Cool Zone Media book Club, book Club, book Club, book Club Club Club. Welcome to Coolson Media book Club, the only book club that starts with asynchronous chanting, unless your book club is as cool as ours.
Yeah, the New York Reviewer of Books does that, but because they're all a bunch of fucking East Coast elites, they don't let anyone hear their asynchronous chanting. Yeah, so find the staff of the New York Review of Books on the Internet and harass them at their real homes until they send you audio of their chance.
Or go on an epic journey to find the staff of the Book of Reviews or whatever it was, which is an ancient artifact and not a person's job. You have a lot of options. So, as you probably guessed, because you all are creepily aware of the sounds of our voices, I'm your host, Margaret Kiljoy, and my guest today is Robert Evans.
You'r gosh darn toutin rutin right, So.
I hope you all are ready because we're starting a whole new actual book. Today is gonna be another four parter, which is how he started this whole thing.
That's right, we're finally doing the Bible.
Yeah, that's right.
When the Abrahamick God reached out to you a couple of months ago saying, you know, I've got this thing that I wrote that might fit for your book club. You and I kind of hesitated a little, but I think he's put in the hours at this point he deserves a shot, you know.
You know, it's like kind of inconsistent in a lot of places, and some of it's downright means spirited, other parts shine.
Yeah, I think this guy, I think he's got like a temper, right. I feel like, you know, when he's his best self, there's some pretty good moments. But man, he really needs to take a nap or something.
You know, we shouldn't judge people based on the worst things they've ever done consistently over the course of millennia. That's right, only on the best things. But no, today we're talking about our other god, Cory Doctorow, who probably doesn't want to be considered a deity at all.
No, but I think he might fuck up some money changers in a temple if he got the opportunity.
He would absolutely. Corey doctor Row is one of my favorite science fiction authors and has been for a long time. Yeah.
Absolutely.
I have yet to read a Cory Doctor book that I didn't like, but there's a lot of them, and I haven't read them all.
Yeah, I have not read his entire Ouvra. I've read at least a dozen of his books, including walk Away, which I understand this is related to. Yeah, walk Away is one of my favorite books that I've read in the last ten years, like top three or four, probably somewhere in there, along with your new book, The Sapling Cage.
Oh, you mean the one that actually kickstarts tomorrow at one pm Eastern and if you look for it by Monday, June tenth, you will be able to back it on Kickstarter. Is that the one that you're talking about?
Well, Margaret, to me, time is a flat circle. I have come unstuck from time like Billy Pilgrim from another one of my favorite books by Bonnagat, which was not written in the last ten years, and thus I am unable to account for when things are. But that does sound accurate to me.
Okay, Well, it's not a lot I keep track of, but I keep track of the fact that I just got out of a meetum with my publisher to do the last minute getting the Kickstarter stuff together, and I'm excited about it. But what I want to get people excited about is a novella, which is clearly if you look at what I've written, my favorite form of writing, which is basically a real short novel.
Yeah.
It's called Party Discipline and it's by Cory Doctro.
Excellent.
It was first published by Reactor, which was then called tour dot Com in twenty seventeen on their website. This is set in the same universe as walk Away. For everyone who's listening. If you haven't, go read walk Away. It's way longer than this this one short.
Is there any background we need to give the listeners so that this will make sense?
Now?
This one it stands on its own.
Okay, cool?
Yeah?
Party Discipline by Cory Doctor. I don't remember how we decided exactly to throw Communist Party. It had been a running joke all through senior year, whenever the obvious divisions between the Semizadas and the rest of us came too close to the surface of Burbank High have fun at Stanford, Come drink with us at the Communist parties when you're back on break. The semi Zadas were mostly white, with some Asians not the brown kind for spice. The non
Zadas were brown and black. And we were on our way out out of Burbank Hi and out of Burbank too. Our parents had lucked into lottery tickets buying houses in Burbank back when they were only ridiculously expensive. Now they were crazy. We'd be the last generation of brown kids to go to Burbank High because the instant we graduated, our parents were going to sell and use the money to go somewhere cheaper, and the leftovers would let us.
I'll take a couple of mid range MOOCs from a big ten university to round out our community college distanced degrees. It was nearly time for finals May, and it was hot, over one hundred degrees every day, and we were all a little crazy. There were the Romeos and Juliets who are feeling the impending tragedy of their inevitable breakup. The kids who knew they weren't cut out for university or couldn't afford it, had no clue what they would do next.
