Season Two Broadcasts
Capital Offence
Do you trust me? I want you to. I'm reaching out to you...tonight. Do you trust anyone? Come and confide in me. Confess all. Unburden your conscience. Be rid of your sins. Call me now, and entrust me with your secret selves. I have returned for your sake. Tell me what you won't tell your best friend, your lover, your children or your father. Let me be your friend. Share all of yourselves, because I'm the Nightcrawler, and I...love...you...all.
However worthless you feel my friend, however bleak it all seems, in the end you can come to me. You'll always have something that I value, part of you that I will always welcome. Trust me. Because I *am* the Nightcrawler. And I want all of you to love...me.
You'll always have something that I value. Part of you that I will always welcome. Trust me.
Father's Day
So. It's question time on Nightwatch, Gentle Listeners. I see by the old clock on the wall that it's very nearly Father's Day. So. Tonight's question is...what is a father? Ring! We have a caller, and the caller says that a father is...altruistic. Bzzzzt! Too bad. Thanks for playing, though. Every parent wants something in return. Love. Loyalty. Nothing is free. So, boys and girls, the Nightcrawler wants to know...what did your father promise you? Did he promise to take care of you? Did he keep his promise?
It's a beautiful night out there, isn't it, boys and girls? I haven't seen a night quite like this in a hundred years. In fact, this is no night to be inside. Let's turn off our radios, go out, and play.
Good evening, Toronto. As all the night creatures come out of their dens, the Nightcrawler is on the air. And whose little ears are listening tonight? It's a school night. So, how about a little education? 'I am thy father's spirit, doomed for a certain term to walk the night. (...time passes?...) And in the porches of mine ear, did pour the leprous dist....' (Sees Nick enter) What's this, gentle listeners? A visitor?
Can't Run, Can't Hide
I'm listening also. I hear your thoughts. You feel you are alone, but you're not. I know your pain, your frustration, your hunger for justice. I am the Nightcrawler, I feel everything. Come to me. Now.
I can be your strength, where you have none. I can be your wisdom, your truth, and all you need to share with me, is your very soul.
Baby, Baby
I'm thinking about pain tonight. About what hurts us the most. Perhaps a gunshot wound, a severed limb, or maybe...emotional pain holds the deepest suffering of all. Pride shattered, broken dreams, lost love. Oh yes, the most painful things in the world are those mistakes of the heart, those mistakes we all make in the name of love.
The air is fragrant, the night is soft, the moon is full...on such a night as this. Tonight is a night for romance, mes amis. Ce soir ???? amore.
In thirty-one minutes the moon will be perfectly full. The night will be at its absolute brightest, as close to day as it ever becomes. How do you feel about the moon, about how it translates the light of the sun? Do you believe in magic?
Just five minutes left. Moments.
Five minutes until the peak. Are you getting warm?
They say a full moon distorts our perceptions. Clouds our judgment. Makes fools of us all. Is that the way it was with you too, my lovers. Did the moonbeams blind you to the truth?
Partners of the Month
Does everyone you see, everything you taste, smell, remind you of her? I know what it is. You cannot accept what you must. That love is not eternal, it's not even long-lived. Let it die when it is exhausted. Don't try to resuscitate it. Let it go.
Curiouser and Curiouser
Tonight, we mourn the loss of a dear friend. One moment so full of life, and the next, what was lies shattered and broken. Irretrievable. Beyond reach. Beyond hope. And we ask ourselves, 'if there is a God, how can this happen?' Better to ask, 'if there is a God, must it be sane?'
My word, Gentle Listener, what have I said to upset you so? That there is madness in the world. Fueled by hatred, by guilt, that we all share in the collective sins of our past, and that none will be forgiven. Is this not so?
Guilt is for the weak. To harbour it is to deny yourself freedom. To be a captive, a slave. The strong know this. They do what must be done, and think nothing of the consequences. And so they survive. Free. Agree or disagree. Discuss. And who have we here?
Be My Valentine
Love. A blip on the monitor of involuntary human response. A hiccup of emotion when compared with envy, hatred, lust. And just who was this St. Valentine? A bishop. Roman, third century, got his head sliced off. Ouch. For marrying lovers against his emperor's decree. You see, Claudius II believed that men made better warriors unmarried. Power comes with the absence of love. Love drains us of our strength. We never learn, do we?
And you say that love conquers all. Well not for you, St. Valentine. Not for me. Not for any of the...heartbroken.
Does love really exist in this hedonistic world of ours? Or is it only our selfish needs, our own desires that fuel the potion? Does she love *me*, love *me* not? What does it really matter? What hellish alchemy ever does?
Just say no to love. A carnival kewpie and a...electric blanket will give you more satisfaction. Don't give them your heart.
Like some sweet on the track roll steel wheels right over her precious body. She's just a girl, the apple of your pie in the sky. Valentine her good. Goodbye, my friend. Pass your days in one night stands. Tear apart the threads, the web of love's truth, where strings of beauties wrap your heartstrings around your neck.
Love exists, rages within. A silent scream of endless pain. A hellish alchemy indeed. Without equal. Not death, not hell itself, but a precious, precious flower. Long withered, and gone.
The Code
Tonight your Nightcrawler is ruminating on friendship. I say a friend for life is a leech. Someone who bleeds you. There is no real or lasting friendship, and no one is to be trusted. Who will challenge me on this? Who does not believe that all friendships must sour, slowly, imperceptibly, comment les mains de la cloche. And that in the end, it's not the big lie that turns us into mortal enemies, but the little white lies that drive the wedges between us, poison our loyalty, and blind to our trust. Do you not agree? Let's discuss it then. Friends.
A More Permanent Hell
At exactly 7.14 am on June the thirtieth 1908 an asteroid 100 metres in diameter entered the Earth's atmosphere and exploded with the force of a twelve megaton bomb. A column of fire rose twenty kilometres in the sky, as hot and as bright as the sun. The entire forest below was incinerated and blown flat. The shockwave circumnavigated the Earth. Twice. Now we have our friend 6748. When it hits, the one-thousand megaton blast will raise an impenetrable cloud of dust that will obliterate the sun for twenty years, or more. The temperature on Earth will fall below freezing, and stay there. The air will be filled with dirt, and toxins. Within a short time, all plant, animal, and human life, will be gone.
Fear. Fear kills us as surely as a natural catastrophe. It warps our senses, numbs our reasoning, makes cowards of us all. Fear of death, fear that life as we know it is neither unique nor special.
Life will always find a way to cheat death. Life is the enemy we cannot defeat, only cling to like parasites on the living flesh of the universe, hoping that we're not noticed and brushed away with a flick of the hand.
You were right, Divia. Damn you for it.
Nick--Happy Father's Day. (LC goes off air....unbroadcast bit ahead) I'm not coming back to you. I just wanted to say thank you. (Nick leaves, back on air)
They say if you love someone, let them go. If they're really yours, they will learn their lessons and return. You will come back, Nicholas. I can wait. I have all the time in the world.
Caller--You're not helping me much, Nightcrawler.
In time, you'll see that I am. I'm cleansing your wound, waking you from a stupor. Because of your grief you cannot see that I'm an ally, but in my way, I love you all. And I want your love back....
Nick--Your assassin.
Really. My, my, we are in a mood tonight.