It Could Happen Here - CZM Book Club: "The Vampire Maid" by Hume Nisbet

Episode Date: October 27, 2024

Margaret reads you a story in which vampires serve as a metaphor for yet another thing, because vampires are cool.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

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. The 2025 iHeart Podcast Awards are coming. This is the chance to nominate your podcast for the industry's biggest award. Submit your podcast for nomination now at iHeart.com slash podcast awards. But hurry, submissions close on December 8th. Hey, you've been doing all that talking. It's time to get rewarded for it. Submit your podcast today at iHeart.com slash podcast awards.

That's iHeart.com slash podcast awards. Hi, I'm Ed Zitron, host of the Better Offline podcast, and we're kicking off our second season digging into tech's elite and how they've 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 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. 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.

On Thanksgiving Day, 1999, five-year-old Cuban boy Elian Gonzalez was found off the coast of Florida. And the question was, should the boy go back to his father in Cuba? Mr. Gonzalez wanted to go home, and he wanted to take his son with him. Or stay with his relatives in Miami? Imagine that your mother died trying to get you to freedom. Listen to Chess Peace, the Elian Gonzalez story, on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Spooky Week. Spooky Week.

Spooky Week. Spooky Week. Hello, and welcome to Spooky Week on Cool Zone Media Book Club. I'm your host, Margaret Kildroy, and every week, I read you a story. And this week, well, this whole month, I'm reading you spooky stories. And today's spooky story...

Okay, I'm really excited about it. You're gonna say that every week. I'm still excited about it. I'm excited about it every week, or I wouldn't... Anyway, whatever. So, you know how I like reading to you about vampires? Well, one of my favorite things about vampires is that it's like every vampire story is a different metaphor.

When you go back far enough, when you read the newer stuff, they get a little samey-samey, right? But I've read to you about vampires that represent the idle rich siphoning the life force out of people who actually work. And I've read to you about, well, another rich group, the aristocrats in general, and the like sort of playboy Lord Byron type that goes around and siphons out everyone's life energy. And I'm going to read you a story that represents vampires as a different metaphor. And we'll see if you can figure out what kind it is.

Because I'm going to read to you Hume Nisbet's The Vampire Maid, first published in the year of our Lord, 1900. And I got sucked into the story because it opens with a traveling artist. And I can identify with that because I'm currently on tour. I guess I've said that a lot. But more than that, it's because I used to travel full time. And I don't know. There's like a lot I resonate with in this story.

So, The Vampire Maid by Hume Nisbet. It was the exact kind of abode that I had been looking after for weeks, for I was in that condition of mind when absolute renunciation of society was a necessity. I had become diffident of myself, and wearied of my kind. A strange unrest was in my blood, a barren dearth in my brains. Familiar objects and faces had grown distasteful to me. I wanted to be alone. This is the mood which comes upon every sensitive and artistic mind when the possessor has been overworked and living too long in one groove. It is nature's hint for him to seek pastures new, the sign that a retreat has become needful.

If he does not yield, he breaks down and becomes whimsical and hypochondrical, as well as hypocritical. It is always a bad sign when a man becomes overcritical and censorious about his own or other people's work, for it means that he is losing vital portions of work, freshness, and enthusiasm. Before I arrived at the dismal stage of criticism, I hastily packed up my knapsack, taking the train to Westmoreland, and I began my tramp in search of solitude, bracing air, and romantic surroundings. Many places I came upon during that early summer wandering that appeared to have almost the required conditions, yet some petty drawback prevented me from deciding. Sometimes it was the scenery that I did not take kindly to.

