The Botanical Filth: Episode 1
My buddy Thump sends me beautiful flower pictures from California, but let’s be real: these are just high-res shots of plant sex organs. It’s time we call it what it is.
Size Matters (But Length Isn’t Everything)
I realized this morning that no matter how much leverage you have, there are just some things you can’t do—even with a big stick.
The 4/20 Gateway Protocol: Episode 1346
It’s not a police code—it’s an appointment with a statue. This 4/20, we’re exploring the “Gateway Frequency” with a three-hour trip through the hazy history of altered states.
Transmission 1345: The Beautiful Weirdness of Agent K
I forgot to post the show last week, and I feel like an idiot. But the signal is back with Agent K’s latest installment of beautiful weirdness. Buckle up; we’re in bat country now.
Controlled Frequencies and Dystopian Realities
Am I the only one who thinks The Hunger Games is just 1984 with better outfits? Plus, a look at why we call music “Rock” and “Blues” and an apology for last week’s missing show.
Signal Drift: Chapter 21
“We were wrong about the EMP, Cronauer. It wasn’t just a stray burst.” Through a crackling Yaesu handheld, Dave reveals the architect behind the “Dark Sky” burst—and why the Driftless valleys were left intact to serve a new, predatory kingdom.
Signal Drift: Chapter 20
The “grandpa” mask was on, the honey was a bribe, and the WORT master crystal was tucked over his heart. Norm Stockwell didn’t look like a revolutionary, but as the heavy steel of the Checker Marathon hit Highway 14, the signal proved otherwise.
The Trillion-Dollar Soundstage
We left a pickup truck and a flag on the moon, and we still have people convinced it was shot in a basement. It’s time to stop the “space shit” talk and look at the telemetry.
The Great Wide Open: Part 2 – 1344
The skyline was wide open, but the silence from Seattle was heavy. We’re wrapping up the Heartbreakers deep dive and tracking the signal through the MCA years and beyond.
Signal Drift: Chapter 19
At 23:30, the lot at Station Zero was heavy with Driftless mist. Cronauer pulled on the Biltwell helmet, feeling the hardwired leads click into place. He lowered the PVS-14s over his eye. The world turned a grainy, glowing green. He hit the ignition. The boxer twin hummed low. He scrolled the iPod wheel to Queensrÿche’s Empire. As the opening bass line of ‘Best I Can’ slammed into his ears, he clicked the visor shut and kicked the GS into gear. He didn’t turn on the lights. He just leaned into the darkness and vanished into the treeline.