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Cary Harrison Files

Cary Harrison Files

By: CARY HARRISON
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Award-winning raconteur Cary Harrison cut through the noise – revealing the murky agendas behind today's headlines through uncompromising journalism, unapologetic advocacy, independent voices and a global audience with live listener call-ins shaping the conversation.

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Politics & Government
Episodes
  • The Pilgrims: God’s Least Enjoyable Party Guests
    Nov 29 2025
    Disclaimer: These events are told from the viewpoint of this descendent of one of the first American families. We settled in Maryland. I’ve just returned from Holland, where the pilgrims spent 12 little-known years before going back to England to then head to the New World. I spent the summer tracing the deranged footsteps of our ancestor pilgrims.Chapter 1: How to Flee Every Country Until You Finally Find One Without NeighborsHistory insists the Pilgrims were paragons of virtue: earnest, long-faced saints trudging forth to build God’s vacation home in the wilderness. That’s the brochure version. The truth? They were a wandering sack of wheezing moral carbuncles who drank like condemned sailors and lectured like unpaid interns of the Inquisition. These were my ancestors—on my mother’s side—proof that genetics carries a sense of humor.They weren’t “religious refugees”; they were walking noise complaints. England didn’t persecute them—it quietly changed the locks.Their first stop on the global Tour of Being Unbearable was Amsterdam, a city that could tolerate anything: hash smoke, sailors with questionable piercings, anarchists juggling flaming pamphlets, and the odor of a million pickled herrings. Yet even Amsterdam—the spiritual capital of “do what you want, just don’t bleed on the furniture”—took one whiff of the Pilgrims’ sanctimony and said, with Dutch politeness, “F*ck No!”The Dutch, who could peacefully co-exist with Catholics, Jews, prostitutes, philosophers, and windmills—all at the same dinner table—took one look at the scowling God Squad and collectively wondered whether Spanish rule might’ve been the better deal.So the Pilgrims lurched onward to Leiden, a lovely scholarly town unprepared for the arrival of Calvinist mildew. Leiden welcomed them with open arms and closed nostrils. “Yes, come in,” said the locals, “start your linen shops, enrich our culture—please, diversify our gene pool! We beg you.”Twelve years later, the same townspeople were reconsidering every decision they had ever made. The Pilgrims refused to learn Dutch, refused to experience joy, and refused to let their children become anything other than junior-grade killjoys. They looked upon Leiden—a quiet university haven with cobbled streets and excellent cheese—and declared it another Sodom, only better organized.So Leiden, in an act of refined civic mercy, escorted them to the exit. Probably with a nice loaf of bread and a pair of wooden shoes to speed their departure. “Thank you for your enthusiastic hostility,” the Dutch likely said. “Please never return. The tulips fear you.”And so, having exhausted the patience of the most tolerant society in Europe, the Pilgrims gazed across the Atlantic—toward a continent where nobody yet knew them, and thus nobody had told them to go away. It must have felt like destiny. It was, in fact, the last refuge for people so irritating that even world champions of tolerance issued a restraining order.Thus these morally inflamed scarecrows boarded the Mayflower and set out to build a land where they could finally be free:Free to punish everyone else for existing.And that is how a band of joy-proof religious auditors fled every civilized country that asked them to leave, only to plant their flag in someone else’s backyard and call the whole thing “liberty.”Chapter 2 — The Great Retreat: How the Pilgrims Fled Holland, Sank a Ship, Terrorized Two Ports, and Still Somehow Made It to AmericaLeaving Leiden wasn’t a “fresh start.” It was an act of pest control.After twelve excruciating years of Puritan spiritual pollution—thick, choking clouds of sanctimony drifting over canals like Calvinist smog—the Dutch finally broke. This is a nation that tolerates everything: weed, prostitution, anarchists riding bicycles naked, and tourists from Ohio. But even they have limits, and those limits were reached the moment the Pilgrims refused to smile, assimilate, or shut up.Amsterdam had already tried to shake them off like a wet umbrella.Leiden lasted longer, because Leiden is polite.But eventually even its famously calm citizens agreed that living near the Pilgrims felt like attending a 12-year funeral for someone who wasn’t dead yet.The message was universal, unmistakable, and delivered with a complimentary pair of wooden shoes:“Please leave before morale collapses and the windmills unionize.”So the Pilgrims waddled down to Delfshaven to board the Speedwell, a ship whose very name was an act of historical satire. This pathetic little craft looked less like a vessel of destiny and more like the punishment a shipwright receives for being drunk at work. If the Speedwell had been an animal, the humane thing would have been to put it down.But no — the Pilgrims climbed aboard, packing it with their belongings, their grievances, and enough religious judgment to sink the Spanish Armada.Enter: The Speedwell’s Suicide ...
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    1 hr
  • America on the Brink: Greg Mello Reads the Warning Signs
    Nov 17 2025

    Why Upgrade? Now that government funding has been snipped like a spaniel’s scrotum, many of us public radio vets will continue to provide unfiltered insight, irony, and the kind of “why” reporting that refuses to kiss power’s ring. Corporate coffers can’t buy integrity, but your subscription can.

    You ever wake up, stretch, and realize the nation’s steering wheel is now in the hands of a man I’ll politely call His Imperial Kumquat — only to discover he’s steering with his elbows while juggling nuclear policy with the enthusiasm of a drunk circus clown? You have? Good. Then you’re already ahead of the curve.

