Check OUT my music

Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/7lDqMXbyfDk8fPXZAWgZDS?si=106TCc1WSW2NVesg7AHcRQ 

Apple Music: https://music.apple.com/us/artist/blake-cunningham/1710062697

YouTube Music: https://youtube.com/channel/UCh5isf3WMjT2l3FFeTDmpyQ?si=4Sylg0tXAsQwK__Q 

Insta: https://www.instagram.com/bud.bc?igsh=djQ1YnpzdnMwcjlu&utm_source=qr 

Amazon Music: https://music.amazon.com/artists/B08KSGPGFP/blake-cunningham?marketplaceId=ATVPDKIKX0DER&musicTerritory=US&ref=dm_sh_qoIA5mgdMPbQGjgkbjosU7cl9 

Tidal: https://tidal.com/artist/21632379/u 

Ever find yourself four drinks in, scrolling headlines that feel like a countdown clock? We went straight into the heart of that feeling—how fear-bait news frames conflict, why draft rumors refuse to die, and what nuclear anxiety does to your brain when it’s midnight and you’re too wired to sleep. It’s chaotic, honest, and more than a little funny, because that’s how late-night coping sounds.

From there we detoured into the internet’s secret handshake: niche conspiracies and Agartha memes. Not to argue what’s “real,” but to unpack why those rabbit holes are so sticky, how they create instant belonging, and where curiosity slips into credulity. Along the way, pain memories kept us grounded—cracking your head on tile, the surreal cold-burn of liquid nitrogen, choosing laser over freeze for wart removal, and the weird relief when a simple remedy outperforms a big clinical promise. Bodies remember; those memories quietly steer our choices.

Money shame and avoidance made an appearance too: trying to learn stocks before nailing basics like a driver’s license or a routine. It’s a familiar pattern—reaching for complex wins to cover simple gaps. We pulled it back to something steadier: stabilize bills, build small buffers, automate what you can, then take tiny, patient steps with investing. That same pragmatic streak carries into everyday life—concerts, long drives, and the eternal war between rave beats to keep the driver awake and the backseat’s desperate need for silence. Add apartment letters about dogs, laundry rooms, bathroom fans, smoking perimeters, and late fees, and you’ve got real adulthood: logistics plus empathy.

The throughline is simple. Notice your triggers—headlines, conspiracies, pain, money, noise—and build small habits that make you harder to rattle: boundaries with news, basic financial systems, better trip plans, kinder apartment etiquette. It’s not glamorous, but it’s what keeps you human when the feed tries to turn you into a siren. If this resonates, hit follow, share with a friend who doomscrolls after midnight, and drop a review to tell us the late-night thought you can’t shake.

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Check OUT my music

Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/7lDqMXbyfDk8fPXZAWgZDS?si=106TCc1WSW2NVesg7AHcRQ 

Apple Music: https://music.apple.com/us/artist/blake-cunningham/1710062697YouTube Music: https://youtube.com/channel/UCh5isf3WMjT2l3FFeTDmpyQ?si=4Sylg0tXAsQwK__Q Insta: https://www.instagram.com/bud.bc?igsh=djQ1YnpzdnMwcjlu&utm_source=qr Amazon Music: https://music.amazon.com/artists/B08KSGPGFP/blake-cunninghammarketplaceId=ATVPDKIKX0DER&musicTerritory=US&ref=dm_sh_qoIA5mgdMPbQGjgkbjosU7cl9 Tidal: https://tidal.com/artist/21632379/u My Podcast Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/1nU9EZLc8488a3UhtPAQ9g?si=77af20407c694062 Apple: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-blake-cunningham-delirium/id1781779913Youtube: https://youtube.com/@blakecunninghampod?si=uZyexGmKAJgGwIqw What happens to culture when every feed becomes its own country? We take a hard look at power and perception, starting with a volatile week of headlines around Venezuela’s leadership crisis, oil control, and the endlessly loaded word “imperialism.” Instead of treating it as a moral sorting hat, we debate it as a strategy with winners, losers, and predictable spillover into neighboring states. From there, we examine how allies posture, how legal objections collide with real logistics, and why media incentives keep turning regional crises into world-ending narratives.
Then we pivot—from geopolitics to the strange gravitational pull of conspiracy-flavored curiosity, Greenland chatter included. It’s a window into how people crave cinematic answers when the truth is slow, boring, and procedural. Our focus tightens around Iran’s protests, the pattern of pressure and proxy, and a sharp claim: the next era is not World War III, it’s persistent regional conflict amplified by attention economies. That argument sets the stage for our central theme: the collapse of monoculture. Once, a handful of channels and events stitched us together; now, recommendation engines fracture us into microniches where consensus looks like surrender instead of collaboration.
We talk AI without the hand-wringing. Ethics matter, but adoption follows utility: if it does the homework, people will use it. The better question is how to work with the machine so your voice isn’t erased by it. Treat AI like infrastructure, not novelty—curate inputs, learn the tools, and create bridges that move across niches. Along the way, we vent about awards shows, celebrity headlines, and why everything feels thinner when there’s no shared center of gravity. The takeaway isn’t to pine for one monoculture; it’s to build translation layers between communities and choose formats that reward depth over performative heat.
If you dig sharp takes on geopolitics, media incentives, AI, and the future of culture, you’ll feel right at home. Subscribe, share with a friend who lives in a different feed, and leave a review telling us where you still find real common ground.

