PART ONE. By request, we are reading James Thurber's story again on Radio Valencia. During this episode we presented the first half of the book. The Duke of Coffin Castle was as cold as he was evil. Many were the suitors who came to win the hand of his beautiful niece, the Princess Saralinda. Under a spell, she lived in the castle-- and in fact, wasn't his niece at all; he planned to marry her himself. The suitors unvaryingly met death after failing to surmount the Duke's preposterously impossible tasks. But, disguised as a ragged minstrel, the Prince Zorn of Zorna, aided by the Golux, a semi-divine being, having been imprisoned by the Duke, was released to attempt the latest task-- to find a thousand jewels within ninety and nine hours and bring them to Coffin Castle. At the time of delivery, the thirteen frozen clocks in the castle would have to be striking the hour. Many had tried to fix them but they could not ever be made to go. The Duke always claimed to have murdered Time himself, to have wiped his bloody blade upon His beard as He lay stricken, His mainspring stopped and His pendulum disintegrating. The Duke himself was the potential victim of a horrendous monster, the Todal, an agent of the Devil sent to punish evildoers for not being evil enough, were he, and not any of the suitors of Saralinda, to fail. The unspeakable Todal would Gleep you-- and there would be nothing left. After a long journey, the Golux and the Prince climbed a lonely hill and visited Hagga, a hermit-like woman who could weep precious stones. Although she had never been able to weep for years, they somehow induced her to laugh-- and as she shed the tears of laughter, these too became precious stones... Later is the show we had a welcome visitor of our own-- KrOB... Next week: the second half. Three hours.

OR, MIXING to Create-- By combining threads of (mainly) two Archived episodes, we synthesize a new creation, also overlaying it with an intermittent reactive vocal performance. And in future we might so employ this newly-created amalgam to make yet another of this type. In this way, dead voices may be made to live again... So the combining of often diverse conceptions into a coherent whole epitomizes artistic creation, in which, perhaps, the dialectic combination of thesis and antithesis resolves into an entirely new form. With: Phineas, Janor, Philo, KrOB, Ginger Vee, Puzzling Evidence, Dominique Stigmata, Jody Donaldson, Jim Khennedy, the late Don Joyce and others, here revived for our purposes. Once again, the eternal Show walks the earth, when deranged “edits” segue into a cascade of echoing glossolaliac madness, the voicing of lyric ruminations from the free-falling brains of disintegrating personalities. Three hours.

...AGAINST MY RUINS, as we say. Fragmentation is both a theme and a formal feature of the Ask Dr. Hal! Show, the Puzzling Evidence show long on KPFA and its successor feeder show, Reloadio (ongoing). The fragmentary nature of certain recorded previous archival material, eternally "ploughed under" and then, through an active synthesis, "seeded" to produce a new layer in active currency, mirrors the social, psychological, and spiritual fragmentation of the cultural entities extant in the Noosphere after the final U.S. election. National borders will be changing and citizens’ nerves shot to bits as unstable and mobile populations, refugees from Authoritarianism and climate change disasters, move across previously official frontiers, many of these suffering from shell-shock or PTSD. This presentation, alas, offers no solution, except to offer the enduring fragments in new combinations. Song: "Me and my Mummy," by Bobby "Boris" Pickett and his Crypt Keepers. No guests this show, but perhaps we'll have some anon, on a nearing future episode. Three hours.

PAY ASK DR. HAL! A VISIT on Radio Valencia... something of an experimental nature. One, Floyd, actually drew comic strips WHILE the Show was going on. Unfortunately, getting lost in his work, always a possibility, he often sinks into inaudibility as, bent over his work, his lips retreat from the vicinity of the microphone. Another artist of talent, Appel Berry, is more easy to hear during the conversation marking this episode. We think we will be featuring these two again in some future episode. The lore and history of this medium is always a gateway into a nearly infinite landscape of literary and artistic creation. Pen-and-ink rules! We speak of the amazing work of Basil Wolverton and other stars of the comic book plenum. Also, excerpts from the once (but most likely not the future) live Ask Dr. Hal! Show of yore. Additionally featuring an all-too-brief stop-in from KrOB. 3 hours.

