It Could Happen Here - CZM Book Club: Stories About Nightingale the Robber

Episode Date: July 28, 2024

Margaret reads you Russian folklore about a cool bird robber guy who lives in a nest that some punks like.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Hey guys, I'm Kate Max. You might know me from my popular online series, The Running Interview Show, where I run with celebrities, athletes, entrepreneurs, and more. After those runs, the conversations keep going. That's what my podcast, Post Run High, is all about. It's a chance to sit down with my guests and dive even deeper into their stories, their journeys, and the thoughts that arise once we've hit the pavement together. Listen to Post Run High on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Curious about queer sexuality, cruising, and

expanding your horizons? Hit play on the sex-positive and deeply entertaining podcast, Sniffy's Cruising Confessions. Join hosts Gabe Gonzalez and Chris Patterson Rosso as they explore queer sex, cruising, relationships, and culture in the new iHeart podcast, Sniffy's Cruising Confessions. Sniffy's Cruising Confessions will broaden minds and help you pursue your true goals. You can listen to Sniffy's Cruising Confessions, sponsored by Gilead, now on the iHeartRadio app or wherever you get your podcasts. New episodes every Thursday. of Google search. Better Offline is your unvarnished and at times unhinged look at the underbelly of tech brought to you by an industry veteran with nothing to lose. Listen to Better Offline on the iHeartRadio app,

Apple Podcasts, wherever else you get your podcasts from. Call Zone Media book club book club book club book club book club book club book club book club i don't know why the chanting sounds worried there's nothing to worry about why are you worried you're listening to cool zone media book club the only book club where you don't have to do the reading because i do it for you so there's nothing to worry about. I'm your host, Margaret Kiljoy. And this week, I'm going to read you more folk stories because I really like them

and because this week's folk stories come from a book called Bellini Book, Hero Tales of Russia by Marian Chilton Harrison from 1915. And they're not really by Marian. They're, you know, interpretations of traditional stories. And why am I reading you these stories? Well,

they're about this hero named Ilya, Ilya of Murom. But they're not really about that to me. What they're about to me is Nightingale the robber. Who's Nightingale the robber? Well, Nightingale the robber is a robber who's a nightingale. And he lives in a nest in the forest and he robs people. But he doesn't rob people with swords or claws. He whistles them to death. His whistle is so frightening that it kills people. And I came across him very recently because I was doing that thing that normal people do where you go and you listen to Russian and Ukrainian songs about anarchists during the revolution. And I came across a song called Nightingale the Robber. And I was like, who's that? And it was a song about Makhno,

the anarchist from Ukraine from 19-whatever. I've done a whole bunch of podcasts about him, so is Robert on Behind the Bastards. But they talked about him in this song, this kind of punk song from, I think, the early 90s, where they're like, you have to remember, this is the land of Nightingale the robber. And I was like, ooh, so he's a folk hero that's like an antagonist in most versions of the story. In fact, all the versions of the story that I can find. But like all good antagonists, he's a hero to some people. And I wanted to know more. And I still don't know everything. I want to know everything. But I famously don't read Russian or Ukrainian. So I only know what I was able to find in translation. So I read a whole bunch of translations about Ilya Murom and Nightingale the Robber. And then I've picked my favorite one, which is the one that I already told you. It's from Bellini book, Hero Tales of Russia by Marianne Chilton Harrison from 1915. And I like it because

it's like both a clearer translation and a slightly less literal than some of the other ones, but also it's a little bit more sympathetic to Nightingale. And it like kind of plays up some of the weird proletarian elements in that Ilya is a peasant hero unlike some of the other heroes of the same kind

of era of folk heroes from Russia. Ilya is a peasant hero, unlike some of the other heroes of the same kind of era of folk heroes from Russia. Ilya is a peasant. And the other thing that I think is really funny is that people talk about like superheroes as if they're this new thing. Folklore is just superhero stories. Not all of it. Some of it's really cool and like monsters and stuff. And I usually like the monsters more than I like the superheroes. But Ilya Murom is a superhero. And this one's a little bit less superhero than some of them. And so I like it a little bit more. That's my introduction. What comes after the introduction is the story. I'm actually going to read you two stories. The first one is a little bit longer and has a nightingale in it. And the other one I just thought was kind of cool. So I'm going to read it to you too. Because why not?

