Where Is Everybody?

It can be the worst, most frustrating feeling. You're desperate to make contact, but you keep trying and trying. Why is no one picking up? Why does no one ever answer? Now imagine that what you're trying to contact isn't a single person or a business or even another country. What you're trying to contact is the entire universe.

Why is there no answer? I know that I can't convince you that we are not alone in the universe or that we are all alone. But by the end of this episode, I think you'll have a very different take on the biggest question a human gazing at the infinity of the stars can ask, where is everybody? And then they got a small beam of light again.

It's a red light. A red light! A red light! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! The sound you're hearing right now actually is the sound of the universe. Well one very tiny corner of the universe anyway. You're listening to audio collected by NASA Voyager Mission. The two Voyager probes were launched within 15 days of each other, way back in 1977.

And for more than 45 years, the two Voyager probes have been visibly chugging deeper and deeper into space. All the while gathering data and sending it back to Earth every single day. This is mind-boggling enough when you consider that the Voyager mission was designed to run for about four years. And even more mind-boggling that the devices have now weathered decades in the punishing vacuum of space.

It's only a couple hundred degrees below zero out there. There's at least three different kinds of radiation to cope with and there's no way to repair even minor damage or malfunctions. The Voyager probes are tiny and vulnerable. You could even say humble machines. And yet, those little gadgets are the first human-made objects to cross the invisible boundary into interstellar space.

And even powered down to the bare minimum, as they now are, the Voyager probes will continue their unimaginably lonely journeys through the cosmos for a long time to come. Longer than the longest human life. A span of time so immense that it kind of gives you the willies to try and calculate it. Barring destruction by like a meteorite or an alien death laser, you know, something unforeseen and unknowable, scientists predict that Voyager 2 may continue its solitary tour of the Milky Way indefinitely.

And with a little bit of its motor still running for decades, thanks to the half-life of its onboard nuclear power source, and Voyager 1, brace yourself, Voyager 1 is predicted to outlive Earth, our beloved watery blue home, by at least a trillion years. Even if you're someone who thinks the space program is a colossal pointless waste of money, come on, you gotta hand it to NASA.

They took our tax dollars and they, by God, built Voyager to last. So this is what space sounds like. It's not silence, not exactly, but it's quiet, a quiet so vast and overwhelming that you find yourself straining to hear something, anything. Six years ago there was a little segment on Good Morning America. The whole thing was two minutes long.

It was a kicker story about astronauts hearing music in space. Now, I'm always at work during GMA, but on that particular day, friends who saw the segment started blowing up my phone because everyone knows I'm a space nut, right? I couldn't wait to watch. There is a bit of a space mystery brewing. Newly unearthed audio revealing astronauts may have heard music on the dark side of the moon, raising some big questions this morning.

A newly declassified audio tapes have just revealed that there might really be music in space. In 1969, as Apollo 10 cruised the dark side of the moon, the part furthest from Earth, where contact with NASA is unavailable, astronauts Eugene Curran and John Young heard something strange. Do you hear that? That whistling sound?

Sounds like, you know, outer space type music. Well, that sure is weird music. Those transcripts were archived and held for the last four decades. Now, freshly unearthed, though, by NASA's unexplained files on the Science Channel. But there may be an earthly explanation. One NASA technician believes the music was caused by two different spacecraft's radios interfering with each other.

And the astronauts themselves aren't sure if that music was caused by those radio frequencies, but they have admitted or they did admit they were very terrified. Yeah. Can you imagine they're all alone? Sure. Not just radio frequency. Yeah. Or not. Oh, the GMA team yucking it up. Who doesn't love morning TV shows so friendly and listen, NASA's explanation makes all the sense in the world, doesn't it?

Even I, a big believer in the probability of intelligent life existing in lots of other places in the universe, can see the logic in NASA's answer. But before you roll your eyes and laugh it all off, the idea of space making its own music isn't new. The astronomer Johannes Kepler, as in the Kepler telescope, believe that the planets in our solar system created harmonic tones as they orbited the sun.

This was Kepler's literal take on the notion of the music of the spheres. The idea of celestial music in the heavens, the music of the spheres, that was a hot trend or medieval times and throughout the Renaissance. It was this hugely influential idea that made itself known in poems, literature and art. Kepler, a mathematical genius who could not pursue his dream of becoming an observational astronomer because smallpox in childhood left him with very badly crippled hands and really damaged eyesight.

