So Supernatural - THE UNKNOWN: Taos Hum

Episode Date: March 14, 2025

Beginning in the early 90s, residents of Taos, New Mexico, began noticing a mysterious and constant hum. While the sound was perceived differently by everyone – all the residents who could hear it agreed – it was loud, disturbing, and driving them mad. Despite an extensive investigation, the source of the hum remains unknown, but theories range from psychological, to government experiment, to spiritual forces.  Listen to CONSPIRACY: MK Ultra here, or wherever you listen to podcasts! For a full list of sources, please visit: sosupernaturalpodcast.com/the-unknown-taos-hum So Supernatural is an audiochuck and Crime House production. Find us on social!Instagram: @sosupernatualpodTwitter: @_sosupernaturalFacebook: /sosupernaturalpod

We all go through those phases in life where sleep just doesn't come easy, right? Maybe it's tomorrow's massive to-do list racing through your mind, or that true crime doc you watched just right before bed. Or the creaking of old pipes that somehow always manages to convince you that maybe, just maybe, your house might be haunted after all. But for the people of Taos, New Mexico, your house might be haunted after all. But for the people of Taos, New Mexico, there's one eerie thing that keeps them lying awake at night. And it's not something you'd ever expect.

It doesn't have a face or a name. It doesn't even have a point of origin from what we can tell. It is a dull, low-frequency hum, one that's been driving hundreds of residents bonkers since at least the 1990s. And when it was put to the test by some of the nation's biggest laboratories, even they couldn't get to the bottom of it. It left many residents wondering, is this a psychological phenomenon? A top secret government project? Or is there something more supernatural going on?

And the creepiest part is, it's not just in New Mexico. Hums like this are being reported all over the world. I'm Ashley Flowers, and we're back again for another episode of So Supernatural. ["So Supernatural Theme"] Welcome back to So Supernatural. I'm Rasha Pecorero. And I'm Yvette Gentile. And today we're discussing the Taos Hum.

It's a persistent rumbling sound, or maybe a physical vibration, that can be heard around Taos, New Mexico. Nobody knows where the sound comes from, what's causing it, or how to stop it. And it's possible that may be by design, because some believe the Towsum is part of a top-secret military experiment, and everyday citizens are the guinea pigs. Okay, so before we get into it today, Yvette, I want to try an exercise. For those of you listening right now, in just a moment, let's have you hit pause on this episode and take the next few seconds to really listen to all of the sounds around you.

Are you ready? Go for it. Okay, so what did you hear just now? Maybe the hum of your air conditioner, the buzz of the fridge, or a neighbor mowing the lawn? If you're driving, did you hear the rush of passing cars or maybe a dog barking in the distance? The point here is there's sound all around us all the time.

I mean, even if you were in a completely quiet room, you still wouldn't be in total silence. You'd be able to hear your own breathing, maybe even the blood pumping through your veins. Generally speaking, it's impossible to be in a place that's totally free of any ambient noise. Still, that doesn't mean we can't strive for at least a little peace and quiet, which was all the Saltzman family wanted back in the early 1980s. They were looking for a home that was far away from the hustle and bustle of the big city, somewhere to unwind, get in touch with nature, and live a peaceful life. They decided to move to Taos, New Mexico, a remote town that's pretty far off the beaten path.

At the time, it had a population of about 24,000 people. Now, a lot of us picture the desert when we hear the words New Mexico, right? But Taos is in a very mountainous part of the state. And its main claim to fame is a ski resort and a beautiful landscape. Plus it's home to Taos Pueblo, a collection of ancient adobe homes where the indigenous Pueblo people used to live.

I've never been there, but I have heard that it's absolutely beautiful, and it's become a vacation destination for a lot of celebrities who want to get out of the limelight and tourists who just want to relax. And for hippies who want to get off the grid, there's a thriving community of new, agey artists too, people who like the idea of communing with nature and pushing boundaries. Which is exactly why Taos was really appealing to Katanya Saltzman and her husband Bob. See Katanya was a dancer and Bob was a photographer. So they blended right in with the creative crowd in Taos.