I can do whatever I want. Well, I guess that's clearly not true. But I can do a lot of things, including read you this story. Ilya of Murom and Nightingale the Robber. Okay, so in most versions of this story, it starts a little bit differently. And one of the things that it cuts out in this particular one,

that is an interesting detail that I'm just going to interject here right at the beginning is that in Ilya of Murom, the hero of this story, was not able to walk until he was 30. And then as soon as he was 30 or 33, depending on the story, he like suddenly could walk and became a mighty hero. The green oak bows not down to the earth. Leaves of paper do not grow. Ilya had made up his mind to go to Kiev town

to seek service with the gracious Prince Vladimir. But before setting out on that long journey, he wished to see his father again and ask for his blessing. So he rode back to Murom and to his old home. He found his old father there and greeted him saying, come thou my own dear father. I'm here to ask for thy blessing.

I go to glorious royal Kiev town to pray at the sanctuary of Kiev and to pledge myself to Vladimir the prince, to serve him in faith and in truth, and to uphold the Christian faith. The old farmer Ivan blessed Ilya and said, I give thee my blessing for the good work, but for evil work, no blessing I give. Go thou on the right road and do no harm to any woman, whether she be Christian or Tatar. Other versions of this, he only says like, don't hurt any Christians, don't spill Christian blood.

And I like that this version doesn't do that, you know, because the whole history of this area is a history of conflict between like the Ottoman Empire and the Russian Empire. Ilya of Murom bowed to the earth before his father and said farewell to his mother and his sisters and brothers. And then he mounted his good horse and rode through the open plain. With his whip, he struck his horse on the curved hind quarter and his rest of steed was wroth and suddenly sprang from the earth and bounded higher than an upright tree, almost as high as a moving cloud. At the first bound he passed twelve miles. At the second bound he came to a well. By the well Elia cut down a green oak tree, and beside the well he built a small chapel, and upon the chapel he wrote his name, Ilya of Murom, son of Ivan.

So that if some strong and mighty hero should ride that way, he should know the name of the builder of that chapel. At the third bound, Ilya's horse brought him to the town of Chernigov. Near Chernigov, there stood a countless host of Tatars, and at their head were three princes, each with the strength of 40,000. of Tatars, and at their head were three princes, each with the strength of forty thousand. On seeing his vast horde, the hero's heart grew hot within him, and he could not control his longing to fight. His heart was filled with fires, and it burned too, as if scorched by frost. Then he spoke and said, I desire not to go against my father's wish, or knowingly disregard his command. Then he took in his hand his battle sword, and taught it to take a walk through the army. Where he turned, it opened out a street, and when he turned round, there was a great open space.

Ilya made his way to the three princes and spoke thus to them. Come, my three king's sons, shall I take you away as prisoners or shall I cut off your warlike heads? If I take you away as prisoners, I must travel over roads that I know not and must carry bread. But if I take off your heads, the kingly race will be destroyed. If you will go home to your own country, you will spread such report of me that it will be known all over Russia, and you will tell it everywhere that in holy Russia there are strong and mighty heroes. The governor of Chernigov saw Ilya and said, The Lord has vanquished our tyrant and cleansed our glorious city of Chernigov. And he spoke to his princes and nobles and said, Go ye and call in this goodly hero to eat bread and salt with me. And the princes and nobles came

forth to greet Ilya of Murom and said, Come now, thou stalwart and goodly hero, and tell us by what honored name thou art called, and what is thou renowned father's name? They call me by the name of Ilya, and I am honored as the son of Ivan, said Ilya. Come, Ilya of Murom, said the princes and the nobles, come to our governor, he sends us to invite thee to eat bread and salt with him. But Ilya wished to be on the way to Kiev and answered with little ceremony. I will not come to your governor. I wish not to eat bread and salt with him.

