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Fear. Suspense. Gout. - Blather. Rants. Repeat.
A Møøse once bit my sister ...
Fear. Suspense. Gout.


The media respected the complete, dominant audio silence required to maintain the safety of the citizens of our little town.

Nothing in the event notices or previews in the aged daily paper's ironically named "Gusto" section.  No listings of this "performance" in the regular alt-weekly ads for the ancient, formerly Methodist venue now known as Babeville. Offers to sell, or even give away, unused tickets gone unclaimed. Only a lone homeless man on the Delaware curb seeking help, and not with tickets.

And yet. Somehow. This once sacred space is approaching full as a lone radio announcer prepares to take a stage. This chancel has been filled before by Ani DiFranco many times. By Dar Williams once in my presence. But tonight, that chancel will be taken over by the voice of Cecil.

Welcome. To Night Vale.



Mary Epworth provided the opening and the weather. That's ironically Methodist.  I must seek out more of her music.

Then, out came Meg. You know, the Proverb Lady.


She welcomed us, and we welcomed her, and she cued Disparition (who's just a guy, yaknow?), but then it was time. Airtime. Cecil time.


Be afraid, he said. There is a murderer in our midst. Duh. We had OJ here for close to a decade.  We got this.

I shall not reveal more of the plot. But there WAS a plot. Fiendish and complex.  Contributing were the perfect hair of Carlos-


- and the bold bravery of Tamika Flynn, who made more of James Joyce's Araby than I ever did-


Mostly, Cecil did his job as a professional radio host, offering vital segments in between his basso profondo tracking of the murrdererr.  Who we met! And it was fine! There was pointing, and winking, and the calming of an angry mob- and, after the weather, all the loose ends got tied up, and Cecil ended with a message of faith, hope and love, as pronounced and caring as any sermon ever offered from this once Methodist sanctuary. Which, by the way, was full on a Sunday, and mostly of millennials.  Bring them a simple message of optimism, with an organ accompanist in that same chancel, and they WILL come- even with complete silence about the service.

Either that, or serve beer in the narthex.  That'd be cool of you, too.

What else is there to end with but.... Good night, LJ. Good night:)
2 comments or Leave a comment
warriorsavant From: warriorsavant Date: May 18th, 2015 03:46 pm (UTC) (Link)
Beautiful pix, but might help if you said somewhere what you are taking about.
captainsblog From: captainsblog Date: May 18th, 2015 03:53 pm (UTC) (Link)
Fair point. Since nobody in this town gave it an explanation, I will have to resort to the preview from Pittsburgh:
2 comments or Leave a comment