When they moved there in the early 1980s, they designed their own home, perched on the side of a mountain where it was snowy, peaceful and secluded. In the blink of an eye, ten years have passed, and by all accounts, it's been a beautiful life filled with beautiful memories. But then, after roughly a decade of peace and quiet, Catania starts hearing something in and around her property. She first notices it in May of 1991. It's this persistent, ongoing rumble, almost like a big truck idling in the street. And it's loud. Loud enough to keep her up when she's trying to sleep. And like so loud, it's hard for her to tune out when she's trying to read a book

or watch TV. The worst part is, it's constant. To the point where pretty soon, Catania realizes the noise isn't just happening when she's at home. She can hear it wherever she goes. At the grocery store, at the post office, when she wants to go for a walk to clear her mind, she can't because the hum is still there. Which means it's not an issue with one of the appliances in her house or say construction

work around the block. It's everywhere. And not just in the city limits of Taos, but in the surrounding areas too. It isn't until Katanya and Bob leave town for vacation that Katanya finally gets some relief. But once she's back home, the sound starts right back up again. And this isn't some minor annoyance we're talking about. It's gotten to the point where Katanya feels like she can't even live her life anymore. The constant, inexplicable sound is too distracting and frustrating. At one point, she asks Bob if he can figure out where the sound is coming from.

But Bob has no idea what she's talking about. He's like, what sound? I didn't hear anything. Now, granted, if I was in that situation, I'd be wondering if the problem is with me, right? Like am I imagining the noise? Or is this some symptom of a medical problem? I don't know if Catania is wondering the same thing, but at least she wants to know

if she's alone in this. So her next move is to write to the local paper. She's looking for validation, for someone else in Taos to reassure her that she's not just hearing things and that the drone really is as intense as it is for her, that it's not just all in her head. So on March 19, 1992, her letter to the editor runs in the Taos News. In it, Catania not only asks if anyone else can hear this thing, she also writes that

if anyone can figure out where the noise is coming from, she'll happily pay them $500 as a reward. Well, Katanya's letter gets a response. As it turns out, it's not just her. There's a handful of people around Taos that have been hearing that very same hum. They've just been waiting for someone else to speak up about it first. One woman says she's gotten pretty good at tuning it out during the day. She's busy enough living her life to ignore it.

But at night, when she's trying to sleep, the drone is impossible to shut out. She hasn't had a restful night's sleep in who knows how long. In her letter, she also says she's gone out every night hiking in the hills, exploring abandoned factories and wandering around town. She's hopeful that she can find the source of the buzz and claim that $500 reward.

But she never comes up with a good explanation for the sound. She has theories, sure. Her letter to the editor mentions everything from UFOs to distant traffic, but she doesn't have any evidence to support either of these possibilities. Another Taos local says something similar, that just like everyone else, the Buzz is keeping her up at night, and that she's also been exploring the area, looking for the source. Her theory is that some electrical generators are making a quiet rumble. But the sound waves are bouncing and echoing around the town's mountain peaks, getting

louder as they go. She says she runs a fan at night to drown out the noise, and that works well for her. But before she thought to start using the fan, the sound was driving her wild. And I imagine a lot of those residents felt the same way. So to summarize, there's a good amount of people who've heard the noise, but nobody knows what it is. And they also can't seem to agree on what it actually sounds like. Different people describe it in different ways. Some say it's like a car idling nearby, a dull, distant rumble. Others say it's more like a hiss, or the buzzing sound you'd hear from a swarm of

bees. One local says it sounds exactly like someone playing or singing E flat continually without stopping, sort of like this. And another person says, and this is a direct quote, it's the frequency of love. It's just there like gravity. I gotta say, I kinda like that one a lot. So do I. But the point is, there's a lot of disagreement about what the hum actually sounds like. And from what I can tell, it's not a consistent noise.

It seems to be louder in some parts of town than others. Some people say the noise starts and stops. Others say it moves around. First, they'll hear it in the right ear, then it'll drift to the left and back to the right. Some people say the noise starts and stops. Others say it moves around. First they'll hear it in their right ear, then it'll drift to the left and back to the right. But there's one detail that they basically all agree on. The sound, which becomes known as the Taos hum, hasn't always been audible.

The people who can hear it have only been noticing it for about a year or so, starting around 1991. And it doesn't affect everyone. Like how Catania's husband Bob said he couldn't hear it, at least not at first. Eventually, Bob admits that he's been picking it up too. It's been a few weeks or months since Catania started hearing the hum, but now they're both in the same boat. the hum, but now they're both in the same boat. And like how are you supposed to do your job, go to sleep, or get anything done with this mysterious noise in your ears all day? I would literally be out of my mind trying to stay sane, especially because there's no way to make it stop. There's nowhere in town that they can go to get away from it. Yeah, there's no escape.