Show me the straight road to the glorious royal Kiev town. So they had to let him go on his way, and they showed him the straight road to Kiev across the open plain. Farther, farther upon the open plain waves of the feather grass and the breeze, there upon the open plain among old folks, mothers and men, rode the old Cossack, Ilya of Murom, and the horse he rode was like a fierce wild beast and he himself like a bright falcon. Now the old hero carried no money.

Only 7,000 golden ducats he had with him and of small money, 40,000 pieces. And the horse the hero rode was priceless. Why was the hero's horse priceless? Because there was no price for the horse. When he came to a river, he looked for no ford. Now the river was a full mile wide, but the good steed leapt from bank to bank.

Then Ilya saw a village nearby, and the villagers, brigands as we say in our Russian tongue, rode out after the hero. They swept round him and tried to rob him, tried to part him from his life and soul. Then said Ilya of Morom, son of Ivan, O come, brother villagers, no reason have ye to kill an old man like me, and ye shall take nothing from the old man.

He took from his saddle his tough bow, and brought out from his quiver a sharp arrow. He bent his bow and fitted the arrow to the silken string, and shot, not at the village folk, brigands though they were, for he would have been loath to slay them. But he shot at the green oak tree, and the bowstring sang in the tough folk, brigands though they were, for he would have been loth to slay them. But he shot at the green oak tree, and the bowstring sang in the tough bow, and the villagers fell from their horses. The arrow struck the crackling green oak tree and shattered the oak into chips and shavings. By this heroic deed of thunder, the brigand villagers were filled with fear, and for five hours they lay without sense, and Ilya made sport of them. Come, come, good youths, you village brigands. Why do you lie half the night there upon the

damp earth? Why go off to sleep and sleep half the night? On my way here I passed many people, both on horseback and on foot. You have let many a good chance escape you. The goodly youths stood up upon their nimble feet and threw themselves at Ilya's feet and said, O thou brave hero, come and join our band, and be thou our chieftain. The good hero, Ilya of Morom, answered them, I desire not to join your band. I am on my way to Kiev town, to Vladimir the prince, to help him, and to fight and defend him. The bold hero rode on through the open plain till he came to a pillar of white oak. On the pillar this writing was written, to ride straight on only 500 miles, but by making a round 700 miles.

Ilya looked at this writing and said, if I ride straight, I shall cease to live. This way I can neither ride nor walk nor fly. Nightingale the robber sits in his nest upon the seven oaks, and the robber dog will seize me at the seventh mile. Much like you can be seized by these sweet, sweet products and or services. by these sweet, sweet products and or services. After those runs, the conversations keep going. That's what my podcast, Post Run High, is all about. It's a chance to sit down with my guests and dive even deeper into their stories, their journeys, and the thoughts that arise

once we've hit the pavement together. You know that rush of endorphins you feel after a great workout? Well, that's when the real magic happens. So if you love hearing real, inspiring stories from the people you know, follow, and admire, join me every week for Post Run High. It's where we take the conversation beyond the run and get into the heart of it all. It's lighthearted, pretty crazy, and very fun. Listen to Post Run High on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. I'm Jack Peace Thomas, and I'm inviting you to join me and a vibrant community of literary enthusiasts dedicated to protecting and celebrating our stories. Black Lit is for the page turners, for those who listen to audiobooks while commuting or running errands, for those who find themselves seeking solace, wisdom, and refuge between the chapters. From thought-provoking novels to powerful poetry, we'll explore the stories that shape our culture. Together, we'll dissect classics and contemporary works

