Some of you may be too young to remember.  Or maybe you’ve just been locked inside too long, working on your sourdough starters and color-commenting your pets’ behaviors.  But there was a time we had these things that would take us from place to place.  Small, metal buildings that we would fill up with volatile liquids in order to cause controlled explosions that propelled us down surfaces made of crushed rocks and tar.  In addition to volatile liquids, we occasionally filled them with our friends, family, and fast food containers.  We called them cars.  And in those cars we had this thing called a radio.  On these radios, we could pull sound out of the air and then listen to the sounds while sitting in our moving buildings.  The sounds would be amazing.

People arguing about politics.  People yelling at each other at the top of their lungs about football.  News breaks.  Ads for all sorts of things to buy in your area.  Occasionally, very mainstream, bubblegum music that sounds like you’ve heard it before or classic rock you’ve actually heard before would be the sounds that filled your moving building.  But radio died a while back, I’m pretty sure.  And radio stayed dead until 2018, when Conan O’Brien invented the podcast.* 

(*this is a joke)

In a stunning showing of what’s old is new again, thanks to podcasts, a whole generation’s new radio is previously recorded radio.  Back in the day, if you wanted to make a radio show in your basement or closet, you had a pirate radio station.  And that sort of thing used to be illegal (it still is, as far as I know, since the Radio Act of 1912).  But now you can record a podcast and post it to any number of podcast sites.  There are shows out there for basically whatever you want to hear, thanks to the relatively low barriers to entry for podcasting (some half decent recording equipment, editing software, a friend or two to work with, and the time to record, edit, and publish seems to be all it takes; of course, I’ve as of yet been unable to get mine off the ground), all sorts of voices get to be heard.  If you want to listen to folks talk about movies, there’s a podcast for you.  If you want to hear about LGTBQ+ issues and/or perspectives, there’s a podcast for you.  If you want to hear about theme parks (which I didn’t think I did), there are multiple podcasts for you.  Although, I will say, as a South Asian man myself, I do find the voices to be overwhelmingly white, but I suppose that’s another issue altogether, one into which I’m not currently prepared to dive.  

I got into podcasts only a couple years ago.  Way back in college, I listened to my local radio’s morning show, which was recorded and published as a podcast—it was a piece of home for when I was far away—but in the decade plus after that, I ignored the medium.  I was a 1L when Serial was hitting the airwaves, but I still wasn’t enticed then.  It was when, one day, a podcast called Rogue Fun followed me on Twitter.  I gave that show a chance and have since been tumbling down a series of caves as I listen to more and more shows.  Some are as simple as a few friends discussing an interesting topic.  Some are part of larger podcast networks.  Some are audiodramas with high production values.  Some are The Adventure Zone, which has been filling my ears almost nonstop during this quarantine.  But there’s more to podcasts than just The Adventure Zone.

First I want to tell you a little about the show that started me down this rabbit hole.

Rogue Fun 

On the surface, this sounds like a podcast fever dream of an insane Star Wars fan that has only ever seen Rogue One.  Starting with the concept that Rogue One is the best Star Wars movie (look, don’t get me wrong, it’s great; but The Last Jedi is the best Star Wars movie and I’ll fight you on that) and that each scene is capable of being dissected on the level of the most exalted tomes of the past.  The hosts Alice White and T.H. Ponders (and later, Buddy Duquesne) go through an exegesis of Rogue One—that is to say that they get the fine-toothed comb, an even finer one, and some tweezers, and those watchmaker glasses with the multiple strengths of loupe on them, and they really, really get in deep.  I’m talking about an average of an hour to ninety-minutes of discussion on an average of a ten minute segment of the movie.  What sounds, at first, like having your teeth pulled by George Lucas while he explains why Jar Jar was the best character in Star Wars actually is an eye-opening experience.  It’s not just praise heaped on Rogue One, but the show gets deep into little details your eyes catch and your mind comprehends, but on an unconscious level.  Like how Jyn Erso’s mother wears red under her clothes and then later in the movie Chirrut Imwe does the same, as he takes on the spiritual burden of being Jyn’s mother.  I understood it, I just didn’t take it from the unconscious brain to the conscious one.  And this podcast really helps you to do that.  It’s loaded with clever insights and personal stories that really hit you where it counts.  Furthermore, it truly deepened my appreciation for a movie that I liked, but felt was basically just a Star Wars version of Guns of Navarone, and turned it into a movie I love.  And that’s really something special.  In a time of being locked down, maybe taking a moment or two to find a deeper appreciation of things isn’t such a bad idea, either.