Even the people who try covering their ears or putting on headphones, they can still hear it clear as day. For some people in Taos, though, it's more than just an annoyance. It's actually a serious problem. The hum isn't just keeping them up at night, it's making them physically ill, with symptoms like nausea, headaches, and relentless exhaustion. But for others, it's even worse. They can't even breathe properly, and some have balance issues like vertigo.

And this is serious stuff, which is probably why the government eventually gets involved. In 1993, a group of scientists from the University of New Mexico teams up with an Air Force research group called Phillips Laboratory, and they're joined by Sandia National Laboratory and the Los Alamos National Laboratory, which we've discussed on this show before. Los Alamos is basically the leader when it comes to new technologies and unexplained scientific phenomena, and according to some rumors, they also investigate alien technology. So let's just say they know their way around the mysterious and the unexplained. Except once these groups team up and start collecting evidence, even the brightest minds

realize there's a lot more questions than answers. And even scarier, this phenomenon isn't just happening in Taos. In the spring of 1993, the researchers at Los Alamos began their week-long study into the Taos Hum. They start by trying to figure out just how many people can actually hear the sound. They ask 8,000 locals if they can pick it up, and 161 of them say yes. That's a little under 2% of the population. And these folks are dubbed... ...he hearers.

Then they look for a simple, more straightforward explanation for the sound. One early theory is that maybe this group of people, the 2%, are just really, really good at hearing. Maybe they're hearing some quiet rumbles that other people aren't picking up on, or perhaps they can even pick up frequencies that are usually inaudible. So the doctors give this group ear exams, and sure enough,

the vast majority of them have better than average hearing. The next step is to get some hearers together and walk around, like all over town. And each time they get to a new area, the researchers ask them to speak up whenever the hum gets a little louder or clearer. They measure a whole bunch of things. Does the sound get more noticeable around equipment with electromagnetic fields? Are people maybe hearing the vibrations from small, distant earthquakes? Is there traffic?

Or anything else that can make a very quiet, almost imperceptible noise? They even look at local factories. TOWS isn't exactly a manufacturing hub, but they have a few small businesses where they make food products. And like any small town, there are water treatment plants, electrical generators, and construction projects. But they can't find any correlation between the hum and earthquakes, factories, or anything making a detectable sound.

They do notice one thing though. The electromagnetic fields in Taos are stronger and more powerful than in other places. The problem is, it's not clear how that would create this particular sound. So they pivot. And one team of researchers targets Katanya and Bob's house in particular. They figure since Katanya reported the hum first, the noise could be coming from her home. They set up microphones, recording equipment, and sensors all around the Saltzman's house.

And this is wild. But the scientists do pick up the hum on their instruments at the house. They get a bunch of recordings of a persistent rumble on the property. One of the researchers can even hear it with his own ears, no equipment necessary. But they still can't figure out what's causing it. So after this week-long study, these scientists are still at a complete loss. They have no idea what's behind the Tau's hum. They literally end their report with the words, quote, We are left with a mystery.

End quote. But that answer is not good enough for the people of Tau's. I mean, have you ever sat under a fluorescent light that won't stop buzzing? Or you had to deal with a smoke alarm that's chirping every few minutes because the battery is getting low? A mosquito that's non-stop buzzing in your ear? You might be able to tune out the noise for a little while, but eventually it's going to drive you bonkers. And if someone tells you there's nothing to be done, of course you'll want a second opinion.

So after the researchers from Los Alamos say they can't solve the mystery, lots of locals go back to the drawing board, and they come up with their own theories about what the hum could be. Some people think the hearers are actually picking up on sounds from very far away, maybe a construction site that's dozens of miles down the road, or the ringing from far off thunder. Now, there's no hard rule about how far sound can travel and still be audible. I mean, it depends on a lot of things, like how loud the original sound was. If there were other

noises drowning it out, and if there were other noises drowning it out, and if there's anything between the hearer and the thing they're hearing. For example, I might be able to hear birds chirping on the other side of an empty field better than I can hear a friend talking on the other side of a closed door, especially if the friend is whispering or if there's also a TV playing in the background. And naturally that has a lot of people wondering, what if Taos is so remote and so naturally quiet that otherwise soft sounds can carry long distances? The fact is, the hum is a lot more audible on the outskirts of Taos than it is downtown, which makes sense.

