Speaker 1: Call Zone media, Robert Evans here and this is it
Speaker 1: could happen here, and boy it sure is now. I
Speaker 1: don't know where we go from this point, and neither
Speaker 1: does anyone else. On the moment before I wrote this,
Speaker 1: I woke up, groggy from my chemically assisted sleep to
Speaker 1: a barrage of horror. Donald Trump signing Anti Tran's legislation
Speaker 1: into law, Elon Musk giving a double fascist salute. Donald
Speaker 1: Trump saluting and dancing with the village people, proud boys
Speaker 1: tramping through the streets of our nation's capital, reveling in
Speaker 1: their newfound impunity. The dark days have come again because
Speaker 1: they never really left. All the battles and street fighting
Speaker 1: and organizing from twenty seventeen to twenty twenty brought us
Speaker 1: four years of badly negotiated peace while the rot continued
Speaker 1: unabated rot. It's a term I see a lot these days.
Speaker 1: A colleague and friend ed Zeitron refers to the hell
Speaker 1: our tech oligarchs continue to force upon us as the
Speaker 1: rot economy. Charlie Angus, a member of the Canadian Parliament,
Speaker 1: use the term rage rot to refer to now President
Speaker 1: Trump's Christmas Day message suggesting Canada should become the fifty
Speaker 1: first state. Over the last year, I've seen a slew
Speaker 1: of articles bemoaning democratic decay, the rot plaguing democracy, and
Speaker 1: the deep rot at the heart of our political system.
Speaker 1: One thing I have done over the last four years
Speaker 1: is learn how to efficiently process the carcasses of wild animals.
Speaker 1: So I hunter, raise, and slaughter, but many are roadkill,
Speaker 1: harvested from the side of the road. My family comes
Speaker 1: from rural Oklahoma, so perhaps there's some epigenetic hillbilly memory
Speaker 1: that makes this so satisfying to me. But it's also
Speaker 1: changed the way I understand the word rot. Rot starts
Speaker 1: from the bone. If you look at the back leg
Speaker 1: of an animal that's been hit by a truck, you'll
Speaker 1: see it spreading a deep black bruise from the ball
Speaker 1: and sockage. Point out. If your goal is to preserve
Speaker 1: good meat, then the key is to remove those limbs
Speaker 1: from the body and then the meat from the bone
Speaker 1: sooner rather than later. When I think of rot and
Speaker 1: how to arrest it, I think of dismemberment. This seems
Speaker 1: to be the one thing that almost every political person
Speaker 1: in the country agrees with the United States as it is,
Speaker 1: must be dismembered, disassembled, sliced from the rotten bone, and
Speaker 1: changed into something more palatable for whoever holds the knife.
Speaker 1: Joe Biden and the Democratic Party failed primarily because they
Speaker 1: refuse to start cutting. Their successors will not make the
Speaker 1: same mistake on the opposing side of the isle. Today,
Speaker 1: I see a lot of angry people arguing about what
Speaker 1: the knife ought to be cutting, and how much better
Speaker 1: they'd use it if it passed into their hands. That
Speaker 1: doesn't help any of us Right now. Migrants are dying
Speaker 1: of thirst while vigilantes destroy water drops left by activists
Speaker 1: who themselves will likely be criminalized in the near future.
Speaker 1: Homeless Americans trying not to freeze to death at knight
Speaker 1: may soon find themselves arrested, forced into camps where they'll
Speaker 1: be made to labor for pennies. Neo Nazi's cheer as
Speaker 1: the billionaire behind the throne makes fascist salutes from the
Speaker 1: White House with smirking impunity. The knife is so far
Speaker 1: away from our hands, I find myself distrusting anyone who
Speaker 1: wastes time bemoaning how it ought to be used. Where
Speaker 1: does that leave us, though? Is there anything to do
Speaker 1: in this deep winter besides listen to the jackals howling
Speaker 1: outside our doors. I have an answer to this question. Yes,
Speaker 1: now is the time to try to test the boundaries
Speaker 1: of our collective cage. Now is the time to experiment.
Speaker 1: Since the time of the founding fathers, this country and
Speaker 1: its system have been referred to as the American Experiment.
Speaker 1: One could see the very terms narcissistic, yet another solipsistic
Speaker 1: gasp of American exceptionalism. But I tend to think the
Speaker 1: appellation is one we've earned. This country is and always
Speaker 1: has been a test for new, often bad ideas about
Speaker 1: how a society ought to run. American civilization's only core
Speaker 1: value is throw shit at the wall and see what sticks.