The ones who had kept their noses to their screens for four years, busting their humps to get top marks and were just now realizing that none of it mattered for shit. And then there was me. I like to hang out with my bestie Cherell at the back of the portables, by the old basketball court, where there was a gap in the CCTV coverage that the school filled with intermittent drone flybys. It was where the vapor kids hung out, But I wasn't one of them. Even decaf
crack wasn't my idea of a good time. I just like to be a little off the grid, because your business is your business.
You know.
My cousin got laid off. Cherrell's smart fingernails were infected with ransomware, again, refusing to work on payment touch points and blinking in seizure time. She was awkwardly trying to patch them, pressing each one's hard reset while tapping her phone to it. But it was a job that really needed a third hand, and since I'd told her that this was going to happen, I refused to help. She was sitting against the portable wall with her knees drawn
up and her phone balanced on them. Mikhail no Antoine, the sheet metal guy. It had been decades since Lockheed Martin left Burbank, but there were plenty of remnants of its glory days, including all the metal shops that had supplied it. Antoine had worked at three or four of these, hopping around as they got shut down. Then he'd got a job in Encino that meant a long commute but was supposed to be a steady check. And Robert Evans, do you know what you can do with your steady check?
Spend it on the thing that gives us a steady check, whoever happens to be advertised for this podcast.
At the moment, it's almost like a cyberpunk thing itself that this is cut through that.
It's almost like we live in a cyberpunk dystopia, except for I cannot get a move by wire system installed in my central nervous system or titanium bone lacings, and I'm livid about that. Not yet, not yet, not yet.
I'm sure someone will do a terrible version that play ads inside your skull.
Yeah. I would much prefer the shadow run version where we randomly turn into mythical creatures. But we also have laser guns, so somebody make that happen.
It really is the best of both worlds.
It really is. I want to vote for a dragon for president. We had so many presidents that are more depressing than a dragon.
I know, at least it's interesting.
Yeah, like these ads, unless you skip them.
And we're back. That job seems too good to be true. Turns out they had a five year tax holiday from Encino and it ran out this year. If Antoine had been smart enough to look it up, he'd have known that they weren't going to last pass July. She got one fingernail done, moved on to the next one. What's happened to the factory? She got another fingernail done, then dropped her phone. Fucky darn. I kicked it back to her thanks. I think she wedged the phone again and
tried to reset her third nail. That they're doing it up and out. That was when a company's tax incentives ran out, and then the company ran out too, shutting down an arm's length subsidiary through fast bankruptcy and leaving its creditors. The people who worked there say to sort out the sale of its assets. Up and outs made sense because companies were hollow. They leased everything and contracted
everything out. The leasing companies didn't beef because they had a sweet loophole they could take a write off on the equipment that was based on the full replacement value, despite having already taken depreciation and fees for the whole time the plant had run. We'd done a CIVIX for Business unit on it as part of the curriculum on
generally accepted accounting practices. Of course, the people who worked there often found themselves shot out of luck when it came to their last paycheck, and sometimes that least equipment would walk out the door. In the days running up to the out and up and out, I was hungry like always. Mom didn't believe in SCOP and I didn't want to piss her off, so I wouldn't eat out of the vending machines at school. But that meant if I didn't remember throw an apple in my bag, my
stomach would growl all the way to lunch. Got anything to eat. She finished the fifth nail in her left hand and fished in her purse and passed me some leptin gum, which was supposed to enhance satiety and help people like Charelle stick to the diets they had no need to be on in the first place. I didn't like to chew it, but my stomach was rumbling. I unwrapped a stick and chewed it. It tasted like caramelized hemi proteins, which is to say, cooked blood in a
good way, like a burger. Thanks to the transgenic yea it was cultured with. My stomach stopped making noise. Maybe it worked. Maybe it was the placebo effect. You sure about that? Up and out? I tried not to sound too interested. Cherrelle had a severe case of risk aversion. Girl her side, I could have cut a thousand yards, but I had been immune to it since ninth grade.
