Podcasts about Amoeba Music

Send us a textIn today's episode, we look at how social media gives us a grab-bag of people's memories of stars and some who weren't quite so successful, or scarcely successful at all.  Nonetheless, they are remembered by some and lionised on social media. The other side of "on-line" is the channels that present video imagery of any and everything, such as YouTube, TikTok and so on.  Jeff presents a bunch of interesting links for you to investigate.   In “Knockin' on Heaven's Door”, we lament the passing of such greats as David Sanbourn, John Mayall, as well as a couple of guys who have played beneath the radar for most of their career but still worked with giants like Frank Zappa, Jean-Luc Ponty, Ray Charles, Steve Hackett, and many others. Our “Album You Must Hear Before You Die” is John Mayall's “Blues Breakers with Eric Clapton” from 1966.  The album featured John Mayall, Eric Clapton, John McVie (Fleetwood Mac) and Hughie Flint (Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band) and marks the start of Clapton's legend as a British guitar god.  References:  social media, Nick Cave, “Australian bands from the 60's - 90's”, music nostalgia, Mi-Sex, Graffiti Crimes, Kevin Stanton, “Computer Games”, Space Race, “Live at the Wireless”, Kransky Sisters, Second Thoughts, Split Enz, Mental Notes, “Stranger than fiction”, Husker Du, Bob Mould, Greg Norton, Tim Walz, The Angels, Selina's, Coogee Bay Hotel, cost of stadium tours, Captain Matchbox Whoopee Band, Mick Conway, My Wahini in Wangaratta, Tamam Shud, The Dynamic Hepnotics, A Soul Kind of Feeling, Quora, Reddit, YouTube, "What's In My Bag?", Amoeba Music, Professor of Rock, Rick Beato, Playing For Change, the Needle Drop, Top 5 Record, Billy the Mountain, (Frank Zappa & The Mothers of Invention), Aynsley Dunbar, Howard Kaylan & Mark Volman, The Turtles, Anthony Amaratti, Muiris Mac Cartaine  Links:  Playlist (including “Billy The Mountain”) Other Links:Amoeba Music - What's In My Bag? Professor of Rock Rick Beato  Playing For Change When the Levee Breaks The Needle Drop Top Five Record Lists Billy the Mountain - Frank Zappa & The Mothers of Invention Computer Games – The Kransky sisters 

https://youtube.com/live/wEdL41aDjIk?feature=share On tonight's episode of "Exclusively Van Halen," we'll dive into Alex Van Halen's latest social media post featuring his drum solo that dropped today. We'll also flip through a rock magazine I picked up at Amoeba Music in Hollywood last week. I'll share a personal story about meeting Sammy Hagar at the Bammies Awards in Oakland, California, back in 2000. Plus, we'll check out some incredible Van Halen photos shared by Lynn Goldsmith on her Instagram in tribute to Eddie and Alex. “Exclusively Van Halen" is the ultimate destination for all things Van Halen. Step into the world of rock and roll legends as we delve deep into the history, music, and trivia surrounding one of the most iconic bands of all time. Join us as we explore Van Halen's storied career, from their electrifying performances to the making of their timeless hits. Get to know the band members, their inspirations, and the stories behind the songs that have rocked generations. But that's not all – tune in for exciting giveaways where you can win exclusive Van Halen merchandise and more. Whether you're a die-hard fan or just discovering the magic of Van Halen, this show promises to keep you entertained, informed, and rocking out from start to finish. Get ready to jump into the world of "Exclusively Van Halen" and experience the music like never before. We talk all things Van Halen! #vanhalen #johnnybeaneTV #eddievanhalen #alexvanhalen #exclusivelyvanhalen

We stopped at the ICONIC Amoeba Music... and we had the most tender conversation on music and grief with Co-Owner Karen Pearson. We loved hearing about her beloved Ilene. We could have talked for hours. We hope this episode finds the people who need to hear it so please share! And don't forget to follow us ⁠⁠⁠⁠@remembermepodcast⁠⁠⁠⁠ and ⁠⁠⁠⁠@wearehfc⁠⁠⁠⁠ on Instagram because there's even more content there (+ more to come) about our trip and our heart to hearts in the car about all things caregiving, grief and more. Navigating caregiving can be tough, but you don't have to do it alone. Check out the HFC Caregiver Roadmap ⁠⁠⁠⁠here⁠⁠⁠⁠. Thank you to HFC for supporting our work! For all things RM: ⁠⁠www.remembermeftd.com --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/rememberme/support

Low Anxiety, Going Places In this episode, I give a shoutout to Kevin for Montana info, share insights from Andrew Pulrang's Disability Thinking, and discuss prepping Dax Pierson interview questions. I also talk about my kids' haircuts, our neighborhood, music, therapy, hospital visits, and my recent solo trips and poetry publications. Shout Outs Shout outs to Kevin. thanks for the info about Montana. Kevin does comic book reviews on his YouTube channel Under The Cowl Of MS. Disability Thinking Now reading Andrew Pulrang's Disability Thinking Substack. I've always been partial to the combination of disability with thinking, the guy's been on another level for a long time. Writing Dax Pierson interview questions. I have been lagging, trying to be recovered fully before doing the interview. I think it may be time to move forward. I'll Gladly Pay Tomorrow For A Haircut Today After months of hair drama, i took my kids to Supercuts and John's long hair was over in a moment. He was happy. With his new haircut, he's ready for summer. I'm glad that our neighborhood is a protected cul-de-sac. It means the kids can play outside with the other kids in the neighborhood and there's hardly any car traffic. New Music: Magic Fig, "Magic Fig" Magic Fig. San Francisco psych band. I heard it reviewed at the KFJC staff meeting and I ordered it from the group's bandcamp page. Cool new record – local band – insane amount of styles – dreamlike hooks – psychedelic SF – full sonic fireworks, Silver Current Label – over the top – combo Sid Barrett mixed with HR Puff n' Stuff KFJC Music Notes 6/5/24 24-Hour yogurt is smoother than 8-hour yogurt, go figure. I went to the Express Care at the Eden Valley Medical Center bc my ear was feeling blocked, like it had somebody's thumb stuck in it. They prescribed Flonase and something else, and they've been making it easier to breathe through the machine My anxiety is low, put fast away, like it's in the past. My talk therapist thinks it may be due to the EMDR therapy that we've been doing. Excursions I drove the kids to Foothill College where we went to KFJC and we hung out with Jack Tar and Good Karma before having snack on the quad, and then we drove to Hayward. In Hayward, we went to Burger King, a place the kids wanted to go badly after seeing the commercial a million times. Territorial Expansion The next day, I went to Oakland on my own. I've learned how to strap the wheelchair onto my car by myself. On Father's Day, I took the kids to Berkeley. We went to Amoeba Music, Moe's Books, Games of Berkeley, and had slices of pizza for lunch. My new expanded base of operations includes Oakland, Berkeley and Los Altos. Acceptances My ears were burning, my vibe was strong. Three poems were accepted for publication in two different journals. After a long gap, they were accepted in the same day by editors working half a world apart. It'll be my first time publishing my work in another country, and also my first time reprinting a poem. Stay tuned, you'll be the first to know..

Big Mack is an underground legend in the San Francisco rap scene whose 1995 debut album "A Better Way" is a collector's item that continues to sell units around the world. His family has deep roots in Hunters Point, and Mack saw the turf wars unfold right in front of him. Mack also became deeply immersed in the local hip-hop scene, starting of as a DJ before rapping along with his cousin, Taydatay of 11/5. Signing to Fatt Sak records, he jumped in the rap game and although his career path took a few detours, he continues to rap to this day while now focusing on being a family man. -- Sponsored by Stem Social https://stemsocial.io https://instagram.com/stem.social Also sponsored by Lost Soul Courier Collective - call or text (415) 275-1922 for free Narcan delivery in San Francisco https://lostsoulcouriercollective.org For more info contact @traceyh415 -- Hat & shirt by Rebel 8: https://rebel8.com Supported by Amoeba Music: 1855 Haight St, San Francisco Graffiti supplies from Dying Breed SF: https://www.dyingbreedsf.com -- For promo opportunities on the podcast, e-mail: historyofthebaypodcast@gmail.com -- Produced by DEO @deo415, videography by @mvp_kingced --- History of the Bay Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ZUM4rCv6xfNbvB4r8TVWU?si=9218659b5f4b43aa Online Store: https://dregsone.myshopify.com Follow Dregs One: Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/1UNuCcJlRb8ImMc5haZHXF?si=poJT0BYUS-qCfpEzAX7mlA Instagram: https://instagram.com/dregs_one TikTok: https://tiktok.com/@dregs_one Twitter: https://twitter.com/dregs_one Facebook: https://facebook.com/dregsone415 --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/historyofthebay/support

