It Could Happen Here - CZM Book Club: "The Three Trials of the Wind," by Shiv Ramdas, Part 2 of 2

Episode Date: July 14, 2024

Margaret finishes reading you a reimagining of Hindu mythology by a masterful speculative fiction author.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Hey, I'm Jack Peace Thomas, the host of a brand new Black Effect original series, Black Lit, the podcast for diving deep into the rich world of Black literature. Black Lit is for the page turners, for those who listen to audiobooks while running errands or at the end of a busy day. From thought-provoking novels to powerful poetry, we'll explore the stories that shape our culture. poetry will explore the stories that shape our culture. Listen to Black Lit on the Black Effect Podcast Network, iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. AT&T, connecting changes everything. I found out I was related to the guy that I was dating. I don't feel emotions correctly.

I collect my roommate's toenails and fingernails. Those were some callers from my call-in podcast, Therapy Gecko. It's a show where I take phone calls from anonymous strangers as a fake gecko therapist and try to learn a little bit about their lives. I know that's a weird concept, but I promise it's very interesting. Check it out for yourself by searching for Therapy Gecko 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. CoolZone Media. Book Club, Book Club! Book Club! Book Club! Welcome to the CoolZone Media Book Club, your book club that you don't have to do the reading for. This week,

I'm going to finish the story of The Trial of Three Winds by Shiv Ramdas. And it won't make any sense if you don't listen to the first part. I think. Who knows? Maybe it'll make more sense. What do I know about anything? I'm your host, Margaret Killjoy. Did I already say that? This is the Cool Zone Media Club for books. I think I told you that. You know, if this was the 19th century, it would have been a league. It would have been the Cool Zone Media Book League or the League for Cool Zone Media Books, the League for Cool Zone Media Books.

So this isn't a 19th century story. I just like when everything was named leagues. That's unrelated to anything. What is related is this story where we last left our hero, Hani. He was on the path and then he faced one of his trials. And he got his head cut off. But he didn't die because he managed to drink some immortality juice before that. Part two. He reached up, forgetting he had no body,

and hand obeyed, his own this time. He touched his neck. No wound there, although it felt a bit sore. All there, said a voice, and he turned his head to see a pair of legs in tiger print. Looking up, he found the woman's eyes glaring down at him. Hard trial, eh? Thought you'd never stop shouting.

How long has it been? asked Honey. Two days. What? Closer to three, really. How did you find me? Oh, that was the easy part. Just follow the noise. Not that I had very far to go. Only about a quarter yojana. Impossible. It's been hundreds at the very least. Her eyes twinkled. Oh, the path gets a lot shorter when you don't want a reward for walking it. Hani stood. His knee still throbbed where Raka had struck him. It seems I once again owe you my thanks, but I should be going because I'm running out of time

and it appears this path keeps growing longer. Still pretty short if you want to turn around, said the woman, but not the direction I need to go. And with that, on the third to the last day of heaven, Hani, lord of the wind, resumed his climb. This time, he made slower progress than earlier, for each step his leg ailed him a little more. At first, Hani paid it no mind, for he was grateful to have a leg at all.

But as the pain grew, so did his gratitude ebb. Was this what it was like to be mortal, this constant journey from one ache to another? Still, he persevered, hour after hour, yojana after yojana, until the pain was so great that he could no longer lift his leg but had to drag it along the ground, as the trees grew closer and closer over the path, until finally he knew that without rest, his good leg would also give out. He settled on a tree stump by the path, feeling the welcome relief in his joints, enjoying the cool air on his hot cheeks. As he sat, he saw a single gulmahar leaf break free from its green home, floating downwards. He leaned back to follow its fluttering progress.

Then he felt the embrace of soft folds of satin enveloping him. He was in another hall, this one even larger and more richly decorated than the last. Gone was the tree stump. Instead he sat on a throne in yet another Asura body, bejeweled and elegantly clothed. A massive crowd of people stood around, staring up at him with adoring eyes. This time, he couldn't move or speak. He could merely be, feeling what that body felt, looking where those eyes looked. They looked down at the foot of the throne at a dwarf. His head shaved smooth.