At other places I took sudden antipathies to the landlady or landlord, and felt I would abhor them before a week was spent under their charge. Other places which might have suited me I could not have, their charge. Other places which might have suited me, I could not have, as they did not want a lodger. Fate was driving me to this cottage on the moor, and no one can resist destiny. One day, I found myself on a wide and pathless moor near the sea. I had slept the night before at a small hamlet, but that was already eight miles in my rear, and since I had turned my back upon it, I had not seen any signs of humanity. I was alone with a fair sky above me, a balmy, ozone-filled wind blowing over the stony and heather-clad mounds, and nothing to disturb my meditations. How far the moor stretched I had no knowledge. I only knew that by keeping in a

straight line I would come to the ocean cliffs and perhaps after a time arrive at some fishing village. I had provisions in my knapsack and being young did not fear a night under the stars. I was inhaling the delicious summer air and once more getting back the vigor and happiness I had lost. My city-dried brains were again becoming juicy. Thus, hour after hour slid past me with the paces, until I had covered about fifteen miles since morning, when I saw before me in the distance a solitary, stone-built cottage with a roughly slated roof. I'll camp there if possible, I said to myself as I quickened my step towards it. To one in search of a quiet, free life, nothing could possibly have been more suitable than this cottage.

It stood on the edge of lofty cliffs, with its front door facing the moor and the backyard wall overlooking the ocean. The sound of the dancing waves struck upon my ears like a lullaby as I drew near. How they would thunder when the autumn gales came on, and the seabirds fled shrieking to the shelter of the sedges. A small garden spread in front, surrounded by a dry stone wall just high enough for one to lean lazily upon when inclined. The garden was a flame of color, scarlet predominating, with those other soft shades that cultivated poppies take on in their blooming. For this was all the garden grew. That, and of course, it also grew whatever our sponsors are selling you. Because whatever is next also grows in a garden.

It just might be a metaphorical garden. It might be a terrible garden. But who knows? You'll find out. Hey, I'm Jack B. 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. 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. 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, peliculas, 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. Hi, I'm Ed Zitron, host of the Better Offline podcast, and we're kicking off our second season digging into how Tex 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, wherever else you get your podcasts. Check out betteroffline.com. On Thanksgiving Day 1999, a five-year-old boy floated alone in the ocean.

He had lost his mother trying to reach Florida from Cuba. He looked like a little angel. I mean, he looked so fresh. And his name, Elian Gonzalez, will make headlines everywhere. Elian Gonzalez. Elian. Elian. Elian.

Elian. Elian. Elian Gonzalez. At the heart of the story is a young boy and the question of who he belongs with. His father in Cuba. Mr. Gonzales wanted to go home and he wanted to take his son with him. Or his relatives in Miami. Imagine that your mother died trying to get you to freedom.

At the heart of it all is still this painful family separation. Something that as a Cuban, I know all too well. Listen to Chess Peace, the Elian Gonzalez story as part of the My Cultura podcast network available on the iHeart radio app, Apple podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Hey, I'm Gianna Parente. And I'm Jimei Jackson-Gadsden. We're the hosts of Let's Talk Offline, the early career podcast from LinkedIn News and iHeart Podcasts. One of the most exciting things about having your first real job is that first real paycheck.

You're probably thinking, yay, I can finally buy a new phone. But you also have a lot of questions like, how should I be investing this money? I mean, how much do I save? And what about my 401k? Well, we're talking with finance expert Vivian Tu, aka Your Rich BFF, to break it all down. I always get roasted on the internet when I say this out loud, but I'm like, every single year, you need to be asking for a raise

of somewhere between 10 to 15%. I'm not saying you're gonna get 15% every single year, but if you ask for 10 to 15 and you end up getting eight, that is actually a true raise. Listen to this week's episode of Let's Talk Offline on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. And we're back. As I approached, taking notice of the singular assortment of poppies and the orderly cleanness of the windows, the front door opened and a woman appeared who impressed me at once favorably

as she leisurely came along the pathway to the gate and drew it back as if to welcome me. She was of middle age, and when young, must have been remarkably good-looking. She was tall and still shapely, with smooth, clear skin, regular features, and a calm expression that at once gave me a sensation of rest. To my inquiries, she said she could give me both a sitting and a bedroom, and invited me inside to see them. As I looked at her smooth black hair and cool brown eyes, I felt that I would not be too particular about the accommodation.

