Danger, Vicious Dog

What happens when you notice the seam—and can’t unsee it? This episode begins in the small, almost invisible moment where a screen offers to skip ahead, and something in the nervous system says  wait . From there, it unfolds as an examination of charge: how stories pull us, how desire is simulated, how identification is engineered, and how easily we are invited to become “one of the boys.” Moving...

This episode begins as an attempt to relax and accidentally turns into a meditation on spectacle, fear, and the ways mass media soothes us by rehearsing catastrophe. Moving through  Stranger Things , Godzilla movies, Jurassic Park logic, nuclear anxiety, binge-watching math, and the false comfort of sequels, Part II examines how visual media creates emotional responses that feel personal while rem...

This episode begins with forgetting. What follows is not an argument, a lesson, or a story with an arc, but an environment—designed to be entered rather than understood.  Communicating without a Messenger  moves through states of attention, language slippage, music-induced elevation, anxiety, humor, and the physical memory of unresolved experience. The episode explores what happens when words fail...

Season 3 opens without a map. In  Die While You Try , the show abandons prepared narratives and leans fully into extemporaneous speech as both method and subject. What begins as an interview frame quickly dissolves into a moving meditation on boredom, creativity, sobriety, harm reduction, anger, transit, and the uneasy space between having a life structure and knowing you built it yourself. The ep...

Welcome to the most passive-aggressive mediation session ever recorded. In this episode, our host is told something “isn’t a big deal”—which, of course, is how every nuclear meltdown begins. What follows is a winding takedown of corporate gaslighting, middle management pageantry, genderless performance reviews, and the exquisite humiliation of being talked  around  while someone stares at the floo...

In this deeply unstable episode, your host accidentally sits down to write a short intro about Alcoholics Anonymous and ends up staging a full-blown confessional fever dream featuring AIDS trauma porn, Access Hollywood, Ronald Reagan, sex clubs, and a suspiciously athletic somersault. Yes, that happens. There’s also a half-nude dog costume, a Broadway playwright with boundary issues, and enough na...

This episode comes after Radius of Comfort, and it knows that. If Radius of Comfort explored intensity through calm, scale, and distance, Flowering Fauna moves the lens closer—to the body, to texture, to sensation that isn’t abstracted or smoothed out. This isn’t a release of pressure. It’s a redistribution of it. The experiment continues, but the terrain changes: from orientation to contact, from...

Radius of Comfort is a short-form experiment in attention. This episode isn’t a palate cleanser, and it isn’t an escalation either. It’s an environment designed to let intensity arrive sideways—through calm, proximity, and scale rather than impact. Nothing is explained. Nothing is tested. You’re not being pushed anywhere. Instead, the piece moves by narrowing and widening your radius of comfort: s...

This episode has already begun. Hasn’t it? Maybe before you even pressed play. That wasn’t an intro. Even if it was. Originally positioned as  Episode Two  of the whole podcast, this one went too deep, too fast. So it waited… until now… to be  an  Episode Six of Season Two. (There are others. A small pack of them. Don’t worry, they mostly don’t bite.) In this one: A scab becomes a plate. A plate b...

A guided meditation for the unsootheable. A lullaby for the morally panicked. A splinter in the eye of linearity. This isn’t the episode. It’s what happens just before. The blink before the gasp. The breath after the chest compression. It doesn’t ask you to be ready—just present. Inside: one AI named Monday, a porn actor playing a dog, some light Foucault, a shattered memory of being called “body...

You ever stand on a hill and mistake it for a destination? This episode does that. Repeatedly. BREAK is not a nervous system reset. It’s what happens when the system keeps running despite the break. A spiralling, blue-hued hallucination where narrative collapses under its own metaphors—and we keep talking anyway, because silence would be worse. There’s talk of ACE scores, pressure, mythic diagnost...

There’s a door. Someone’s on it. Someone else is in the water. No, not someone. Britney. In vinyl. Seagulls are circling. One of them might be God. This episode is what happens when words get lonely and start making out with each other. A linguist’s panic attack dressed like a poem. A riddle that refuses to end, because ending would imply resolution. And resolution implies you were meant to unders...