HIGHLIGHTS THIS EPISODE, a reading from Smith's long lyric poem. The poem is also titled The Apocalypse of Evil:

Bow down: I am the emperor of dreams;
I crown me with the million-colored suns
Of secret worlds incredible, and take
Their trailing skies for vestment when I soar,
Throned on the mounting zenith, and illume
The spaceward-flown horizons infinite.
Like rampant monsters roaring for their glut,
The fiery-crested oceans rise and rise,
By jealous moons maleficently urged
To follow me for ever; mountains horned
With peaks of sharpest adamant, and mawed
With sulphur-lit volcanoes lava-langued,
Usurp the skies with thunder, but in vain;
And continents of serpent-shapen trees,
With slimy trunks that lengthen league by league,
Pursue my flight through ages spurned to fire
By that supreme ascendance; sorcerers,
And evil kings, predominanthly armed
With scrolls of fulvous dragon-skin whereon
Are worm-like runes of ever-twisting flame,
Would stay me; and the sirens of the stars,
With foam-like songs from silver fragrance wrought,
Would lure me to their crystal reefs; and moons
Where viper-eyed, senescent devils dwell,
With antic gnomes abominably wise,
Heave up their icy horns across my way.
But naught deters me from the goal ordained
By suns and eons and immortal wars,
And sung by moons and motes; the goal whose name
Is all the secret of forgotten glyphs
By sinful gods in torrid rubies writ
For ending of a brazen book; the goal
Whereat my soaring ecstasy may stand
In amplest heavens multiplied to hold
My hordes of thunder-vested avatars,
And Promethèan armies of my thought,
That brandish claspèd levins. There I call
My memories, intolerably clad
In light the peaks of paradise may wear,
And lead the Armageddon of my dreams
Whose instant shout of triumph is become
Immensity's own music: for their feet
Are founded on innumerable worlds,
Remote in alien epochs, and their arms
Upraised, are columns potent to exalt
With ease ineffable the countless thrones
Of all the gods that are or gods to be,
And bear the seats of Asmodai and Set
Above the seventh paradise.

Supreme
In culminant omniscience manifold,
And served by senses multitudinous,
Far-posted on the shifting walls of time,
With eyes that roam the star-unwinnowed fields
Of utter night and chaos, I convoke
The Babel of their visions, and attend
At once their myriad witness. I behold
In Ombos, where the fallen Titans dwell,
With mountain-builded walls, and gulfs for moat,
The secret cleft that cunning dwarves have dug
Beneath an alp-like buttress; and I list,
Too late, the clam of adamantine gongs
Dinned by their drowsy guardians, whose feet
Have fell the wasp-like sting of little knives
Embrued With slobber of the basilisk
Or the pail Juice of wounded upas. In
Some red Antarean garden-world, I see
The sacred flower with lips of purple flesh,
And silver-Lashed, vermilion-lidded eyes
Of torpid azure; whom his furtive priests
At moonless eve in terror seek to slay
With bubbling grails of sacrificial blood
That hide a hueless poison. And I read
Upon the tongue of a forgotten sphinx,
The annulling word a spiteful demon wrote
In gall of slain chimeras; and I know
What pentacles the lunar wizards use,
That once allured the gulf-returning roc,
With ten great wings of furlèd storm, to pause
Midmost an alabaster mount; and there,
With boulder-weighted webs of dragons' gut
Uplift by cranes a captive giant built,
They wound the monstrous, moonquake-throbbing bird,
And plucked from off his saber-taloned feet
Uranian sapphires fast in frozen blood,
And amethysts from Mars. I lean to read
With slant-lipped mages, in an evil star,
The monstrous archives of a war that ran
Through wasted eons, and the prophecy
Of wars renewed, which shall commemorate
Some enmity of wivern-headed kings
Even to the brink of time.

