If it looks like a duck and it quacks like a duck, you should not be so quick to jump to conclusions. Welcome to Night Vale.

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Listeners, someone built a monolith in front of City Hall overnight. Last night there was no 15-foot tall, 2-foot thick rectangle made of blue slate towering over the faded grass and weakened tulip garden in front of City Hall. But now there is. A monolith with indifferent geometry and a long, sharp shadow cast by the low morning sun.

It is an ominous construction channeling ancient powers and long-dead gods. Perhaps it is even connected to our primordial extra-terrestrial ancestry. And now, just a few days before Christmas, this looming, dark stone shows up mysteriously in the night, casting scornful shadows across both our dreams and our primitive understanding of the world.

It's super festive, and I love it!

Whoever put that thing up, good job. It must weigh 20 tons. Don't know how you did it, but way to get us all into the holiday spirit!

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I talked to Carlos the other night listeners. He's still trapped in the-

Not trapped. I told him I'd stop saying he's "trapped" in the desert otherworld. He's doing work there. He said after a few months of feeling helpless, he's made some friends - like the giant soldiers Doug and Alicia - and even gotten a lot of research done. He doesn't feel "trapped" at all.

I told him that he was locked in that alternate desert against his will and has been unable to return. So that seems to me like a pretty strong definition of trapped.

He said he used to feel that way, but now he no longer feels threatened by the rumbling beneath the sand or the strange armies that move about the beige wastescape, none of them fighting, only wandering. He feels like this desert - the most scientifically interesting place in the otherworld - is where he needs to be for now.

He quoted that old adage: "When God closes a door, God opens a window. Then God cracks a few knuckles. Then God kicks a pinecone up the sidewalk. God also chews a whole bunch of gum. God recently quit smoking and is really fidgety." Carlos used that classic saying to point out that this desert is a great opportunity for his career as a scientist, and I respect that.

I asked if he found an old oak door with only one side that could possibly bring him back to Night Vale.

He said he hadn't, but then he asked: "Cecil, if I find that doorway, would you maybe come here again? Just for a visit. I want you to meet Alicia. Alicia has a Bichon Frise the size of a Prius and is really into astronomy. They also showed me some planets and comets they really like. Also the constellations change every night here. There are new shapes of mythic heroes in the sky every night.

"I'd love you to come visit," Carlos told me.

"We'll see. It does sound nicer than I remember." I said.

"Neat," he said.

I'd love to be near Carlos again. We've had a great time talking nearly every night, but it's hard to know how much meeting eyes or touching hands means until it's gone. Plus, I could use a vacation. Other than that brief escape through that same desert otherworld this spring, I don't think I've been out of Night Vale, since... wow... Luftnarp? Svitz? Time flies, comma, is weird

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Oh big news!

This Wednesday afternoon is the opening ceremony of the revitalized Old Town Drawbridge. Because of massive setbacks two years ago, and a complete lack of a body of water that would even necessitate a drawbridge, the opening was delayed by 14 years, including a budget increase of over 20 million dollars. So technically we're still 12 years away from completion, but the City Council thought we might as well have the opening ceremony now.

"We've already burned through the 20 million dollars," the city council announced in unison via conference call from a cruise ship. The council were all wearing matching sunglasses and floppy hats and drinking a pastel liquid through long curly straws out of one large pineapple.

The opening ceremony will be held in a collective shared daydream Wednesday afternoon. So make sure you’re doing something that is unchallenging both physically and mentally on Wednesday so you can drift off into this fun community dream-event.

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We're starting to get complaints about the new monolith that appeared overnight in front of City Hall. The monolith has begun to hover. I mean not by much. Don't freak out over a hovering monolith. It's like 2 or 3 inches, not a full foot or more.

The complaints, though, are not about the hovering. They're about the placement of the monolith. Our town (and country for that matter) was based on the separation of ancient long-dead religions and state.

Juanita Jefferson, head of the community organization "Night Vale or Nothing," announced her group's protest against a prominent symbol of old gods (and possibly our primordial extra-terrestrial origins) being displayed on government property.