Those Happy Places

I can’t really talk about Rogue Fun without talking about Those Happy Places.  Sharing hosts with the current iteration of Rogue Fun, this was another podcast concept that sounded like a creative form of torture just before the killer really gets going.  It’s a literary analysis of theme park rides.  Hey, I’m always up for some literary analysis, but theme park rides?  As an adult without children who hasn’t been to a theme park in over 15 years, what could I possibly get out of this show?  If I never go to a theme park again, I wouldn’t miss them (or so I thought, before I started listening to this show and before Disney opened Galaxy’s Edge); but again, the co-hosting team of Alice White and Buddy Duquesne bring the personal stories and the insights, and, most importantly, the fun to the show with their stories and analyses.  Not only that, they tackle some serious issues too, like colonialism, authenticity, and misogyny, and they do it without kid gloves, but with sensitivity.  It’s really a fun show to listen to, even as someone who doesn’t really give much of a damn about theme parks.  While the show is understandably Disney-centric, they also take the time to talk about more offbeat attractions like Knott’s Berry Farm, the Mystery Spot, and Sonoma’s baffling Train Town.  Even if you’re like me and you don’t think theme parks are much your jam, I say give them a try.  The show isn’t serialized, for the most part, so you can start at the beginning or jump right into any episode that catches your fancy.  Every ten episodes they do a special show with contributions from fans and listeners, and naturally, as I’m a vain person (which I think you have to be to write a blog and think people will be interested in what you have to say), one of my favorites is Episode 30: Ride Fiction Extravaganza, which features a piece I wrote, as well as other creative stories from their very talented listeners.  But if you’re sick of me by the end of this, I would start with Episode 15: The Jungle Cruise, Comedy and Colonialism or Episode 25: Mickey Mouse as Empty Signifier.  Since you can’t go to theme parks right now (and who knows how long it’ll be before we will be able to go back, I say as I look at my cancelled San Diego Comic-Con and Galaxy’s Edge plans), Those Happy Places really is the next best choice.  

The Adventure Zone

Chances are, if you’re listening to podcasts on the regular, you’re familiar with the McElroys already.  If, like me, you got into podcasts incredibly late, maybe this is news to you.  They’re a family that seems to pump out an unending line of podcasts on the Maximum Fun network, but the one that has me, well, there’s no better word for it, enthralled, is The Adventure Zone.  As I struggled to accept the part of me who watched the D&D episode of Community and thought that D&D actually looked like a good bit of fun, this actual play podcast of a Dungeons and Dragons game among the three brothers and their father evolved into some of the most compelling storylines I’ve heard in a long time.  Sometimes the storytelling is so vivid and so intense that I forget I’m just listening and it takes an ad break for me to snap back to reality and wonder what I was watching and why the TV is off before I realize it’s just a radio show.  They’ve branched out from Dungeons and Dragons and have played other tabletop RPGs, but the concept seems to remain the same.  One of the four takes the role of dungeon master, gamemaster, keeper, or whatever it’s called, and the other three play in worlds conjured out of their imaginations, playing characters that feel—if not always sound—distinct from one another.  I haven’t even gotten myself current with the show yet; I’m through the first campaign, Balance, and almost done the second campaign Amnesty.  And I’m almost dreading finishing Amnesty because I don’t want it to end.  Over the past few weeks (which of course took them years; it started in January 2018), the characters and the town of Kepler have become so real to me that they’ve become very dear.  I’m not ready to say goodbye to them.  I listen in the mornings while getting ready, I’ve started listening while I work out, I listen before I go to bed.  I spend so much time listening to TAZ: Amnesty that I have been finding new reasons to sequester myself with my headphones.  I’ve been cleaning and organizing my closet as an excuse to listen to more Amnesty.  TAZ is truly a special podcast and its fantastical premise is a perfect escape for this time when we can’t just grab our axes and swords and run off on a quest.  

Actually, for the record, don’t do that even when the quarantine is lifted, that’s probably going to get you killed.  But you know what I mean.  