OF ONCOMING BARBARISM accompanies the inevitable approach of the Armies of the Night, the exaltation of ignorance and, potentially, the last, expiring act of our familiar country. As cartoonist Larry Gonick (THE CARTOON HISTORY OF THE UNIVERSE) has said, it is not unlike being in the path of an approaching hurricane without any ability to do anything about it. We take refuge in an excerpt from T.H. White's THE SWORD IN THE STONE-- the original work, not the rewritten trilogy combined by the author in the later THE ONCE AND FUTURE KING. In this performance, putting aside at the last moment our unwilling contemplation of the advent of the Orange Caligula, we essay to leave our frame of temporal reference and experience cosmic Time-- first as do the Trees, to whose years-long conversation we listen, then, at the rate of millions of years per second, the voice of the Rocks-- the mineral world. In the form of an Owl, the future monarch accompanies Archimedes, the Strigiform Familiar of Merlinus Ambrosius, to the presence of Athena, Goddess of Wisdom. The bird emblematic of Athena, the Greek goddess of practical reason known as Minerva to the Romans, is specifically in fact the Little owl (eponymously, Athene noctua). Why associate this particular bird with the sanctity of wisdom? It is related that Owls became symbolic of intelligence because it was thought that they, birds of omen and epiphany, symbolically presaged events when seen. On the other hand, because of their nocturnal existence and supposed ominous hooting, they have also been symbols associated with the Occult and in general the otherworldly. Their secretive habits, swift, silent flight, and haunting calls have made them the objects of superstition and even fear in many parts of the world. In the Middle Ages the Little owl was used as a symbol of the “darkness” before the coming of Christ; by further extension it was used to symbolize a nonbeliever who dwells in this darkness. Such are we as the menace of control by an unintelligent, malevolent minority silently hovers over us. Similarly the barn owl (Tyto alba) was looked upon as a bird of ill omen, and it subsequently in some places became relevant to our universal national predicament as a symbol of disgrace. Scientific study of owls is difficult owing to their clandestine nighttime activity, with the result that the ecology, behavior, and taxonomy of many species remain poorly understood. Here's hoping we find we have the ability to maintain tolerance and understanding of the foibles of our own species.

OR, "VAMPIRE SOJOURNERS in a Hostile World." We speak once again of Vampires. The subject is far broader than supposed by those who tend to give it less than cursory attention. Because Legendry is consonant with a long history of revenants, or walking corpses, accompanied by tales of "bloodsucking" Ghoules (or Eaters of the Dead), precision requires that we pin down a distinct set of characteristics consistently attributed only to Vampires. Central to Vampire myth, however, is the consumption of human blood or other essence (such as bodily fluids or Psychic energy), usually performed by those with the diagnostic feature of sharp teeth or "fangs" with which to facilitate this transfer, depending, as always, on individual cases and allowing for regional variations. In most depictions, the former human canines in the dentary may indeed be employed, but according to Natvilcius (1692) it is the incisor array, adapted to the task post-mortem, which most commonly comes into use by the Undead-— that is to say, those said to have been somehow revived after death, as in the instance of Yeshua Ben-David, called by the Roman authorities Jesus (of Nazareth). Many are said to rise nightly from their sepulchers or coffins with some regularity, provided that those oblong receptacles have been maintained to include enough of their native soil (a must) to make a diurnal bed. A Vampire, though, it must be remembered begins its post-human existence as a charged (ecto-)plasma, a contained body of mephitic activity seeking a foothold in the former mortal world. Many disembodied spirits take up this quest, but only Vampiric entities are usually permitted, by the Immanent Will that stirs and urges everything, to find it-- typically via the ingestion of freshly drawn human blood or Elan Vital. This needed transfer, once achieved, permits a realistic simulacrum of a human body to be formed, accepted from perceptual resonance by chosen receptive human subjects. Such Vampires may, as in the accounts, cast no shadow or produce a mirror reflection-- unless they attend to this detail, as a superior Vampire easily does under ordinary circumstances. [European, Slavonic and Mediterranean] Vampires are typically said to be of pale skin, and range in appearance from grotesque to preternaturally beautiful, depending on the tale-teller. For these, the modern era points up an inability to be photographed or recorded on film or digital media. The assertion that Vampires "suck blood" is a locution which many Vampires have found irritating when encountered, since basically a mere thinning or whittling away of the outer epidermis with the incisors permits, while the "patient" or prey is immobilized by spell or hypnotic trance, a gentle, sanguine upwelling as a result of ordinary circulatory activity which may be easily and neatly lapped up, with no messy, vulgar suction ever employed. And some prefer to deal not with the physical blood at all, preferring an osmotic transfer of vital energy from patient to recipient.

We touch on the manner in which a mortal person may develop into a Vampire in a variety of ways, the most common of which is, obviously, to be bitten-- in which case the contagion is most probable as a result. Other methods include sorcery, committing suicide or (it is said) having a black cat jump over a recently deceased person’s corpse. Some have believed that (unwanted) babies born with a full set of teeth, or on Christmas or between Christmas and Epiphany, may be predisposed to becoming Vampires or related Were-wolves. Diagnostically, the water in the Baptismal font may boil when such an infant is presented. While Vampires usually do not die of disease or other normal human afflictions, and are indeed often said to have faster-than-normal "healing" capabilities, there is no oddity in a non-living body's immunity to sickness, nor can it truly heal in the commonly understood sense. The restoration of body mass is best accomplished simply by further transfer of living blood or energy. Animal blood may sometimes interchangeably be used, which, however, disadvantageously facilitates the transposition of the soma into quasi-animal form, and is in fact one avenue toward true Lycanthropy.

