George Washington, 1754

Chris Stevens
Episode 5.14, "Bolt from the Blue"

British Colonel Washington and his men surrounded a smaller party of Frenchmen caught napping by their fires. "I heard the bullets whistle," Washington later wrote, "and believe me there is something charming in the sound."

You're with 1754, folks, and what young Colonel George Washington had just done was open fire on a peaceful diplomatic mission, killing ten frenchmen and an ambassador, leading France and England to the brink of global war. The French later caught up with Washington's men at Fort Necessity, beat the pants off of them, causing Washington to surrender. That's wild, huh?

I mean, we think of George Washington, and we see this old geezer staring at us from the front of a dollar bill. Calm, wise, father of your country. But young George, he was out there, man. Original loose cannon, twenty-two years old and brought the wrath of two countries down on him.

Whoa, George.
Life's Blood

Chris Stevens
Episode 5.23, "Blood Ties"

Lestat said, "Be still. I'm going to drain you to the very threshhold of death and I want you to be quiet. So quiet that you can almost hear the flow of blood through your veins, so quiet that you can hear that same flow of blood through mine."

That concludes this mornings installment of Interview With a Vampire. We'll be back sucking down the red stuff mañana with Lestat same time, same station.

Blood drive hiatus continues, giving us a little time to sit back and think. I am...blood. That primordial ooze. Not out there, listeners, in here. Inside this skin we wear, it only lets us think we're something else--nice clean brains, little talking computers running around in the pursuit of happiness. We pierce this skin and what do we see? Warm ooze, protoplasm churning and jesting, defecating, pulsating, life, death.
Toast to the Mosquito

Chris Stevens
Episode 4.23, "Mud and Blood"

For winter's rains and ruins are over
and all the season of snows and sins;
The days dividing lover and lover,
the light that loses and the night that wins.
Frosts are slain and flowers begotten
and in the green underwood and cover
blossom by blossom spring begins.
To the hearty mosquito, Cicilians!

Life: The Long Haul

Chris Stevens
Episode 5.3, "Jaws of Life"

Message of the day. Listen up now, because this one's important. Brush those teeth, eat that roughage, pop those vitamins, and wear sensible shoes. Man, we homo sapiens carry around a heavy psychic knapsack: consciousness. We all know we're going to be asked to get off the merry-go-round someday. Best we can do is keep the corpse beautiful, right? And what is the right stuff, anyway, crossing a double yellow on your hog or looking a thirty-year mortgage flat in the face?

The long haul. I'm going to need some clean undies; got my toothbrush, got my library card. What did the man say? A journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step, right?
On Love

Chris Stevens
Episode 5.4, "Altered Egos"

It's been quite a week for yours truly, and it's only Tuesday.

Bernard and I have solved our metaphysical conundrum, and it's left me dangling on the horns of an even bigger dilemma, the biggest in fact. We're talking about the big L, people--amore, cupid's arrow, this crazy thing called love. I'm not talking about this agape kind of love, or this spiritual, platonic, brotherhood of man, hey, I'm okay, you're okay kind of deal. I'm talking about eros, serious grope time, the bonding of hearts, and glands, like Tristan and Isolde, Abalard and Heloise, Bernard and Ann.

What throws the switch? How is it my brother Bernard, my veritable other self, finds himself head over heels about someone to whom I'm totally indifferent and yet--and this is a big yet--someone for whom I once carried a monster torch. Was I different back then; was she? Is love supposed to last for all time, or is it like trains changing at random stops? If I loved her, how could I leave her? And if I felt that way then, how come I don't feel anything now?

The KBHR lines are open.
Paddle to the Sea

Chris Stevens
Episode 3.20, "The Final Frontier"

I made you, paddle person, because I had a dream: A little wooden man smiled at me. He sat in a canoe on a snowbank on this hill. Now the dream has begun to come true. The sun spirit will look down at the snow and the snow will melt and the water will run downhill to the river, on down to the Great Lakes, down again, on at last to the Sea. You will go on with the water and you will have adventures that I would love to have. But I cannot go with you because I have to stay and help my father with the traps.

That's Paddle to the Sea, folks, the story of a little Indian boy who sends a toy canoe on a journey that he himself is too young to take.

We do the same thing, you know -- Pioneer, Voyager, Galileo: our standard bearers in the eternal human crusade, exploration. And now we've hit the cosmic trail. Why? Well, because earth's played out.

You know, less than a hundred years ago, Amundsen could have been the first human being to reach the south Pole, Falcon Scott could have died trying, and now . . . well, last year China had to close down Mt. Everest, too much litter. The world's become a fragile place. It's not to be conquered, it's -- it's to be protected, coddled, nursed like a little baby. What do we do now? We launch our surrogates into interstellar space, dreaming of that one fine day when we ourselves can go.

The lower half of the falls was hidden in mist with a rainbow across it. Paddle fell through the rainbow and went on falling. Paddle had ridden rapids. He had ridden the Mad River and seen the rapids at the Sioux, so big that ships went around them. But these rapids -- thirty foot waves rushed on shooting stars turning inside and out at every jump. Paddle flew up on a chain of wet volcanoes and plunged deep in submarine dives and took sudden trips toward the moon in green rockets.

There's probably a lot of folks out there saying, "Man, I'm never going to have me a rush like that. Earth's a parking lot and outer space's just too pricey." Let me tell you something: there's lots of ways to blaze a trail. I always think back to those unsung heroes of the past, like that prehistoric gourmet who looked at that lobster and said, "I'm going to eat that," or the first healer who picked up a knife and said "Let's operate, boys." You see, adventures come in all kinds of shapes and sizes, like -- getting your hair cut, falling in love. Even getting behind the wheel and backing out of the driveway can be a sublime act of fate -- as well as a monumental act of courage.

For that instant, he looked like his own paddle. There was a song in his heart. It crept to his lips but only the water and the wind could hear. You little traveler, you made the journey -- the long journey. You now know things I have yet to know, you little traveler. You were given a name, a true name in my father's lodge. Good medicine, little traveler. You are truly a paddle person.

Where the Wild Things Are

Chris Stevens
Episode 2.05, "Spring Break"

But Max stepped into his private boat and waved goodbye, and sailed back over a year and in and out of weeks and through a day, and into the night of his very own room, where he found his supper waiting for him. And it was still hot.

Thank you Mr. Sendak. Thank you for reminding us that we should never ever lose touch with that wild and untamable spirit within us all.

You know mayhem has gotten a bad rap and chaos is taking it on the chin in these pathologically normal and rational times.

Even up here in Alaska, we're turning our back on the beast. We've opted for the zoo, where the lion can't eat you, instead of the jungle where he can.

Quelle dommage. What a drag.
The Script of Life

Chris Stevens
Episode 2.06, "War and Peace"

The place chosen for the duel was some eighty paces from the road on which their sledges had been left. In a small clearing, in the pine woods, covered with snow that had thawed in the warmer weather of the last few days.

If Pierre hadn't married
If Hélène hadn't cheated
If Pierre hadn't lost his temper
A lot of ifs in this life.

The duel itself at our next reading of War and Peace. It's ironic isn't it, that this parallel universe we call reality, we kinda - we've scripted in our own duel. Makes you wonder who's writing this book, huh?

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