Kepler looked up at the sky and had this mind exploding epiphany. Geometry might be the very foundation of the universe. Listen, I don't even know how I passed geometry in high school. It was math made up of shapes and teeny tiny letters. I'm sorry, but I just never have one minute in that class where I was able to comprehend anything.

And when I learned that Johannes Kepler looked up at Jupiter and was like, ah, yes, geometry. Well, it confirmed for me that I'm basically a chucklehead, you know, but Kepler, Kepler got busy plotting the geometry of the planets orbiting the sun, figuring out the harmonic tones, et cetera, you know, translating those geometric equations into sheet music.

And even when some of his calculations failed to meet the mathematical requirements for harmonic ratios. And please do not ask me to try to explain what that means, because if my life depended on it, I can't even begin to make sense of the equations. He was still able to build an entirely coherent theory. And part of that theory is so beautiful that you just might cry.

And even if the math makes your eyes bleed, you're going to want this part of it to be absolutely true. Listen, in his great work, The Harmony of the World, which was published in 1619, Johannes Kepler proposed that it was very possible, if very rare, for the planets to sing together in perfect harmony. And that perfect harmony occurred for the very first time at the precise moment the universe was created.

Goosebumps, right? So a super smart and intriguing human who has a YouTube channel called Math Adam ADHD turned Kepler's geometry equations into music, the actual music of the spheres. This is what the planets sound like as they orbit the sun. It's just, it's wow. Oh, my gosh, I know some of y'all don't believe in much of anything, I mean, never mind math, but dang, if math is truly the universal language, and it really does look to be the case, even though I'm confused, and Kepler used math to show us that whole worlds can sing.

Well, wow, it would be really awesome if we could stop trying to annihilate ourselves long enough to take in the sheer wonder of this place that we find ourselves living in, whether we're all alone in the universe or not. And if we aren't all alone, terribly, frighteningly, tragically all alone, then where is everybody?

The phone ringing endlessly in the empty house, such a haunting sound. Once a long time ago, when payphones were everywhere and mobile phones were still a twinkle in some Motorola engineer's eye, as a teenager working nights in an Italian shorter by far if I cut through St. Mary's Cemetery, which is something I just could not bring myself to do after dark.

I often work the closing shift, which meant not unlocking my bike and getting on the road till well after 11 p.m. There was a long stretch of darkened houses, their windows, a flickering blue of TV light, and then a little park and then a junior high. One night, as I pedaled toward home, I heard the faint sound of a ringing phone.

It was a spring night, cool and damp, the streets wet from a recent rain, the air heavy with moisture, all making the streetlights gauzy and soft. The ringing grew louder the closer I got to the school. There was a payphone in the parking lot, I guess. And that night, it just rang and rang and rang and rang. And I can't explain why, but suddenly I was scared.

I was really scared. My heart started racing. I felt prickly all over. There were no cars, no one taking their dog out one last time before bed. No one. Just me and the sound of my bike tires on the asphalt, my breathing. And that endless ringing. I blew past the school's empty parking lot, that ringing phone barreling towards St. Mary's and the much busier well-lit road that bordered its entire length.

And I swear I could still hear that payphone ringing far, far past where the sound should have carried. I know it was silly and stupid to feel so spooked, but I was because for those few moments, I felt alone as I ever had or honestly ever would. It was like the whole world was one huge, empty house. And no matter how long that phone rang, it would never, ever be answered.

It was a terrible feeling, choked and panicky, an awful, empty, echoing sort of loneliness. That ringing, growing fainter and fainter behind me was worse than any silence could have been, or so I thought back then. What could be a more terrible fate than to be all alone in the world, all alone in the universe? Now, just by coincidence, this happened right around the same time the SETI was brought onto the scene in the mid-1980s.

Back then, sci-fi movies were enjoying their own golden age, a phenomenon that began in the late 70s with Close Encounters of the Third Kind, 2001 A Space Odyssey, Alien and of course, Star Wars. Moviegoers couldn't get enough of outer space, and that enthusiasm spread to the real world, too. Yes, people have been spying UFOs in the skies for decades, the Air Force's investigation into those unidentified flying objects, Project Blue Book was well known to the public. The alleged UFO crash at Roswell, New Mexico was established lore, and the sitcom ALF was in the works at NBC.

