Richard Syrett's Strange Planet is a paranormal, occult, and conspiracy talk show that arrives three times a week. The billboard opening each episode states the mission plainly: follow the truth wherever it leads, expose evil and corruption and the secret machinations of powerful elites, reveal the high strangeness beneath the surface of supposed reality. Then the announcer hands off, coming to you from the Great White North and his studio beneath the stairs. What follows is rarely a monologue. The format is the long interview, and the host's main instrument is the follow-up question. In one episode, a speaker recounts being invited by Sergio to go down and see the president, only to learn the team was doing triangulation spotting, with a hit set for the plaza at a specific time and date. That account places the information at the Pentagon, which notified the CIA, which arranged logistical support. It is offered as testimony, and the listener is left to weigh it. Other episodes reach further back. One takes the Baphomet image and asks what the symbol was really built to carry, and who benefited from the version the public was handed. Another follows a levitation reported inside a church, a story that ends with a tremendous scream from the chapel and a nun who would not stop screaming. A third treats UFO disclosure as a possible construction rather than a revelation, and gives room to a guest comparing Irish fairy accounts from a thousand years ago, small and spindly with big eyes, to the way people describe encounters now, with a nod to Whitley's book Communion. The show does not live only in antiquity. A ballistics breakdown episode circles one word, match, and what happens once a prosecutor says it, a headline repeats it, and a so-called expert blesses it at a microphone. The defense job, one voice says, is like carrying a bank vault up Kilimanjaro in a pink tutu during a hailstorm. Theology gets equal weight elsewhere: the difference between the Nephilim of Genesis 6, described as fallen angel human hybrids and a race of giants, and the Watchers sent to keep an eye on what was already here. Conversations sometimes take a sharply political turn, and the host lets guests carry their own framing rather than trimming it. One exchange closes on quantum entanglement and spooky action at a distance as a model for spiritual connection. That range is the point. Episode numbers already run past 1,300, and new ones land every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.