A COMPLETELY ACCURATE TRANSCRIPT OF FRIDAY’S INTERVIEW ON HOLLOW EARTH RADIO

On Friday, May 11th, Peter and Graham were interviewed by Bryan Edenfield, host and curator of the Glossophonics program on Hollow Earth Radio. Much of the conversation has since been redacted due to the danger our comments pose to the space/time continuum, but certain portions have been deemed important and edifying enough to share with the public.

The following transcript is 100% absolutely true and accurate and has not been altered, exaggerated, adulterated, truncated, burnished, conditioned, or exfoliated in any way.

OFFICIAL TRANSCRIPT:

How’s Your Morale on Glossophonics, broadcast from 104.9 KHUH, Hollow Earth Radio, 2pm, 5/11/18.

BRYAN: Welcome to Glossophonics, a celebration of sound in all its forms, here on 104.9 KHUH, Hollow Earth Radio. Today on the show we have Peter Johnson and Graham Isaac, writers and operators of “How’s Your Morale.” How are you today, gentlemen?

PETER: Is that the sort of question you’re going to ask us? We are serious journalists and you’re going to waste what precious, draining, free speech resources to ask us HOW WE ARE? Goddammit, Bryan, I didn’t come here sip tea in your parlor, I came here to tear down the—

BRYAN: My question was basically the same question the title of your blog asks, every day.

PETER: You win this round, Edenfield.

GRAHAM: I’d be better if there were nachos. Can we get nachos? Is it too late for nachos?

BRYAN: That might not sound so good on the radio. How’s Your Morale covers a wide range of topics and, I’d say, a variety of moods. Is there an overriding aesthetic to what you’re trying to do with this blog?

GRAHAM: We wrote about fast food, people seemed to like that.

PETER: Yes, we were actually going to write about the working conditions at various Arby’s, but then Graham was hungry–

GRAHAM: We actually went to every single one of those fast food locations in one day and I had one of every item on every menu. My stomach is an insatiable beast whose hunger knows no silence. Late at night the pangs awaken me and I–

[REDACTED]

BRYAN: Well, that was twenty minutes of. . . sounds. Definitely some sounds in there. I think I’ll direct my next question to Peter.

PETER: Make it a good one.

BRYAN: Well, that’s a lot of pressure. What do you think about Seattle Transit, and what needs to be done?

PETER: Finally, you’re not throwing softballs. I was wondering when you’d get out of the little leagues and throw me something I could knock out of the park. After years of exhaustive research, in depth interviews, and extensive personal experience, I’ve dug up the grimy truth of transit in the region in all its winding complexities. This is not a topic for newbies, I’ll tell you that, and I’m no newbie.

BRYAN: And? What did you figure out about Seattle Transit?

PETER: It blows. Next topic.

BRYAN: Graham, do you have anything to add to this thesis?

GRAHAM: I’m glad you asked, actually. I think what my compatriot meant to say is that transit in Seattle really really super duper ooper blows.

BRYAN: Ooper?

GRAHAM: It’s a word, look it up.

BRYAN: It is not a word. You just said that because it rhymes, Graham.

GRAHAM: So is that a crime? Damn.

[THE FOLLOWING 15 MINUTES CUT FOR SPACE]

PETER: And yes, that’s why we continued with the lyme scan.

GRAHAM: Slant rhymes don’t count.

PETER: Puns are a rare medium well done.

BRYAN: What about art? Will it still exist in Seattle by 2030?

GRAHAM: Everyone just needs to join DIY macrame collectives, and it will be fine.

PETER: I disagree, Graham. Here’s a spicy take: I think that climate change and rising sea levels will inevitably drown out every single open mic night, glass studio, and music venue. The only thing left will be Henry murals. After all, this is all underground stuff, i.e. below sea level.

GRAHAM: In Pioneer Square, anyway.

PETER: Exactly. But it’s fine, because Seattle hasn’t made any good art since the ‘90s.

BRYAN: Will there be drink specials for the climate apocalypse?

GRAHAM: There will be if I have anything to say about it.

PETER: I’m going to need a little umbrella in mine. It’s going to be hot! Hopefully it’s the kind of thing that would work well if you’re drinking it on a floatie, like a slushy margarita or something.

GRAHAM: Have you ever tried to clean a slushy machine?

BRYAN: Hey. I’m doing the interview here.

GRAHAM: Well, guess what—it’s terrible. They get so sticky.

PETER: Sticky icky ooper.

BRYAN: I’m going to change the subject, since I know you are a serious blog with lots of important things to say.

PETER: That’s goddamn right we are, Edenfield, and don’t you forget it. We have the hardest-hitting slushy coverage in the western United States. Maybe the whole United States. Maybe North America. Maybe all the Americas. Maybe the world.

GRAHAM: Slushys are soft, but they do hit harder than liquid when they’re thrown in your face. There’s so many tiny crystals of ice!

BRYAN: Right. Of course. So then– what do you think the most pressing issue facing the city of Seattle is today, and what should be done about it? I’d like both your opinions on this one.

PETER: You ready for a hot take, Edenfield? This one is really spicy. Get some milk ready for the burning mouth and a spit take. Graham?

GRAHAM: I generally try to avoid overly loquacious prognostication, but given the tenor and tension of our mundane existentiality—and the lambastable turpitude of the tyranny of late capitalism—the capital requirements are too high to have a dog and an apartment in some parts of the city unless one can remit liquid assets to hire an employee to perambulate one’s canine from one’s domicile during the daily time of toil.

PETER: Especially if you ride the bus. The transit is terrible.

BRYAN: Thank you guys, I have one more question and then we can get nachos–

GRAHAM: Nachos? I want them now! [EMITS HIGH PITCHED SHRIEKING NOISE]

PETER: Graham, nachos are just bourgeois distractions from class struggle. Get real.

[SOUND OF GLASS BREAKING]

BRYAN: Ow! What the hell?

[REDACTED]

[REDACTED]

[REDACTED]

END TRANSMISSION