravenous hunger for more audio-based, unconventional, creative, if not outright bizarre content. And if you are listening to this episode, you might also be in that boat. You might share that opinion. But we weren’t connected back then. In fact, we still aren’t all that connected now, but we can easily pretend.

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There’s something about Welcome to Night Vale--or Night Vale as an entity--that strikes the imagination and engages it in the sort of dialogue that can’t easily be ignored. In a couple of ways, I have always thought. 

I mentioned that despite all the real life conspiracies and government corruption in Night Vale, there’s still something utopian about it. Because there is still a sense of community within that community. Members haven’t turned on each other for superficial reasons. We might have our disputes, sure, but it’s not the same general dismissal that you see in the world outside of the desert community.

For those who have felt ostracized even by their own immediate family, for their sexuality or gender identity as examples that are readily apparent, there’s something appealing about Night Vale because it stands the sort of home you did not get to experience, that you were deprived of in the place that could have been home. For all that community’s faults and reasons to not feel safe, like the librarians for example, you can still feel as if you have a place to belong, entirely as you are. No questions asked. 

On the other hand, this embrace of the absurd but still very real and possible conspiracies in a humorous way calls attention to the anxieties that maybe a lot of us have, in a way that is not so threatening or imposing. Take the constant surveillance in Night Vale or even being told how to speak into the mics that are hidden in your lamps. All of that comes at you like it’s nothing. And by some measures, it is nothing all that new. It’s an increasing part of our lives as security becomes the dominant virtue of a civilized nation. Or so they say, seemingly without any thought to the consequences. 

Or, on the other hand, there’s that continued denial of things that we as listeners can tell are real in Night Vale, like angels. Citizens of Night Vale are being made to question their very reality, and that is no small ask, but it is one that is sometimes made of us in the real world.

All of that does make you comfortable in the abstract, but the ability to laugh and dissect what could otherwise scare us, as we see in Welcome to Night Vale, can be therapeutic. It’s a diffusion of the tension and strips these things of some of their power over us, even if the consequences of those things might still be there, in ways we don’t fully understand. 

It comes down to the simple fact that narrative engagement is empowering. But of course, stories are always better with your peers. Or with an audience. Be their familiar to you or strangers. You just can’t take them in by yourself. 

And fandom is pretty great for that. 

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Fandom, in all forms and for all problems, strikes at this in some regard. It can be hard to understand or explain but also it seems inevitable. In many regards, and this is an argument that needs to be made more substantially elsewhere, but I do think that fandom can be a more healthy outlet for a tribalism impulse. I.e., I want to connect to other people and doing so around common traits or shared likes is doing it with a sort of training wheels on. It means the responsibility of maintaining that connection isn’t only on you or this other person but also on this shared thing that accomplishes its purpose by the mere fact of its existence. I don’t need about giving you reasons to like me or talk to me when I can always defer to this thing we have in common and discuss it. And in most iterations of fandom culture, nobody gets hurt by that tribalism.

For Night Vale or the Night Vale fandom, these makeshift citizens have found their connections, right? They have something despite being spread all around the world. Predominantly in live shows and online spaces, but when I first found Welcome to Night Vale I did not really know how to navigate those spaces or had access to them.

I had been a child kept off of the social media by time constraints not so much overbearing parents, which wasn’t exactly a thing in my household. But overbearing parents can be worked around if you’re careful, but time constraints, not so much. They are a more real barrier because you can’t really create hours to add into your day. And in college when I actually started listening to Welcome to Night Vale, I was in a super small town. A lot of universities are, for a variety of reasons that need to be discussed elsewhere. But whether or not you agree with those reasons or that phenomenon, assuming you know about that, there are consequences to that placement. Some, more serious than others, but one of them, oddly enough, is that students should not expect any of the touring shows theywant to see at a theatre near them

I mean, our college had a good theatre, the sort of theatre that was well known in certain circles. But at the time, those circles did not include podcasters. In fact, I’m pretty sure they still don’t.

So I was left alone, wanting to pick up this fiction and its lore and better understand and dissect Night Vale for all that it was, but that’s not the sort of thing I could have done on my own. And my roommate loved Night Vale but not in the same, need to be knee-deep in it way. For her, it was the equivalent of an acquaintance; it makes for good conversation and good company in the background of her life, whereas I wanted Night Vale to be a more sustained part of my actual life.

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First world problem of the highest order, you would say, and rightfully so. I know this is not some grand tragedy, just a lingering annoyance. I still wanted to get deeper into this world, but I also had an increasing number of shows that I loved listening too. And those were shows I could turn my friends and family onto or going deeper into the internet where the fan communities were. So I had my outlets for these other loves but never my first love, and I never quite got over it. 

But I did try. I went to a live show when I was in graduate school in a big city, and I tried the online fandom life. But I’m too shy to make friends at an unfamiliar theatre, and daily life makes even having a podcaster twitter presence next to impossible for me to maintain. And I kind of need to do that. 