In San Francisco's Geneva Towers housing projects, Lil Bean's father, Bner, was a neighborhood factor who exposed him to Bay Area rappers like Mac Dre and Messy Marv. When Bean was 11, his father died and he became the man of the house. After turning down opportunities to play college basketball, he turned to rapping as a way to provide for his family. Since then, Bean has racked up millions of views and streams, toured the country with 24kGoldn, appeared on Empire's Fo15 album produced by Zaytoven, and started his own clothing line, Beno World. Lil Bean has already made history as one of the hottest up-and-coming rappers from SF. Lil Bean "Back To The Basics 2" album: https://music.empi.re/backbasics2 -- Sponsored by Stem Social https://stemsocial.io https://instagram.com/stem.social Also sponsored by Lost Soul Courier Collective - call or text (415) 275-1922 for free Narcan delivery in San Francisco https://lostsoulcouriercollective.org For more info contact @traceyh415 -- Hat & shirt by Rebel 8: https://rebel8.com Supported by Amoeba Music: 1855 Haight St, San Francisco Graffiti supplies from Dying Breed SF: https://www.dyingbreedsf.com -- For promo opportunities on the podcast, e-mail: historyofthebaypodcast@gmail.com -- Produced by DEO @deo415, videography by @mvp_kingced --- History of the Bay Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ZUM4rCv6xfNbvB4r8TVWU?si=9218659b5f4b43aa Online Store: https://dregsone.myshopify.com Follow Dregs One: Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/1UNuCcJlRb8ImMc5haZHXF?si=poJT0BYUS-qCfpEzAX7mlA Instagram: https://instagram.com/dregs_one TikTok: https://tiktok.com/@dregs_one Twitter: https://twitter.com/dregs_one Facebook: https://facebook.com/dregsone415 --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/historyofthebay/support

Episode #516! California '24! This week DL talks about his recent family trip to Cali. Highlights of the trip include Disneyland with Rise of the Resistance in Star Wars Galaxy's Edge and Radiator Springs in California Adventure. The Academy Awards Museum, Hollywood and Amoeba Music are also discussed. Check it out!

公众号：SMFM2016这是一期和「撕票俱乐部」的串台节目，大卫老师刚从什么电苔的发源地——洛杉矶回来，忍不住想和我们嘚瑟一下。既然如此，我们就来录一期关于我们共同的“LA LA Land”洛杉矶的回忆，从游客和多年留学生视角给大家介绍这座城市，这份路书，绝对地道。本期多次爆笑预警，直男忆往昔预警，介意者慎入。00:00 寒暄和主题介绍4:33 从主题乐园开始聊，为什么大卫认为老旧的加州迪士尼比上海的好玩儿？12:46 洛杉矶中心的惊悚city walk，大张伟危险的歌曲想起来了24:12 湖人主场NBA看球体验，现场看文班亚马和老詹了36:40 海钓体验，大卫55刀弄一条，孔老师只会“打窝”？44:55 洛杉矶中国戏院看70mm胶片版《沙丘2》是什么体验50:53 让大卫花了1000刀的世界最大独立唱片店 Amoeba Music，黑胶天堂57:53 洛杉矶的两大艺术馆 Getty Center 和 LACMA1:09:48 孔老师和小宋的洛杉矶私藏地点（各种吃的和电影院）1:27:48 回国之后，我们对洛杉矶最重要的记忆落点1:32:20 对于热爱电影的人，为什么洛杉矶如此的重要片尾曲：《LA In The Snow》by 王以太想做嘉宾，联系我们：whatfmmovie@163.com孔老师微博@做着学生的孔老师王老师微博@浩浩很含蓄什么电苔官方微博@什么电苔B站：什么电苔孔老师 本期阵容：唐小友、大卫卫、孔老师、小宋

Hailing from the Central Coast town of Seaside, Stretch has played an integral role in the Bay Area music industry for decades. Starting out as a co-founder of a local record label and music store owner, Stretch began booking Bay rappers to perform in his hometown. One of those was the legendary Mac Dre, who tapped Stretch to help him run Thizz Entertainment and get Thizz Nation off the ground. After Dre's passing, Stretch worked with Mistah Fab and the spin-off companies Town Thizzness and Thizz City. From there, Stretch became a partner of SMC Recording's Will Bronson and co-founded Active Management. He has managed some of the Bay Area's greatest talents including Erk Tha Jerk, Kreayshawn, D-Lo, HBK Gang, Sage The Gemini, SOBxRBE, 24kGoldn, and more. -- Watch this episode on YouTube: https://youtu.be/LakWtJCx6ho -- Follow Dregs One: Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/1UNuCcJlRb8ImMc5haZHXF?si=poJT0BYUS-qCfpEzAX7mlA Instagram: https://instagram.com/dregs_one TikTok: https://tiktok.com/@dregs_one Twitter: https://twitter.com/dregs_one Facebook: https://facebook.com/dregsone415 -- Produced by DEO @deo415 -- Videography by @mvp_kingced -- Sponsored by Amoeba Music, San Francisco @amoebasf Clothing and graffiti supplies from @dyingbreedsf available at 3045 24th Street, San Francisco or https://www.dyingbreedsf.com --- “History of the Bay” theme song: https://songwhip.com/dregsone/history-of-the-bay History of the Bay Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ZUM4rCv6xfNbvB4r8TVWU?si=9218659b5f4b43aa --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/historyofthebay/support

For the Record is a conversation series where we speak with all manner of music heads — DJs, music journos, indie label captains, record shop owners, listening bar kingpins, et al — about their stories + the music that makes them. Ben Steidel is a DJ, musician, and co-owner of Brooklyn Record Exchange. Originally from San Francisco, he spent nearly 10 years working at Amoeba Music before relocating to Brooklyn with his band Lemonade. He opened his first store Co-op 87 Records in Greenpoint in 2011, which was re-named Brooklyn Record Exchange upon opening their Bushwick location in 2019. He's a passionate record collector and music head spanning a wide variety of genres and has been a resident DJ at The Lot Radio since 2016. Explore more of this conversation and others: https://www.greymatter.fm/community/ftr005-ben-steidel --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/greymatterfm/message

Outside SoFi stadium, fans who didn't have tickets to Taylor Swift's concert still find a way to sing, dance, and exchange friendship bracelets. In a new podcast, two Amoeba Music staffers share their discoveries about favorite albums from the iconic record store's collection. Anaheim's former political leaders Harry Sidhu and Todd Ament are alleged to have been involved in a “potential criminal conspiracy,” according to a new report. 

"Take me on a journey..." Oh, we're about to do just that!On the inaugural episode of EarWax, hosts Hilary and Cody give the rundown on who we are, the framework for the show, and what we hope to accomplish with Amoeba Music's very first podcast.For our first Album of the Week, we're looking at Donna Summer's "Bad Girls." Full of bangers and ballads, this record is a window into a turning point in both musical history, and our culture at large.Thanks for listening! Check out everything we have going on via the info below: Instagram: @earwaxpod TikTok: @earwaxpod Amoeba on Instagram: @amoebahollywood @amoebasf @amoebaberkeley Questions, Suggestions, Corrections (surely we're perfect): earwaxpodcast@amoeba-music.com Credits:Edited by Claudia Rivera-TinsleyAll music written and performed by Spencer Belden"EarWax Main Theme" performed by Spencer Belden feat. David Otis

Introducing EarWax, Amoeba Music's first podcast!Hosts Hilary and Cody chat about new releases and in-store events, so you are always up to date on the goings on of the world's largest independent record store.Each week, we tell the story of one particular album. How was it made? Where does it exist in our history? What effect did it have then, and how does it affect us today?EarWax is two longtime record store clerks doing what we do best - learning about and sharing the stories behind the albums we love.Thanks for listening! Check out everything we have going on via the info below: Instagram: @earwaxpod TikTok: @earwaxpod Amoeba on Instagram: @amoebahollywood @amoebasf @amoebaberkeley Questions, Suggestions, Corrections (surely we're perfect): earwaxpodcast@amoeba-music.com Credits:Edited by Claudia Rivera-TinsleyAll music written and performed by Spencer Belden"EarWax Main Theme" performed by Spencer Belden feat. David Otis

Celebrate two years of Yesshift with us! There are also a couple birthdays this week. With Igor Khoroshev's coming up, we're talking a bit about Piano Works, continuing our "first solo album since joining Yes" series. And for Peter Banks' upcoming birthday, we're highlighting Something's Coming / Beyond and Before: The BBC Recordings, which even came with liner notes written by Banks! (Trevor Horn's birthday is also coming up, but we'll be doing a review of his autobiography on Saturday at noon PDT.) We'll then segue into a discussion of a huge part of music fandom: music stores! Steven acquired a few Yes-related items from Amoeba Music in Hollywood a few weeks ago, and we'll each talk about the experience of collecting in-person via music stores and what interesting finds we've had in the past. Steven will also share highlights from the Jon Anderson Zoom Q&A a few weeks back. And we'll close by looking ahead at what we have coming up! --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/yesshift/support

