GINGER REEDS:
Right, hello, welcome back to the BBC Celebrity Podcast. I’m Ginger Reeds, you know me, you love me, my autobiography is still somehow outselling three wars and a royal scandal—

Today we’re joined by, now this is interesting, Locke Navarre. Writer, alleged thinker, recent recipient of the Jorts the Cat Labor Medal, which I could have won if I wanted to—

Locke, how are you?

LOCKE NAVARRE:
That depends entirely on which version of “how” you’re asking.

GINGER:
Oh, brilliant. One of those.

LOCKE:
No, no, it’s fine. I rehearsed being normal on the way here. I think I nailed it until about six minutes ago.

GINGER:
You lasted longer than most of my guests.

So, let’s start simple. Who are you?

LOCKE:
I am a demiurge.

(pause)

That sounded more dramatic than it felt coming out.

I don’t know if there are others. If there are, they’re either hiding very well or we’ve all agreed not to make eye contact.

Mostly I’m… a creative sprint still finding their grounding or partners in all this. * Looks around as though he just noticed where he is for the first time.

GINGER:
Right. So not an accountant then.

LOCKE:
Gods below… no! They’d have caught me by now.

GINGER:
Let’s talk about this, Bridgeway business. It’s come up in your work, your interviews, your… fan mail, oddly enough.

What happens when it starts?

LOCKE:
First thing?

It's as though the space inside this body is becoming too large, too restless.

Did you ever watch Fraggle Rock growing up? 

GINGER:
I refuse to answer that on legal advice.

LOCKE:
Good. Do you remember the creatures known as the Doozers?… Tiny, frantic little workers, running around inside you, changing the architecture of your core.

Except it’s not that.

Not really.

It’s just the closest lie I’ve got.

GINGER:
That is deeply unhelpful.

LOCKE:
I know. I’m doing great.

GINGER:
What about visual changes? People want something they can picture.

LOCKE:

You know when you're running for your life because you've stolen things from people that are extremely dangerous and now you don't know where to hide that won't get your family in trouble?

 Imagine licking a tree frog.

That will help with the first problem…

Oh right you were asking about visual changes dealing with the Bridgeway. 

GINGER:

Indeed I was. However, that may have been just as interesting.

LOCKE:

Yeah, that's something that happens… it's not really vision though.  

You don't have eyes anymore. 

You have no need for this shell. *points at himself then at the camera. 

It's images of lights and patterns given to you. 

Whatever you're using now… now that you no longer have a brain. 

Damnit Scarecrow that was mine… 

Sorry, wrong place… 

The tree frog,

I wouldn't know what it’s like because I can't give consent. 

However, it's like that, See?

GINGER:
I beg your pardon?

LOCKE:
You don’t need them. Eyes that is. The tree frog is mandatory. 

Whatever you are at that point isn’t using hardware like that.

The patterns of light are not in front of you. Not around you.

Given to you. No bow, no card.

GINGER:
That is not better.

LOCKE:
No, it’s indifferent.

GINGER:
Emotional changes then, ground us a bit.

LOCKE:

Emotions? Exhausted… cranky… hungry… are those emotions?

GINGER:

Continue.

LOCKE:

No seriously are those emotions? 

It's hard to tell without my good old copy of Winston's dictionary. 

GINGER:

Webster's.

LOCKE:

It's called Webster's here? 

Shite, it's that reality…

What's the date? 

GINGER:

Wednesday.

LOCKE:

Seriously, what's the date?! 

GINGER:
June 6th, 2122.

LOCKE:

(pause)

Right.

We should probably move faster then.

GINGER:
Why?

LOCKE:
No reason.

(pause)

Have I asked about the curry yet?

GINGER:
We are not stopping mid-interview for curry.

LOCKE:

You say that now.

GINGER:
Cognitive disorientation, yes or no?

LOCKE:
Oh, absolutely.

And some of it’s the Bridgeway.

Sometimes I look in the mirror and make faces just to check which one sticks.

GINGER:
Charming.

LOCKE:
You get used to it. Or you don’t. Either works.

It's hard to explain how it works or feels for me or the Bridgeway.

If that adrenaline while you're on the run from those dangerous elements we mentioned earlier… or later.