The further you get away from other people, businesses, cars, and everything else, the more you might be able to pick up. If that's true, there's still the question of what's making the noise. One theory, which is a bit out there but fun to entertain, is that it could be a part of the fabric of the universe itself. I know that might sound a little new agey, but there's actually some science behind it. See, outer space has a lot of potential to be noisy. It's not because it's a vacuum

and sound can't carry if there's no air, but there are countless black holes colliding with one another at any given moment. And this sends out gravitational waves. Think of them as vibrations that ripple outward, like when you drop a rock in a pond. And maybe here on Earth, some people might be able to hear those vibrations in our atmosphere. So perhaps for a small sliver of the population, that 2% of people or so, these black holes are audible when they get somewhere that's still absolutely quiet, like Taos, New Mexico.

Okay, but here's my issue with that. Like why are no other sensitive listening devices picking this up? And if some distant noise was audible because of how muted everything was, you'd think if you turned on the radio or the TV, the hum would fade away. Only that's not the case because residents like Katanya did everything they could to try and get rid of the sound

and nothing worked. During that big research study on the hum, scientists asked the hearers if they could block the noise out by covering their ears, and they gave it a try, but it made no real difference. Although it does seem that some people can control the hum, almost turn it off and on if you will, by tilting their head a certain way, but this just doesn't fit with anything I've ever learned about

how sound travels. Plus, there are other towns with hums of their own, and some of these places are a lot noisier than Taos. Take Bristol in the UK for example. It's one of the 10 largest cities in England and Wales with a population of roughly 483,000 people. It's a pretty dense and loud urban area, very different from the quiet, peaceful vibe you get in Taos. And yet, beginning in the 1970s, locals began picking up an annoying persistent hum in Bristol. And from the accounts I read, it was a lot like the hum in Taos, this low pitched rumble, almost like the sound of distant traffic. I'm not sure when exactly the sound started, but by 1977 people were writing

letters to newspapers hoping to get answers about it. And just when everyone was at their breaking point, the sound vanished. Gone. Just like that. Totally went away on its own. Nobody knew what had been making the noise or how they got rid of it. But the people of Bristol breathed a sigh of relief. That is, until a few years later, when it came back. And then it just stopped again. In the decades that followed, this was life in Bristol. The hum would start and stop every couple of years. In 2016, someone even recorded the buzz

and posted the video online. Which is so bizarre to me because only 4% of the people can hear the Bristol Hum in person. So I don't know how this guy managed to make a recording that everyone could hear. And as if there weren't enough mysteries at play here, this phenomenon isn't only happening in Bristol and Taos, it's literally all over the world. There are reports of unexplained

hums in other countries like Scotland, Germany, New Zealand, Australia, and the list goes on. And even when some of the hearers moved, they still said the noise was present and impossible to ignore. Some even report picking up the hum no matter where they go. Like the sound isn't tied to a specific city or location, but instead it almost follows them around. And that's why another big theory is that hearers are actually picking up on the sounds of their own bodies. Earlier we mentioned it's possible to hear your own blood flowing if you're in a quiet room. Well about 14% of all people suffer from a condition called tinnitus. And actually, my husband Gino is one of those people who has this.

And we know that some causes of tinnitus include damage to the ear, high blood pressure, anemia, and hyperthyroidism. And that's just to name a few. And sometimes people develop tinnitus for no identifiable reason at all. But the results are often the same. It sounds like a constant ringing or buzzing in your ear. This could explain why so many people describe the hum so differently, as a buzz, a drone, or an E-flat, or even a hissing sound. If everyone is hearing something different, something that only exists in their own ears

and their own bodies, of course reports wouldn't be consistent. But what about the guy in Bristol who managed to record the hum? Because obviously that wasn't tinnitus. And there's another big problem with that theory. To borrow a phrase from real estate, it's all about location, location, location. Like we mentioned before, some hearers can pick up on the hum everywhere. But that's not true of all hearers. For some, once they get away from town, the humming stops. It's something they only hear in Taos or Bristol. Which wouldn't be true if this was tinnitus or any other sound coming from their own bodies.