With such a landlady, I was sure to find what I was after here. The room surpassed my expectation. Dainty white curtains and bedding with the soft perfume of lavender about them, a sitting room, homely, yet cozy, without being crowded. With a sigh of infinite relief, I flung down my knapsack and clinched the bargain. She was a widow with one daughter, whom I did not see the first day, as she was unwell and confined to her own room. But on the next day, she was somewhat better, and then we met. The fare was simple, yet it suited me exactly for the time. Delicious milk and butter, with homemade scones, fresh eggs and bacon. After a hearty tea,

I went early to bed in a condition of perfect content with my quarters. Yet, happy and tired out as I was, I had by no means a comfortable night. This I put down to the strange bed. I slept certainly, but my sleep was filled with dreams, so that I woke up late and unrefreshed. A good walk on the moor, however, restored me, and I returned with a fine appetite for breakfast. Certain conditions of mind with aggravating circumstances are required before even a young man can fall in love at first sight, as Shakespeare has shown in his Romeo and Juliet. In the city, where many fair faces passed me every hour, I had remained like a stoic, yet no sooner did I enter the

cottage after that morning walk than I succumbed instantly before the weird charms of my landlady's daughter, Ariadne Brunel. She was somewhat better this morning and able to meet me at breakfast, for we had our meals together while I was their lodger. Ariadne was not beautiful in the strictly classical sense, her complexion being too lividly white, and her expression too set to be quite pleasant at first sight. Yet, as her mother had informed me, she had been ill for some time, which accounted for that defect. Her features were not regular, her hair and eyes seemed too black for that strangely white skin, and her lips too red for any except the decadent harmonies of an Aubrey Beardsley.

Yet my fantastic dreams of the preceding night, with my morning walk, had prepared me to be enthralled by this modern, poster-like invalid. The loneliness of the moor, with the singing of the ocean, had gripped my heart with a wistful longing. The incongruity of those flaunting and evanescent poppy flowers, dashing the giddy tints in the face of that sober heath, touched me with a shiver as I approached the cottage, and lastly that weird embodiment of startling contrasts completed my subjugation. embodiment of startling contrasts completed my subjugation. She rose from her chair as her mother introduced her, and smiled while she held out her hand.

I clasped that soft white snowflake, and as I did so, a faint thrill tingled over me and rested on my heart, stopping for the moment, its beating. This contact seemed to have also affected her as it did me. A clear flush, like a white flame, lighted up her face so that it glowed as if an alabaster lamp had been lit. Her black eyes became softer and more humid as our glances crossed, and her scarlet lips grew moist. She was a living woman now, while before she had seemed half a corpse. She permitted her white slender hand to remain in mine longer than most people do at an introduction, and then she slowly withdrew it, still regarding me with steadfast eyes for a second or two afterwards. Fathomless velvety eyes these were, yet before they were shifted from mine they

appeared to have absorbed all my willpower and made me her abject slave. They looked like deep dark pools of clear water, yet they filled me with fire and deprived me of strength. I sank into my chair almost as languidly as I had risen from my bed that morning. Yet I made a good breakfast, and although she hardly tasted anything, this strange girl rose much refreshed and with a slight glow of color on her cheeks, which improved her so greatly that she appeared younger and almost beautiful. I had come here seeking solitude, but since I had seen Ariadne, it seemed as if I had come for her only. She was not very lively, indeed, thinking back I cannot recall any spontaneous remark of hers. She answered my questions by monosyllables and left me to lead in words,

yet she was so insinuating and appeared to lead my thoughts in her direction and speak to me with her eyes. I cannot describe her minutely. I only know that from the first glance and touch she gave me, I was bewitched and could think of nothing else. It was a rapid, distracting, devouring infatuation that possessed me. All day long I followed her about like a dog. me. All day long I followed her about like a dog. Every night I dreamed of that white glowing face, those steadfast black eyes, those moist scarlet lips, and each morning I rose more languid than I had been the day before. Sometimes I dreamed that she was kissing me with those red lips, while I shivered at the contact of her silky black tresses as they covered my throat.

Here you go! 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 Black Lit 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, peliculas, 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. 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, wherever else you get your podcasts. Check out betteroffline.com. else you get your podcasts. Check out betteroffline.com. On Thanksgiving Day, 1999, a five-year-old boy floated alone in the ocean. He had lost his mother trying to reach Florida from Cuba. He looked like a little angel. I mean, he looked so fresh. And his name, Elian Gonzalez, will make headlines everywhere. Elian Gonzalez. Elian. Elian. Elian. El will make headlines everywhere. Elian Gonzalez. Elian. Elian.