while uncovering the stories of the brilliant writers behind them. Blacklit is here to amplify the voices of Black writers and to bring their words to life. Listen to Blacklit on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. to the destruction of Google search, better offline is your unvarnished and at times unhinged look at the underbelly of tech from an industry veteran with nothing to lose. This season, I'm going to be joined by everyone

from Nobel-winning economists to leading journalists in the field, and I'll be digging into why the products you love keep getting worse and naming and shaming those responsible. Don't get me wrong, though. I love technology. I just hate the people in charge

and want them to get back to building things that actually do things to help real people. I swear to God things can change if we're loud enough. So join me every week to understand what's happening in the tech industry and what could be done to make things better. Listen to Better Offline on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, wherever else you get your podcasts. Check out betteroffline.com. And we're back. I hope you got advertised swords. Big fan of swords. Ilya stood still to think what he should do. The straight horse road is broken up.

The little bridge of white hazel is broken down. It would be no honor to me or glory to my knighthood to ride by that roundabout way. It is better to ride by the straight road. At once he got down from his good steed. With one hand, he led his horse, while with the other, he put planks across the stream for a bridge, that bridge of white hazel. The straight road he mended, and he rode on till he came near the clump of seven oak trees upon which Nightingale the robber had built his great nest. Nightingale the robber was sitting upon his nest of twisted boughs upon the seven oak trees,

and Ilya rode up to the oak trees. The robber dog tried to seize him just as he had come to the seventh mile. And Nightingale the robber roared like a wild aurochs, and the villain whistled like a nightingale, and the robber dog howled like a dog. And at these sounds, Elia's good steed fell upon his knees with terror at the roar of the aurochs and the whistle of the nightingale and the dog-like howling of the robber dog.

Elia struck his horse between the ears and also struck him upon the flank, saying, O thou food for wolves, thou grass bag! Hast thou never heard the roar of an aurochs? Hast thou never heard the whistle of a nightingale, and the howling of a robber dog? The hero did not sit still, but quickly bent his strong bow, took a sharp arrow from his quiver, and shot the arrow at Nightingale the robber as he sat there in his nest on the seven oak trees. The arrow hit Nightingale the robber in the right eye and came out at the left ear, and Nightingale the robber fell from his nest down upon the damp earth. Then Elia took Nightingale the robber and tied him to his

Circassian stirrup and made him walk besides the horse towards Kiev town. Presently they came to the house of Nightingale the robber. It was a big house in a large yard, and round the yard was a high iron fence with spikes on the railings, and upon every spike was set the head of a hero, for Nightingale the robber killed all that passed that way. Nightingale's children caught sight of their father and called out, Look, father is bringing a man. And Nightingale's young wife looked from the window and said,

A strange man is carrying off your dear father. And she called to some men who were idling about the yard and said, Will you not take him from this wanderer on the road? Is your dear father nothing to you? Has he fallen into the power of this horseman? It would be better to take a cup full of red gold and another of pure silver and a third cup of round pearls. Go now and offer them as a ransom. Speak to this horseman and persuade him. Coax him and talk him over so that he may release Nightingale And they rushed into the house

And Nightingale's wife took the keys And went down to the deep vaults Where all Nightingale's treasure was stored And they filled up a cup of red gold And another with pure silver And a third with round pearls And they went out to Ilya with flattering words And tried to coax him and talk him over

Saying, O thou bold hero Good youth, give us back our dear father And they went out to Ilya with flattering words and tried to coax him and talk him over, saying, O thou bold hero, good youth, give us back our dear father, and we will give thee gold and silver. Ilya received these messengers and talked to them thus, Look here, brothers, you who work for gain, I will not give you your dear father. He would only turn brigand again and rob the travelers passing this way. And Ilya rode on to Kiev town with Nightingale the robber by his side, still tied to the stirrup so that he could not run away. Ilya hurried on for he would not feign to be at Kiev in time for the service on Easter morning.