Speaker 1: That also happens to be the only real way to
Speaker 1: fight back against authoritarianism. There's a scientific paper I bring
Speaker 1: up often, the evolution of overconfidence, which set out to
Speaker 1: explain why people so often badly overestimate their own abilities.
Speaker 1: The authors pondered quote, overconfidence also leads to faulty assessments,
Speaker 1: unrealistic expectations, and hazardous decisions. So it remains a puzzle
Speaker 1: how such a false belief could evolve or remain stable
Speaker 1: in a population of competing strategies that include accurate, unbiased beliefs. Now.
Speaker 1: The conclusion these researchers came to was that when significant
Speaker 1: resources are contested between two organisms, the organism most willing
Speaker 1: to try to take said resources, even if it is
Speaker 1: not the strongest, tends to succeed often enough to make
Speaker 1: over confidence evolutionarily beneficial. This is the most basic explanation
Speaker 1: for how fascist movements continue to arise and improbably take power.
Speaker 1: Put simply, they always go for it. January sixth provides
Speaker 1: us with a fine example. It was a ludicrous, idiotic,
Speaker 1: reckless burst of stupidity, mocked for years by everyone except
Speaker 1: the perpetrators, who four years later find themselves with ultimate power.
Speaker 1: They didn't win because they were the strongest. They won
Speaker 1: because they kept trying, and the people who should have
Speaker 1: stopped them feared bad press, the pushback of looking unfair,
Speaker 1: and so stood back while the fascists made smaller grabs,
Speaker 1: gobbling up bits of the media, local school boards, and
Speaker 1: narrative oxygen around issues like immigration and now, well, we're
Speaker 1: here and we'll continue to talk about here after these
Speaker 1: ads we're back. The coming days will be ugly. Yet
Speaker 1: I feel it's my job to remind you that bad
Speaker 1: as this is, we are not vymar Germany, and this
Speaker 1: is not nineteen thirty three. Trump and his lieutenants aren't
Speaker 1: battle hardened trench fighters. They're elon musk and a coterie
Speaker 1: of half enthusiastic, half frightened billionaires who got rich gambling
Speaker 1: on apps to let you rate your classmates tits. They're
Speaker 1: foot soldiers, are used car salesmen from Encino, not freikorps.
Speaker 1: The United States is not starving to death crippled by war.
Speaker 1: It's irritated anxious because it's working people have been robbed
Speaker 1: blind by the same billionaires standing behind Trump. Now. The
Speaker 1: one thing we do have in common with Vimar is
Speaker 1: that our fascists now find themselves at the head of
Speaker 1: a state that capitulated to them, not out of enthusiastic consent,
Speaker 1: but exhaustion, cowardice, and above all, a feeling that it
Speaker 1: didn't really matter that last one, the feeling that nothing matters.
Speaker 1: The system as fucked. There's no point in engaging or organizing.
Speaker 1: That is the most powerful weapon they have right now,
Speaker 1: because that feeling stops you and everyone else from opposing them,
Speaker 1: from interrupting as they reach out. Yet again to take
Speaker 1: something you love or need. But there's a danger here too.
Speaker 1: In moments of stress and anger, the desire to do
Speaker 1: something anything, can be intense, and when we're swept up
Speaker 1: in that mood, the natural tendency is defaulting to the
Speaker 1: things we know best, the things we've done before, the
Speaker 1: marches and chants and poster boards we've been walking and
Speaker 1: shouting and carrying all century long. Going back to those
Speaker 1: tactics without iteration or acknowledgment of their limitations and failures
Speaker 1: is a road to more failure. I've been to a
Speaker 1: lot of protests, starting at Zukati Park in twenty eleven
Speaker 1: an ending last year in Chicago. At one of the
Speaker 1: most dispeariting moments of my life was listening to young
Speaker 1: anti genocide activists bow to shut down the dn C
Speaker 1: to quote make it great like sixty eight. This was
Speaker 1: a reference to the nineteen sixty eight Democratic Convention. Mass
Speaker 1: protests were ignited there when the favorite anti war candidate,
Speaker 1: Eugene McCarthy was ratfucked by Democratic Party insiders in favor
Speaker 1: of Vice President Hubert Humphrey. The protests were quashed violently
Speaker 1: with tear gas and truncheons. Protesters chanted, the whole world
Speaker 1: is watching, and it's been a chant ever since. The
Speaker 1: world may have been watching then, but the war went on.