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Check OUT my music

Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/7lDqMXbyfDk8fPXZAWgZDS?si=106TCc1WSW2NVesg7AHcRQ 

Apple Music: https://music.apple.com/us/artist/blake-cunningham/1710062697

YouTube Music: https://youtube.com/channel/UCh5isf3WMjT2l3FFeTDmpyQ?si=4Sylg0tXAsQwK__Q 

Insta: https://www.instagram.com/bud.bc?igsh=djQ1YnpzdnMwcjlu&utm_source=qr 

Amazon Music: https://music.amazon.com/artists/B08KSGPGFP/blake-cunningham?marketplaceId=ATVPDKIKX0DER&musicTerritory=US&ref=dm_sh_qoIA5mgdMPbQGjgkbjosU7cl9 

Tidal: https://tidal.com/artist/21632379/u 

My Podcast 

Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/1nU9EZLc8488a3UhtPAQ9g?si=77af20407c694062 

Apple: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-blake-cunningham-delirium/id1781779913

Youtube: https://youtube.com/@blakecunninghampod?si=uZyexGmKAJgGwIqw

Headlines shouted about climate financing, defense spending, and ceasefire talks while our streets wrestled with fentanyl and burnout. We take that mismatch head-on, pulling apart the year’s biggest claims—from the G20 in Johannesburg to NATO’s strategy and support for Ukraine—then pressure-test whether high-level promises ever make it to the ground. The thread runs through climate too: extreme cold snaps, UK droughts and fires, and atmospheric rivers pounding the Pacific Northwest. It’s not just another disaster montage; it’s a look at how governments move when nature starts keeping score.

We also look skyward as China sets a blistering pace in orbital launches, reusable rockets, and lunar hardware, while moon shots, Mars plans, and satellite constellations crowd the headlines. Is space the escape hatch or the toolbox we’ll need back home? Meanwhile, social unrest keeps rising, from youth-led protests in Morocco to broader regional movements, while the WHO’s pandemic preparedness agreement raises a tougher question: does readiness beat rhetoric when the next crisis hits, or are we still practicing speeches?

Then we bring it close to home. We shout out the cities and countries that tuned in, embrace imperfect consistency in fitness and creative work, and talk candidly about identity—the “different hats” we wear at school, work, and home. The closing stretch turns into a manifesto for 2026: protect your focus, stop asking for permission, and make the work undeniable. It’s sharp, funny, and unfiltered, with music in the mix and a clear challenge to build a decade, not just a week. If you’re ready to trade performative grind for sustainable momentum, this one’s for you. Subscribe, share with a friend who needs a push, and drop your boldest 2026 goal in a review.

Support the show

Check OUT my music

Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/7lDqMXbyfDk8fPXZAWgZDS?si=106TCc1WSW2NVesg7AHcRQ 

Apple Music: https://music.apple.com/us/artist/blake-cunningham/1710062697

YouTube Music: https://youtube.com/channel/UCh5isf3WMjT2l3FFeTDmpyQ?si=4Sylg0tXAsQwK__Q 

Insta: https://www.instagram.com/bud.bc?igsh=djQ1YnpzdnMwcjlu&utm_source=qr 

Amazon Music: https://music.amazon.com/artists/B08KSGPGFP/blake-cunningham?marketplaceId=ATVPDKIKX0DER&musicTerritory=US&ref=dm_sh_qoIA5mgdMPbQGjgkbjosU7cl9 

Tidal: https://tidal.com/artist/21632379/u 

My Podcast 

Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/1nU9EZLc8488a3UhtPAQ9g?si=77af20407c694062 

Apple: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-blake-cunningham-delirium/id1781779913

Youtube: https://youtube.com/@blakecunninghampod?si=uZyexGmKAJgGwIqw 

The news says “transparent,” but it feels like theater. We dive straight into the tension between what gets released and what gets revealed, asking whether the flood of documents, statements, and carefully timed drops actually informs anyone—or simply manages public sentiment. From there, we confront the whiplash of good economic indicators paired with empty wallets, mapping the lag between market reactions and lived reality with rent, groceries, and wages that still don’t meet people where they are.