The dwarf spoke. What say you, King Bahaka? Will you grant my humble plea? A voice spoke, and it came from the body Hani now resided in. Three steps is nothing, Shepala. Ask for a Yojana of land, or a Kosh, and it will be yours. No, replied the dwarf. Three steps of land at a place of my choosing is all I want.

And Vamana thanks you for your generosity. Then Hani remembered and strove to cry out to warn the king to beware that it was all a trick. This was no ordinary visitor. There was no Shabala. It was Maitar himself, in the fifth avatar, here to right the balance once more. But he could not. He was powerless to do anything but wait for Bahaka to reply. Certainly, Shepala, if that is what you wish, you may have your three steps of land anywhere you want. Shepala bowed, straightened up, and began to grow, as has been written, larger and larger until he had blocked out the sky, and still he grew until his foot covered all the earth. My first step,

said Shepala. Then he lifted a leg, and with his other foot he covered the heavens. My second step. Tell me, O king, now that your kingdom belongs to me, how will you keep your promise? Where should I place my third step? And Hani found himself looking up as Bahaka tilted his head to regard Vamana. Place it on my head, Maitar, he said proudly, and Bahaka will have kept his word. Hani screamed again with no sound or success as that great foot bore down with all the weight of heaven behind it, slamming into his head with a force that made Raka's vajra

seem a mere inconvenience. His backbone twisted, snapped, and still the great foot bore down, driving his head down into his body, and further down, deep, into the earth itself, and still it pressed down with no respite at all. Hani screamed until he could scream no more, and yet the foot stayed where it was, pushing down unabated. He counted the seconds as they turned to minutes, which turned to weeks, and still the terrible force pressed down against his skull. Hani had long since given up on escape, on scaling Bahata, on finding Aknos. A hundred years went by, a hundred more, and still it bore down,

sometimes shifting, ever so often replaced by a different foot, but always there, 250 years with a heel to his head. Paradise, Raka, Aknos all faded to faint shadows, nebulous strands of a forgotten cobweb in a dark corner of history. That he forgot them no longer irked him. All was futile anyway. The only reality, that of the foot. And in time, honey came to love the foot, to draw comfort in knowing it would always be there, that no matter what happened, the foot would never abandon him, never leave him to float out into an uncertain future without its anchoring restraint.

Until suddenly it was gone and he was lying curled on the path, head leaning brokenly against the stump, watching as the gomaha leaf continued its slow spiral down to the forest floor. He tried to get up, but his legs would not obey. There was a heaviness in them, seeping through all of him, a weight, but one very different from that of the foot.

One that told him that it was finished. He had taken the second trial, and it had broken him. He would not even meet with the third. All he needed to do now was to rest, to give into the darkness that spread across his mind. And given, he did. Gave into these sweet, sweet deals. Am I right? You can get all your foot needs from our foot vendors at Cool Zone Media, where we put ad breaks and things. Here we go. I found out I was related to the guy that I was dating.

I don't feel emotions correctly. I am talking to a felon right now, and I cannot decide if I like him or not. Those were some callers from my call-in podcast, Therapy Gecko. Those were some callers from my call-in podcast, Therapy Gecko. It's a show where I take real phone calls from anonymous strangers all over the world as a fake gecko therapist and try to dig into their brains and learn a little bit about their lives. I know that's a weird concept, but I promise it's pretty interesting if you give it a shot. Matter of fact, here's a few more examples of the kinds of calls we get on this show. I live with my boyfriend and I found his piss jar in our apartment. I collect my roommate's toenails and fingernails. I have very overbearing parents. Even at the age of 29, they won't let me

move out of their house. So if you want an excuse to get out of your own head and see what's going on in someone else's head, search for Therapy Gecko on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. It's the one with the green guy on it. Hey, I'm Jack Peace Thomas, the host of a brand new Black Effect original series, Black Lit, the podcast for diving deep

into the rich world of Black literature. I'm Jack Peace Thomas, and I'm inviting you to join me in 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. Black Lit 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. Hola, mi gente. It's Honey German, and I'm bringing you Gracias, Come Again, the podcast where we dive deep into the world of Latin culture, musica, películas, and entertainment with some of the biggest names in the game.