Elian. Elian. Elian. Elian Gonzalez. At the heart of the story is a young boy and the question of who he belongs with. His father in Cuba. Mr. Gonzalez wanted to go home and he wanted to take his son with him. Or his relatives in Miami.

Imagine that your mother died trying to get you to freedom. At the heart of it all is still this painful family separation. Something that as a Cuban, I know all too well. Listen to Chess Peace, the Elian Gonzalez story, as part of the My Cultura podcast network, available on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. about having your first real job is that first real paycheck. You're probably thinking, yay, I can finally buy a new phone. But you also have a lot of questions like, how should I be investing this money? I mean, how much do I save? And what about my 401k? Well, we're talking with finance expert Vivian Toot, aka Your Rich BFF, to break it all down. I always get roasted on the internet when I say this out loud, but I'm like,

every single year you need to be asking for a raise of somewhere between 10 to 15%. I'm not saying you're going to get 15% every single year, but if you ask for 10 to 15 and you end up getting eight, that is actually a true raise. Listen to this week's episode of Let's Talk Offline on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. And we're back. She went with me after breakfast on that first day to the moor. And before we came back, I had spoken my love and received her assent. I held her in my arms and had taken her kisses in answer to mine.

Nor did I think it strange that all this had happened so quickly. She was mine, or rather I was hers, without a pause. I told her it was fate that had sent me to her, or I had no doubts about my love, and she replied that I had restored her to life. Acting upon Ariadne's advice and also from a natural shyness, it did not inform her mother how quickly matters had progressed between us. Yet although we both acted as circumspectly as possible, I had no doubt Mrs. Brunel could see how engrossed we were in each other. Lovers are not unlike ostriches in their modes of

concealment. I was not afraid of asking Mrs. Burnell for her daughter, for she was already showing her partiality towards me, and had bestowed upon me some confidences regarding her own position in life, and I therefore knew that, so far as social position was concerned, there could be no real objection to our marriage. They lived in this lonely spot for the sake of their health, and kept no servant because they could not get any to take service so far away from other humanity. My coming had been opportune and welcome to both mother and daughter. For the sake of decorum, however, I resolved to delay my confession for a week or two, and trust to some

favorable opportunity of doing it discreetly. Meanwhile, Ariadne and I passed our time in a thoroughly idle and lotus-eating style. Each night I retired to my bed meditating, starting work next day. Each morning I rose languid from those disturbing dreams with no thought for anything outside my love. She grew stronger every day, while I appeared to be taking her place as the invalid. Yet I was more frantically in love than ever, and only happy when with her. She was my lone star, my only joy, my life. We did not go great distances, for I liked best to lie on the dry heath and watch her glowing face and intense eyes while I listened to the surging of the distant waves.

It was love made me lazy, I thought, for unless a man has all he longs for beside him, he is apt to copy the domestic cat and bask in the sunshine. I had been enchanted quickly. My disenchantment came as rapidly, although it was long before the poison left my blood. One night, about a couple weeks after my coming to the cottage, I had returned after a delicious moonlight walk with Ariadne. The night was warm and the moon at the full, therefore I left my bedroom window open to let in what little air there was. I was more than usually fagged out, so that I had only strength enough to remove my boots and coat before I flung myself wearily on the coverlet and fell almost instantly asleep,

without tasting the nightcap draft that was constantly placed on the night table, and which I had always drained thirstily. I had a ghastly dream this night. I thought I saw a monster bat, with the face and tresses of Ariadne, fly into the open window and fasten its white teeth and scarlet lips on my arm. I tried to beat the horror away, but could not, for I seemed chained down and thralled also with drowsy delight as the beast sucked my blood with a gruesome rapture. I looked out dreamily and saw a line of dead bodies of young men lying on the floor, each with a red mark on their arms, on the same part where the vampire was then sucking me,

and I remembered having seen and wondered at such a mark on my own arm the past fortnight. In a flash, I understood the reason for my strange weakness, and at the same moment, a sudden prick of pain roused me from my dreamy pleasure. The vampire in her eagerness had bitten a little too deeply that night, unaware I had not tasted the drug draft. As I woke, I saw her fully revealed by the midnight moon, with her black tresses flowing loosely, with her red lips glued to my arm. With a shriek of horror, I dashed her backwards, getting one last glimpse of her savage eyes, glowing white face and blood-stained red lips then i rushed out to the night moved on by