The City Council retorted by slurping their cocktail loudly from the still-active Skype connection on a nearby Acer laptop that no one knew how to turn off.

Jefferson added: "Treeeeeeeees. They are us." and then bit into a small metal pipe wrapped in a hot dog bun. While she chewed, we could still hear her speaking clearly. “Treeeees,” she said, her closed mouth moving in slow, undulating, cast-iron crunches.

Several others have come to Jefferson's side in this issue claiming that while they still fervently worship old gods - many showing off blood-stained shoes and sharp rocks wrapped in strips of flesh - they do not believe it is the government's place to express these beliefs so publicly.

"Slurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrp," came the City Council's reply from the computer.

More on this controversy as it grows out of hand.

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But first a word from our sponsor.

Today's show is brought to you by silent self reflection. Are you aware of what's inside of you? No, not soft meats and deadly microorganisms. More than that. What makes you *you*? How are you able to acknowledge that you are even a thing, separate from the rest of the universe?

Do you find yourself casting about in the white noise of the living world, your eardrums clogged with the filth of existence?

We here at Night Vale Community Radio recommend silent self-reflection. Give it a try. Here's some silence. During the silence, reflect on yourself. Reflect on your life, your being. Close your eyes and just reflect. Let in no sights, no sounds, and reflect.

Ready? Here goes.

[30 seconds of silence]

Did you reflect? That was a long silence right? Do you know how long that silence was?

It was two weeks! You've been unconscious for two full weeks. You've been pronounced legally dead. Your family misses you, but you're finally free to be the living ghost you've always dreamed of being. Congratulations. Enjoy a life free of legal consequence!

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And now an update on the monolith.

Some protesters have shown up at City Hall carrying signs against the monolith. The signs read "NO MONOLITHS ON CITY PROPERTY" and then a slash through that phrase, which is confusing, because that seems like a double negative, but when you look closely, there's also a line through the NO part, so it's a triple negative which reduces down to a single negative.

There are other signs that are just painted solid colors, so it looks like the monolith has lost the support of the abstract expressionist community as well.

Fortunately, the sheriff's secret police have already gently kettled the protesters into a fenced-in section of a distant parking lot where no one can see or hear their protests, thus keeping public order and still allowing for freedom of speech. A win-win.

Counter protesters have also arrived in support of the monolith, demonstrating their distaste for people against the monolith. They are holding signs that have a picture of a monolith, or maybe it's the letter I or L or the number 1. It's hard to say what with sans-serif fonts being all the rage these days.

Police have placed the counter protesters into a pen next to the original protesters and covered both pens with an opaque and soundproof velvet drape.

We're getting word that the monolith is vibrating and loudly humming. Also it's glowing. But I don't know. I can't feel or see that, so not really my problem now is it?

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Let's have a look at sports.

The Night Vale High School Scorpions had a rough 2014 season. It was capped off by a scandal involving junior running back Malik Herrera. The Scorpions had to forfeit all wins in which Herrera played, because he violated district rules by never truly existing.

One of the team's best defenders, senior safety Jessica Lexington, was sidelined most of the season with spinal parasites she got in late September after refusing to yield on a highway off-ramp.

Additionally, sophomore quarterback Henry Lexington, Jessica's younger brother, struggled in his first season as a starter. By year-end he showed some improvement as coach Nazr al-Mujaheed worked with Lexington on holding the ball with his own hands and throwing the ball with his own arms, not other people's, as he had been doing early in the season.

But on the bright side, it looks like former Scorpions quarterback Michael Sandero has gone on to great success after graduation. Many of you know Michael was recruited by a university called Michigan. I'm not a big sports fan myself, so I have no idea what state the University of Michigan is located in, but apparently they have just completed an undefeated season with Michael as quarterback, and will compete in the college football playoffs against another school called Alabama (again, sounds like a private school; I've never heard that name before).