If you love hearing real conversations with your favorite Latin celebrities, artists, and culture shifters, this is the podcast for you. We're talking real conversations with our Latin stars, from actors and artists to musicians and creators, sharing their stories, struggles, and successes. You know it's going to be filled with chisme laughs and all the vibes that you love. Each week, we'll explore everything from music and pop culture to deeper topics like identity, community, and breaking down barriers in all sorts of industries.

Don't miss out on the fun, el té caliente, and life stories. Join me for Gracias Come Again, a podcast by Honey German, where we get into todo lo actual y viral. Listen to Gracias Come Again on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. And we're back. On the next to last day of heaven, Hani, Lord of the Wind, lay where he had fallen and did not stir. Hani opened his eyes and the first thing he discovered was that his neck was broken. His head lulled to one side and try as he might, he could not move it. He could feel the pain spreading through his frame in deep, widening circles, beginning at the base of his neck,

all the way down to his knees, where all feeling stopped completely. When he attempted to shift his legs, like his neck, they refused to respond. While lying there helpless, he saw it. There it lay, at the very end of the path, at most half a yojana away, a massive black outcropping of rock, like a great lingam that had fallen over, upon which shone a large, luminous semicircle of light. The first light he'd seen since he stepped on this accursed path. Around it grew flowers, also the first he had seen, row upon row of them, curving around the light.

In the middle, at the center of the flowers, sat a woman in her tiger-skin tracksuit. She was smiling, beckoning him to come to her. Then Hani knew, knew it as surely as he knew himself, that his ordeals were over. Everything would be all right now. All he needed to do was to reach her, even if the only part of him that was working was his arms. was to reach her, even if the only part of him that was working was his arms. And so Hani, god of the wind, began dragging himself on his belly towards the light, inch by agonizing inch, minute after torturous minute. Hours passed. Several times he lost consciousness. Each time he woke up and resumed pulling himself forward once more. His forearms were a raw mass of flesh, his fingernails long since ripped out,

dusty fingers encrusted with dried black blood, eyes watering from the combination of sweat and dirt. Then he was there, finally, mercifully, at the rock with the semicircle of light on which she sat. Only she was gone, and it was no rock. It was a toe, a colossal toe, and what had appeared to be light was in fact the nail. A haze stretched its web over his mind. The darkness was returning, stronger. Come with me, it said, and Hani was almost ready to acquiesce.

it said, and Hani was almost ready to acquiesce. Almost. With the very last of his strength, Hani gripped at what he thought was a rock with fingers of bloody meat and swung himself up. On the last day of heaven, the broken god Hani laid his forehead on Aknos' toe. All around Hani, the earth and the grass and the rocks and the air ummed and vibrated together, and the sound they made was the voice of Aknos. Little wind god, you have come a long way. Hani lay there, unable to speak, for there was nothing left in him but the faintest spark, watching itself blink out of existence. From somewhere far above, a great hand came down. A finger touched Hani's head, and he felt the golden glow of life burn within him again, muscle and sinew knitting back into place. He still lacked the strength to do anything but stand.