In fact, when people go on trips and then fly home to Taos, after about two or three days, they start picking up on the hum again. Almost like the hearers have to get re-acclimated before they can spot it. Which really doesn't feel consistent with any of the grounded natural explanations. Well, if the hum doesn't have a natural cause, that leaves one other possibility—that it's not natural at all. In fact, one really popular theory is that the hum is some kind of military experiment,

and maybe ordinary citizens like you and me are the test subjects. In an ideal world, the US government would not conduct secret experiments on its own citizens, but reality is far from ideal, isn't it? And American officials do have a long history of running non-consensual psychological experiments on their own people. According to the book Brainwash by Dominic Stratfield, this kind of thing dates as far back as the 1940s. At that time, researchers with the American government

were trying to identify secret communists. One strategy was to slip cigarettes laced with a truth serum to their suspects. When people smoked it, they suddenly felt an undeniable urge to blurt out whatever was on their minds. They'd talk about crimes they'd committed, they'd admitted to their taboo political leanings. They were also very susceptible to suggestions. One guy even announced that he'd be willing to do anything if the researchers found it helpful. Even commit murder. Those studies were the bread and butter for a program called Project Bluebird, which was renamed Project Artichoke. And from 1949 to 1953, scientists from different intelligence agencies tried to improve their interrogation techniques. In particular, they wanted to know if they could use drugs, hypnotism, and

psychological torture to trigger certain results, like forcing people to tell the truth. Or the opposite, make their own agents more resistant to questioning. They did this by drugging and hypnotizing people without their consent, before ultimately trying to brainwash them. Some of these test subjects were their own agents, but others were everyday citizens, or people who were targeted because the scientists thought they deserved it, like those suspected communists we mentioned earlier.

And here's where it gets really icky. Many participants in these studies never consented to being a part of it. They didn't even realize what was happening to them when government operatives began toying with their minds. For example, in the summer and fall of 1950, Project Artichoke scientists drugged prisoners who'd been captured during the Korean War. After figuring out the right mix of medicines and prompting questions, they convinced these prisoners that they were having normal conversations with their friends and family members. Then they could ask them for whatever information they wanted to know.

Bluebird and Artichoke were precursors to MKUltra, which we've talked about on the show before. And if y'all haven't already listened to Ashley's episode on that, we'll have a link for it in the show notes. It's a wild one. But the point is, these were all government-sanctioned studies. And in these studies, researchers drugged or hypnotized foreigners and U.S. citizens alike. All right. So you might be wondering, what does that have to do with the hum? Well, there's evidence that American officials didn't stop there. They went even further, testing the effects of different sounds on prisoners. Again, in a completely non-consensual way.

During the Iraq War, private military contractors reportedly tortured prisoners by handcuffing them to the wall while they were standing. They refused to uncuff them so they could sit or lie down, even overnight. This went on throughout the early 2000s. Most of the general public learned about the practice in 2004, kicking off a big public debate on whether it was ethical. But there was more to the story, because they weren't just handcuffing them to keep them awake, they were also blasting music into their cells. In some cases, they also played something called

infrasound for the inmates. Infrasound is any noise that's vibrating right on the edge of the audible range for humans. Technically, you can hear it, but it's pretty hard to make out. And more importantly, it's said some people feel intense fear and anxiety when they're exposed to infrasound, meaning it's anything but pleasant. And while the Tao's hum isn't quite low quite low frequency enough to count as infrasound, it's in the same general range. So we know, thanks to programs like Artichoke, Bluebird, and MK Ultra, the government was willing to experiment on its own citizens, and those Iraq war reports show that they're interested in seeing how sound can impact

people. Put it all together, and to me, it seems like the Tows Hum could be a part of some government operation. Maybe officials are blasting a low-frequency buzz at the small community just to see how people will react. Normally, I would totally agree with you, but there is one thing that makes me hesitate, the fact that this has been going on for so long.

