The collected excerpts of interest from the Midnight McAlister radio broadcast on WYRK - often heard by security professionals and adult industry employees across the city!
More seriously, these are bits and pieces of IC broacasts on WYRK, arranged by date. Rather than throw them up on IC radio to spam the masses, you'll find them here, along with air dates and, for those desperately in need of skimming, quick summaries of content. Feel free to reference these as you'd like - unlike logs, these are considered aired on the date mentioned, and are freely available to use or ignore as you'd like.
(If you'd like a specific reference, interview, or other mention on the Midnight Monologues - feel free to contact McAlister in-play!)
The Last Three:
- February 17th - "Galvanize!"
So, freaks, geeks, and security guards - you can put those piercings and stage ambitions to good use, I'm told. Look around the NYU campus and you might find a talent scavenger hunt going on. Check the message posting up by the quad if you've got cinema dreams or stranger things… and it wouldn't hurt you to get out in the daylight either. You won't combust. Except you, Francis. We know. Your allergies.
So it's weird - lately I've been asking myself the stupidest questions. The stupidest question of all is 'who's fault is it anyway?' I know, you're asking 'who's fault is what, Ali?' - but that's the point. Who's fault is everything? When you walk down the street and you see a homeless guy trying to get warm under a newspaper in Hell's Kitchen, you probably do what I do - you walk right on by and don't think about it for a while. There are haves and have nots, right? Well, let me tell you kiddos - I've been a have-not. Trust me. It's not as easy as you might think. If it weren't for a handful of really good people, I'd probably still be living on a bench in Central Park with that guy that smells like the south end of a northbound sewage plant, you know?
Heroes aren't made like in the comic books. They're not people that can throw cars or walk through walls - the cliche' thing to say is they're guys like the FDNY or NYPD, and yeah, that's true. I loves my boys in blue, and you better believe I buy the fire department calendar every year. Rowr. Mr. April - you can rescue me anytime. But you know what? As much as I love these guys, we pay them to be heroes. We don't pay them enough - but for them, it's a career. Professional saviors, a phone call away.
But my question for you is one that I'm just starting to figure out now myself. And, I met somebody in Central Park who I think sorted it out. So - the question: "Who's fault is it?"
The answer's pretty simple - ours. Every time we don't give a crap, and every time we ignore somebody in trouble, and every time we don't try to help out the people next to us - we're making it worse. All a hero is is someone who does the right thing, at the right time, to the best of whatever it is they can do - simply because it's the right thing to do. It's not hard to be one, if that's all it takes, you know?
It's not every day a girl meets somebody in this berg that's worth listening to. Talking to? All the time. Listening? Not so much. You know what I mean, kids.
People like to give advice. Most of the time, though, advice is worth about half what you paid for it, and makes about half as much sense. Eeevery once in a while, though, somebody comes along that says somthing to make you braver, open your eyes, or make you take notice of the fact that you're a raging (*beep* - darn FCC censors). So, Hero - this one goes out to you. I was listening. Nobody saves the world all at once, right? Next time we talk, I'm buyin' you a donut.
And Jackie? Wherever you are - thanks for saving my life, man. You know my digits - give me a call?