You did say Wednesday. 

GINGER:
During the shift, what changes first? Body, time, location?

LOCKE:
Yes.

GINGER:
You’re doing that on purpose.

LOCKE:
There’s no consistent order. No sequence.

Time goes first sometimes.

It has the taste of time quite a lot.

Curry helps.

Do you have curry here?

(Pauses) …The body forgets itself other times.

Either way, you do not want to get too attached to your body once it all starts.

Location, oddly enough, I’m quite good with location.

Once I know how much oxygen a place is using, I can usually negotiate.

GINGER:
Negotiate with what?

LOCKE:

Exactly.

(brief static)

GINGER:

Let's talk about your sense of “self continuity”? 

LOCKE:

Your sense of “self continuity”?  

Well that’s subjective, is it?

A question about my psychological sense of connection between my past, present, and future selves… 

Oooh that's a fun one. 

I wish this was a different date or reality. 

I would love to dive into that whole thing for a bit, but for no particular reason, I have to be out of here in say 22 minutes to 3 flowstars. 

Sorry they're called “hours” here.

(Complete deterioration — segment missing)

LOCKE:

There are keys.

Across everything.

Songs, mostly.

Sometimes objects.

Sometimes a leaf.

Sometimes—

No, it’s usually songs.

GINGER:
And these “keys” open the Bridgeway?

LOCKE:
Or it opens me.

Depends who got there first.

GINGER:
Let’s talk control. You’ve said you can anchor yourself.

What does that actually mean?

LOCKE:
It means I pretend I know what I’m doing.

GINGER:
Excellent. Very reassuring.

LOCKE:
Anchors are… things that resist change.

Thoughts. Memories. Sensations.

Sometimes Basbousa.

Sometimes a rerun episode of Super Friends on USA cartoon Express.

Sometimes a Dimetrodon.

Sometimes a Cajun catfish sandwich.

Sometimes—

No, that one sticks. That’s a good anchor.

GINGER:
You’re hungry.

LOCKE:
I’ve been hungry since 1997.

GINGER:
Memory layering, your words, not mine.

What does that feel like?

LOCKE:
That’s rude.

GINGER:
It’s my job.

LOCKE:
It's different for everybody and very personal. 

(pause)
I'll give you a pass on that this time. 

Just know that in the future when you meet your younger self, that it’s rude.

You’ll figure it out.

GINGER:
I sincerely hope not.

LOCKE:
You will.

Not today.

But you will. 

Eat something with starch in it. 

It will make the visit easier on one of you.

(signal distortion detected — segment partially missing)

LOCKE:
Joe, you shouldn’t be listening to this right now.

You’re late for class.

Again.

GINGER:
Who is Joe?

LOCKE:
Not important.

Unless he keeps ignoring it.

Then it becomes important.

GINGER:
Right. Moving on, tone. When people read your work, how should they feel?

LOCKE:
They shouldn’t.

You don’t get to assign feelings to people. That’s manipulative.

Who wrote that question?

GINGER:
My producer.

LOCKE:
Fire them.

Then rehire them. Builds character.

GINGER:
Final question before we wrap, what should people not assume about you?

LOCKE:
Truth.

Don’t trust it.

(pause)

Especially not the version standing behind you right now.

GINGER:
There is no one—

[signal interference — non-archival voice detected]

LOCKE:
Don’t worry about it.

Leave your windows open though.

(signal loss — timestamp missing)

GINGER:
—and that’s where we’ll cut that bit, legal says absolutely not, we are not airing anything about windows—

Anyway, Locke, it’s been… something.

LOCKE:
You say that like it’s a bad thing.

GINGER:
No, I say that like I need a drink.

LOCKE:
Same.

Curry first though.

GINGER:
You’re still on about that.

LOCKE:
You’ll thank me.

Get extra rice.

GINGER:
Why?

LOCKE:
For the starch.

GINGER:
Right. That’s all we’ve got time for, this has been the BBC Celebrity Podcast, I’m Ginger Reeds, my autobiography is available everywhere that still exists—

Locke Navarre, everyone.

LOCKE:
We did good.

GINGER:
We survived.

LOCKE:
Same thing.

(end of transcript — restoration complete)