People say they first heard the hum about a year before Ketania wrote that letter to the editor. So we're talking about the spring of 1991, roughly. For context, this was about a decade before the government started using infrasound on prisoners in Iraq. 34 years later, so early 2025, the Tows Hum is still audible. Nobody has come forward to take credit for the buzz, and nobody has shut down the experiment,

if that's what this is. It's crazy to think that there could have been a secret non-consensual government experiment running for a third of a century, and that nothing has leaked about it during that time. And what would the point of it all be? What sort of information could they possibly be collecting? Not to mention, it's happening in lots of countries besides the United States. So, if the hum isn't part of an experiment, y'all, maybe it's supernatural, or maybe it's something magical. Now, you might be wondering what's so mystical about Taos or Bristol, or any of these other

places the hum is heard around the world. Well, we can't speak for those other cities, but as far as Taos goes, there might be an answer in the way the locals live day to day. I know that we talked earlier about how this is a town full of spiritualists and artists, but saying that might actually be an understatement. Taos is a place where it's not unusual for the local paper to publish articles that casually reference things like out-of-body experiences and witchcraft. There's a real anything-goes kind of culture in Taos, so maybe the people there are unusually

open-minded, and that makes them more attuned to otherworldly vibrations. As one person told the Taos News, the hum could be a mystical harmonic energy. I wish I could tell you what that person actually meant, but their explanation involved Mayan glyphs, mystical harmonies, and something called, this is a quote, flux elements in an unusual but stable convergence. And y'all, I can't exactly make heads or tails of this quote, but maybe it signifies the vibration of the universe, much like the sacred OM sound. And I just have to say that our beautiful mother, like she used to chant, Nam-myo-ren-ke-kyo, because she believed there was a connection between the sounds of the universe and spiritual practice.

So maybe Taos itself is something very special. Again, I've never been, but it sounds like it is, right, Rosh? It does, It sounds beautiful. And I remember mom doing all that chanting. By getting back to it, decades before anyone officially noticed the hum, one resident wrote a letter to her son where she said, Suddenly passing Tows Mountain, I felt I was part of the earth. So I felt the sun on my surface and rain. I felt the stars and the growth of the moon. Under me, rivers ran. I don't know if that sensation had anything to do with the hum, but it sounds like something about

this town makes people feel different. Maybe it does have some kind of magical vibration. All that to say, there are a lot of potential explanations for the hum in Taos, but nobody knows for sure what it is or how to stop it. This is a problem for a lot of Taos residents. They can't live with the constant background noise. And the more time goes on, the more impossible it is to ignore. That was the case for Katanya and her husband Bob. Let's just say they were not happy with the end of that investigation into the hum. The Saltzman's thought the officials could have figured out what the sound was if they'd wanted to.

They just weren't taking the situation seriously. Either that or they were creating the sound themselves. So yeah, Catania was on board with the secret government experiment theory. Eventually she and Bob got so sick of the hum that they couldn't stay in Taos anymore. They couldn't even stay in the United States. One day in the fall of 1993, after calling Taos home for over a decade, they packed up their bags and just left. They were willing to uproot their whole lives just to get away from this noise. And they're not alone. To this day, the hum is still audible to about 2% of the Taos population, give or take.

That includes locals and the so-called sound tourists, people who travel just to experience the drone for themselves. The hum has been a major source of controversy around Taos, and many of the locals, the non-hearers, think it doesn't exist. That the sultzmans and other people who claim to hear it are, I don't know, like they're exaggerating for attention. It's hard to imagine abandoning your home and leaving the country just for attention. But the point is, for the 98% of people who can't hear the hum, it has to be hard to empathize with those people

who are really, truly bothered by it. But one thing's for certain, the hum has brought a lot of business to the small New Mexico town. It even inspired a local company to make its own hot sauce. The name? Get this. Tows Hum. Make it stop. And let's not forget about those tourists. Maybe some visitors come to Taos and hear a musical hum in the key of E-flat. Or maybe others hear an obnoxious drone that makes them want to stay away forever. I think what's really interesting about this story is that it proves each and every one

of us experiences things differently. Whether it's the way we interpret communication, sound, or how we perceive the world around us, no two of us are exactly the same. And what one of us considers reality might be entirely different for someone else. So perhaps the Tao's hum is just one of those mysteries that can never be fully answered, because the answer doesn't lie in how, what, where, or when, but instead in our unique individual perceptions about the world around us. This is So Supernatural, an audio chuck original produced by Crime House. You can connect with us on Instagram at So Supernatural Pod and visit our website at SoSupernaturalPodcast.com.

Join Rasha and me next Friday for an all-new episode. So what do you think, Chuck? Do you approve? No!