You have nothing to fear: Welcome to Night Vale West Coast Tour

If you’re following me on Tumblr, you’ve probably already seen these — but hey, it’s my blog and I’ll spam if I want to.

Welcome to Night Vale Seattle, Cecil et al! Last night my sister and I, along with various friends, went to the first live show of the WTNV West Coast Tour. I dressed up as fem!Cecil, and she was a member of the Sheriff’s Secret Police (complete with working blowgun). TONS of great costumes: there were several Glow Clouds, a couple Dog Parks, at least one Hooded Figure, and Cecils and Carloses and Interns of every description. koshekhs-purr on Tumblr has a lot of nice collections of people’s photos from the night — turns out there were also some Eternal Girl Scouts, a Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives In Your Home, and multiple Kevins. I am slightly disappointed that there was no Hiram McDaniels.

The Sheriff’s Secret Police released a statement this morning. We … can’t find it. I think it’s somewhere in the studio’s air ducts. I can hear it scratching.

The Sheriff’s Secret Police are approachable, helpful, and recognizable in their balaclavas, short capes, and blowdart bandoliers. (Blowgun actually functions.)

Carla the scientist says that none of the clocks in Night Vale work, but mine tells time perfectly! It tells me time is transparent. Invisible. Unknowable. Breakable

Do not approach the dog park. (A recommendation.)

After a few weeks of bemusement over my friends either rapturously passing around fanart and fancastings of someone called “beautiful Carlos” or sending terrified Tweets about “episode 19,” I have finally started listening to Welcome to Night Vale.

“Welcome to Night Vale” is . . . difficult to describe. I saw someone explain it as what would happen if you were “lost in the desert and tuned into NPR and the broadcast was local news as written by Dale Cooper of Twin Peaks.” I have also heard it described as “Parks and Recreation with Lovecraft.” I would also liken it to what you would get if Northern Exposure‘s Chris Stevens were born in Derry, Maine. The references could go on and on.

It is a podcast. It is the community radio broadcast of Night Vale, a town in the desert established in the 1700s and shepherded by the City Council, which has not changed since the first meeting of the Town Elder Council in 1824 and which does not appear to like being discussed in great detail. The weather is music. (Really.)

It’s fabulous.