    Because Washington DC — Our Leadership, the Dowager Empress of the Ballroom — has once again graced you with a spectacle so grand, so operatic, so deeply stupid, it makes the Roman Senate look like a Montessori school. We’re now living in a country where “nuclear testing” is tossed around with the same seriousness as a TikTok dance challenge, except this time the challenge is not to see who can get more likes but who can vaporize fewer cities.

    And the punchline? We’re told not to worry — because apparently nobody actually asked for nuclear explosions. No, no. His Imperial Kumquat simply suggested we should test things “on an equal basis” with Russia and China. Like it’s a bake-off. Like he wants to make sure our mushroom clouds rise at the same elegant angle as theirs.

    Meanwhile Russia’s out there test-driving nuclear-powered doomsday toys — a cruise missile that apparently runs on Chernobyl fumes and whatever dignity the Kremlin has left, and a torpedo that sounds like something a Bond villain ordered off Etsy. And China? They haven’t popped one since the last time fax machines were still considered cutting-edge. But that hasn’t stopped Washington DC from panting like a bulldog left in the sun too long, insisting we need to “keep up.”

    Of course, those boring, sober people known as “scientists” — you know, the ones who prefer math over swagger — keep reminding us that actual nuclear explosive testing is obsolete. Not just unnecessary, but the policy equivalent of duct-taping a lit match to a can of hairspray and calling it “innovation.”

    But the bureaucratic pyromaniacs in Washington DC have already burned through treaties like they were old parking tickets.

    The Anti-Ballistic Missile Treaty? Torn up.The Intermediate-Range Nuclear Forces Treaty? Dumpstered.Non-Proliferation obligations? Misplaced somewhere under the national couch.

    And just when you thought the grown-ups might reclaim the room, we get a “first use” doctrine floated like an idea on a bar napkin.

    The Dowager Empress of the Ballroom doesn’t just move the goalposts — she burns them down, salts the earth, and then quietly leases the land to a defense contractor.

    And all the while, quietly in the background, the United States bombs Iranian facilities like it’s ordering a side of fries. Israel — a country that allegedly, officially, absolutely does not have nuclear weapons (wink), is right there helping out, while Washington DC does a little two-step pretending not to notice the nuclear arsenal behind the curtain.

    Into this circus wanders a man who has spent his life studying nuclear policy like a fire marshal studying a rave thrown inside a fireworks warehouse. He’s the executive director of the Los Alamos Study Group. He’s taught science, commanded hazardous materials incidents, led environmental crackdowns, lectured at Princeton, and probably forgotten more about radioactive stupidity than Washington DC has ever known.

    He’s watched Washington set its own eyebrows on fire so many times that at this point he’s just checking to see if they’ll finally commit to roasting the whole head.

    You know him.You’ve probably read him.Today, we rely on him.

    Greg Mello.

    Why Upgrade? Now that government funding has been yanked, many of us public radio vets will continue to provide unfiltered insight, irony, and the kind of “why” reporting that refuses to kiss power’s ring. Corporate coffers can’t buy integrity, but your subscription can.



    This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit caryharrison.substack.com/subscribe
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    27 mins
  • Karel: Surviving the 70s, Outsmarting the 2020s
    Nov 17 2025

    Why Upgrade? Now that government funding has been snipped like a spaniel’s scrotum, many of us public radio vets will continue to provide unfiltered insight, irony, and the kind of “why” reporting that refuses to kiss power’s ring. Corporate coffers can’t buy integrity, but your subscription can.

    If Hollywood and Washington DC had a love child during a blackout, it’d still be less chaotic and more predictable than Karel Bouley. This is a man who started life wanting to be Streisand, got slapped with a tuba instead, and decided, “Fine, I’ll just conquer every medium known to man.” And he did — drag bars, dance floors, newsrooms, red carpets, radio booths — leaving a trail of stunned employers and confused bigots who still don’t understand what hit them.

    While Our Leadership was busy setting new records for national embarrassment, Karel was out there actually accomplishing things: singing with legends, photographing icons, rewriting California law after his partner died because the state couldn’t fathom gay people having rights, and becoming half of the first out gay couple to dominate major-market drive-time radio — right after Dr. Laura, which is comedy gold all by itself.

    He’s survived more station shakeups, culture wars, management coups, and American mood swings than any one man should endure, and he did it all while writing, performing, recording, producing, podcasting, and outliving every political attempt to shove queer people back into the broom closet. At 62 he’s still working, still ranting, still creating, still vegan, and still loud enough to give Washington DC heartburn.

    If you’re wondering what a lifetime of refusing to shut up looks like, here he is. Karel didn’t become Streisand — he became the nightmare straight America accidentally built.

    - Karel,With the safety of drag performers, trans youth, and queer teachers now openly debated like they’re zoning ordinances, what would you tell someone thinking of relocating abroad just to breathe?

    - Karel,You’ve lived through police raids, AIDS hysteria, and culture wars — does today feel like a rerun, or something more coordinated and national in scale?

    - Karel,And finally, is the American queer future still rooted in hope and progress… or do you think rhetoric becomes the latest political party trick? So, how do we keep the LGBTQ family from being carved into “acceptable” and “expendable” pieces?

    Why Upgrade? Now that government funding has been yanked, many of us public radio vets will continue to provide unfiltered insight, irony, and the kind of “why” reporting that refuses to kiss power’s ring. Corporate coffers can’t buy integrity, but your subscription can.



    This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit caryharrison.substack.com/subscribe
    Show More Show Less
    35 mins
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