But it took a brilliant and ballsy astronomer named Frank Drake to inspire SETI and teach us all how to put our extraterrestrial listening ears on. At a time when serious scientists wouldn't touch UFO research with a 10-foot intergalactic pole, Frank Drake suggested that an excellent way to locate intelligent extraterrestrial life was simply by listening for radio waves that prove their existence.

And it was simple, elegant, and truly so genius that all these years later, we've yet to come up with a better idea. Just to give you some perspective, in 1960, Frank Drake embarked on Project Osma, deploying his strategy of using radio telescopes to locate other intelligent life in the universe. Just 25 years earlier, in 1935, humanity managed to send the very first letter via airmail. Now, come on, that is a lot of impressive progress in just 25 years.

We go from licking a stamp to searching the universe for life. Come on. Drake aimed his Project Osma telescope at a couple of stars that were each as bright as our sun, because the assumption was, hey, there might be some planets orbiting one or both of those stars. And each star was a relatively close neighbor of Earth, only 11 light years or 64 trillion miles away.

Drake's team monitored the 1420 megahertz frequency, something they believed any reasonably sophisticated civilization will be aware of. And they also used a single receiver to cruise the dial from 100 hertz to 400 kilohertz. Why am I sharing these super specific details? It's not just because I'm a giant geek, but because it's important to understand how incredibly narrow and limited that first search was.

And I don't mean that in a critical or negative way. Drake was limited both by the technology of the time and by the fact that he insisted on using off the rack equipment for Project Osma so that no one could claim he was being wasteful and crazy with their money. Oh, my God, the endless penny pinching when it comes to space, it makes me insane.

I mean, the guy was buying stuff at Radio Shack to look for extraterrestrials. Anyhoo, Project Osma never found anything. And a year later, Frank Drake introduced what is now the second most famous equation in science. Einstein still holds that top spot for E equals mc squared. The Drake equation, per Drake's reasoning, one could estimate the number of detectable alien civilizations in the Milky Way by considering seven variables, six of which were totally unknown at the time.

And it is a bummer to tell you that most of them remain totally unknown today, which means that the Drake equation can't be calculated, much less solved. That doesn't mean it isn't useful because the Drake equation formed the foundation of all the research done at SETI. It gave us a jumping off point for all of the big questions about whether or not we are alone in the universe.

And of course, it's something skeptics and debunkers like to throw out as their own kind of proof that humanity is a solo act. Now, thanks to Frank Drake, radio telescopes were soon scanning the heavens for signs of life. And there were a few wow moments, including the legendary wow signal picked up in August 1977 by the Big Ear radio telescope at Ohio State University.

That's what you're listening to right now. People got so excited. This really looked like it could be it. Proof that we had company somewhere out in the endless cold and dark of space. Took about 40 years for a pair of astronomers to gently break the bad news. Not aliens. The wow signal had a perfectly simple explanation.

It was just clouds of hydrogen gas, millions of miles in diameter surrounding a pair of comets that just happened to be in the Big Ear telescope sites at the precise moment the wow signal was recorded. Hydrogen gas happens to naturally emit a radio frequency at 1420 megahertz. Sounds familiar, doesn't it? That's because that is the very same frequency that Frank Drake considered the universal hailing channel. Oh, our search just got a lot more complicated because of aliens and humans and hydrogen gas are all broadcasting on the same frequency.

Things are definitely going to be confusing. Now, despite the tremendous enthusiasm and optimism about SETI's tireless scanning of the skies, heck, even Jodie Foster legitimized it all in the movie Contact. There was silence. It was called the Great Silence. As far back as 1950, when intelligent alien life was a hot button topic among scientists, there were those who found the Great Silence to be its own form of troubling proof.

The Nobel Prize winning Italian physicist Enrico Fermi was the first to say what many were thinking. If the universe is teeming with life, where is everybody? And this is how we got that other argument beloved by skeptics and debunkers, the Fermi paradox. Now, Enrico Fermi was the total package. He was brilliant. He hated fascists so much so that he fled his birthplace when Mussolini made Italy intolerable and he became a U.S. citizen. Side note, this is how bad Mussolini was that he could make Italy intolerable.

I mean, that's a bad dude, right? Fermi built the first nuclear reactor, for crying out loud. He was basically a one man brainiac when it came to controlling and harnessing nuclear energy. And then one day at lunch, he casually mentioned that, you know, if our galaxy was in fact home to numerous intelligent life forms, then shouldn't we see some evidence of that? Like there's nothing, not a single artifact, not a lone radio transmission, nothing, nothing.