But he could not get there in time. When he reached Kiev, he rode into the wide courtyard of the prince's palace. He tied up his good horse to the gold ring on a garven pillar, but did not take off either the saddle or the bridle, and he left Nightingale the robber still tied to the stirrup. Then Ilya walked quickly through the new entrance, through the guardroom, and into the hall. There he crossed himself like a good Russian and made his bow as he came into the hall. There he crossed himself like a good Russian and made his bow as

he came into the hall. The steward of Vladimir the Prince he greeted and asked him, where is the Prince Vladimir of Royal Kiev? Prince Vladimir has gone to mass, was the answer. Ilya sat down on the plain wooden bench to wait. In a short time, Prince Vladimir came in with his nobles in attendance from the Easter service. Then they all gave greetings to one another, and each hero greeted the other, and Vladimir spoke to Ilya and said, All hail to thee, brave youth! I know not thy name, or thy father's name. Art thou a czar, or a czar's son? Art thou a king, or a king's son? Ilya answered and said, I am from the town of Murom. I am the old Cossack, Ilya of Murom. And they all sat down at the table to eat bread, and they carved and ate white swans, and Ilya began to talk and boast of what he had done.

I am a brave hero. I have been riding through the eve of Easter day. I would fain have been here in time for Easter mass, but I could not get here in time for Easter morning, for the hour was past. I rode here by the straight road, and when I reached the green oaks, Nightingale the robber was sitting upon the seven oaks. That ill-doer used to seize upon every one for seven miles round. When I came near the oaks, Nightingale roared like a wild oryx, and the villain whistled like a nightingale, and the robber dog howled like a dog.

Then my good horse fell upon his knees with fear, but I took out my tough bow, set the sharp arrow, and shot Nightingale the robber. I shot the villain through the right eye, and the arrow came out by his left ear. Then Nightingale fell upon the damp earth, and I took the robber and fastened him to my Circassian stirrup and brought the villain with me. Vladimir the Prince looked at Ilya and said, It seems to me, my bold youth,

that there must be a big tavern in this country. Hast thou been drinking strong drink? Art thou not making empty boasts, good hero? Ilya's wrath grew hot within him, and angrily he said, Thou it is who art the fool, O Prince of Royal Kiev. I have Nightingale the robber here, tied to my Circassian stirrup. Then all sprang up and rushed out, hurried and stumbled against each other as they ran out to see Nightingale the robber. They all spoke and shouted together and called out to him,

O thou Nightingale the robber, roar, O Nightingale, like an oryx. Thou evildoer, whistle like a nightingale. O thou robber dog, howl like a dog. Nightingale the robber looked up and said, With you, I neither eat nor drink, and I will not obey you. At once the crowd of courtiers turned back to the hall and came to Ilya of Morum, bowed low to him, and craved their boon. O Ilya of Morum, we beg thee to make Nightingale the robber roar like an aurochs, make the villain whistle like a nightingale, make the robber dog howl like a dog. Make the villain whistle like a nightingale.

Make the robber dog howl like a dog. And Ilya spoke to the prince and said, O Vladimir, prince of royal Kiev, nightingale's lips are now sealed together and his mouth is filled with dried blood. For my arrow went through his right eye and it came out by the left ear. Pray, let a bowl of strong drink be poured out for him, a bowl weighing half a hundredweight,

a bowl holding four gallons, and let it be given to Nightingale. And they poured him out a bowl of strong drink, a bowl weighing half a hundredweight, a bowl holding four gallons, and they took it to Nightingale the robber. He took the bowl in one hand, drank off the bowl of strong drink at one draft,

and spoke these words, Pour out another bowl of strong drink at one draft, and spoke these words, Pour out another bowl of strong beer, a bowl weighing half a hundredweight, a bowl holding four gallons, and pour out a third bowl of sweet mead, a bowl weighing half a hundredweight, a bowl holding four gallons. And they poured out a bowlful of strong beer, and they poured out a bowlful of sweet mead, and brought both to Nightingale the robber. He took the bowl with one hand, and drank off the bowlful at one draft. And then Nightingale the robber was drunken, and Ilya of Murom said to him, Now, Nightingale, roar thou robber like an aurochs. Whistle, O villain, like a nightingale, and howl, O dog, like a dog. And Nightingale the robber roared like an aurochs.

