Ira Glass

Joe Lovell. He edits podcasts for Pineapple Street Studios. Hello. Keith, it's Seth. This is the production manager of our radio show, Seth Lynn, calling his uncle Keith, about an incident that is actually the subject of this next act, Act 4, an incident that happened to Seth when he should have been sleeping over 20 years ago.

Joe Lovell. He edits podcasts for Pineapple Street Studios. Hello. Keith, it's Seth. This is the production manager of our radio show, Seth Lynn, calling his uncle Keith, about an incident that is actually the subject of this next act, Act 4, an incident that happened to Seth when he should have been sleeping over 20 years ago.

Seth had a very common childhood experience. He saw a film that he shouldn't have seen, and it had exactly the effect you'd think. After seeing The Shining, he had trouble falling asleep and nightmares every night, and here's where it gets a little extreme. This lasted for most of two years.

Seth had a very common childhood experience. He saw a film that he shouldn't have seen, and it had exactly the effect you'd think. After seeing The Shining, he had trouble falling asleep and nightmares every night, and here's where it gets a little extreme. This lasted for most of two years.

It lasted so long probably because the film was The Shining, a film that is not only truly scary, it starred a six-year-old boy, same age as Seth at the time. And if you remember The Shining, the director, Stanley Kubrick, is constantly shooting from the six-year-old's perspective.

It lasted so long probably because the film was The Shining, a film that is not only truly scary, it starred a six-year-old boy, same age as Seth at the time. And if you remember The Shining, the director, Stanley Kubrick, is constantly shooting from the six-year-old's perspective.

There are those amazing shots done from kid-level height as the little boy speeds down the hallways of this huge hotel on his big wheel. This made everything in the film seem very, very real to Seth. It just made it plausible.

There are those amazing shots done from kid-level height as the little boy speeds down the hallways of this huge hotel on his big wheel. This made everything in the film seem very, very real to Seth. It just made it plausible.

Act 5, A Little Taste of the Big Sleep. So I started today's show by talking about how fear of sleeping, for me, goes hand in hand with the fear of death. And I used to be surprised that everybody didn't feel that way or regularly have that experience, these moments in bed when they felt so aware that death is really going to happen to them.

Act 5, A Little Taste of the Big Sleep. So I started today's show by talking about how fear of sleeping, for me, goes hand in hand with the fear of death. And I used to be surprised that everybody didn't feel that way or regularly have that experience, these moments in bed when they felt so aware that death is really going to happen to them.

And I have found that it is comforting that there are other people who do feel that. Here are some.

And I have found that it is comforting that there are other people who do feel that. Here are some.

Jane Marie, Leonard Davis, and G.J. Ekternkamp. I know that we almost never have poems on our show, and I already read one poem today, so, you know, whatever. But there's a Philip Larkin poem that is exactly about this subject that we're talking about. It's in his collected poems, which is published by Farrar, Strauss, and Giroux, called Obad. And...

Jane Marie, Leonard Davis, and G.J. Ekternkamp. I know that we almost never have poems on our show, and I already read one poem today, so, you know, whatever. But there's a Philip Larkin poem that is exactly about this subject that we're talking about. It's in his collected poems, which is published by Farrar, Strauss, and Giroux, called Obad. And...

It begins and it's nighttime and he writes at nighttime, you can see what's always been there, unresting death a whole day nearer now. And then I'm just going to pick up in the middle of this where he describes what he sees. The total emptiness forever, the sure extinction that we traveled to and shall be lost in always, not to be here, not to be anywhere.

It begins and it's nighttime and he writes at nighttime, you can see what's always been there, unresting death a whole day nearer now. And then I'm just going to pick up in the middle of this where he describes what he sees. The total emptiness forever, the sure extinction that we traveled to and shall be lost in always, not to be here, not to be anywhere.

And soon, nothing more terrible, nothing more true. This is a special way of being afraid. No trick dispels. Religion used to try. That vast, moth-eaten musical brocade, created to pretend we never die. And specious stuff that says, no rational being can fear a thing it will not feel. Not seeing that this is what we fear. No sight, no sound. No touch or taste or smell.

And soon, nothing more terrible, nothing more true. This is a special way of being afraid. No trick dispels. Religion used to try. That vast, moth-eaten musical brocade, created to pretend we never die. And specious stuff that says, no rational being can fear a thing it will not feel. Not seeing that this is what we fear. No sight, no sound. No touch or taste or smell.

Nothing to think with, nothing to love or link with. The anesthetic from which none come round. And so it stays just on the edge of vision, a small, unfocused blur, a standing chill that slows each impulse down to indecision. Most things may never happen. This one will. And realization of it rages out in furnace fear when we're caught without people or drink. Courage is no good.

Nothing to think with, nothing to love or link with. The anesthetic from which none come round. And so it stays just on the edge of vision, a small, unfocused blur, a standing chill that slows each impulse down to indecision. Most things may never happen. This one will. And realization of it rages out in furnace fear when we're caught without people or drink. Courage is no good.