Vocalist and songwriter Joe Casey of Protomartyr pays YMAAA a visit and introduces Al to a band with which he is completely unfamiliar. Joe talks about Detroit-based punk band Tyvek and their 2007 album, Fast Metabolism, which is a compilation of some of their earliest singles and EPs. Joe explains why he chose this album for the show and discusses his personal connections to Tyvek and why they have been an inspiration to him. Joe also talks about Protomartyr's upcoming sixth album, Formal Growth in the Desert, and answers some questions about the tour for the album.Al referred to a video that Joe did for Amoeba Music's What's In My Bag series. Watch it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JIYyJD24Ppg&t=4sJoe and Al talked extensively about Protomartyr's video for “Elimination Dances.” You should definitely check it out. It's really cool. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Uf98p7DsdkJoe talked about the difficulties that Protomartyr had in scheduling an album release event date in Detroit. Update: They scheduled it, and it happened on May 27…before the Tigers-White Sox game at Comerica Park!Be sure to follow Protomartyr on Twitter and Instagram: @protomartyrbandThey also have a very nice website, http://protomartyrband.com/, and a Bandcamp page: https://protomartyr.bandcamp.com/.Al is on Twitter at @almelchiorBB, and this show has accounts on Twitter and Instagram at @youmealbum. Be sure to follow @youmealbum to find out in advance about upcoming guests and featured albums for this podcast.Subscribe for free to You, Me and An Album: The Newsletter and participate in weekly chats about this podcast's featured albums! https://youmealbum.substack.com/If you are interested in supporting this podcast, please check out the show's Patreon site, https://www.patreon.com/youmealbum. Your contributions are greatly appreciated and keep this show going.1:13 Joe joins the show2:05 Joe explains how Tyvek inspired him and helped him get Protomartyr started6:31 Kevin Boyer influenced Joe's musical tastes and lyric writing10:34 Joe explains why he picked Fast Metabolism for this episode11:48 Tyvek received some flak over the cover for their first album16:39 Joe talks about the specifics of why he loves listening to Fast Metabolism17:55 Joe discusses his favorite tracks from the album21:43 What makes “Honda” a blueprint for other punk songs?25:39 Al talks about some lyrics he enjoyed28:46 Joe talks about the art of writing about a specific place31:00 Al sees “Air Conditioner” as being different from the other songs on the compilation33:20 It's important to Joe to remind people to listen to overlooked bands like Tyvek34:39 Joe shares some updates on Tyvek35:48 Making artwork is a reason why Joe wanted to be in a band37:10 Joe talks about the development of the concept for Protomartyr's “Elimination Dances” video41:45 We have another new Protomartyr video to look forward to 42:56 Joe explains why Protomartyr recorded Formal Growth in the Desert in West Texas44:27 Joe answers Al's questions about Protomartyr's upcoming tourOutro is from “Elimination Dances” by Protomartyr.Support the show