Oh No Ross and Carrie

Here’s another one I’m more than fashionably late to the party on, but ONRAC feels like a podcast tailor-made for my interests.  As I voraciously devoured over 8 years worth of investigations, I bored everyone I knew with their stories.  In the before times, I would go to the gym and start talking about the attractiveness of Raelism (I’m not joining a cult, though, promise, but if I were, this one sounds like fun), the insanity of doing ayahuasca at the Rythmia Life Advancement Center in Costa Rica, or the healing power of crystals (spoiler alert, there isn’t any).  ONRAC starts off with very accessible investigations.  Tarot card readers, storefront psychics, and the like.  But as the show got bigger, the investigations got deeper, and more involved.  If you ever wondered what it was like to join Scientology, Ross and Carrie are there for you.  Never more than through those 15 hours or so of Scientology investigations did I feel the show’s tagline to be more accurate—Ross and Carrie show up so you don’t have to.  But don’t despair—despite the fact they investigate fringe science, paranormal claims, and fringe religions, the show is never mean-spirited.  The two science-minded hosts go into every investigation with an open, but inquisitive mind; though that’s not to say they don’t often have their doubts about things.  They’re always open to implausible claims being true if they can be proven, which is a position I can really admire, especially at times when they’re investigating groups like flat earthers or heading the Tony Alamo Christian Ministries compound.  I love not only learning from this podcast, but also the journalistic integrity with which they report and the fun they have along the way.  I think any ONRAC fan has his or her favorite investigation, but mine has to be the flat earthers.  It’s the kind of show you can pick up almost any episode and really fall into it (unless it’s in the middle of a multi-part investigation), so you can really just pick one and jump right in.  

Podcast 13

If you took my advice in the last piece and started watching Warehouse 13, then this should be an easy sell.  Podcast 13 is a deep dive watch-along podcast with two intersectional feminist hosts who use their platform to go beyond the show’s 42 minutes and really get into the details.  They bring on artifact experts, they highlight marginalized voices, and create an atmosphere as warm and inviting as the show Warehouse 13 does itself.  The two hosts are longtime friends and it shows in their easy chemistry and jovial interactions.  If you’re a fan of Warehouse 13, it’s a must listen.  And as I’m rewatching Warehouse 13, I’m also revisiting episodes of Podcast 13 (which is currently on hiatus, making it a great time to catch up on previous episodes).  I’ve got some favorite shows, but this one makes sense to just start at the beginning and listen as you watch each episode of Warehouse 13.  It really is a truly joyful podcast that always brightens my day when I see it in my podcatcher.  

Fullmetal Bazinga

I don’t know if you’re a fan of The Big Bang Theory or not, but I’m not going to judge.  I am, but I’ll keep it to myself.  There’s a place, I suppose, for mean-spirited, easy, bad comedy that lacks nuance and allows you to turn your brain off and kill time like it’s your enemy, but I’m not here to discuss that either.  We can do that some other time.  Even better than that, you should listen to Fullmetal Bazinga.  The folks from Left Trigger Right Trigger (a neat video game podcast that’s well worth checking out in its own right) decided to make a watch-along podcast for the final season of The Big Bang Theory.  But what starts off as four people sitting around talking about a show they very clearly do not like morphs into part watch-along, part audiodrama, and part reality-bending adventurescape that somehow manages to take mindless entertainment and turn it into one of the strangest, most wonderful life-affirming journeys I’ve ever had the pleasure of listening to.  The first few episodes of the show are pretty straightforward, but around episode four or five, the tram lines very much go off the rails and an epic battle for the very soul of humanity begins.  I cannot overstate how weird and worth it this podcast is.  You don’t need to have watched the final season of The Big Bang Theory.  You don’t need to like the show.  You don’t need to dislike the show.  A basic familiarity with the source material might be useful, but even still, you can get by without it.  Throughout the thirty or so half-hour-ish episodes, I found myself laughing out loud more times than strictly advisable, confused, delighted, trying to solve a mystery, and towards the end, oddly enough, with my eyes welling.  Of course, since The Big Bang Theory is no more, this podcast has ended, so there’s no need to rush out and listen to this one, but there’s something noteworthy about this throwaway-joke-from-another-podcast-turned-runaway-train that you really should experience for yourself.  

I know this has been a long one, so if you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading and sticking with me.  I could go on about podcasts all day, and have, and have been told to shut up about them several times.  So I definitely applaud you for getting all the way to the end of this.  I haven’t decided what subject I’m going to tackle for the next installment, but I’m leaning towards video games that I’m replaying and how they’re helping me cope.  Until then, stay safe, stay home (if you can), and stay tuned. If you want to discuss this or any other of my blog content, you can catch up with me on Twitter @aslamchoudhury.