Mic drop. Yeah, it seems like such a simple and obvious question, but it took the mind of a Nobel Prize winner to actually put it into words. Everyone stopped chewing and stared. Now, by everyone, I mean the scientific community. And of course, your crazy aunt Debbie, who thinks that even talking about aliens is asking for trouble from the devil.

Fermi was like, look, look, there are hundreds of billions of stars in this galaxy. Loads of them are bound to be like our sun. And many of those are bound to have planets. Right. And some of those planets are going to be like Earth, which surely isn't all that special. And on some of those Earth like planets, you'll find life.

Some of that life will have intelligence. Some will develop all sorts of advanced technology, even interstellar travel. And yeah, that'll take centuries if our own species is any kind of guide. But no worries, because statistically speaking, all truckload of those possible worlds have a massive head start on us, as in billions of years.

So, uh, you know, where is everybody? And then Enrico Fermi polished off his cheeseburger and looked up to see the bug eyed, stricken looks on every other face at the table. Oh, you folks just got served the Fermi paradox. The Fermi paradox, where is everybody? Is the universe one impossibly enormous, empty house? And we humans on the other end of the phone, just listening to it ring and ring and ring for all eternity.

And that sinking feeling that maybe Enrico Fermi was right, it never left us until maybe now. In December 2022, the lead researcher at Hebrew University in Jerusalem, astrophysicist Dr. Amri Wandel, quietly published an article in the Astrophysical Journal. And in it, he very politely suggested another way to resolve the Fermi paradox.

Just so you know, I did send Dr. Wandel an email and I asked if he would consider coming on the show. You know, true weird stuff. He is a renowned astrophysicist and I barely survived Algebra 2, so I wasn't super optimistic about getting a reply. I'm still waiting. I know he's a very busy person. I'm going to do my best to break down his thoughts.

I had to read that journal article. I don't even know how many times, but there was this one moment when the light certainly turned on in my brain and I understood. This understanding was as fragile as a soap bubble and I knew I was going to lose it any second. But man, for that one moment, I could hear the freaking music of the spheres.

Why can't they invent a pill to make a person smarter? So here goes. I'm going to try to break it down. You know how little kids have no concept of time, no patience, no ability to restrain themselves from asking, are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Now, imagine that humanity is that toddler. We just got buckled into our little seats in the space faring age and all we know how to do is holler.

Are we there yet? The answer comes down to, no, we're not even close. We only just pulled out of the driveway. If the universe is teeming with habitable planets, orbiting stars much like our sun, if those planets are teeming with life, some of it intelligent and technologically advanced, then there isn't anything particularly special about a planet like Earth. Aliens would view it as just one more planet with a very common biosignature.

Because for billions of years, that's what Earth has been, a garden variety biotic planet orbiting a yellow dwarf star. Really nothing special, nothing much to see. Until May 13th, 1897, that is. On that day, Guglielmo Marconi sent the very first radio transmission on the planet, and this marked the beginning of Earth's coming out party.

Radio, my day job, a glorious medium that we all treat like a public utility. We expect it to be there whether we use it or not, because it always has been. It's getting pummeled and battered now by streaming. I spend a chunk of every workday dealing with listener complaints about song repetition and commercials. People tell me radio is dying in its old fashion and it sucks.

Yeah, well, be that as it may, radio is what put our planet on the universe's advanced intelligence life form map. Radio gave Earth something new, a techno signature, and because humans are such beautiful, emotional creatures capable of real goodness and decency, despite our worst tendencies, the earliest radio broadcasts really tug on your heart.

Like Christmas Eve, 1906, wireless operators stationed on ships off the coast of New England were gobsmacked when their usual Morse code feeds were suddenly somehow interrupted, interrupted by the sound of a male voice reading from the Gospel of Luke, the Christmas story. And the angel said unto them, fear not, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.

For unto you is born this day in the city of David, a savior, which is the Lord. Silent night. Then as quickly as it appeared, it was gone and the operators heard only their usual and familiar dots and dashes of Morse code. Then a few years later, in 1920, the very first commercial radio broadcast boomed out of KDKA in Pittsburgh.