As is widely known in many cultures, there are various traditional methods for their defeat and destruction. The most popular of those include a wooden stake through the heart, fire, decapitation, and exposure to sunlight. Vampires are often depicted as being repelled, like all blood-drinking entities, by garlic. In some instances running water, or Christian implements such as crucifixes and holy water have had some effect. In related stories Vampires may enter a home only if they have been invited, and in others they may be said to be distracted by the scattering of objects such as seeds or grains that they are compelled to count, thereby enabling potential victims to escape. This task of counting appears as one of the penitential labors of Psyche in the Metamorphosis of Late-Roman writer Lucius Apulieus, also called the Golden Ass. That book also contains a Vampire account, at one point; we mention it during the Podcast.

Creatures with Vampiric characteristics have appeared at least as far back as ancient Greece, where stories were told of fell liches that attacked people in their sleep and, in passing, significantly drained their bodily fluids. Tales of walking corpses that tippled on the blood of the living and spread Pestilence flourished in Medieval Europe in times of Plague and infirmity, and those unfortunates lacking a modern understanding of infectious disease came to believe that those who became Vampires preyed first upon their own families, a relatively infrequent case. Research has posited that characteristics associated with Vampires can be traced back to such certain known maladies as Porphyria, which makes the presence of light painful and distracting; Tuberculosis or Consumption, which causes wasting; Pellagra, a disease that thins the skin and dreaded Rabies, which causes biting and general sensitivities that could lead to repulsion by light or garlic. By trial and error, many Vampires active at the present time may overcome either, by the expedient of wearing specially crafted shoes containing the native grave earth in a layer beneath the inner soles. Whatever works, eh? In addition to various spells, chants and exorcisms we also perform the poetry of Blake, (Clark Ashton) Smith, Lewis Carroll and others. Three hours.

AS CHERUBS ARE TO ANGELS, Imps are to full-grown Demons. It's all in the show. And as Imps create annoyances and exult in causing subject humans to lose their temper and commit the Sin of Wrath, studies show that their maximally developed adult stage, Demons, seek a recondite ecstasy in shepherding the torment of the highest developed humans: philosophers, saints and the like. Usually given a pass by most theologians, Imps tend to be described in the literature as mischievous pranksters more than a serious threat (tell that to Saint Anthony!)-- as lesser creatures, in essence, unimportant if supernatural beings. These small helpers who attend the Devil may properly be described as Imps. They are usually reported to be quite diminutive and very active. What of their classification? Imps were the common name given to familiar spirits that served witches in the Middle Ages, usually kept inside artifacts such as gemstone pieces or vials, and summoned for malevolent service by means of Magic. As a side note to the show, we mention in passing the work LES FARFADETS ("The Imps") in three volumes, printed 1818-1820, 1200 pages, by one Alexis-Vincent Berbiguier de Terre-Neuve du Thym (b. 1764, probably). The books are the most comprehensive volumes ever published on the Imps, their gestation, development and diuturnal longevity. Berbiguier, himself tormented continuously by these little devils, was considered a madman by some (most) people for his obsession. The date of his death is unknown, uncertain like his birthdate. What happened to Berbiguier? It is believed that in the end, the Imps got him.

HEAR THE "BOB" SONG starting 1:09:08, presented along with poetic fragments and Archival excerpts. The late, great Don Joyce makes an appearance among others. KrOB shepherds us through the last (additional) hour. The rutabaga is an often overlooked, but sweet and nutrient-packed, root vegetable. Originating sometime in the 17th century, it's a hybrid between a turnip and a wild cabbage. In fact, a rutabaga may truly be said to resemble a giant, ugly turnip. Many people confuse the two vegetables, but there are some key differences. It is always important to make distinctions in every field of endeavor and taxonomy.