[The Festival Project Presents: {ENTER THE MULTIVERSE} THE LEGEND OF… THE INFINITE SKRILLIFILES GERALD'S WORLD & ASCENSION DEATHWISH LEGENDS THE INSOMNIAC {ENTER THE MULTIVERSE} SEASON 6 - ACT II - PART II I almost left my Elfbar in Raton, But I couldn't let go; It just held on. I had to leave my skateboard back at home , But now I'm gone. Now i'm gone Now I'm sick to my stomach, I didn't want this Now I'm so sick to my stomach; I didn't want it And all the non believers, And all the sinners, saints together on a train, wishing to be rich or famous; Freedom, Plain and simple *very scary music* I warned you; No bloodshed in LA. [A single drop of blood hits the pavement with a splash, in a vivid slow motion close up of the gritty Downtown Los Angeles sidewalk] FLASHBACK; Have you ever heard of a blood oath? I knew something was wrong with that girl. It's not just that girl; It's this place. People do a lot of things to get by in LA. What is “get by” You're never gonna make it. Well, then; I was never going to anyway–so it really doesn't matter. “The Golden Girl” gal·lant adjective 1.(of a person or their behavior) brave; heroic."she had made gallant efforts to pull herself together" Similar: brave courageous valiant valorous bold plucky daring fearless intrepid heroic lionhearted stouthearted doughty mettlesome great-spirited honorable noble manly manful macho dashing daredevil death-or-glory undaunted unflinching unshrinking unafraid dauntless indomitable gutsy spunky ballsy have-a-go venturous Opposite: cowardly 2.(of a man or his behavior) giving special attention and respect to women; chivalrous."a gallant gentleman came over and kissed my hand" Similar: chivalrous gentlemanly courtly courteous respectful polite attentive gracious considerate thoughtful obliging mannerly gentle Opposite: discourteous rude nounARCHAIC /ɡəˈlant,ɡəˈlänt/ a man who pays special attention to women."he launches himself into a gallant's career of amorous intrigue" Similar: suitor wooer admirer worshipper beau sweetheart lover love beloved boyfriend young man man friend escort swain paramour verbARCHAIC /ɡəˈlant,ɡəˈlänt/ (of a man) flirt with (a woman)."Mowbray was gallanting the Polish lady" Gee' Mo had his hands all over me, which made me uncomfortable—but I had sworn solemnly to myself never to ‘tell' on any man again—and neither would I call them out, or make objections to their actions in any way; the age told story had always been ‘her word against mine ‘, making the woman or victim in question appear weak, and of course, untrustworthy—whatever that meant anyway, and not that any of his attempts were hostile, He knew I was openly celibate, and supposedly respected that—however, I just found it best to wholly keep him in the friend zone and keep the notion to myself, as he still seemed to have some kind of hope for something greater between us—and though I did consider him more than a friend, I considered him more like family than anything, his own blurred lines a shadow that had become too great to perhaps any longer be colegues—at least for now—especially that I was fleeing the US once more in complete secrecy—and though there had been some good work between the two of us, I wasn't equalling to his vibration anymore, his music sounded strange and off, and the words that would come to my mind were less easy than pushed or forced, and repetitive in sound and style. I knew that I was leaving, but had refused to tell anybody, especially Gee', who may have raised questions as to where I was going—something that seemed to be good to keep quiet entirely, as even earlier in the day I had tried to give my tour list to Equinox to see if I could bypass upgrading my membership to Destination by giving them a list of dates and cities I would visit and being given access to the visitors list in each city—I was however persuaded into not doing so and keeping my Desrination Stetus, as after attempting to give my home club my list of cities and dates, even against my own instinct and better judgement, the manager dawned a look in his eye that said “just lay low”, and as low as I could lay, I didn't know how long it would last with the onslaught of things I would have to do on my phone and computer over wifi during the long traveling time. Still, I wanted to travel lightly—and perhaps it was Divine intervention itself in the form of God when my $80 Nike backpack broke, leaving me scurrying for a new one that I could afford simply with the remaining balance on my gift card—luckily, I did find one that presumably fit my needs available for pickup, of course, even less high quality than the oversized “training” bag I had purchased just a few months before, not realizing that 32 Liters would be more than enough space, hard to fit under an airplane seat, and Ill-fitting the more petite I would become, or even as my weight fluctuated, just awkward looking in general—and though it was a very attractive bag, I had always thought it to be a little too ‘loud' and ostentatious, though I had become attracted somehow after being unable to return it as I had thought to when I had first ordered it, receiving the bag just before leaving Las Vegas, which I would return to the following day to retrieve the drum machine I had pawned as a matter of absolute survival. INT. TRAIN. WHENEVER. The best part about riding the train is… CUT TO: A FIREY PLANE CRASH CUT BACK TO: You can't fall out of the sky. (Ya.) SHIA LA— Fuck it. SHIA LABEOUF IS: “THE AIR MARSHALL” Ohh, what's this one about? Oh my God. I wasn't writing, and so I must have been in some way dead-I wasn't feeling even a whisp of inspiration, anymore—only annoyance, and slight suffering. The train ride had gone all too quickly, and though I had started chipping away at some projects, there was nothing finished. Though the inhuman vibration and hostile tone of LA was long behind me, something did linger on a bit, perhaps in the form of love or some other feeling or attachment I had formed during my time there. I was, myself, vibrating differently— waving into a motion of the unknown, and not that it mattered what would happen anymore—I hadn't anything to love, or anything to lose, and so everything just seemed a wash entirely. I had never been so dejected in my life. Now I gotta do some Sunnï Blū shit. —Hurry. Hurry what. We gotta go, Oh. Oh Deng. Oh dang. What happened? No, that's just what planet they're from. Dang. That's tricky. New York— Ehrhm. You look good. Hm. You cleaned up. Ya. Nice. Yeah it is. Nice. I said that.. Stop incepting me. No. Stop this please. Just stop sleeping. Okay. I wish you would die. I just did. WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE. idobntknow. SUNNI BLŪ I DO WHAT I WANT. Fuck, What. That's Sunnï Blu Okay? She does what she wants. That's not SUPACREE. Is it not? No. What happened? S/he chanxed. I'm a “they” –And this is how it all makes sense. What is this fucking place. “East” Ugh. Oh, there's Toronto. That makes sense. Ew. I know right. UGH. LOOK AT ALL THIS POOP. I know, huh. LOOK AT IT. Don't do maps on kx5. Should we “Earth” We should Earth. Ew. What dimension is this? Fucking sick–gross. This isnt Earth. This is Earth! What happened to it. *coughs* It seems some demonic force has taken over. *coughs* Ew. This is fucked up. Should we leave. NO! *coughs* I mean –yeah, but we should at least try to figure out what happened first. *coughs* First?! Or, later–maybe *coughs*coughs*coughs* Yeah, lets leave. FUCK. What, dude, guh. I told you no deadmau5 on the train. No you didn't. I should have. I SHOULD HAVE KILLED THAT THING WHEN I SAW IT. How would you do that? THE DEADMAUS Go to sleep. K. Did you guys “Earth” Uh, yeah, but– Was it awesome? Uhm, no. No, dude. Why, what happened? We don't know. It was bad. “Adventure is allowing the unexpected to happen to you. Exploration is experiencing what you have not experienced before.” — Richard Aldington Schenectady Ahahaha Poughkeepsie lol what. All these are places. Yeah, I know. People live in these places . Oh My God. What. Where's Whole Foods? You need Jesus. Where's he at? JESUS CHRIST Timmy, this party is lit. TIMMY TURNER Yeah, thanks bro. JESUS CHRIST I love you. TIMMY TURNER (Leaving) K that's weird. IT DOESN'T What . MAKE ANY SENSE. I simulated this experience, in the construct of time In the confines of space—just to have this moment. Uh. Train—-To Deadmau5. [BLŪ Exercises Furiously] Train—To Deadmau5. [BLŪ boards the train hurriedly] SOMETIMES— UGH. I'm all wrapped up; Wrapped up in your love –But you never come for me I'm all wrapped up in your love Wonder what comes of it You never come for me I'm all wrapped up in your love; A half smile on my face; (l love you) Always thinking of you What else can I do, but To fee stupid Can't get over you, but As the sun comes up, I wander off, Remember us I guess it's a long walk Guess i'll just fall out of it About time… About that– I'm all wrapped up, yeah Wrapped up in your love Sonny Moore had inspired some of the greatest things i had ever written in my time; and all with just one look–two eyes, and no words at all, began an infinite unravelling of words from God's hands and into my minds eye. ASCENSION Rise of Ascencia Farro. …Your Majesty. I need help. Don't burden me with your woes. I beg your pardon? No, don't beg. THE SUITE LIFE OF SUNNÏ BLŪ LINDSAY LOHAN is sleeping FACE DOWN on the couch in SunnÏ Blū's Studio Lindsay, wake up. Mmfh. [Does not wake up. At all.] Lindsay. Mmf. Tequila. [Suddenly very awake, in fact; she has suddenly perked up with an amazing glow. ] *very serious knocks on the door* Oh shit. [suddenly, more drunk again] –oh shit. *three more knocks* Where's the tequila? SUNNÏ Ah, shit. Is that your lawyer, or your manager? Shit, maybe both. SUNNI. OPEN THE DOOR . –Might even be my agent, too. OPEN THE GODDAMN DOOR. (Both, in cheesy unison, tiny rock concert} I CHIMED IN WITH A HAVENT YOU PEOPLE EVER HEARD OF— [Sunni opens the door.] No, it's “closing the door– not “open the door” “The Goddamn door.” Right, Goddamit. –where's the tequila. Where it is– [Sunni points in a wayward direction; Lindsay stumbles morning-aftery into the booth. Eww–”morning aftery” Not like that. *addendum* [That Is, just to say that this scene takes place in the afterdays haze of a very –Very Holy Shit , God. What. You rule. [Lindsay enters the booth and uncaps a bottle of tequila so effing fancy, it hurts to look at.] So fucking fancy. Was that lindsay lohan? Yeah it is. It's still Linsday Lohan, Morgen– –It's ‘Morgan”; –She's just over