Speaker 1: Nixon won election, then re election, and then finally pulled
Speaker 1: US troops out of Vietnam after dropping enough bombs on
Speaker 1: Southeast Asia to have ended several Third Reichs. In twenty
Speaker 1: twenty four, a new batch of anti war protesters chanted,
Speaker 1: the whole world is watching, and I can say unequivocally
Speaker 1: it was not. The Only people watching were me, several
Speaker 1: other journalists, and of course some people on Twitter. The police,
Speaker 1: as they kettled Macedon arrested members of the crowd barely
Speaker 1: seemed to care. The DNC didn't shut down. Kamala Harris
Speaker 1: was made the nominee. There wasn't even a real anti
Speaker 1: war candidate for party insiders to rat fuck in her favor.
Speaker 1: Garrison Davis, my colleague and friend, remarked to me afterwards
Speaker 1: that the DNC had been somehow much more depressing than
Speaker 1: its Republican counterpart a month earlier. He was right on
Speaker 1: the stage floor. All the Democrats had to present were
Speaker 1: aging celebrities and Bill goddamn Clinton drooling out the same
Speaker 1: platitudes that led us to the Trump era in the
Speaker 1: first place, and doing their best to ignore delegates who
Speaker 1: walked out and slept in front of the convention center
Speaker 1: to protest the genocide in Gaza. Meanwhile, in the streets,
Speaker 1: a lot of very nice, earnest people alongside a handful
Speaker 1: of grifters did the only thing they could think of
Speaker 1: doing after months of imbibing footage of war crimes. They
Speaker 1: walked around and shouted. The police, and the city largely
Speaker 1: let them because they knew none of it was going
Speaker 1: to change a goddamn thing. I'd felt tremendous optimism right
Speaker 1: after Joe Biden resigned, not because I loved Kamala, but
Speaker 1: because it was something shocking, an upset, an experiment, or
Speaker 1: at least it seemed that way. At first, the DNC
Speaker 1: made it clear that Biden's advisors and consiglieries, the powers
Speaker 1: behind the throne, still ran the show and would not
Speaker 1: allow any real change. The rot had spread too far,
Speaker 1: spoiling the meat, spoiling everything. It was my accurate belief
Speaker 1: in twenty twenty that the Democratic Party, broken as it was,
Speaker 1: had the numbers and the organizational capacity to slow the
Speaker 1: spread of fascism. For a short time. It was my
Speaker 1: inaccurate belief in twenty twenty four that this might still
Speaker 1: be the case. I had a hope because I'd lost
Speaker 1: any sense of actual productive optimism we lean on when
Speaker 1: we have no ideas to brace ourselves against hope, as
Speaker 1: George Miller reminded us, is a mistake. If you don't
Speaker 1: fix what's broken, you'll go crazy. And that's where we
Speaker 1: are now going crazy. Committed Democrats, the decent, regular people
Speaker 1: who fill the party, not the soulless shogoths of capital
Speaker 1: running things, are going crazy because we return to normal,
Speaker 1: decent politician to office. He kept the economy humming along,
Speaker 1: and everyone still hated him. Leftists are crazy for a
Speaker 1: different reason. In twenty twenty, this country saw the largest
Speaker 1: sustained uprising of its modern history, and nothing fundamentally changed
Speaker 1: in its aftermath. The oligarchs who control social media set
Speaker 1: to tweaking, buying, or outright inverting their algorithms to ensure
Speaker 1: no similar movement whatever gain that kind of steam again.