But stand he did, as befits a god. Forgive me, my lord, he said, for I have failed to take the third trial. The earth and rocks and grass and air all around shimmered once more, and Achnos was gone, and in his place once again sat the woman in the tiger-print tracksuit. Yet here you are, all the same. Speak. Are you here to claim claim your boon he bowed his head in assent what was it again anything in my power was it not i really must stop making that promise all right what will it be and in that moment with the task he had suffered so much for finally at an end with fulfillment of his purpose one sentence away. All he had to do now was utter the words. He opened his mouth to answer, and he found he could

not. They would not emerge even as he searched himself in vain for his dharma, his duty to his king. It was in there somewhere, yet it eluded him like golden drops of rasa from a time both eons past and yesterday, tantalizingly out of reach. He opened his mouth and shut it again, opened it once more, then shook his head. I'm not hearing a request. The Apanas have no answer to the Asura advance. They have tried, to the last of them, and they have failed. They? Shouldn't you be saying, he opened his mouth and shut it again. We? Aren't you an Apana? It had been so very long since he'd set out, home so very

far away, and long ago, that it now felt like just another stop on the journey here to this moment. on the journey here to this moment. Well? And under that gaze, Hani found himself giving voice to the dark shadow nestling in his heart, to the thoughts he feared to utter, even to himself ever since the churning. When I set out, I was.

And now? He hesitated. I know not what I am, only that it is not what I would be. Does this person not want me to destroy all creation for Raka's glory? Or did you think your task a secret from me? Hani said nothing. He dared not, even as reality shimmered again and the mighty form of the destroyer loomed over him once more. A silence pressed down hard and cold, a silence to last an eternity or a moment, no telling if either was any different.

Akno spoke again and Pahata itself trembled at that terrible voice. Speak, Hani. Does Raka wish me to end all creation so that he may feel victorious, or will the extinction of merely all the Asura race suffice? And that's not something we sell, but we do sell other stuff, like these ads. We don't actually sell you the products of the ads. We actually sell the advertising space, which we have no control over what they sell.

Y'all probably figured that out a while ago. Here's the ads. I found out I was related to the guy that I was dating. I don't feel emotions correctly. I am talking to a felon right now, and I cannot decide if I like him or not. Those were some callers from my call-in podcast, Therapy Gecko. It's a show where I take real phone calls from anonymous strangers all over the world as a fake gecko therapist and try to dig into their brains and learn a little bit about their lives. I know that's a weird concept, but I promise it's pretty interesting if you give it a shot.

Matter of fact, here's a few more examples of the kinds of calls we get on this show. I live with my boyfriend and I found his piss jar in our apartment. I collect my roommate's toenails and fingernails. I have very overbearing parents. Even at the age of 29, they won't let me move out of their house. So if you want an excuse to get out of your own head and see what's going on in someone else's head, search for Therapy Gecko on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. It's the one with the green guy on it. Hey, I'm Jack Peace Thomas, the host of a brand new Black Effect original series, Black Lit, the podcast for diving deep into the rich world of Black literature.

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. Black Lit 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. Hi, I'm Ed Zitron, host of the Better Offline podcast, and we're kicking off our second season digging into how tech's elite has turned Silicon Valley into a playground for billionaires. From the chaotic world of generative AI 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, or wherever else you get your podcasts. Check out betteroffline.com. And we're back. Hani hung his head, staring down at his toes.

Neither a great one. They've done nothing but engage as per the rules and means that Raka himself demanded. When Raka wins, then all means are just. When he does not, it is called a dharma. Are you saying you no longer wish me to save paradise, Hani? Hani hesitated, feeling the words build up, smashing against the inside of his lips, yearning to be free.

Until they would be held back no longer, but burst forth, and as each one emerged, Honey knew it to be true. No, great one, because paradise requires no saving. Once again, a silence that lasted forever or a moment, unbreakable save,

but by the voice of Aknos. Finally, yes, it is not paradise that you were sent here to save, but Raka, Raka who calls himself king of heaven, yet flees to the preserver in the name of balance every time his strength is tested. He sent you to me so that he and his ilk will not lose what was first stolen and then squandered. But my lord, said Hani, and his voice quavered as he spoke, would the preserver ever be

unjust? Just? The preserver is not concerned with justice, only with keeping things as they are. Justice does not come from above, Hani. It comes from those who would seek it in the here and now. Raka searched for the preserver time and time again and knew not why he could not find him, because he has been here all along. The great hand ascended again, colossal fingers unfurled, and in its palm lay a thin, worn figure, curled up with skin of unmistakable blue.