The villain whistled like that nightingale and the robber dog howled like a dog. Princes and nobles all lay for dead. But Vladimir the prince of royal Kiev stood up straight and went to Ilya for the prince had a boon to ask. Silence Nightingale the robber lest he whistle again like a nightingale,

and my nobles leave me here alone. But you know what won't leave you alone? It's advertising. It's everywhere. It might even roar like an aurochs. These ads might whistle like a nightingale, and they might howl like a dog. Hey guys, I'm Kate Max.

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Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. and we're back so that's the end of the first story in most of the versions of that story vladimir then cuts off the nightingale's head i don't like that version as much i really like the nightingale he's the cool robber guy who whistles in three voices at once and is like half a bird. And, you know, it's like I found more descriptions of him online than I found like actual stories describing him these ways that he lives in a nest, but he also has a house with people. We've got that much. And he's like kind of half bird. He can fly, but he also has hands, you know, because he can drink from these bowls. He's just cool. I get why people are into him.

He killed all the princes and shit just by fucking howling and whistling. Might we all have such strength? But I'm going to read you one more story. It's another story of Ilya. The Three Ways One day Ilya set off on his good horse for a ride. He rode a long way through the open plain till he came to the burning stone. Three lengths beyond the stone, there were three paths leading this way and that,

from the burning stone and upon the stone was written, Who goes by the first path will be killed. Who goes by the second path will find marriage. Who goes by the third path will become rich. He stopped to consider. By which path shall I go? Why should a bold hero want to be rich? Why should I want to marry? I will take the way to be killed. So he took that way and rode on for three hours,

and he rode 300 miles. And he came to a hill, and at that hill, that high hill, brigands began to come up. And there came up 40,000 brigands. They began to defy our bold hero. And the brave Cossacks spoke and hailed them. Come, you 40,000 robbers. What will you take from me, the bold hero? I have not many chests of uncounted gold. I have no beautiful young wives. I have no fine clothes. I have nothing but a good horse, a good horse which costs three hundred.

On the horse are trappings worth five hundred. On myself, a hero's gear worth a cool thousand. When he drew his iron mace of three tons weight, he began to defy the robber, and he killed the 40,000 robbers. Then the bold hero turned back, and when he reached the burning stone, he altered the writing thus,

If thou goest by this road, thou wilt not be killed. And he said, I shall go by the road to marriage. So Ilya took the second path and rode on for just 300 miles. He rode on always through the plain, that open plain, through the open plain, the green meadow, through those open plains and through green meadows, till he came to a wonderful and a strange thing. If we called it a town, it would be too small. If we called it a village, it would seem too large. But there stood a palace built of white stone. When Ilya reached the broad palace yard, there came the most beautiful young princess from the palace of white stone. She came to meet the brave hero and took him by his white hands, kissed him with her sweet lips, led him into the white stone palace, and made him sit down at the oaken table, led him into the white stone palace and made him sit down at the oaken table, where a feast was spread.

Elia ate and drank in plenty and stuffed himself the whole day long until evening, when he rose up from the oaken table and spoke to the princess and said, O thou enchanting and beautiful lady, where are thy warm sleeping chambers? Where are the beds of carved woods? Where are the soft feather beds? I am an old man and weary, and I would fain sleep. And the princess led him to a warm chamber, but the old man stood by the bed and shook his head and said, Much have I traveled through holy Russia, but so strange a thing I have never seen. It seems to me that bed is a trap. Suddenly he seized the princess by her white hands and threw her against the brick wall against which the bed stood. The bed of carved

wood turned over and the princess fell down into a deep dungeon below. The old Cossack walked out of the palace and outside he found the door of the deep dungeon. Then he took the golden keys, went on and unlocked that deep dungeon, and set free many goodly youths and brave, and many strong and mighty heroes. But the beautiful and wicked enchantress was killed. And all the rich treasure which Ilya found there in that white stone palace, he bestowed on the good youths and brave, and on the strong and mighty heroes. But that white stone palace he gave to the flames. And then our bold hero rode back again, and when he came to the burning stone, he again altered the graven letters and wrote,