This is KDKA of the Westinghouse Electric and Manufacturing Company in East Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Throw in the early shortwave radio broadcasts and the occasional pre-World War II radar and Earth's radiosphere is born. The radiosphere, according to Dr. Lundell, is an ever expanding envelope of intelligent radio signals broadcast from Earth and spreading into space.

We've been doing it now for just a tick over 100 years, but it wasn't until the 1930s that humans were able to produce shortwave radio transmissions powerful enough to puncture our planet's ionosphere and escape into space. Where is everybody? Are we there yet? Well, here's what Dr. Lundell had to say. Earth's techno signature is still undetectable to alien civilizations unless they are sufficiently nearby.

Information about Earth being home to a technological civilization has not yet reached beyond 100 light years. Okay. But again, another way, like simpler. All right. Let's say we send out a radio signal and it reaches an intelligent species living on a lovely little world, 50 light years from Earth. That's practically our backyard from a space perspective.

It would take a response from those aliens another 50 light years to get back to us, which doesn't sound like a big deal until you really think about the timescale and the distances involved. Remember Frank Drake and Project Asma? They were targeting potential neighbors just 11 light years away, right? But do you know what a light year is in human terms?

It would take you 37,200 years to travel the distance that is one single light year, hot damn space is big, so big, so incredibly huge and vast and colossal that we struggle to even imagine distance on that scale. Yikes. I mean, whose head hurts? I'm over here in the fetal position. I'm so wigged out by the enormity of it all.

And against this staggering backdrop of time and unfathomable distance, it's hard to not feel like your one precious human life is little more than that of a firefly winking brightly into existence and then gone. This kind of thinking is why I'm no fun at parties. Back to Dr. Wandel, who had more cheerful thoughts to share.

First, of course, is the relatively encouraging news that any intelligent aliens out there probably just haven't gotten our call yet. Second, and honestly less encouraging, is the news that planets can remain biotic, which means capable of life for eons, but technological civilizations may exist for a much shorter span of time.

Uh-oh, not good news, but also not super hard to believe given the chaotic and violent and self-destructive tendencies we see in our own species right here on earth. And third, we need to settle down and be patient, which is something that human beings are not particularly good at. Dr. Wandel said that when a civilization achieves radio communication, it enters into what he calls the contact era.

We on earth are at the very beginning of our contact era and we have to be patient because our radiosphere, our techno signature, our cry of, we are here, we are here, we are here, it expands with time and as the radiosphere expands, so do our chances of making contact. This is one way that Dr. Wandel suggests that the whole Fermi paradox can be resolved and answer, however, unsatisfying in this moment to the whole aching question, where is everybody?

And now for the part that breaks my heart and crushes my extraterrestrial obsessed dreams, given the kinds of distances involved, the staggering difficulties of building any craft or even a probe capable of achieving velocities even near the speed of light, we have to comprehend and accept that not only are we not there yet, but the journey is going to take us hundreds and more likely thousands of years.

And that's assuming that we don't blow the world to bits along the way. The great silence, silent, perhaps not because we're all alone, but because we're just so very far apart, silent, possibly, because the civilizations progress, perhaps they abandon radio communications in the way we understand the technology. They cease transmitting in all directions, their signals cease leaking into space and forming that invisible but detectable trail of breadcrumbs for us to follow.

Maybe they evolved to deploy radio quiet technologies like fiber optics. And why wouldn't that be the case for intelligent species on another world? It's already happening here on Earth. And we're babies in this game of cosmic hide and seek. One thing to keep in mind is how important it is, how critical it is to have some humility about what we know and what we don't, about what we can do and about what is still so far beyond our reach.

The official story is we've gone looking for aliens and haven't found any. Yeah. Well, here's another way to look at it. Fellow believers, just because we haven't found them doesn't mean they haven't found us. We've been peering into the fastness of space through what amounts to a keyhole. Not exactly an exhaustive search, right?

But wait, because something has happened that could change everything. Really cool news broke in late February of this year, a student at the University of Toronto named Peter Ma developed an AI based artificial intelligence and AI based algorithm capable of sorting through the massive chaotic haystack of signals and background noise coming from our very single noisy earth in search of that ultimate needle and orderly repeating radio transmission from another world.

This is a huge development, huge. The kind of thing that has the potential to rewrite history, the potential to change SETI forever. Project scientists working with Breakthrough Listen, which is a SETI program using the Green Bank Telescope in West Virginia, applied Peter Ma's algorithm to radio data they'd already gathered from a collection of stars ranging from 30 to 90 light years away, and they found something astonishing.