My lord, cried Hani, can it be? How has this come to pass? And the voice of Aknos was heard again. Because each time Raka invoked the balance, it weakened the preserver a little more. Until the day came when he had no power left. Until even the illusion of balance was gone. And all that was left was Raka's desires. And when that day came, Raka ceased

to seek balance and instead sent you here seeking destruction. He has drunk so deeply of the chalice of his hubris that he sought to use not just God's, but creation himself, just to have his way. not just God's, but creation himself, just to have his way. I no longer believe in his way. Why not? I do not know. You do. Do you remember, as you called it, the foot? Hani didn't answer. He had no need to. They both knew he remembered it very well. Or to give it the name by which creation knows it. Raka's balance. A balance you felt for what it truly was. A scale where he and his kind sit borne aloft on one end

while all the weight rests on the other. But how, my lord? The scriptures and songs and stories, they all say something else. Whose scriptures are those? Who tells those stories? But my lord, the things of which you speak have been since creation itself. And does that mean they must be true?

Tradition does not bestow virtue or truth, only age. And Hani of the woken mind knew that this was true too. Every word Akno said was true. He shivered as though an invisible cloak had worn out without ever realizing it had now been cast off, leaving him cold, defenseless and vulnerable for the first time. So the answer to Raka's request is no, as it would have been even if you had asked it of me. I offered you a boon, not Raka. Hani hung his head. That leaves but one thing, the boon I promised you, for all who journey to me shall ask me of what they desire. Another silence, one that stretched across eternity.

What is yours? Hani fell to his knees, trembling. Finally, he spoke. To make right, Lord. Nay, not right, for yugas of wrongdoing can never be made right. But grant me the strength to do what I must, to make what reparation I can. And if I do, what of you? That is also no longer part of this story, my lord. And Okno smiled, a smile very different from the one Hani had grown accustomed to seeing. It was warm, gentle, and the very sight of it sent new strength flooding through his limbs. Now you have passed the final trial. So be it. I grant you a boon, little wind god. Now do what Raka asks you to. Fly to him. My lord? For too long has the balance been weighted

on one side alone. Heaven will not cease to be heaven if there is no Raka. It is merely Raka who will cease to be Raka without heaven. So itqa. It is merely Raqqa who will cease to be Raqqa without heaven. So it shall be. You shall return home to paradise, but you will not return alone. Let it guide you and fly you back over the fallen walls of paradise so that you may plant it hilt deep in the chest of Raqqa and give him the destruction he so deeply craves. And without him and his vision of heaven, perhaps there'll be a better one. Rise, Hani, instrument of my will, and hold out your hand.

Hani obeyed, saw the trident falling into his outstretched hand. He felt it pulse, power coursing through him, power as he had never imagined, enclosing them both in a shimmering white glow. In the last hour of heaven, Hani, servant of Aknos, breaker of the balance, sword up into the sky, trishul in hand, although he no longer knew which was him and which was

the trishul, they were one, an incandescent white-hot ray of will, racing towards paradise and the heart of a king. Until the last moment of heaven, the great god Raka, waiting for the end, never saw it coming. But the end of the story came just now,

because the story is now over. So, I really like this story, and I like it more each time I read it. Partly because I understand it a little bit more each time I read it, because it's not a mythology that I was previously familiar with. But I asked Shiv what he wanted to say about it to you all. And this is what Shiv told me. The story is a sort of interrogation of mythology as well as an exploration of how it changes with shifts in perspective. To that end, it takes two well-known stories about two separate avatars of