Travel season puts our systems on trial. One storm and a staffing gap ripple into nationwide delays, reminding us that infrastructure built for ideal conditions will always fail real life. We explore what true resilience looks like—redundancy, fair staffing, maintenance with teeth—and why passengers shouldn’t be the shock absorber for institutional fragility. Then we tackle crisis fatigue: when every headline screams, empathy shuts down. Instead of trying to feel everything, we outline how to care wisely—choose lanes, verify sources, support one cause consistently, and let attention become a renewable resource rather than a drain.

Culture and media aren’t off the hook. Personality has become the scaffolding of brands, and “always on” access blurs consent, encourages burnout, and warps creativity. We set boundaries, question audience entitlement, and flip the script on what fans can do to support healthier cycles. The mic gets hot with a raw take on the music economy—why safe, formulaic sounds dominate feeds and how listeners can reward risk, authenticity, and craft. Expect sharp questions, real talk, and a challenge to stop scrolling and start noticing.

If this resonates, subscribe, share with a friend who loves smart media critique, and leave a review to help others find the show. Tell us: where do you see real transparency—and where is it all just performance?

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Dead-of-night energy. Freezer-burned ice cream. A sore mouth that won’t shut up—and somehow the most productive studio session in weeks. We come back from a break with a simple promise: new music on the last Friday of every month, starting with a double single called Get a Grift. The plan only works if the workflow does, so we unpack why a gifted Roland workstation beats a distraction-heavy laptop, how hardware limits can boost creativity, and why two upcoming instrumental tracks lean into jagged rhythms and haunting motifs.

The conversation swerves, as late nights do, into the drag of headline noise and the fog around high-profile cases. Instead of feeding speculation, we take the tension and make story: first, a surreal tour-van scene that seeds the song title Lacerated Halo; then a tight, noir-tinged short story about an agent, an island, and the slow echo of institutional failure. Fiction becomes a filter for hard topics—less outrage, more clarity—and a reminder that art can hold complexity without amplifying chaos.

Between riffs, we talk focus, habit, and the small rituals that keep a solo creator moving when life gets messy. A monthly cadence sets the bar. A hardware DAW reduces decision fatigue. Pain and constraint shape cleaner choices. And a shoutout roll call of listeners from Detroit to Osaka proves the weird, stubborn magic of showing up. Hit play if you want a window into process, a few strange stories, and a practical roadmap for making more with less. If it resonates, subscribe, share with a friend, and leave a quick review—then tell me what tool keeps you creating when the night won’t quiet down.

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Ever feel most at home when the world tilts a little? That’s the spark for our Halloween special—an honest love letter to spooky rituals, the offbeat comfort of Treehouse of Horror, and the strange relief of embracing what doesn’t quite fit. I talk about why the uncanny feels welcoming when you’ve always felt slightly out of place and why October gives permission to be odd.

We travel back to Camp Dagget for a ghost story that refuses to behave. Picture a classic summer camp: sailing by day, an initiation in the woods, a rec hall that doubles as a rumor mill. A counselor who calls himself a ghost hunter hints at a legend—the 1950s rec director, a slap, a fall, and a restless spirit above the rafters. After a night of stargazing and debating aliens, two of us choose curiosity over comfort and step into the rec hall with glow sticks and nerves. An electrical box pops, then the room answers: ball pit balls tumble from the ceiling opening, curtains begin to part on the small stage, and instinct takes over. We run, and by morning, denial replaces explanation.

Was it a prank with perfect timing or a moment when the ordinary world cracked? I walk through the logistics, the doubt, and the ache of not knowing, and why that ambiguity still haunts me in the best way. The episode threads together Halloween nostalgia, the psychology of feeling out of place, and the kind of campfire tale that leans you forward. If you’re drawn to eerie stories, folklore, and the feeling that the edges of reality might be frayed, you’ll find a home here.

Listen, share with a friend who loves a good scare, and tell me: prank or paranormal? If the story grabs you, subscribe, leave a review, and spread the word so more curious minds can join us.

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A black van. A sudden sponsor read. A confident claim that a centuries-deep conflict is “done.” We play the joke straight, then let the absurdity do the heavy lifting, exposing how easy it is to accept neat endings when the truth is heavy and our timelines are tired. The bit about a ceasefire wrapped with candy words isn’t just a gag; it’s a mirror held up to headlines and our own urge to move on.

From there, we veer into a shameless music plug that knows it’s shameless. We talk bangers, FLAC files, DACs, and the mythic pull of “perfect” frequencies, poking fun at audiophile lore while admitting why it’s tempting: when policy feels immovable, sound feels like a world we can shape. You’ll hear a riff on how art becomes a refuge, a hustle, and sometimes a truth engine that outpaces the news. We even test a heresy: does value come from control, or from circulation? The piracy riff is satire with a point, asking whether reach matters more than receipts when you’re trying to move hearts.