What had been thought to be empty, silent space was anything but. Peter Ma's machine learning based algorithm found eight different, very intriguing signals. Here's what we know and why it's also eyes popping right out of your head. Let's start. The signals are narrow band signals caused by natural phenomenon are way more likely to be broadband.

The signals have what radio astronomers call slope, which jargon, jargon, jargon, jargon, jargon, basically means the signals could not have originated here on Earth. Wow. And finally, these signals are what they call on source, meaning we see the signal only when we point our radio telescopes at the star or source from which they originate.

And when we look away, silence. Why does that matter? Well, because it lets us rule out human radio interference. Earth is such a noisy planet. What with our cell phones and our GPS satellites and television and Wi-Fi and countless spins of journeys. Don't stop believing on FM radio. All that signal noise causes local interference because it's also close to home earth where our radio telescopes are based, but these signals, these eight mysterious signals, narrow band on source only signals, there's no interference from earth because these signals are not ours, whatever it is.

They turn out to be. So what I mean about staying humble, we thought we knew we declared with great confidence that there was nothing but dead air in that little corner of the universe, and here comes a college student who proves us all wrong. So now let me ask you the question again, even if we haven't found them, is it possible they've managed to find us?

Could we already have been discovered by an insanely advanced spacefaring civilization? Are we already under some sort of surveillance? Have we been visited? So many believe. And what about all the reports from nearly every place in this world where people describe witnessing craft, having encounters with those craft, and sometimes with the occupants of those unknown vehicles, it's possible that some, or maybe even most of those reports are true.

We are not able to completely rule it out. Any of it. We demand eyewitnesses and then we ridicule them for coming forward. We worship technology, but even our most cutting edge technology is still in its infancy. Really? We think we're the top dog in the universe, but only because we've yet to meet or be challenged by any other dogs.

It's way too early to call this game as that ultimate space daddy, the late Carl Sagan, so wisely reminds us absence of evidence is not evidence of absence. And I don't know about you, but I believe like Fox Mulder. I want to believe I can't bear the thought that humanity is some freakish, but marvelous accident. You're telling me that a bolt of lightning strikes an amoeba just so, and in the blink of an eye, here comes Albert Einstein and Marie Curie and no, I can't accept that.

I don't want to accept that. Even as a kid in Catholic school, I found a way to make the science. I love fit the scriptures like the gospel of John chapter two, verse 16. Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God. Believe also in me, in my father's house are many rooms. The universe is filled with uncountable rooms.

That much we do know. And us humans, we're only just now at the stage of pretty much crashing on earth's futon. Someday though, someone will answer that endlessly ringing phone. Someone or something will break the great silence. They'll pick up and we'll know for certain that we aren't alone. That we were never alone.

And in the meantime, since the odds of this happening in my lifetime are looking tragically slim, I have to console myself with the knowledge that my radio career is part of earth's techno signature for all eternity, that my radio partner, Bob and Max, and I have done our small part to shatter the great silence. We have hailed the stars and welcomed all comers by showcasing some of the most exciting things earth has to offer.

So he's kind of like a guard pig. A guard pig. That's great. And his name is grunt. Okay. Here he is. He wouldn't want to visit a planet where that's going on. People of earth, you're welcome. Next time on true weird stuff. If you're someone who thinks that medicine tastes bad, you're going to love this next episode because once upon a time, your ancestors opened wide and swallowed human flesh.

Corpse medicine on the next true weird stuff. And if you listen to us on Apple podcasts, hit the plus button in the top right corner, and now it helps an independent podcast like ours to get And we really appreciate it. If you subscribe rate and review true weird stuff, hit our website, true weird stuff.com for show notes and photos and videos when we have it.

And bonus content, everything true weird is waiting for you at true weird stuff.com and follow true weird stuff on Instagram and Twitter. True weird stuff is a Now! Media production. Our executive producer is Anthony Garcia. The show is written and hosted by me, Sheri Lynch, along with my deeply weird director, Max Swinton.

Our equally odd producer is Kary Bowser. Additional production by the mysterious Stephen Call. Our digital witch and social media cult leader is Heather Furr. Original graphics by Kevin Nash. Original artworks by Olivia Axland. True weird original music composed and performed by Jack Griffin and Zane Nash. Copyright 2023 Now! Media, all rights reserved.

All wrongs remember.