there now. Not “was”. Still is Lindsay Lohan. Presently. How are you even friends. FLASHBACK SUNNI BLU sup, Lindsay Lohan! LINDSAY LOHAN sup. Who are you? SUNNI BLU I'm Sunni Blū. LINDSAY LOHAN LIKE—the rapper?! SUNNI BLU Not “like”. Am. LINDSAY LOHAN tight. SUNNI BLU. Sup. LINDSAY LOHAN Sup. SUNNI BLU I heard you like to party. LINDSAY LOHAN I like to party. SUNNI BLU —and, you DJ. LINDSAY LOHAN Oh yeah, huh! I was a DJ once. SUNNI BLU so was I. CUT BACK TO: SUNNI BLU now we're besties. I might be trapped in this hell, here, I figure But it's over when it's over, I cannot live here, Or anywhere Here's my liver; All he needed was a sliver, the silver lizard But I gave him the whole thing The whole thing The whole thing I swallowed the whole world whole, once And now it all happens, Over and over; A simple digestion And I've got no questions left No intuition, either No black characters, No brown eyes; I hate my life I hate my life Blonde is good, And redheads are nice; I hate my life I hate my life ‘Rich white peope are so fucking nasty sometimes' I had the best and the worst of it at Equinox, and while I considered it a miracle that I had even come so far, as to consider luxury fitness a priority and absolute necessity, even forgoing eating what I wanted or other comforts in paying my gym dues, now I had given myself what I thought to be the opportunity of a lifetime—it was on my bucket list, at least last time I checked, to visit Equinox in every city the chain had locations—and having put all my time and every fiber of my being into just ‘staying afloat', my idea of ‘living a little' was to workout as much as possible, while I still could—-as money was well beyond running dry just out or the sheer expense of traveling—or now—“touring”, as I would consider it, using my music as a means of not appearing homeless and destitute, and using my podcast as a medium for its promotion—though, I still didn't know where my listeners or downloads were coming from, and my Spotify, the last I had checked, had “0 monthly listeners” it was beginning again to be clear how much the United States hated black people, for whatever reason— and how privelege and power had overtaken even the best people's better senses. Humanity was slipping away—and so was I; the best I could do was to make my body as comfortable to live in as possible, and for whatever reason, I was drawn to Equinox to do so. Anandar or someone like her had once said, the key to being rich, is to spend money like you're rich, no matter the amount of money you had—knowing that in doing so, your money would multiply tenfold. I had never done so before, but between Equinox and my food stamps being stolen, the amount of money I had been draining myself of did indeed make me feel and look as if I had endless disposable income—and perhaps I did somehow—somewhere in the near future , if I could just convince myself I really was as special as my writing made me seem, or feel, simply reading it myself, or having chosen a carefully select few to read it. I was, indeed, a genius: the problem was, geniuses and writers particularly up to then had been notoriously famous for dying alone, penniless and undiscovered, and very often—by our own hands. Eleven since, I left Hell, and been in Heaven since I'm heaven sent I burn incense —A CROSS DIMENSIONAL PARALLEL REALITY. The taste of bile filled my mouth and sat on the back of my tongue as I tried to avoid the inevitability of swallowing it; it had all been worth it—the train to Hollywood had not altogether been as horrible as it usually was on The Expo—and as I rode 9 stops exactly into my old stomping grounds, I exited the Hollywood and Vine metro station to a nostalgic and familiar territory; this is where my Hollywood story had started, and had apparently yet to end, as I swept the Walk of Fame in a way I supposed I never had, the shadow of my old self following not behind, but directly overhead; I was, indeed, just a ghost. I ended up at Amoeba Music, hair dripping wet, and, though I had yet to eat in a couple of days, not feeling as if I had quite done a proper workout, rushed in the final hour to Hollywood, as the downtown location had been closed; Fine by me, as I was over and done with the downtown atmosphere altogether, and though I wasn't a particular fan of the new Amoeba Music location, I had felt a close calling to go to Hollywood that day, even before I knew I would have to—and ending up there anyway seemed to be another synchronicity indeed. ‘Spend it on something you love.' The voice had said, perhaps just my own—but not sounding anything at all like my own internal dialogue. No, this voice seemed entirely more divine, and so I took it as such, and was careful not to spend any of the carefully collected and specially marked dollar bills on anything I absolutely didn't love—and though I was terrified of the overall outcome of everything—now jobless, or rather, without secured income—my job having become myself in the process of writing, making music, and improving my physique to its peak performance and physical fitness, I had been careful not to spend any money at all on anything I absolutely didn't need. However, I did need music after all, and loved it more than anything, besides my own son—who did at least ask about me, after all, according to my estranged ex, who I had shielded myself from entirely, changing my name, my number, and my location for my own safety and peace of mind, rather than for aesthetic reasons, as anyone might have thought. But really, no one might have thought at all, as I was careful to leave everyone and everything behind that had come with my birth name, besides my father, my son, and my beloved Auntie, who I still allowed to call me “Cree”, though I had at least hinted at at an aycronym of my new name, giving her my address in case of emergency, or any other reason. But, I hadn't enough money to pay my mailbox, and so even that was irrelevant, as everything was. Suicide By Cop. Maybe. Idk. Look: the tinier you are—the bigger my dick seems. I get it. So be tiny. I like cereal. I like cake. I like cookies. I like shakes. So you know what. What. That's okay. REAPER Give me my scythe, Billie. BILLIE ELLISH It's a miniature scythe. REAPER Yeah—my—miniature scythe. BILLIE ELLISH It's mine now. REAPER No, it's not— BILLIE ELLISH But—you gave it to me. REAPER It came with the job. BILLIE ELLISH The job sucked! REAPER I know that! “LIL' BITZ” I'm just mildly concerned that LAPD squad cars are still 1995 crown Vic's. Like: how do you even catch sometime in a mazzerati? The guy who drives a mazzeratti's like: hah. You don't. You know what it is You know what it is— You know what it is That's the business Comin in hot, like a chicken wing This ain't Toy Story—got no friend in me, You feelin me? Cold as Minnesota, I'm the ice queen Nice bling— Hollywood should buy this bitch a wedding ring Amphetamine Trick, you're a half, I'm the whole thing Whole Foods market, gotta own me No mink coat, I'm a vegan, Hocus Pocus, I'm three witches Okay, from the top Hello? This is Hollywood calling; We want the festival project We just wrote up the contract Come get your deposit: You're nominated for an Oscar Your Star On The Walk looks Awesome it's On Us Yeah? That's what's up I'll come up I'll come up I'll come up Say what's up That's my shite; I'm rep in the festival project Ya'll like “what's that?” I'll tel you all about it,—that's Coming up next Oh yeah, Oh yeah Tune in I'm On Welcome to your Hollywood life The good life Good life Welcome to the Hollywood life That's right That's right Welcome to your Hollywood life The good life Good life Welcome to the Hollywood life That's right That's right They call me young Hollywood, They robbed me good in Santa Monica And I so I got no address yet; But I'm coming up like one direction I just checked my reflection like: Mirror mirror on the wall I gotta go Hollywood's callin And I don't do this often Only when o bless the red carpet Comin in hot, like a chicken wing Call me Toy Story— got a friend in me, You feelin me? On the big screen livin out my dreams, I wrote my scenes, the Hollywood life: I neee I ride by On a tomeline I write, I like My nice things. The life I lead, Is ritghteous, I defy my means Applied IT, I might be AI, Fine my me; Cause all I see Is light I like, And I'm liking my Hollywood life, I think. It's just some Hollywood shit Isn't it fabulous This is some Hollywood shiy Isn't it fabulous You know what it is You know what it is— You know what it is That's the business One door close. Then another door opens So sick flow, go home with a cold then Woah, Hoe—cold like some snow boots Pants so big, I can parachute (PARIS SHOOT) Hoes look fake, like a blow up doll Harlem shake, i'm bout to blow up ya'll We think we may have found your home planet. Oh, you think? Look at this. [DUFF views the distant soarkling object through the telescope lens, squinting.] Is that it?! I don't know… [Suddenly, as DIFF begins to focus on the planet; a high pitched ring only DUFF seems to hear strikes her away from the telescope, writhing in pain.] Woah, what happened?! Are you okay?! Is she okay?! [DUFF falls into a coma] What, no way. WhT is this. It's a show. WhTs it called. Idk. Shut up. You shut up. I'm watching —shhh! Call the doctor! MEANWHILE, IN HOLLYWOOD Girl. Hm. Look at these motherfuckets* Ooh, keep that. Wow. Huh. The entire reason for turning on my phone was to write about that experience. Which experience? I don't know, I've had like ten experiences since I walked into that door—and I wanted to write about all of them. Uh huh. But I lost it. You lost it? Not all of it. Well. Some of it. Which ones did you keep? The Good ones Oh shit, it's almost coming back to me Uh. First of all. —French people in love are cute. What. That shit is literally the cutest thing ever. French people—in love—speaking French. That shit is sexy Did you see his eyes? That's okay, Cree— I ‘That'll be enough. Ugh. Now, class— It's time for a sonnet, or synonym Senators, gentlemen— Get in your rhythm and trip to this; Cause it's about to get lit again: Call me illiterate, ignorant, negligent; Never irrelevant, disheveled or leveled since, This entrance is Heaven sent Evidence of everlasting natural intelligence That'll do. Okay. Let's break fast, I make gas, And bake snacks; I lay facts I slay slacks I'm maybacks You may ask Questions about the lesson, With a raised hand —okay class? . . . Oh— You forgot it was a lesson? Let me reflect and inspect, Resurrect