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Episode 208

He wasn’t looking for fame.
He wasn’t trying to get rich.

Armed with a piece of chalk and a head full of wild ideas, Keith Haring hit the subways of New York like a lightning bolt. While others walked past empty black panels, he filled them with bold, dancing figures — babies, barking dogs, radiant hearts — pulsing with joy, anger, and something else... something deeper.

This wasn’t graffiti. This wasn’t gallery art. It was something in between.

In just a few years, Keith went from street corners to global stages. From underground clubs to children’s hospitals. From subway stations to the Berlin Wall.

He was an artist of the people — and for the people.
And as the AIDS crisis began to steal the lives of his friends — and then his own — Keith kept going. Drawing faster. Bigger. Louder.

This is the story of a boy from Pennsylvania who made the whole world feel something — with just a line.

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Episode 207

In the early hours of September 26, 1983, one man stood between the world and nuclear war. A quiet, unassuming lieutenant colonel in the Soviet Air Defence Forces, Stanislav Petrov was stationed in a bunker outside Moscow, monitoring the skies for signs of a U.S. missile attack. When the alarm sounded, and all systems insisted that destruction was imminent, Petrov hesitated. He questioned what the machines were telling him—and in doing so, may have saved the lives of hundreds of millions.

This is the story of a man whose calm judgment in a moment of unthinkable pressure changed the course of history.

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Episode 206

He was the face of fire and fury. A punk with jet-black eyes, a sneer that could cut glass, and a voice that turned dance floors into battlegrounds. But offstage, he was a soft-spoken Essex lad who loved motorbikes, dogs, and long country walks.

Keith Flint didn’t just front The Prodigy—he became their weapon. A symbol of 90s rave rebellion, channelling raw energy into something both chaotic and cathartic. His dancing was violent poetry. His presence? Unforgettable. He wasn’t polished. He was powerful.

But behind the devil-horned hair and blistering performances was a man forever walking a tightrope—between extremes, between personas, between light and shadow.

Keith Flint lived loud. And left quietly. But in his wake, he left an explosion that still echoes on dance floors around the world.

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