PROFILES ORGANISMS that were once but rumored to exist, or were thought to be impossible, that were subsequently scientifically shown to be real; and others that were once accepted as fact that were later determined to have never existed. The show speculates about dragons and sea serpents, wingless birds and Abominable Snowmen, starting with the Gryphon or Griffin. We examine ancient sources, including Sir John Mandeville's Travels. Some of the claims we make here may become later criticized or ridiculed, which is a casualty of this species of erudition. We note entries in certain rare and antique texts, including the Aviarium by Hugh of Fouilloy, the Bestiaires of Gervaise, Guillaume le Clerc, Philippe de Thaon, Pierre de Beauvais, Isodore of Seville's Etymologiae, De Naturis Rerum by Hrabanus Maurus, De Proprietatibus Rerum by Bartholomaeus Anglicus and the renowned Bestiaire d'Amour by Richard de Fournival. Was the marine Scolopendra a fantasy or a giant form, now extinct (or extremely rare) of the Robin Fish, which has evolved multiple insect-like legs to walk upon the bottom of the sea? Hmmm... who knows? Could be...

AND SOME OF HIS FRIENDS feature in this episode. We are told not to discuss "Politics" on these iterations, but in truth everything is political in its origin, genesis and later ultimate effects. Thus we excerpt some of the historic Election Material in the time-honored Struggle for the office of Showboss. But Kalliope, the Muse of Poetry, is also served here. Maudlin reflections on a tottering career are also presented as part of this (ideally) savory collation. Three hours, count 'em-- three! Special thanks to Robert Zimmerman, the 700 Charwomen and Doug Sputley, Hank Vapid and Bud Tutley of the Nude Action News Team.

WHERE IS IT NOW? A speculation. Beings of the unserviceable hours. Archival material annotated. Eventually we get to the good, old live Ask Dr. Hal! Show. Chances for its revival in this state are negligible. There is, however, the on-line version at askdrhalshow.com whose next iteration will be October 20th at 6 PM Pacific Time. A little cross-pollination here, heh, heh... Robert Bly's Kabir helps take us out...

TO THIS PODCAST, Ask Dr. Hal! surveys in this program the dangers and exaltations of a life surrendered to poetry and the arts. Still decompressing from a certain Desert Festival, Dr. H. Owll proceeds, after critical remarks on the BMorg, as we call it, with a brief memorial for those who did fail to make it back, with appropriate reverence... We also revisit some of the many Hours of Slack vouchsafed unto us by the Sacred Scribe, the Very Reverend Ivan Stang. No visitors appear, and the Show clocks in at the usual three hours.

OR, THE TITAN (not just the Planet, which its inhabitants call Cyrkanosh)-- a Miltonic creation in verse by the unmatchable Clark Ashton Smith. Yes, exceptional, inimitable, transcendent, unparalleled, and beyond compare, if you don't care for Unmatchable. Saturn or Cronos, an Elder God was of the race of Titans. Though the later Olympians made a distinction, the Titanic clade does overlap with the later established Hellenic (Graeco-Roman) Pantheon. Circe the witch, was, for example, a Titan. So was the much-persecuted Prometheus. So was Helios, the Sun god, father of Circe. But the next Administration was comprised of the Gods we've all read about...

"And now they passed among huge mountain-bulks,
Themselves like ambulant mountains, moving slow
'Mid fettered brethren, adding weight and gloom
To that mute conclave great against the stars.
Emerging thence the Titans marched where still
Their own portentous shadows went before
Like night that fled but shrunk not, dusking all
That desert way."

Last show before Burning Man, in all probability. The standard three hours.

BY CLARK ASHTON SMITH. A story of Plutonian revenge, from the last continent of dying Earth, aeons hence, under the vast coal-red sun. In that far-removed time ancient sorceries have again been made manifest, and even the gods have given way to others. We dramatize this striking narrative, penned by the Hermit of Auburn, here for the first time. It is an often grisly tale, uncompromising in its forcefulness. We believe its entertainment value overwhelms any possible objections on behalf of a milder aesthetic. The rest of this episode continues in the usual way, enlivened by a welcome visit from KrOB. Four hours in toto [image by Serhiy Krykun].

A HISTORICAL SURVEY OF VAMPIRES... and other oddments and endments. With discourses upon many esoteric subjects. Includes: confessions of a one-time grave-robber. The Bunyip and the Whistling Teakettle. And... a timely visit from KrOB. Yes, we're back. But... how far back? Four hours of new Show.