Under the jokes runs a thread about responsibility. If compromise lives “in the heart,” it can’t stay there; it has to show up in attention, in patience with complexity, in refusing to treat real harm like a plot twist with a tidy bow. We challenge quick closure, invite you to question the story beats you’re fed, and still leave space for joy in the making of things that matter. Laugh with us, argue with us, then decide what kind of story you’re willing to live inside.

If this episode made you think or grin, tap follow, share it with a friend who loves sharp satire, and drop a review with your favorite line—what did we get right, and what did we push too far?

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A school that started behind an ink shop is bound to collect legends. We open the yearbook of memory and flip through the pages that actually stuck: a choir rehearsal that turned into a comedy sketch, a student who staged a whole-school farewell photo, and teachers whose theatrical quirks now look different in the rearview. The tone swings from goofy nostalgia to hard questions—how do you tell eccentric from unsafe, and what happens when a campus normalizes “that’s just how they are” long past the point of comfort?

We also trace a bigger shift: the building that once echoed with band warmups and choral harmonies now hums with esports rigs. We’re not here to dunk on gaming; strategy, teamwork, and reflex are real skills. But we push on the trade-offs. What do students lose when ensemble rooms go silent? Can a modern school champion both stage lights and LED screens? We talk about pathways where arts and gaming feed each other—music tech meeting game audio, theater performance meeting motion capture, visual art meeting environment design—without abandoning the core joy of making something together in real space.

If you’ve ever wondered whether your alma mater shaped you more than you admitted—or if a campus can honor its creative roots while chasing the future—this one will hit home. Come for the stories, stay for the questions about community, boundaries, and what a school owes its kids when the vibe gets weird. If this episode sparks a memory, share it with a friend, subscribe for more candid debriefs, and leave a quick review to tell us what your school got right—and what you wish it had kept.

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Headlines shout change while life keeps looping the same chorus. That’s where we start—questioning whether power actually rotates or just changes outfits—and then we tumble into money myths, climate theater, and what it means to keep making art when everyone wants you polished, quiet, and on-brand. I admit the libertarian spiel, then pull it apart, not to be edgy but to be honest: if fiat is story, why does the story hold, and what does that say about the incentives beneath our outrage?

From there, I swing hard into a choice I know will split the room: releasing a new album built from old demos—mistakes, warts, timing drifts and all. I’m done waiting for perfect. I’d rather ship the truth and let you decide what’s worth saving. Think of it as an open archive on Spotify, not a museum. While we’re at it, we talk about the AI music flood and what those mass takedowns might actually signal. If algorithms remove algorithmic songs, is that enforcement or just machines arguing with each other? I don’t fear synthetic tracks as much as I fear forgetting why a human voice matters: a fingerprint of intent, a pattern of risk that software can imitate but not own.

And yes, I address the Instagram haters. Maybe they’re bots. Maybe they’re bored. Either way, I’m not handing them the steering wheel. If I get criticized, I’ll turn it into a bit, a riff, a song—something I control. That’s the real theme tying this all together: agency. Don’t wait for permission from a platform, a pundit, or a purity test. Make the thing only you can make. Publish it before your nerve fades. Then come back here and argue with me about whether anything is truly changing or if we’re just repainting the same walls.

Tap play, subscribe for the Halloween album drop, and leave a review with your spiciest take: should artists release everything, or curate like guardians of taste? Your call—and your comments—will shape where we take this next.

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Some episodes are born from necessity rather than choice. Returning from hiatus, I find myself confronting the devastating death of Charlie Kirk and the shocking responses it provoked across social media. What chills me to the bone isn't just witnessing such callousness, but recognizing it as symptomatic of a deeper national crisis – our collective failure to see humanity in those with whom we disagree.

The reactions to Kirk's death reveal how entrenched we've become in our worldviews, seeing everything through binary lenses where people are categorized as good or bad based solely on political alignment. This tragedy has become a cultural stain, amplified by social media into a spectacle that forces us to question: what does it mean to be "united" in the United States of America? Unity doesn't require abandoning personal beliefs or even liking everyone – it simply asks that we recognize our shared humanity. As I put it, "We don't have to mow our neighbor's lawn, but we can look out for them."

Amid these reflections, life continues its relentless forward motion. I'm moving to a new apartment, which will allow me to fully actualize what this show is meant to be. Simultaneously, I'm processing the loss of my uncle – the person who inspired my musical journey years ago. This juxtaposition of national trauma and personal grief highlights a universal truth: we reach a point in life where childhood fades, loved ones pass away, and everything familiar gradually changes. Dwelling in the past becomes "a disease that you're feeding," while our only healthy option is seeking "broader, brighter horizons." Perhaps this wisdom applies not just to personal grief but to our national condition as well.

Listen now and join me in contemplating how we might rebuild our capacity for empathy in increasingly divided times. Share your thoughts on finding common ground without compromising your values – I'd love to hear your perspective.

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