Michigan is favored to win the title this year, and Michael is a front-runner for the Heisman Trophy, given to college football's best player. His control over weather elements and powerful pyrokinesis skills proved invaluable to a previously struggling Michigan offense.

Good luck, Michael. Your hometown is cheering for you!

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An update on the glowing and shaking monolith. The earth below it has split open, and the secret police have issued a statement saying they regret silencing the original protesters. They have since let the protesters out asking them to protest a little harder.

"Also protest closer to the monolith, okay?" the secret police shouted at the confused protesters whose eyes were still adjusting to the bright daylight after being in a dark pen all afternoon. "Try getting right up on the thing and protesting," the officers called from behind their cruisers.

The secret police also asked counter protesters to try talking to the monolith. "You like it so much, why don't you marry it?" the secret police teased before adding "No seriously, go talk to that thing, okay? It's freaking us out."

But all protesters have scattered from the scene. The monolith is now shaking violently. I can hear it here in the station. I can feel it throughout my body. My skin is rattling. I can see the great green glow. It is so bright, the cement walls of our station almost seem to be fading.

So as our physical being becomes either rent into atomic mist or subsumed by a sphere of cosmic energy, let me, in my final act as a tangible being, bring you today's weather.

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Weather: "Anything I Want You To" by The Rizzos (therizzos.bandcamp.com)

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Well the monolith split open. There was a deafening crack of shattered stone, a flash of blinding light, the stench and taste of sulfur as we felt rocky dust settling upon our cowardly, crouching backs.

In the hazy aftermath, we looked for the dead and found none. We looked for the wounded and found none. We looked for damaged streets and buildings and found... well, we found presents.

We found city streets strewn with gold-wrapped toys and parcels of fine chocolates. There were ornate bags filled with silk scarves and swirling gilded ribbons and glittery notes wishing every person in Night Vale seasons greetings, along with gift cards to popular stores like Target and the Ralphs and Hatred.

[long pause, maybe a sigh]

Look. I hate to rant. But given that Night Vale long ago abolished materialism, this seems like a cruel holiday prank. I'm glad no one was hurt, but this whole monolith thing was really annoying. It was not a deadly threat to our city or our lives, merely a time-wasting tribute to the worst qualities of the old gods. It took most of the afternoon to clean this mess up, but thankfully it's all been swept away and dumped into the landfill.

The City Council, upon hearing of the storm of holiday presents upon our town, swiftly and nobly returned from their tax-funded island vacation and offered their condolences for us having to witness this consumerist assault.

They reminded us that Santa is a CIA-created myth, and that the holidays shouldn't be about buying things or getting things or even giving things. Christmas, they chanted in unison, is about being a little less distrustful of neighbors. Of casting our eyes down more respectfully when we pass hooded figures or people wearing some kind of official-looking firearm. Christmas is about being at home with family, doors locked, everyone speaking clearly and within range of the hidden cameras.

At that moment a low-flying police helicopter passed over City Hall, its searchlight frantically flashing across the terrified face of every single citizen. It was truly a magical Christmas moment, and the whole crowd winced with holiday cheer.

One lone person asked "but isn't Christmas a religious holiday? Should the city really be promoting a religious holiday?"

The City Council quickly replied, "Not any religion that we're aware of," and the secret police kindly ushered that grumpy scrooge off to a less-public place.

Night Vale, sometimes we see something strange and different and our first reaction is to loathe and fear it. To bring rage and scorn against its very being. But that's not the Christmas spirit. This is the time of year we must learn to not shout down things we don't know or understand, but simply hide from them and later pretend they were never there at all.

And today we mostly did that. We mostly did good, Night Vale. Maybe it will be a merry Christmas for everyone. Maybe this is an auspicious start to the holidays.

Hey, that's the best part about the future: anything you want to be possible IS possible... as long as you don't think about it too hard.

Stay tuned next for the sound of something clawing its way out of your chest.

Good night, Night Vale. Good night.

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PROVERB: It’s not the size of the dog in the fight. It’s the size of the *other* dog in the fight.