Vishnu and sort of recontextualizes them and examines what happens to the foundations of what they say when we do that. And as a result, it ends up being a commentary on a fair few things, from the importance of isolating viewpoint from vantage point, to various other sociological and maybe even psychological aspects of how that plays across the human condition. But the whys and whats and hows of those are perhaps best left for a reader to interpret within their own frameworks, because isn't that the whole point of telling a story? Okay. And Shiv, that makes a lot of sense to me. But I'm not the writer. I'm one of the readers. And so I'm going to offer my frameworks and not my own contextualizations, but like my own thoughts on it, right? Because

it's a book club. And that's what we do here at book club is sometimes I tell you how I think about things. And oh, God oh god I mean it's so hard to say things besides just like well I like it but I also I find it to be just this amazing commentary on what's happening in India right now where you have this Hindu nationalism that is almost like beyond Islamophobic right like it's basically Nazis they're really into Hitler the people who just lost a little bit of power compared to what they have had for the past, what, eight years or something. I don't have my notes in front of me, but you know, it's been a while. India's went far right. And honestly, in general, I think the West would do

well to pay attention to India because two of the things that are most pressing in our lifetimes is the rise of nationalism, fascism, right? And also climate change. And probably the place with the highest population density, where those things are hitting really hard right now, is India. And things are real bad. But I really like how this story takes all this mythology and it turns it on its head without stopping being mythology. It's not like, ha ha ha, gods are dumb, fuck you. But instead it's like, hey, all of these stories, all of these traditions, first of all, tradition doesn't mean anything except that it's old. What they say instead instead of like ha ha ha we tricked those people because we're clever and good and children of light and everyone else is bad you know and

we're like dealing with this thing right now obviously i don't know whether this is what shift was thinking about or not during it but you know obviously the sort of fear of the other and the fear of islam is like huge right now in India. And here are these stories about how actually we could all work together. All you got to do is like not be a dick and don't trick people the whole time. But instead, like together, we can churn the sea and bring up the nectar of divinity and all become gods if we just work together and that's pretty cool i don't know if i need to be a god personally but like metaphorically

fuck yeah let's work together and also i like how the recontextualization is just like well what if you were like literally on the other side of this you know what if you were on the other team, how would that seem? So I like this story. And here at the end of it, I want to plug a few things. I want to plug a short story that I haven't read yet. I basically was like, hey, Shiv, what should I plug at the end of this? And there's a short story called Bhatia P.I. B-A-H-T-I-A. And then-I as in private investigator and it's in Lightspeed magazine and it's kind of a prequel to Shiv's current work in progress novel so you all should check that out

I will also I want to plug if you're listening to this on one of the two podcast feeds it's on, you should check out the other one, if you're listening to this on It Could Happen Here, you should try listening to Cool People Did Cool Stuff. I tell history stories every week, twice a week, Monday and Wednesdays. Well, it's one story. It's split over two parts because it's so good. And then also,

if you're listening to this on Cool People Did Cool Stuff, you should check out It Could Happen Here, which keeps up with current events. But I obviously really like fiction too. And you probably do too, unless you listen to this by accident. In which case, how'd you make it this far? Proud of you. Good job, buddy. Good job. 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 slash sources. Thanks for listening. Hey, I'm Jacqueline Thomas, the host of a brand new Black Effect original series, Black Lit, the podcast for diving deep into the rich world of Black literature.

Black Lit is for the page turners, for those who listen to audiobooks while running errands or at the end of a busy day. From thought-provoking novels to powerful poetry, we'll explore the stories that shape our culture. Listen to Black Lit on the Black Effect Podcast Network, iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. AT&T. Connecting changes everything. I found out I was related to the guy that I was dating. I don't feel emotions correctly. I collect my roommate's toenails and fingernails.

Those were some callers from my call-in podcast, Therapy Gecko. It's a show where I take phone calls from anonymous strangers as a fake gecko therapist and try to learn a little bit about their lives. I know that's a weird concept, but I promise it's very interesting. Check it out for yourself by searching for Therapy Gecko 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.