Come on, Charelle, just asking. It's a daydream. Communist parties were one of my favorite daydreams to dream me and my revolutionary comrades, and are funny Karl mark S beards, liberating a whole factory under the noses of cops in the town, running all those machines, and giving away free shit until the feedstock ran out. My dream parties didn't
usually take place at a sheet metal factory. I liked the idea of taking over a scop factory where they made burgers or candy or ice cream, because then I would be the person who gave everyone free candy or burgers. Or ice cream, but I take sheet metal. This is the only thing going. I could learn my skills there. And also Mama wouldn't kill me for the scop thing if she found out. Damned health food crazies, Linney. She sounded like her own mama when she warned, but I
wasn't scared of her mama. I was scared of my mama, and her mama sounded nothing like mine. Really, the whole basis of our lasting friendship was my immunity to all her secret weapons, which would otherwise burn you down in your shoes the first time she spatted with you, it's a daydream like. Saying it twice would make it more believable. You're gonna ask someone else if I don't tell you, aren't you? I didn't deign to answer. I'll hold your
phone while you do your other hand. She tried the side eye again, then she put it away and patted the ground next to her. Hold my phone, then go on. Once she'd done her right thumb, she said, it'sn't up and out. Yeah, And a lot of the workers there aren't happy about it. Wages have been really delayed lately. Lots of people owed a lot of back pay, especially people who are out on sick pay. People got injured on the job, can't go down to the payroll office
in person. O, there's talk talk. She shook her head. You're going to make me spell it out talk. They're going to run some shifts after the place shuts down, sell things out the back door. Whatever they can make back the money. They know they're going to be burned for. In case you don't understand, Missy, that means no communist parties. I sighed and moved her phone to the last finger. No party, then, nope, forget a girl. Concentrate on graduating.
B students don't get scholarships. This was a running joke between us, because A students didn't get scholarships either. I mean they did, but at a rate you'd have to be nuts to count on, like basing your life plan
on winning the lottery every ten years. Because there were way way more kids with brokeass parents and sharp minds than there were spaces left behind by the dullards who made it into the university on quote merit and by taking the quote no assistance required box on their applications. I was an a student anyway. She called me that night after mama's lights out, no phones, blackout time. My little sister Tisha stared at me from her bed when I took the call and mouthed, I'm telling I rolled
my eyes at her. She wouldn't tell. Titia was still developing her low cunning, and there was plenty of stuff i'd caught her in that she didn't want me blabbing to mama. In retaliation, it's late, I whispered, your mama's crazy.
Cherrell's mama was strict too, but not about bedtimes. She was an insomniac, and so were her kids, and she taught them her coping skills of doing all their homework, showering, laying out their clothes, and packing their lunches at two am so they could rise twenty minutes before first bell, pee and wash their faces and be on campus with seconds to spare. You call me up after curfew to tell me that. Send a text next time Antoine called us,
all thought you'd want to know. I almost said, who's Antoine? And then I remembered her cousin, the sheet metal worker. Oh you want to know what he said? Don't play game, Cherill. I'm not trying to wake up my Mama Tisha staring at me like she caught me strangling a cat too. Hi, Tisha. It was loud enough that Tisha heard it through the earpiece. I winced high, Cherrelle, she mouthed and grinned. She says, Hi, Now what is it? Cherrell? Antoine called you said that.
He said, the reason the plant is shutting down so fast isn't just about the tax credits. He said, there was a wobbley in the shop, someone trying to get everyone to sign a union card. Union organizing was a fireable offense, had been since I was a little girl, but that didn't mean it didn't happen, and if enough of the workers signed a card, the factory wouldn't be allowed to stop paying taxes until the California Labor Board had completed its investigation. Antoine says the other workers are
pissed at the wobbley, not stupid at the bosses. Antoine says that before all this, most of the employees didn't really give a damn about the wobbley in her nonsense, and now it's got everyone thinking, got them thinking about making an example of the plant. They get away with this next time, they'll be even worse, hold up, get away with what? Just listen okay. I realized she was excited, really excited. The wobbly got deported born in America on
everything they sent her to Guatemala. Said her parents were undocumented when she was born here, so that makes her an anchor baby. Everybody is pissed, Like I said, they know it's just bullshit, an excuse to get rid of her because she'd come sniffing around the shop. Antoine says none of them gave a damn when she was talking about helping them, but when she got deported for trying out comes all this corny talk about it being on American to shut her down. They're gonna let us have
a communist party. She made a sound between a squeal and a cheer, and Tisha's eyes got wild. I cut her my sternest look so she didn't jump right out of the bed and tell Mama when she just heard. And I realized with a sinking feeling, that I was going to have to get my little sister involved. If I didn't wanted to wrap me out, Mama would kill me. The gravity of it fell down on top of me. It was one thing to daydream about this another to planet.