the message just a bit— I'm the profession, If I ask, They answer “Yessir” I guess, er Thet yur just a jester Dunce hat on your ass Last, and rhe past semester, Ask my sweater: Your girl would probably wear it If I let her Oooh. Equinox+ (EP) Love brings me out of my shell; —I could love you, I I could love you, I Could love you, I Could love you, I love you I love you, I This isn't good for my health; If you don't love me,oh well — (I could love you, I) This is just passing the time, Count my dimes and, I'm wealthy, you build me up Shining, I wake you up Diamond of mine, I love you, I Love you I Do what I want most the time, Cause nothing else matters but Making you mine I, so what I want most the time I can't get out Out of my mind, Cause I love you I love you I, Wasting my time, I could love you but Nevermind Drunk, And I'm stumbling up to my apartment for The 30th time this month, My rent's due tomorrow, but I got it, Woah, I've got just enough Just to keep fuxkin up Getting fucked up And filling my cup Like it's something, But it's nothing, Not really Nothing, Not really Be good Work it out Come on Work it odd Be good Shake it off Work it out Come on Be good, Work it off, Work it out— Come on Be good Work it out Shake it off Come on — We all know There's a monster in there And it wants let out; All man, beware— Yeah We all know There's a monster in her— And, Someone will let it go Oh, Someone let it go Oh, no (oh yeah) Oh, no That's no good That's no good Oh no (Oh yeah) Oh no (Oh yeah!) No, no You just had to let it go You just had to let it go Oh, no! — I need time To rationalize my genius I can't write light this Alt right all white nationalists I can fantazize, right? I could die like this It's a damn good life What fucking time is it, anyway? Right? I can't rationalize, this Fascist rats at The Fashion district Bam, I had it— I had to get right, man I had to get God on my Mantras I fucked up tomorrow, I'm off in Toronto with problems And dogma— Who's dog is this Tied up at the Whole Foods market I tried it, I died in the in I can't idolize idols, man Cry, though, Dip my bicoff in Chiapas coffee All pissed off, Woah It's the wrong morning to wallow in Caught me off guard at the offering Sha, there's no mother here, No other one, You're wrong God, I stopped to cross at all of them, I suffered when I swallowed, Rah, What's wrong? I'm feeling solemn on my sodomist Wishes of This centrifugal —‘swimming with the fishes, Get it? Woah, It's a whole open world of Wizards and witches I wish I could ditch this —the center or attention is this city— That's Alex Tribec, for the record Fuck the TriBeCa fest Rest in Los Angeles Rest in peace Barbra Hah— I've got all of em This is an awful lot of mantras, Stars and Stripes. God; I lost it at the Oscar's, Turn me on, or off I'm all of it Or not What was the cost of this? An awful lot of mantras, stars, And crosswalks, To stop dead in the center of “I'm miserable That's Hollywood for you, God, That's Hollywood, That's where we dropped you off — Have you had enough, yet? How was is? Enough! I'm not even fully up yet! Fuck, It was loveless, All up in ashes, I told ya, That “fun is a friend of the devil “ Burn in sense, Just rub out the sense Have my lips on your hips, Just rotate, As the earth did, In difference, she has Impatience is his imperfection “Eventually,” She says, “I'll see him” He tends to agree, Within reason— Winter breezes and freedom, This season Envy leaves, But she's gonna get even Come in threes, And maybe, We'll see then. Come to the surface, Come up— Don't give up yet Give what you've got; Half a lung, And the other is under— Come on, Come up, Come all— Come, you're walking on water! No wonder they call for you On earth — (We've got a Hot One, for you) Have you ever wondered What's wrong with us all? Fuck— Hollywood's calling, I don't have my phone on me Hollywood called, But your voice Mail is full, What? I finally picked up; The message at the tone, Was in Morse code Billy fit the Playbill, I signed it “usnavi” Yo, You look just like me A sacrifice? A sacrifice, I said, I'm red, I'm jealous like I've never been That's right, blue eyes then Next lifetime Fu— They robbed me of all my art As a hobby Worshipped for All I've got Not a god yet, but Gotta be working on something That's all of it, Gotta be knocking it off, Full of gossip and God, I want love But it's not in the cards, huh New Joan Of Ark, Where's the war That you wanted Not enough talk, But I've done enough walking Gosh, Two thumbs up, All applause from the audience That what you wanted? Yeah! “God I want love but it's not in the cards yet” That's what you wanted? Yeah! That's what you wanted 10.60 2.94 7.75 Strange things happen when you change your vibration to Skrillex. It had been a fucking disasterous 24 hours l; not that I hadn't expected it to be, with Vegas in mind as the shithole capitol of the world, or at least the US, which was indeed turning to shit. Street after street filled with bodies, nearly dead but not—and not a care in the world at all by anyone who could help for the working class, nearly succumbed to poverty, or the homeless, by the millions in numbers rather than the mere thousands the false media portrayed as still an absolute crisis and state of emergency, however downplaying the numbers by millions, as they had already learned that the docile American public could be persuaded or made to move with numbers by the “pandemic”, a fear mongering new world order which had proved that almost no Americans could do math, or anything besides scroll and take selfies. GUESS WHAT DAY IT IS. Oh no. Not Skrillex Day, is it—? ITS SKRILLRX DAY, BIIITCH. Ugh. Fuck Yeah, you lil bitch. I'm spaced out, listing to Skrillex on sunset No shuffle I forgot about this one: It makes my lips numb This bitch dumb I'. Just a number! I don't really give a fuck ! If I had a Benz and blunt— I'd prob'ly roll my windows up Sunni with da big butt Come and get ya duck sucked I would say sunni blū But then I'd probably get some Crips up Ignorant indigenous ninjer Bendit like bender remember Send er a message when you get here Mister Fuck, I hate this. RULES OF TRAVEL ENTER THE MULTIVERSE SEASON 6 - ACT II I almost left my Elfbar in Raton, But I couldn't let go; It just held on. I had to leave my skateboard back at home , But now I'm gone. Now i'm gone Now I'm sick to my stomach, I didn't want this Now I'm so sick to my stomach; I didn't want it And all the non believers, And all the sinners, saints together on a train, wishing to be rich or famous; Freedom, Plain and simple *very scary music* I warned you; No bloodshed in LA. [A single drop of blood hits the pavement with a splash, in a vivid slow motion close up of the gritty Downto Los Angeles sidewalk] FLASHBACK; Have you ever heard of a blood oath? I knew something was wrong with that girl. It's not just that girl; It's this place. People do a lot of things to get by in LA. What is “get by” You're never gonna make it Well, then; I was never going to anyway–so it really doesn't matter. gal·lant adjective 1.(of a person or their behavior) brave; heroic."she had made gallant efforts to pull herself together" Similar: brave courageous valiant valorous bold plucky daring fearless intrepid heroic lionhearted stouthearted doughty mettlesome great-spirited honorable noble manly manful macho dashing daredevil death-or-glory undaunted unflinching unshrinking unafraid dauntless indomitable gutsy spunky ballsy have-a-go venturous Opposite: cowardly 2.(of a man or his behavior) giving special attention and respect to women; chivalrous."a gallant gentleman came over and kissed my hand" Similar: chivalrous gentlemanly courtly courteous respectful polite attentive gracious considerate thoughtful obliging mannerly gentle Opposite: discourteous rude nounARCHAIC /ɡəˈlant,ɡəˈlänt/ a man who pays special attention to women."he launches himself into a gallant's career of amorous intrigue" Similar: suitor wooer admirer worshipper beau sweetheart lover love beloved boyfriend young man man friend escort swain paramour verbARCHAIC /ɡəˈlant,ɡəˈlänt/ (of a man) flirt with (a woman)."Mowbray was gallanting the Polish lady" Gee' Moo had his hands all over me, which made me uncomfortable—but I had sworn solemnly to myself never to ‘tell' on any man again—and neither would I call them out, or make objections to their actions in any way; the age told story had always been ‘her word against mine ‘, making the woman or victim in question appear weak, and of course, untrustworthy—whatever that meant anyway, and not that any of his attempts were hostile, He knew I was openly celibate, and supposedly respected that—however, I just found it best to wholly keep him in the friend zone and keep the notion to myself, as he still seemed to have some kind of hope for something greater between us—and though I did consider him more than a friend, I considered him more like family than anything, his own blurred lines a shadow that had become too great to perhaps any longer be colegues—at least for now—especially that I was fleeing the US once more in complete secrecy—and though there had been some good work between the two of us, I wasn't equalling to his vibration anymore, his music sounded strange and off, and the words that would come to my mind were less easy than pushed or forced, and repetitive in sound and style. I knew that I was leaving, but had refused to tell anybody, especially Gee', who may have raised questions as to where I was going—something that seemed to be good to keep quiet entirely, as even earlier in the day I had tried to give my tour list to Equinox to see if I could bypass upgrading my membership to Destination by giving them a list of dates and cities I would visit and being given access to the visitors list in each city—I was however persuaded into not doing so and keeping my Desrination Stetus, as after attempting to give my home club my list of cities and dates, even against my own instinct and better judgement, the manager dawned a look in his eye that said “just lay low”, and as low as I could lay, I didn't know how long it would last with the onslaught of things I would have to do on my phone and computer over wifi during the long traveling time. Still, I wanted to travel lightly—and perhaps it was Divine intervention itself in the form of God when my $80 Nike backpack broke, leaving me scurrying for a new one that I could afford simply with the remaining balance on my gift card—luckily, I did find one that presumably fit my