By that way I went, I was not married. I go, said he, by the third path, where one will become rich. And he rode on for three hours. Three hundred miles he rode, and again he rode through the plain and open plain, the meadow, the green meadow, to a place where there was sunk deep pits in the ground, all piled up with red gold, pure silver, and fine round pearls. Elia looked at the gold and said, What has a bold hero to do with these riches, with this treasure of so much uncounted gold? He began to consider. Then he took enough treasure in this open plain to build an abbey for prayers to God.

He built a church, a minister church, ordered the singing of psalms and the ringing of bells. And then Ilya said, Let him whose treasure it was go and look for bells. And then Ilias said, let him whose treasure it was go and look for it. And then the bold hero turned back again. Again, he rode to that burning stone. Again, he wrote beneath that inscription. Though I rode by that path, I became not rich. And that's the end. And okay, one of the reasons I like a lot of these fables, And that's the end.

And, okay, one of the reasons I like a lot of these fables, they don't really map to easy things. You know, I mean, obviously it's like, oh, okay, like be humble, build churches for God, like, you know, women are traps, whatever. It's like, you know, there's like sketchy things and good things and interesting things. I sure like that he like set the palace ablaze the palace ablaze and set it to flame or whatever. What was the line? But that white stone palace he gave to the flames.

There's some Russian Revolution stuff happening there, right? But I don't know. I don't feel like it's worth thinking about. I get why people like Nightingale the robber and heroes are interesting. I get why people like superheroes. It's pretty boring when someone can just pull out their three ton mace and kill 40,000 brigands, but it makes for anticlimactic stories by my standards. But who am I to say? You should say for yourself.

And join us next week on Cool Zone Media Book Club when I read you some more stories of old or new. Who's to know? Even I don't know yet. Bye. It Could Happen Here is a production of Cool Zone Media. For more podcasts from Cool Zone Media, visit our website, coolzonemedia.com, or check us out on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to podcasts. You can find sources for It Could Happen Here updated monthly at coolzonemedia.com.

Thanks for listening. Hey, guys. I'm Kate Max. You might know me from my popular online series, The Running Interview Show, where I run with celebrities, athletes, entrepreneurs, and more. After those runs, the conversations keep going. That's what my podcast, Post Run High, is all about. It's a chance to sit down with my guests and dive even deeper into their stories, their journeys, and the thoughts that arise once we've hit the pavement together. Listen to Post Run High on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.

Curious about queer sexuality, cruising, and expanding your horizons? Hit play on the sex positive and deeply entertaining podcast, Sniffy's Cruising Confessions. Join hosts Gabe Gonzalez and Chris Patterson Rosso as they explore queer sex, cruising, relationships, and culture in the new iHeart podcast, Sniffy's Cruising Confessions. Sniffy's Cruising Confessions will broaden minds and help you pursue your true goals.

You can listen to Sniffy's Cruising Confessions, sponsored by Gilead, now on the iHeartRadio app or wherever you get your podcasts. New episodes every Thursday. Welcome to Gracias Come Again, a podcast by Honey German, where we get real and dive straight into todo lo actual y viral. We're talking música, los premios, el chisme, and all things trending in my cultura. I'm bringing you all the latest happening in our entertainment world and some fun and impactful interviews with your favorite Latin artists, comedians, actors, and influencers. Each week, we get deep and raw life stories, combos on the issues that matter to us, and it's all packed with gems, fun, straight-up comedia, and that's a song that only Nuestra Gente can sprinkle. Listen to Gracias Come Again on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.