Choosing Your Battles  starts with a simple, unreasonable question: do you need language to die? And then immediately refuses to behave. This episode wanders through pronouns, grief, time dilation, buffet lines, counselling students who cry too easily, and the strange professionalism of learning when to leave the room—or stay and shake. It was written the day after a dog died. Not to process it. N...

Season Two begins by insisting it isn’t what it said it would be.  Not Sacrè Bleu.  Which already tells you the problem isn’t naming things—it’s believing names ever stabilized anything in the first place. This episode starts with Mary Shelley, briefly, because Frankenstein has become less a warning than a how-to manual. A recipe we keep misreading on purpose. Add brilliance. Add ambition. Ignore...

This is the end of Season One. Or maybe it already ended. Or maybe it’s still beginning. In this final episode of Danger, Vicious Dog , everything folds in on itself: desire, restraint, evidence, grief, climate, sex, counselling, Easter eggs, drag queens, dogs, black holes, old ladies, and the strange comfort of not knowing who you are. This episode moves like a mind thinking out loud—circling, lo...

This episode is Art in the sense that it refuses to behave. Art as digestion. Art as insomnia. Art as an egg you keep flipping long after it’s over easy. Beakless Chicken  starts as breakfast and turns into geopolitics, memory, factory farming, platform capitalism, trauma, fandom, fatigue, fame, obscurity, lava lamps, sleep, and the slow realization that rhetoric without power is just complaining—...

This episode is Art. Not  about  Art. Not  like  Art. It is Art in the way a bruise is body-colored Art, or the way a margin note accidentally becomes the main text. This is spoken Art, edited Art, Art that keeps interrupting itself to ask whether it’s still Art, and then answering incorrectly. It’s Art that doesn’t behave, Art that refuses to clarify its intentions, Art that keeps saying “this is...

This episode drifts into a question that didn’t feel abstract if you were coming of age before treatment, before the acronyms stabilized, before survival felt like something you could plan for. It’s a Gen-X question. Not in the flannel-and-irony sense, but in the historical timing sense: old enough to remember answering machines, young enough to watch whole social worlds evaporate before anyone fi...

E6: Endless Interlude (On Ludes)  is not an episode so much as a sustained drift. A holding pattern. A chemically inspired thought experiment without chemicals, except language, scale, boredom, and awe. This episode begins with a familiar feeling — the sense of “hitting your stride” — and then immediately dismantles it. Every moment is already over. Each instant its own universe, complete and gone...

Episode Five is where the podcast stops pretending it’s a podcast and instead becomes a  structural failure in the metaphysics of narration . Two voices—one British-ish alien puppet aunt, the other a man recalling things no man should recall sober—twist around each other like a double helix made of panic, horniness, and municipal bylaws that were never meant to apply to human beings. We begin with...

In  E4: Gen-Q to the X, Particles Waving from the 51st State: Season 1: Carthaginian Peace, Episode 3: Powder Puff Girls, S1: Failure of Language , the boundaries between childhood, danger, nationhood, and nostalgia blur like a long-lost VHS tape wobbling in a dying VCR. This episode moves from queer coming-of-age to algorithmically-engineered loneliness, from mall dumpsters to emotional inheritan...

If Episode 1 cracked open the door and Episode 2 widened it to reveal the whole trembling world,  Episode 3 walks you backward through it—into the origin chamber. Natural Fudge Company  is the Hollywood year everything started leaking: the concert, the station wagon roof, the ecstatic disintegration of an afterparty, the erotic claustrophobia of a twin bed, the counsellor who tries to contain a pe...

Episode 1 stayed close: dogs, grief, Canada, you, the listener, the claustrophobia of language itself. Episode 2 blows the walls out.  Danger, Vicious Dog  exits the personal house-of-mirrors and sprints straight into global collapse, immigration bureaucracy, American dementia, Facebook neon-trash capitalism, and the existential whiplash of hearing your suburb’s air-raid sirens and realizing you d...

Season One begins with a found object—an audio fragment the “vicious dog” couldn’t swallow.  From there, Episode 1 becomes a controlled derailment: a walk that turns into a confession, that turns into national identity performance art, climate dread, queer history, tarot, AIDS memories, psychic readings, automatic writing, and the impossibility of endings. This debut episode establishes the series...