Speaker 1: Their efforts have largely been successful, and yet many organizers,
Speaker 1: be they progressive, social democrats, communists, anarchists, whatever, they're all
Speaker 1: still stuck in the same loops behind each march to nowhere,
Speaker 1: and tired chant is an equally tired hope. The social
Speaker 1: democrats dream of a giant, continent sized Denmark with cyclists
Speaker 1: replacing Ford trucks, universal healthcare, good schools, and a bevy
Speaker 1: of other lovely things. Both political parties will fight tooth
Speaker 1: and nail to prevent. The communists dream of a new
Speaker 1: October revolution, but this one will work and not just
Speaker 1: create a new kind of dictatorship that ages and dies
Speaker 1: inside the space of a single human lifetime. Anarchists tend
Speaker 1: to be very good at seeing the flaws and the
Speaker 1: logic and futility of the hopes of the two previous groups,
Speaker 1: but they are just as bereft of ideas for how
Speaker 1: to stop what's coming. Some tendencies dream of collapse, maybe
Speaker 1: even accelerationism, an end to industrial society, and then either
Speaker 1: living in the woods eating berries, or some kind of
Speaker 1: solar punk day dream wildflowers spouting from rubble. I sympathize,
Speaker 1: but try offering eye their future to a single mom
Speaker 1: who can't afford her five year old's insulin and see
Speaker 1: how excited she gets. On the other side of the
Speaker 1: anarchist coin, you've got the helpers, the people who cheerfully
Speaker 1: admit they don't know how to solve the big problem,
Speaker 1: but they do know how to provide free eye exams
Speaker 1: to homeless people once a month, or do water drops
Speaker 1: down at the border so migrants don't die of dehydration,
Speaker 1: or make it more expensive for the state to bulldoze
Speaker 1: a forest and build a police training facility. If you
Speaker 1: are where we all are right now, bereft of ideas,
Speaker 1: staring down the barrel of a nightmare, those are good
Speaker 1: folks to know. Like everyone else, they're defaulting to what
Speaker 1: they've been doing, but at least what they've been doing
Speaker 1: helps people. The larger solutions to our common woes, if
Speaker 1: they ever arrive, will be something new, something we haven't
Speaker 1: tried yet. I feel very confident that they won't take
Speaker 1: the form of another march, or involve everyone finally agreeing
Speaker 1: to be the same kind of communist or anarchist or whatever.
Speaker 1: Sean Fayne, chief of the United Autoworkers Union, has called
Speaker 1: for a general strike in twenty twenty eight, and so
Speaker 1: far that is the only clear plan I have heard
Speaker 1: from anyone that feels like it has a ghost of
Speaker 1: a chance it is audacious, and I recommend reading what
Speaker 1: Sean's laid out about it. But half of why I
Speaker 1: support the idea is because it's audacious. The religious right
Speaker 1: got to where they are right now in this country
Speaker 1: by being bold, as I laid out earlier. Fascists win
Speaker 1: because they try, and this is something we need to copy.
Speaker 1: Shit can be different, but not unless you're willing to
Speaker 1: try different shit. Many pundits and columnists were shocked and
Speaker 1: horrified by the mass of an instant support for Luigim
Speaker 1: Mangioni when he assassinated the CEO of United Healthcare. Both
Speaker 1: the tutting gatekeepers of traditional media and the actually sweating
Speaker 1: oligarchs characterize this as evidence of bloodthirstiness. Some leftists did
Speaker 1: the same and interpreted support for Luigi as proof that
Speaker 1: the body politic did indeed have energy for an uprising.
Speaker 1: I saw something a bit different, more than the actual
Speaker 1: killing itself. I think people were excited to see someone
Speaker 1: try something new. Luigi adopted a novel tactic. He carried
Speaker 1: it out in a novel way, and in doing so,
Speaker 1: he did more to punish one of the oligarchs bleeding
Speaker 1: us dry than the entire occupy movement. Novelty is the
Speaker 1: one thing that ties Donald Trump and Luigi mangione together.
Speaker 1: The enthusiastic public response to both men's actions and the
Speaker 1: simultaneous revulsion of traditional elites are mirrors of themselves. In
Speaker 1: twenty twenty four, Trump still had enough novelty to convince
Speaker 1: people that he might upset the apple cart in a
Speaker 1: way that benefited them. He rode a global anti incumbent
Speaker 1: wave back to the White House. The consequence of this
Speaker 1: is that he and his are now on their way
Speaker 1: to becoming the new establishment. This is the downside of
Speaker 1: the fact that most legacy media outlets have started moderating
Speaker 1: their coverage of Trump. If not embracing him outright, he
Speaker 1: is being normalized. His toadies, Musk Chief among them, are
Speaker 1: now our legitimate powers. What novelty remains will fade rapidly.
Speaker 1: I suspect the same thing will be true of the
Speaker 1: copycats who follow in Luigi Maggioni's footsteps. Most of his
Speaker 1: plagiarists won't be good at what they do. At best,
Speaker 1: newly heightened security will see these people dropped before they
Speaker 1: get to pull a trigger. At worst, innocent folks will
Speaker 1: be killed or maimed by bullets and bombs that fail
Speaker 1: to hit their intended targets, or do but with a
Speaker 1: lot of collateral damage. So I don't know what the
Speaker 1: next new thing to actually work will be. But between
Speaker 1: Trump and Luigi, there aren't many old norms left to shatter.