I'd have to do a lot of googling. He's one of those darknet googles that I can't even remember how to reach, So that meant i'd have to get one of those brainiac nerds at school to explain it again, which meant they'd know I was looking up something forbidden, which meant that I'd be even more exposed. And you aren't even listening to me, are you? Line uh nu huh no, Sorry, chill just thinking it through. Damn are we really gonna we are? You don't get us caught first.
Antoine met us at the Froyo place off San Fernando, the sketchy part near the dead Ikea that had been all cut up for little market stalls that were mostly empty. I hadn't seen him since we've been freshman and he'd been a senior, and in the years since, he'd got strangely grayish, his skin sagging off his face and his hair shot with white, like he was an old man.
He looked like he hadn't been sleeping much either. He made a sign at us, a thing with his hands like the kids had done to pass messages around the classroom back when we'd been kids. It took me a second to remember that this one meant phones down, school cops coming. I couldn't figure out what that was supposed to mean. But Charrell got it and reached into a purse and shut her phone down. Now I got it. I did the same. We'd both been infected before, of course,
drive by bad wear. That let some creepy Rando spy on us through our phones. But then we got more careful. But he wasn't worried about Rando spying through our phone. He was worried about cops. You think Burbank PD is going to bother with you? I wanted to ask, but the fact was maybe they would. Why not, once they bought that kind of thing, why wouldn't they want to use it every chance they got? I probably would. Damn. He looked us up and down, not like a perf,
but like a grown up judging a little kid. You two are so young. I don't know if this was such a good idea. Schreelle gave him an up and down of her own. Antwine, we're only five years younger than you. Fool smart too. Besides, it was Linai's idea, not yours. That was news to me far as I knew he'd had the idea told Cherrell and she'd said, oh, Linaise said the same thing. But the way he shook his head, I knew it was true. He'd got the idea from me. That made me feel pretty badass. Tell
the truth. Okay, okay, your mama will kill me though a twine. Okay, there's he lowered his voice. Forty five of us and one guy. He says he spoke to a wobbly and they're pissed about what happened to that girl, and they say they'll help. We got all skills in hands. We need to get it running, but we don't know how we get the word out without getting popped. Who do you want to reach? I've been wondering about this myself. I didn't really know much about sheet metal except it was,
you know, metal that came in sheets. What would you do with a bunch of that stuff around the house. We don't know either. Antoine looked anxious, more anxious. He dry washed those big knuckled hands. We can make just about anything we got a file for, and there's plenty of files out there. You want a fireplace around or a new truck, bumper. We got you covered. Don't know many people who need a truck bumper, Chrell said, I know.
Antoine gave her a shut up look that was brotherly, reminding me that they'd been close since they were little. There's all kinds of toys we can make, too, little cars and shit. He looked at us, like, you think that'll do it. I don't think we're going to strike terror into the hearts of the investor class by giving away little cars. Antoine, sorry, because that was the point, right, give us all part, give them sorrows. I hadn't really thought about where sheet metal fit into that framework. He
shook his head. He knew it too. What were you making Uber parts? He shrugged. Mostly for the vans, you know. La Metro had been using the vans for most of my life, though I could still remember when there had been city buses before the contract went out to Uber. The vans were boxing and indestructible, covered in some kind of slippery treatment that you couldn't write on or mark, which gave off a funky musty smell, like old socks
when the sun baked it. But you know what won't give off a funky musty smell Robert.
While the Washington State Highway Patrol might that's true. Some complaints have been made, but yeah, nothing else, no one else who advertises for us.
We apply special cool zone media covering that anti bad smell.
And we've been told that the Chumba casino people have excellent hygie.
So I'm always too afraid to name them by name, but that is stuck in my head.
I have no reason to doubt the Chumba Casino people on this, Margaret.
No, isn't it?
No?
I would never tested them.
As a general rule, casinos are known for being incredibly good at not having you smell things that are unpleasant. That's why you can chain smoke indoors in Vegas.
Yeah, they are known as plaices of hygiene.