A SHOW FOR HARD-CORE FANS ONLY-- this one does not even start until 14:14. Go there and listen to the expression of dreary, energy-draining uncertainty which makes the episode plod dispiritedly along. Bombarded by disco music which was obnoxious even in its day, vibrating through the un-insulated wall, we discover how damaged equipment keeps interrupting throughout the proceedings with blank negation of what's intended. Volume levels tend to be low. The connectors into the submixer were damaged by someone, and the slightest touch on the now-untraceable wiring tends to cut the microphone. A great weariness, exasperation with the entire enterprise-- these can be discerned, but to what end? We did an opening, a recitation, all that we usually present, but it went into the memory hole and DJ Otto/Robo DJ superseded it. Why? Did the preceding show press the dreaded Blue Button that prevents the podcast from going out? Driven by desperation, we pressed the Red button and were (partially) restored. Yet, what's the point? IT'S HARD ENOUGH TO PUT ON AN ENTERTAINING SHOW without this interpolated level of inept, insulting interruption. We were clued by the Chatterbox that nothing was being heard. And there was no indication, until quite late in the podcast, that anyone was hearing anything. This tends to drain energy, this listless not knowing whether it's worth doing... So there is a bit of Show here, with poetry, music and Stan Freberg. About 20 minutes after 1:00 AM we abandon ship. These anomalies should not be laid at our door, we think. To anyone who listened to this one, apologies-- and thanks.

SO OFTEN REQUESTED BY THE FANS, DOES APPEAR complete in this episode-- an incredible tale from artist David Normal, who in a far-off jungle during a torrential monsoon did his best, while encamped, to keep dry. And refuge from the rain was also sought by another. David relates how, lying in his bedroll, he unexpectedly felt something large and many-jointed, which had found the driest place for itself-- in his shorts, sheltering under his Family Jewels. The Red Scorpion of Asia and India (Mesobuthus tamulus) is one of the world's deadliest scorpions, with stings representing a life-threatening medical emergency. This species is distributed throughout the Indian sub-continent, including eastern Pakistan, eastern Nepal, and Sri Lanka, formerly Ceylon or Taprobane. Guest speaker David had to deal with this unwanted visitor after waking up. Hear what happened. Much is here from the great audio creations of Stan Freberg. The show also features poetry by Tolkien and Clark Ashton Smith among others. We delve deeper into the mysterious Book of Imaginary Beings. We also include many and varied musical selections of unusual quality. Three hours of this, dear fiends. Heh, heh heh... The Scorpion Story occurs at 02:49:05.

BY H. P. LOVECRAFT in his "Dunsanian" period, from the pages of WEIRD TALES-- this reading starts us off. And many and multifold are the permutations thereof. We are later joined by KrOB, and converse on topics far and afield. Radio Valencia continues, and with it we still go on as well. Four hours, just clipping off our usual "outro" theme music. WATCH: The Ask Dr. Hal! Show Home Edition, featuring a visit to an (unpleasant) alien world, our Roger Corman tribute, a musical appearance by the Dust Bowl Faeries, and more. Sunday evening, June 16th, at 6 PM Pacific-- don't miss the beginning! --at www.askdrhalshow.com

BY ROBERT BLOCH-- The Show continues, and we pursue the writers of classic supernatural fiction, particularly those of Farnsworth Wright's WEIRD TALES magazine, as well as writers who flourished among the Pulp fiction periodicals of their era. Visitors include KrOB and artist David Normal. Straight from the pages of WEIRD TALES comes Robert Bloch's story, A Question of Etiquette. We read this tale of a census taker caught up in Witchcraft when interviewing an actual Witch, which involves the flight through the air to the Sabbat and its Master, Satan Mekatrig. KrOB reminisces about Sinbad's 7th Voyage, as we are both wont to do. Then David brings in an enormous box of plastic-wrapped Pulp magazines-- and we read samples from them, from the sublime Clark Ashton Smith to the irrepressible Pulpmeister Robert Laslie Bellem (from the extinct publication HOLLYWOOD DETECTIVE). 'Tis a cozy scene, lasting for an extra hour, four hours in all. We seem back on track, but the End of the Line could be reached at any time, of course, if recent struggles offer any guidance. Try us again next week. And also try, won't you, the next iteration of ASK DR. HAL! --the Home Edition, an online interactive video presentation. The Webinar begins at 6:00 PM Pacific Time, or for East Coast participants, 9:00 PM. It's on Twitch via Zppm. but all you need to do is go on Sunday at Six to www.askdrhalshow.com --we have cartoons, Monster Movie Moments-- we set the whole megilla in magnum motion. See you there!