Speaker 1: We are in a time of enormous potential. Many new
Speaker 1: things are about to be tried, and as awful and
Speaker 1: bloody as the fallout from some of them will be,
Speaker 1: we all have no choice but to strap in and
Speaker 1: roll some dice of our own is ugly, the future unwritten,
Speaker 1: but the only way we'll make it a better one
Speaker 1: is if we embrace boldness, creativity, and perhaps a little
Speaker 1: over confidence of our own. And this is not the
Speaker 1: end of the episode. We've got something else for you, folks,
Speaker 1: But first, here's another ad break. Okay, everybody, we're back,
Speaker 1: And obviously what you just listened to is an essay
Speaker 1: I wrote about my thoughts and feelings today, the first
Speaker 1: day of the new Trump administration. I felt like that
Speaker 1: wasn't quite enough. And the first thing I actually came
Speaker 1: across this morning when I woke up, before I started
Speaker 1: subjecting myself to a barrage of Horrible News was a
Speaker 1: poem written by a friend of mine, Emily Gorchinsky. It's
Speaker 1: called the Time of Cowards, and I think it's a
Speaker 1: very useful thing for you to hear right now. I
Speaker 1: think it's a good companion to what I wrote, So
Speaker 1: I'm going to let Emily take it away before I
Speaker 1: do that. If you want to read the poem and
Speaker 1: text form, or find her other work, you can go
Speaker 1: to Emily Gorchynsky g o r ce n ski dot com.
Speaker 1: That's Emily g O r c e n ski dot com. Here.
Speaker 1: It is the time of cowards.
Speaker 2: It is the time of the coward. It is the
Speaker 2: age of the liar and greed and avarice and lost
Speaker 2: boys and a dopamine hit in fractals and velocity and
Speaker 2: velocity and velocity, and go, go, go, don't stop. Don't
Speaker 2: stop to realize the indecency, the disloyalty, the dishonor, the discreditability,
Speaker 2: the parsimony, the hordes hoarded behind the gates, the gatekeepers keep.
Speaker 2: This is the dawn of masculine energy. Not the energy
Speaker 2: your father taught you about measuring twice and cutting once,
Speaker 2: but picking yourself up and how the sting of hydrogen
Speaker 2: peroxide means it's working. Or your grandfather who spent the
Speaker 2: days you spent smoking weed behind a seven eleven, serving
Speaker 2: on a torpedo boat, waiting for the sharks, who never
Speaker 2: failed to stop to lend a hand to those in need,
Speaker 2: or say grace before dinner, or to help you with
Speaker 2: your math homework, or teach you not to wear a
Speaker 2: necktie at a lathe. This is the year of cutting
Speaker 2: once and never measuring, pencil in the blueprints with whatever
Speaker 2: comes out. It's faster that way. The season of hypocrites,
Speaker 2: and not of confidence, but confidence men, the masculine energy
Speaker 2: of the Khan, the scam, the bamboozle, the fraud, the
Speaker 2: pulling of the rug and the begging of the question.
Speaker 2: Now is the killing hour. The clock hands float over,
Speaker 2: the blood in the streets, and the rage, and the rage,
Speaker 2: and the uncorked hatred overflows, the minutes of impotence, expanding overflowing, fizzling.
Speaker 2: Deception gives way to more deception. Not a single promise
Speaker 2: is kept. Rapaciousness and rape and abandonment and the cutting
Speaker 2: of corners and KPIs. A newborn died in a baby
Speaker 2: box in Italy because the alarm sensor didn't work. It
Speaker 2: is an honorless time, a time of only one question,
Speaker 2: not how or may or can or if or whether,
Speaker 2: but when how soon? No legacy, no history, no reputation.
Speaker 2: Build the factories, then abandon them. The soil keeps the memory,
Speaker 2: and the burn scars and the floodwaters, and the clear
Speaker 2: windshields where the splatters of bugguts used to be, and
Speaker 2: the images in the twenty year old magazine still in
Speaker 2: the rack, and the guest bathrooms never used. That showed
Speaker 2: how children used to go sledding. And maybe the house
Speaker 2: is too big. No one comes by. I shoveled the
Speaker 2: neighbor's walk in the snow and salted it so he
Speaker 2: didn't slip on the ice and could receive his mail.