my fear and hatred nor did i pause in my mad flight until i had left miles between me and that accursed cottage on the moor the end so okay i like that story god i always say the same thing i always say i like that story for a lot of reasons. And then I tell you the reasons. But I guess that's just the format of the show, that the reasons I like the thing. Okay, so by the time I was about two thirds of the way through, I was like, oh, this is about drugs. And I was like, oh, this is kind of cool. I mean, like, you know, I don't do drugs. I don't recommend other people do drugs, do drugs i don't recommend other people do drugs but also they don't deserve to be literally demonized right but i just find it interesting when there's like a new way that well maybe it's not new it's new to me it's 124 years old the very least i like when there's new metaphors about

what vampirism means and what different monsters and demons mean and i like how vampires are just like there's just so many things that they've been. And when I was reading it, the first sign was, I was like, why do they only grow poppies? And I was like, oh, maybe this doesn't reference anything. Maybe just poppies are really common in like Scotland or wherever this takes place. The author is Scottish, although he mostly writes about Australia because he spent some time there. But, you know know so i'm like okay maybe it's just people grow poppies and poppies are really pretty and i'm like but i don't know i mean like you know opium's a thing and then by the time it talks about them living

like lotus eaters and i'm like oh i love weird old timey ways of talking about like altered states of mind and stuff. And then like a little later, I was like, huh, like biting him on the arm. Like usually it's the neck. And I'm like, oh, yeah, it's about drugs. And that's interesting to me. I don't know. I mean, like some of y'all might know more about most people know more drugs than me.

But I just think it's interesting. It's still doing the same thing, right? You know, it's representing the vampire drug person as a woman. But it's like most vampires doing the draining of people's life forces aren't women. I don't think that that's like a specifically misogynistic trope. I think I'm more drawn to stories about women personally. But, you know, if y'all listen back long enough, you can hear me reading The Vampire by Polidari, which is the first recognizably vampire story of an aristocrat in history. And it was written about a man who was

going around and draining people's life forces. And just like, yeah, the idea that one person grows strong while the other person grows weak has like a certain just like hauntingness to it it's really funny me that like vampires so much because i am so squeamish and do not like blood and like i struggle to watch vampire movies because they're like bloody you know which makes sense because vampires need blood but that's why it would be so hard to decide whether or not to become a vampire i'd be like but if i become a vampire i get all these superpowers and i feel like morally obliged that if i was asked to become a vampire i feel morally obliged to say yes right because how better to serve turning the world into a better place than the ability to live a really long time and have all

of these powers and be able to, you know, accomplish a lot of things. This is my way of saying if I was a vampire, I'd totally eat cops. But, you know, it'd be really hard because I'm squeamish. Anyway, that's, oh my god, that's the end of spooky month. Don't worry, I'll bring you more spooky anyway. I'm not done yet. There's so much more spooky. Every day is Halloween. 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. 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. The 2025 iHeart Podcast Awards are coming. This is the chance to nominate your podcast for the industry's biggest award. Submit your podcast for nomination now at iHeart.com slash podcast awards. But hurry, submissions close on December 8th. Hey, you've been doing all that talking. It's time to get rewarded for it. Submit your podcast today at iHeart.com slash podcast awards.

That's iHeart.com slash podcast awards. Welcome to Gracias Come Again, a podcast by Honey German, where we get real and dive straight into We're talking music, and all things trending in my culture. 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. Hi, I'm Ed Zitron, host of the Better Offline podcast. And we're kicking off our second season digging into tech's elite and how they've 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 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.

On Thanksgiving Day, 1999, five-year-old Cuban boy Elian Gonzalez was found off the coast of Florida. And the question was, should the boy go back to his father in Cuba? Mr. Gonzalez wanted to go home and he wanted to take his son with him. Or stay with his relatives in Miami. Imagine that your mother died trying to get you to freedom. Listen to Chess Peace, the Elian Gonzalez story on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.