Luckily for me not being in Night Vale doesn’t matter in any meaningful way, I guess. Or else I would be painfully disappointed or maybe in physical pain. There are definitely things worse than this is what I’m saying. I’m not mistaken about that. But then when Good Morning Night Vale came along, I just got to be excited. Happy. Eager to engage the thing. And now I finally going to get to tell you what that thing is.

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This thing is the official Welcome to Night Vale recap show: where three voice actors involved in the production go back to the beginning and talk about their memories of each episode or where they were at that time in their lives, fan theories, fun observations, and the like. And I love that show I really do. And there are two, somewhat deceptively simple reasons that I love it so much.

The obvious one is one that you are expecting. It would be that this is an outlet for what I have always wanted to do. I have always wanted to dive deeper into the Night Vale world or lore or fun facts, which is the entirety of this other podcast. And--as an audience member--I get to do it with people who are genuinely fun and enjoyable to listen to. In fact, listening to this podcast can be somewhat awkward on public transit because of the constant chuckling and smiling that you would think I wouldn’t be so self-conscious to it about because nobody cares about anyone else on public transit or in the big city more generally.

And this is what I’ve always wanted, right? Well, right. But here’s the second thing: the sort of engagement I can muster up at this point in my life. Because I can listen. I can call in if I feel the need to or I can just listen. But even if I can’t even do that, well, the episode will still be on my phone when I can, later. It will wait for me, and it won’t judge me for being late.

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If you want to crack a joke about me being overextended with all of these podcasts, you’re welcome to, but much like “a Simpsons did it” moment, I’ve made them all before as a way of dispelling the tension between my urge to create and the requirements of such. Which is still not a great way to cope, but it’s not nothing… I guess. But the point is that yes, it can be a lot. Especially a lot to add onto full time job and other life odds and ends that come up, especially when you have pets. 

Maybe this is me being needlessly naive and dumb, but I think I’m managing it rather nicely. And by nicely, I mean I’m delicately hanging on sometimes. And one thing can always tip the balance away from or in my favor. 

But that does not change the fact that I still have my loves and passions, that there are still things I want to engage with because they bring me a sense of joy that comes at a minimal cost. And even that cost I can’t always offer up. But then I can disengage.  Take a break and come back later.

And that’s a small thing, isn’t it? Not keeping up with a podcast, but it also plays into an overwhelming fear of mine: that I can’t offer up enough of myself to satisfy friends or potential romantic partners because I’m already overextended and maybe never have that much to begin with. I don’t know. But I feel like or I’m afraid that I’ll never have enough to give to someone. Of me, assuming I’m worth something. 

Wanting to be enough can’t be that uncommon of a fear, but still I feel as if I am not fully explaining this… thing. But that I am afraid of coming up short on the transactions that truly matter to me: the relational ones. 

Maybe it’s just the context that creates confusion because this is perhaps an odd context to think about personal failings. 

But I always wanted to be part of a fandom. I was just never good at it, for a variety of reasons, but this is a rare type of fandom for me. One that I can participate in. One that I can enter into or leave on my terms, which is hard at this stage in my life. But this a way I can do it. This is a way I can finally feel like a part of Night Vale, and I appreciate the invitation. Especially when I can’t take it.

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This has been a production of Miscellany Media Studios with music licensed from the Sounds like an Earful music supply. In addition to this show, My Hugot, The Oracle of Dusk, and Aishi Online. We’ve got yet another show launching on February 12th. Temporal Light. 

Oh and just a fun question. How do you know who you are? Zaneta thought that was a throwaway question, one just used to make people uncomfortable. Until she saw her face where it should not have been: crafted by a mysterious artist who hid it in such a way that there’s only one angle where you could see the secret. And Zaneta knew exactly where to stand.

So what is going on?

Oh and a very firm trigger warning for gaslighting. That’s pretty much the entirety of the show’s premise, so it’s very inescapable, which is why I’ve been stressing so much. If that’s an issue for you, you really are not going to be able to avoid it with this show. Just warning you. Listener discretion is definitely advised.

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Hello? Hello? Can you hear me…? 

Are you listening? (Music fades in) Not only to the sound of my voice but the content of the words I am speaking. The meaning, thoughts, objects, and concepts a specific selection of people have assigned to specific sounds. 

Frick!

I don’t… (light sigh) I don’t think you’re surprised by my nonsense, right? This is par for the course with me. I think you’re used to it by now. My weird, rambling thoughts sound completely normal to you. Because you would have heard them dozens or hundreds or even a thousand times before. And for a while you chose to stay, I guess. I mean, I was the one who left, right? That’s what happened. (softer) I think that’s what happened.

(louder) Anyway, I’m trying to tell you what I know, why I disappeared, and why I’m trying to come back. This isn’t an excuse. I hate those. It’s an explanation. I’m not trying to stand behind this story so it can shield me. I’m standing beside it, arms extended to the side, leaving my vulnerable points exposed. All the more reason to trust me, I guess. I hope.

But really, I didn’t remember you. I was made to forget. I was forced to. Really. And I’m trying to remember you now. And us. And everything. But I can’t do it without you.

Please help me.

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