needs available for pickup, of course, even less high quality than the oversized “training” bag I had purchased just a few months before, not realizing that 32 Liters would be more than enough space, hard to fit under an airplane seat, and Ill-fitting the more petite I would become, or even as my weight fluctuated, just awkward looking in general—and though it was a very attractive bag, I had always thought it to be a little too ‘loud' and ostentatious, though I had become attracted somehow after being unable to return it as I had thought to when I had first ordered it, receiving the bag just before leaving Las Vegas, which I would return to the following day to retrieve the drum machine I had pawned as a matter of absolute survival. The best part about riding the train is… CUT TO: A firey plane crash CUT BACK TO You can't fall out of the sky. (Ya.) SHIA LA— Fuck it. SHIA IS “THE AIR MARSHALL” Ohh, what's this one about? Oh my God. I wasn't writing, and so I must have been in some way dead-I wasn't feeling even a whisp of inspiration, anymore—only annoyance, and slight suffering. The train to chugs I had gone all too quickly, and though I had started chipping away at some projects, there was nothing finished. Though the inhuman vibration and hostile tone of LA was long behind me, something did linger on a bit, perhaps in the form of love or some other feeling or attachment I had formed during my time there. I was, myself, vibrating differently— waving into a motion of the unknown, and not that it mattered what would happen anymore—I hadn't anything to love, or anything to lose, and so everything just seemed a wash entirely. I had never been so dejected in my life. Now I gotta do some Sunnï Blū shit. —Hurry. Hurry what. We gotta go, Oh. Oh Deng. Oh dang. What happened? No, that's just what planet they're from. Dang. That's tricky. New York— Ehrhm. You look good. Hm. You cleaned up. Ya. Nice. Yeah it is. Nice. I said that.. Stop incepting me. No. Stop this please please. Just stop sleeping. Okay. I wish you would die. I just did. WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE. idobntknow. SUNNI BLŪ I DO WHAT I WANT. Fuck, What. That's sunni Blu Okay? She does what she wants. That's not supacree Is it not? No. What happened? S/he chanxed. I'm a “they” –And this is how it all makes sense. What is this fucking place. “East” Ugh. Oh, there's Toronto. That makes sense. Ew. I know right. UGH. LOOK AT ALL THIS POOP. I know, huh. LOOK AT IT. Don't do maps on kx5. Should we “Earth” We should Earth. Ew. What dimension is this? Fucking sick–gross. This isnt Earth. This is Earth! What happened to it. *coughs* It seems some demonic force has taken over. *coughs* Ew. This is fucked up. Should we leave. NO! *coughs* I mean –yeah, but we should at least try to figure out what happened first. *coughs* First?! Or, later–maybe *coughs*coughs*coughs* Yeah, lets leave. FUCK. What, dude, guh I told you no deadmau5 on the train. No you didn't. I should have. I SHOULD HAVE KILLED THAT THING WHEN I SAW IT. How would you do that? THE DEADMAUS Go to sleep. K. Did you guys “Earth” Uh, yeah, but– Was it awesome? Uhm, no. No, dude. Why, what happened? We don't know. It was bad. “Adventure is allowing the unexpected to happen to you. Exploration is experiencing what you have not experienced before.” — Richard Aldington Schenectady Ahahaha Poughkeepsie lol what. All these are places. Yeah, I know. People live in these places . Oh My God. What. Where's Whole Foods? You need Jesus. Where's he at? JESUS CHRIST Timmy, this party is lit. TIMMY TURNER Yeah, thanks bro. JESUS CHRIST I love you. TIMMY TURNER (eaving) K that's weird. IT DOESN”T. What . MAKE ANY SENSE. I simulated this experience, in the construct of time In the confines of time and space—just to have this moment. Uh. Train—-To Deadmau5. [BLŪ Exercises Furiously] Train—To Deadmau5. [BLŪ boards the train hurriedly] SOMETIMES— I'm all wrapped up; Wrapped up in your love –But you never come for me I'm all wrapped up in your love Wonder what comes of it You never come for me I'm all wrapped up in your love; A half smile on my face; (l love you) Always thinking of you What else can I do, but To fee stupid Can't get over you, but As the sun comes up, I wander off, Remember us I guess it's a long walk Guess i'll just fall out of it About time… About that– I'm all wrapped up, yeah Wrapped up in your love Sonny Moore had inspired some of the greatest thing i had ever written in my time; and all with just one look–two eyes, and no words at all, began an infinite unravelling of words from God's hands and into my minds eye. Farro. …Your Majesty. I need help. Don't burden me with your woes. I beg your pardon? No, don't beg. LINDSAY LOHAN is sleeping FACE DOWN on the couch in SunnÏ Blū's Studio Lindsay, wake up. Mmfh. [Does not wake up. At all.] Lindsay. Mmf. Tequila. [Suddenly very awake, in fact; she has suddenly perked up with an amazing glow. ] *very serious knocks on the door* Oh shit. [suddenly, more drunk again] –oh shit. *three more knocks* Where's the tequila? SUNNÏ Ah, shit. Is that your lawyer, or your manager? Shit, maybe both. SUNNI. OPEN THE DOOR . –Might even be my agent, too. OPEN THE GODDAMN DOOR. (Both, in cheesy unison, tiny rock concert} I CHIMED IN WITH A HAVENT YOU PEOPLE EVER HEARD OF [Sunni opens the door. No, it's “closing the door– not “open the door” “The Goddamn door.” Right, Goddamit. –where's the tequila. Where it is– [Sunni points in a wayward direction; Lindsay stumbles morning-aftery into the booth. Eww–”morning aftery” Not like that. *addendum* [That Is, just to say that this scene takes place in the afterdays haze of a very –Very Holy Shit , God. What. You rule. [Lindsay enters the booth and uncaps a bottle of tequila so effing fancy, it hurts to look at.] So fucking fancy. Was that lindsay lohan? Yeah it is. It's still lindsay logan, Morgen– –It's ‘Morgan” –She's just over there now. Not “was” How are you even friends. FLASHBACK SUNNI BLU sup, Lindsay Lohan! LINDSAY LOHAN sup. Who are you? SUNNI BLU I'm Sunni Blū LINDSAY LOHAN LIKE—the rapper. SUNNI BLU Not “like”. Am. LINDSAY LOHAN tight. SUNNI BLU. Sup. LINDSAY LOHAN Sup. SUNNI BLU I heard you like to party. LINDSAY LOHAN I like to party. SUNNI BLU —and, you DJ. LINDSAY LOHAN Oh yeah, huh! I was a DJ once. SUNNI BLU so was I. CUT BACK TO: SUNNI BLU now we're besties. I might be trapped in this hell, here, I figure But it's over when it's over, I cannot live here, Or anywhere Here's my liver; All he needed was a sliver, the silver lizard But I have him the whole thing The whole thing The whole thing I swallowed the whole world whole, once And now it all happens, Over and over; A simple digestion And I've got no questions left No intuition, either No black characters, No brown eyes; I hate my life I hate my life Blonde is good, And redheads are nice; I hate my life I hate my life ‘Rich white peope are so fucking nasty sometimes' I had the best and the worst of it at Equinox, and while I considered it a miracle that I had even come so far, as to consider luxury fitness a priority and absolute necessity, even forgoing eating what I wanted or other comforts in paying my gym dues, now I had given myself what I thought to be the opportunity of a lifetime—it was on my bucket list, at least last time I checked, to visit Equinox in every city the chain had locations—and having put all my time and every fiber of my being into just ‘staying afloat', my idea of ‘living a little' was to workout as much as possible, while I still could—-as money was well beyond running dry just out or the sheer expense of traveling—or now—“touring”, as I would consider it, using my music as a means of not appearing homeless and destitute, and using my podcast as a medium for its promotion—though, I still didn't know where my listeners or downloads were coming from, and my Spotify, the last I had checked, had “0 monthly listeners” it was beginning again to be clear how much the United States hated black people, for whatever reason— and how privelege and power had overtaken even the best people's better senses. Humanity was slipping away—and so was I; the best I could do was to make my body as comfortable to live in as possible, and for whatever reason, I was drawn to Equinox to do so. Anandar or someone like her had once said, the key to being rich, is to spend money like you're rich, no matter the amount of money you had—knowing that in doing so, your money would multiply tenfold. I had never done so before, but between Equinox and my food stamps being stolen, the amount of money I had been draining myself of did indeed make me feel and look as if I had endless disposable income—and perhaps I did somehow—somewhere in the near future , if I could just convince myself I really was as special as my writing made me seem, or feel, simply reading it myself, or having chosen a carefully select few to read it. I was, indeed, a genius: the problem was, geniuses and writers particularly up to then had been notoriously famous for dying alone, penniless and undiscovered, and very often—by our own hands. Eleven since, I left Hell, and been in Heaven since I'm heaven sent I burn incense The taste of bile filled my mouth and sat on the back of my tongue as I tried to avoid the inevitability of swallowing it; it had all been worth it—the train to Hollywood had not altogether been as horrible as it usually was on The Expo—and as I rode 9 stops exactly into my old stomping grounds, I exited the Hollywood and Vine metro station to a nostalgic and familiar territory; this is where my Hollywood story had started, and had apparently yet to end, as I swept the Walk of Fame in a way I supposed I never had, the shadow of my old self following not behind, but directly overhead; I was, indeed, just a ghost. I ended up at Amoeba Music, hair dripping wet, and, though I had yet to eat in a couple of days, not feeling as if I had quite done a proper workout, rushed in the final hour to Hollywood, as the downtown location had been closed; Fine by me, as I was over and done with the downtown atmosphere altogether, and though I wasn't a particular fan of the new Amoeba Music location, I had felt a close calling to go to Hollywood that day, even before I knew I would have to—and ending up there anyway seemed to be another synchronicity indeed. ‘Spend it on something you love.' The voice had said, perhaps just my own—but not sounding anything at all like my own internal dialogue. No, this voice seemed entirely more divine, and so I took it as