Palaces of hygiene, and incredibly expensive air filtration systems.
And here's an ad for probably that, And Rebecca, I watched the people mill around the Hawker's stalls, smelling the Korean tacos and the papoosas cooking, and wondering whether any of it was real food instead of scop. I'd skip breakfast that morning, and I was hungry. The food was probably scop, judging from the clientele, who were mostly homeless, and Mama wouldn't approve, so I didn't eat, even though my stomach growled. According to my science teachers, single celled
organic protein was safe and healthy. According to Mama, it was a large scale experiment in feeding mutated bacteria to humans. Mama liked to point out that rich people didn't need stop. They didn't drink coffee m either, but that never stopped Mama. She also had a lapel pin that read, a foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds. Mama is one of a kind. The homeless were accompanied by their inevitable companions,
be lovingly tended rusting ancient shopping carts. It had been years since it was possible to remove a shopping cart from a grocery store without being caught, but the number of people who used the carts as home locker and pack mule had only grown in the years since, creating fierce competition for the old dumb carts. These ones looked particularly raggy. Antoine and Cherrell had kept talking while I stared at the carts, but eventually they followed my stare.
I looked at them, and they looked back at me. Those would be easy. Antoine sounded dismissive, so Cherrell said, you want to make something hard or something useful. I put my hand on his shoulder. Antoine, you make those, You'll be making something that everyone will see every day for years and years to come. His eyes glinted, Yeah. Yeah. He looked at the sky for a minute. I bet there's all kinds of ways we can improve him too.
Bet there's designs for better ones like crazy too, from the refugee camps.
I know.
I saw him in a news clip or something that's amazing. He grinned, and he was as handsome as he'd been when I was a freshman and he was the captain of the senior swim team. I told myself that the flip flops in my stomach were hunger, not crushing. It was only five minutes before final bell when the school
went on lockdown. We all groaned as our homeroom teacher, mister Pizitken, sprinted to the classroom door and swung down the bar, slapping the button that pulled oar eyed the classroom windows, including the little one in the door itself, plunging the room into darkness. The groan made Pizitken glare at us with his finger on his lips. Rule one in lockdowns, no words, rule too. Silently build a shelter
of bullet absorbing furniture, and then hunker down. Nearly everything in the classroom was made of waxed cardboard and wasn't about to stop any artillery, not even crossbows. Yeah, some fools actually went on school shootings armed with crossbows. But the room had once been a science lab and there was a big work bench running the length of the wall made of steel and concrete, with long plugged hookups
or burners along its length. Previous lockdown drills had established that this was our designated shelter, so we shuffled behind it. It's not that we weren't worried about getting shot, but we also knew that lockdowns were nine times out of ten hoaxes. Some fool center texts said gonna be at school later, and it got auto corrected to guns be at school later, and that tripped burbank SWAT's paranoid fusion
Center security AI. Then we all had to hide behind the lab bench for half an hour while the toy soldier squad did a sweep of the school, we hunkered down and texted each other. The school deactivated its network filters during lockdown so we could text status updates to the cops or our last words to our loved ones,
and made dumb jokes. Our messages were interrupted every thirty seconds by reminders to stay silent and vigilant broadcast on the school's administrative emergency channel by the school Safety Office. On top of that, there were the actual status updates, officers en route, officers on site, North Wing sweep complete, South Wing sweep, complete, portables sweep complete. More of this, then all clear, All clear, All clear, followed by an
announcement out of every phone speaker in the room. Only phones that ran the school Safety app would work on school property, so we all ran it, But dang, it was some creepy shit. I left the classroom thinking about my homework and whether I was supposed to pick up Tishae from band practice. And I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't noticed the guy in the suit until he put a hand on my shoulder as I was heading for my locker. Linney Walker just the way he said it gave him away as a cop.
I felt my heart rate triple yes, please come with me. He steered me to the administrative office. The secretary on the front desk pointedly didn't stare at me as he led me into one of the VP's offices. The first thing I noticed was my backpack on the desk, surrounded by its contents, and next to it Charrell's bag and its contents too. That was when I noticed Cherrelle sitting on a low sofa. The cop indicated the spot next to her with a tilt of his head, and I sat.