Speaker 2: He's an old man, one of the few black men
Speaker 2: left living in this neighborhood that was theirs. Once he
Speaker 2: sent me a letter, it went all the way to
Speaker 2: Richmond to come to my dea. He's the last man
Speaker 2: with dignity. In the letter, he told me he has
Speaker 2: a new toy, a laptop, which makes him happy because
Speaker 2: he is a big lover of history and he can
Speaker 2: go online and read about it and I weep for
Speaker 2: this last dignified man who proudly wears a cap honoring
Speaker 2: his service, because this is the era of synthesis and
Speaker 2: generation and revision and content content content, and inverifiability and manipulation.
Speaker 2: This is the pseudo scene. I bought a bottle of
Speaker 2: wine from a century's old vineyard, destroyed in a devastating flood,
Speaker 2: an unsyllable bottle in the retail market, fundraiser souvenir. I
Speaker 2: kept it as a memento Mary of our changing world,
Speaker 2: a mud covered reminder of how we all must work,
Speaker 2: little by little to give the world forward. It broke
Speaker 2: when I tried to move it home on my seventy
Speaker 2: second flight of the year. It is the decade of hypocrisy.
Speaker 2: Even for those who can see hypocrisy. They may be
Speaker 2: a vice president. And with every title change, I move
Speaker 2: farther from God, a God I never believed in. I
Speaker 2: was raised in New England towns named for biblical places
Speaker 2: by people who thought working the rocky soil brought them
Speaker 2: closer to God. The only holy men left are those
Speaker 2: in the fields Basra and Lebanon, and the Gilead and Hebron.
Speaker 2: The people who named those towns committed a genocide to
Speaker 2: name them, and four hundred years later in their namesakes
Speaker 2: the same. It is the epoch of cadaverin. It is
Speaker 2: the night of bonfires and Feuershpusche, the twilight of stories
Speaker 2: that dared in poems and albums. And I tried to
Speaker 2: sell a book, and I learned that there's only interest
Speaker 2: in a book when you put yourself into it to
Speaker 2: be consumed. Words are calories, measured in the amount of
Speaker 2: heat they gave a flame. I walked over the Westminster
Speaker 2: Bridge one night with a journalist who told me that
Speaker 2: they can't publish two good stories at a time because
Speaker 2: if one goes viral, it punishes the other. The arcane
Speaker 2: footfalls of the algorithm dance. It is the sunset of
Speaker 2: craft and skills handed down in heritage, waxing of a
Speaker 2: crass and pandering moon of pantomime, a frictionless night, a
Speaker 2: night where nothing dared, nothing gained, a night of shutters
Speaker 2: and locks. These are the dark ages, ages of embarrassing
Speaker 2: the future. There is a shame here that penance cannot satisfy.
Speaker 2: The sturdy empty shells, the blue hyperlinks to nowhere, and
Speaker 2: a generation lost must be lost because profit cannot be
Speaker 2: taken from an idea. I think of the mimiograph machines
Speaker 2: stuck under the floorboards of the Solidara Nosche houses, and
Speaker 2: the punks and the whores who copied radical zines in
Speaker 2: the public library, xerox machines, and the Yugoslavian Galaxia, and
Speaker 2: the novels now considered some of the greatest of all time,
Speaker 2: once banned for obscenity. In Chochescu's house, the original TV remains.
Speaker 2: The revolutionaries didn't bother to steal it because there were
Speaker 2: only thirty minutes of broadcast TV each day. In the
Speaker 2: crepuscular light, birds dare to sing, even though they know
Speaker 2: the cats hunt below. In Vilnius, there is a tile
Speaker 2: in a square. They say, if you make a win
Speaker 2: and spin around it three times, your wish will come true.
Speaker 2: At this tile a human chain formed and spanned three countries,
Speaker 2: and they sang at Hadra Kim. On the right day,
Speaker 2: the morning light filters in over the lonesome island of
Speaker 2: Philflow and fills a hole drilled in the sandstone five
Speaker 2: thousand years ago, and has done so unfailingly over the
Speaker 2: millennia that have seen countless empires rise and fall, and
Speaker 2: the solstice of retribution will come again.
Speaker 1: It Could Happen Here as a production of cool Zone Media.
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Speaker 1: coolzonemedia dot com or check us out on the iHeartRadio app,
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Speaker 1: find sources for It Could Happen Here, updated monthly at
Speaker 1: coolzonemedia dot com slash sources. Thanks for listening.