The late afternoon sun slanting through the window caught the huge fart of dusty air that escaped from its cushions. When I settled in, Charrell coughed a little and caught my eye. She looked scared, really scared. Which seems like a good place for a cliffhanger, and therefore the place that it ends this week. Yay. I think it's interesting how this was written in twenty seventeen.
Yeah, I wouldn't have guessed that just from the actual pros.
But you know, it's also like a lot of the stuff about the expansion of homelessness, like the fact that the like shopping carts have turned into these ancestral items as the number of people in the streets have expanded, and you know, the kind of acceleration of mass shooting culture and the responses to it, particularly the bit about a kid accidentally tripping the local pds AI scanning thing or whatever by accidentally tweeting something that sounds like gun.
I guess all of that is stuff that like, yeah, I mean in twenty seventeen, if you're looking ahead, I can see how Corey you know, kind of picked that stuff out in a way that feels kind of prophetic.
But yeah, yeah. And then also the person who gets deported for labor or organizing, you know, as like an anchor baby or whatever is like, I mean, that's the kind of thing that I mean, the right wing has been on about for a long time, right, I.
Mean it happened in the twenties, right, Like you had like wobbly as and anarchists who were like various kinds of you know, organizers get deported under some of the laws at that time.
Yeah. And then also just like specifically that like the anchor baby thing, the you know, guaranteed US citizenship to people born here is a thing that the right wing is always howling and yelling about how they want to get rid of and I hope that one doesn't come out true. I hope none of this comes out true except people throwing communist parties where they get weird three D printers on factory level to pronount free things for people.
Yeah. I mean, I guess I would prefer kids with crossbows to kids with ar fifteens, but not because either is good. It's just one of them is going to kill fewer people.
Yeah. I wonder whether that's like a you know, oh, this is what they had access to. People will do anything, or I wonder if at this implication that the way that school shooters develop as like such a meme. Now some people are just trying, like clever ways to go be the worst kind of person.
Yeah. I think there's probably a point there about how like, if somehow, in some inconceivable way, we got rid of all of the guns tomorrow, mass shootings like attacks like that are still such a part of the culture that people would find ways to carry them out. You know, I think they would. Yeah, Basically, anything I can imagine
is less deadly than what we currently have. But now because it's a part of the culture, people would carry out kinds of attacks with shit like crossbows that like, if this hadn't developed into a meme the way it would, they probably never would have started doing because this isn't uniquely America. You know, Serbia's had a recent spate of mass shootings, But like Serbia's mass shooting, I think every country's mass shootings really are at this point patterned on
the way they work in America. So we don't need to go into too much of a aggression on that.
Yo, American exceptionalism. We're number one. We're number one about this. No one else is really in the running. Well, next week we're going to find out not the conclusion, but part two of four of Party Discipline by Cory Doctor. But you know what else, Corey Doctro wrote, He wrote a really sweet blurb for my book.
He did.
I wrote a book called The Sapling Cage that we talked about beginning and Monday, June tenth, twenty twenty four. It is available for pre order through Kickstarter. Comes out in September, although one of the backer tiers is actually you'll get sent a copy early because there's a couple
advanced reader copies left over. But what Corey Doctor wrote about my book, The Sapling Cage is a cracking, first rate, epic coming of fantasy novel where the crisis of gender identity only heightens the stakes and suspense of a propulsive, page turning tale. A nice blurb just to talk about how writing is this weird thing of networking. Like I know Corey Doctro and we met when he taught at the Clarion West Writer's Workshop in Seattle that I went to in twenty fifteen, And at that I had a
long conversation with him about my writing. You know, I had a couple of books out, but I was like still kind of just finding my feet, you know, as a writer. One of the things that I really like is he talked about how with science fiction and fantasy, authors pride themselves on making sure that there's this plot, there's this like engine that drives the story forward, and you can talk about any ideas you want, and if you attach it to plot, you're able to like keep
the reader engaged. In a way that has really stuck with me and made me think about how I write. And it's one of the reasons I like how Corey writes so much. Right Like this story is about some teens who want to get into some trouble, and it also is like, here's the way that factories fuck over poor communities, you know. Anyway, anyway, so y'all next week.
We'll be back in seven days.
It Could Happen here as a production of cool Zone Media. For more podcasts from cool Zone Media, visit our website coolzonemedia dot com, or check us out on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to podcasts. You can find sources for It Could Happen Here, updated monthly at coolzonemedia dot com slash sources. Thanks for listening.