such, and was careful not to spend any of the carefully collected and specially marked dollar bills on anything I absolutely didn't love—and though I was terrified of the overall outcome of everything—now jobless, or rather, without secured income—my job having become myself in the process of writing, making music, and improving my physique to its peak performance and physical fitness, I had been careful not to spend any money at all on anything I absolutely didn't need. However, I did need music after all, and loved it more than anything, besides my own son—who did at least ask about me, after all, according to my estranged ex, who I had shielded myself from entirely, changing my name, my number, and my location for my own safety and peace of mind, rather than for aesthetic reasons, as anyone might have thought. But really, no one might have thought at all, as I was careful to leave everyone and everything behind that had come with my birth name, besides my father, my son, and my beloved Auntie, who I still allowed to call me “Cree”, though I had at least hinted at at an aycronym of my new name, giving her my address in case of emergency, or any other reason. But, I hadn't enough money to pay my mailbox, and so even that was irrelevant, as everything was. Look: the tinier you are—the bigger my dick seems. I get it. So be tiny. I like cereal. I like cake. I like cookies. I like shakes. So you know what. What. That's okay. REAPER Give me my scythe, Billie. BILLIE ELLISH It's a miniature scythe. REAPER Yeah—my—miniature scythe. BILLIE ELLISH It's mine now. REAPER No, it's not— BILLIE ELLISH But—you gave it to me. REAPER It came with the job. BILLIE ELLISH The job sucked! REAPER I know that! I'm just mildly concerned that LAPD squad cars are still 1995 crown Vic's. Like: how do you even catch sometime in a mazzerati? The guy who drives a mazzeratti's like: hah. You don't. You know what it is You know what it is— You know what it is That's the business Comin in hot, like a chicken wing This ain't Toy Story—got no friend in me, You feelin me? Cold as Minnesota, I'm the ice queen Nice bling— Hollywood should buy this bitch a wedding ring Amohetemime Trick, you're a half, I'm the whole thing Whole Foods market, gotta own me No mink coat, I'm a vegan, Hocus Pocus, I'm three witches Okay, from the top Hello? This is Hollywood calling; We want the festival project We just wrote up the contract Come get your deposit: You're nominated for an Oscar Your Star On The Walk looks Awesome it's On Us Yeah? That's what's up I'll come up I'll come up I'll come up Say what's up That's my shite; I'm rep in the festival project Ya'll like “what's that?” I'll tel you all about it,—that's Coming up next Oh yeah, Oh yeah Tune in I'm On Welcome to your Hollywood life The good life Good life Welcome to the Hollywood life That's right That's right Welcome to your Hollywood life The good life Good life Welcome to the Hollywood life That's right That's right They call me young Hollywood, They robbed me good in Santa Monica And I so I got no address yet; But I'm coming up like one direction I just checked my reflection like: Mirror mirror on the wall I gotta go Hollywood's callin And I don't do this often Only when o bless the red carpet Comin in hot, like a chicken wing Call me Toy Story— got a friend in me, You feelin me? On the big screen livin out my dreams, I wrote my scenes, the Hollywood life: I neee I ride by On a tomeline I write, I like My nice things. The life I lead, Is ritghteous, I defy my means Applied IT, I might be AI, Fine my me; Cause all I see Is light I like, And I'm liking my Hollywood life, I think. Nice bling— Hollywood should buy this bitch a wedding ring Amohetemime Trick, you're a half, I'm the whole thing Whole Foods market, gotta own me No mink coat, I'm a vegan, Hocus Pocus, I'm three witches It's just some Hollywood shit Isn't it fabulous This is some Hollywood shiy Isn't it fabulous Comin in hot, like a chicken wing This ain't Toy Story—got no friend in me, You feelin me? Cold as Minnesota, I'm the ice queen Nice bling— Hollywood should buy this bitch a wedding ring Amohetemime Trick, you're a half, I'm the whole thing Whole Foods market, gotta own me No mink coat, I'm a vegan, Hocus Pocus, I'm three witches You know what it is You know what it is— You know what it is That's the business One door close. Then another door opens So sick flow, go home with a cold then Woah, Hoe—cold like some snow boots Pants so big, I can parachutes Hoes look fake, like a blow up doll Harlem shake, i'm bout to blow up ya'll We think we may have found your home planet. Oh, you think? Look at this'd [DUFF views the distant soarkling object through the telescope lens, squinting.] Is that it?! I don't know… [Suddenly, as DIFF begins to focus on the planet; a high pitched ring only DUFF seems to hear strikes her away from the telescope, writhing in pain.] Woah, what happened?! Are you okay?! Is she okay?! [DUFF falls into a coma] What, no way. WhT is this. It's a show. WhTs it called. Idk. Shut up. You shut up. I'm watching —shhh! Call the doctor! DUFF! What's your name again? …Are you serious? No, I'm kidding. (No, I actually forgot what I named this character) I think it's “Joel” I doubt that. What was it. Idk, moving on. …did you forget? Yeah, I forgot. It's okay! Yeah, I guess. We found you!! Yeah. Sorry we destroyed the planet— —only like half. It's totally destroyed. It was like that before you guys landed. —? Just Trust me. Why does it look like somebody turned you upside down? I was “paralyzed” What's that mean? It happens here. That sounds horrible. This place sucks. It's really far. Girl. Hm. Look at these motherfuckets* Ooh, keep that. Wow. Huh. The entire reason for turning on my phone was to write about that experience. Which experience? I don't know, I've had like ten experiences since I walked into that door—and I wanted to write about all of them. Uh huh. But I lost it. You lost it? Not all of it. Well. Some of it. Which ones did you keep? The Good ones Oh shit, it's almost coming back to me Uh. First of all. —French people in love are cute. What. That shit is literally the cutest thing ever. French people—in love—speaking French. That shit is sexy Did you see his eyes? That's okay, Cree— I ‘That'll be enough. Ugh. Now, class— It's time for a sonnet, or synonym Senators, gentlemen— Get in your rhythm and trip to this; Cause it's about to get lit again: Call me illiterate, ignorant, negligent; Never irrelevant, disheveled or leveled since, This entrance is Heaven sent Evidence of everlasting natural intelligence That'll do. Okay. Let's break fast, I make gas, And bake snacks; I lay facts I slay slacks I'm maybacks You may ask Questions about the lesson, With a raised hand —okay class? . . . Oh— You forgot it was a lesson? Let me reflect and inspect, Resurrect the message just a bit— I'm the profession, If I ask, They answer “Yessir” I guess, er Thet yur just a jester Dunce hat on your ass Last, and rhe past semester, Ask my sweater: Your girl would probably wear it If I let her Oooh. Equinox+ (EP) Love brings me out of my shell; —I could love you, I I could love you, I Could love you, I Could love you, I love you I love you, I This isn't good for my health; If you don't love me,oh well — (I could love you, I) This is just passing the time, Count my dimes and, I'm wealthy, you build me up Shining, I wake you up Diamond of mine, I love you, I Love you I Do what I want most the time, Cause nothing else matters but Making you mine I, so what I want most the time I can't get out Out of my mind, Cause I love you I love you I, Wasting my time, I could love you but Nevermind Drunk, And I'm stumbling up to my apartment for The 30th time this month, My rent's due tomorrow, but I got it, Woah, I've got just enough Just to keep fuxkin up Getting fucked up And filling my cup Like it's something, But it's nothing, Not really Nothing, Not really Be good Work it out Come on Work it odd Be good Shake it off Work it out Come on Be good, Work it off, Work it out— Come on Be good Work it out Shake it off Come on — We all know There's a monster in there And it wants let out; All man, beware— Yeah We all know There's a monster in her— And, Someone will let it go Oh, Someone let it go Oh, no (oh yeah) Oh, no That's no good That's no good Oh no (Oh yeah) Oh no (Oh yeah!) No, no You just had to let it go You just had to let it go Oh, no! — I need time To rationalize my genius I can't write light this Alt right all white nationalists I can fantazize, right? I could die like this It's a damn good life What fucking time is it, anyway? Right? I can't rationalize, this Fascist rats at The Fashion district Bam, I had it— I had to get right, man I had to get God on my Mantras I fucked up tomorrow, I'm off in Toronto with problems And dogma— Who's dog is this Tied up at the Whole Foods market I tried it, I died in the in I can't idolize idols, man Cry, though, Dip my bicoff in Chiapas coffee All pissed off, Woah It's the wrong morning to wallow in Caught me off guard at the offering Sha, there's no mother here, No other one, You're wrong God, I stopped to cross at all of them, I suffered when I swallowed, Rah, What's wrong? I'm feeling solemn on my sodomist Wishes of This centrifugal —‘swimming with the fishes, Get it? Woah, It's a whole open world of Wizards and witches I wish I could ditch this —the center or attention is this city— That's Alex Tribec, for the record Fuck the TriBeCa fest Rest in Los Angeles Rest in peace Barbra Hah— I've got all of em This is an awful lot of mantras, Stars and Stripes. God; I lost it at the Oscar's, Turn me on, or off I'm all of it Or not What was the cost of this? An awful lot of mantras, stars, And crosswalks, To stop dead in the center of “I'm miserable That's Hollywood for you, God, That's Hollywood, That's where we dropped you off — Have you had enough, yet? How was is? Enough! I'm not even fully up yet! Fuck, It was loveless, All up in ashes, I told ya, That “fun is a friend of the devil “ Burn in sense, Just rub out the sense Have my lips on your hips, Just rotate, As the earth did, In difference, she has Impatience is his imperfection “Eventually,” She says, “I'll see him” He tends to agree, Within reason— Winter breezes and freedom, This season Envy leaves, But she's gonna get even Come in threes, And maybe, We'll see then. Come to the surface, Come up— Don't give up yet Give what you've got; Half a lung, And the other is under— Come on, Come up, Come all— Come, you're walking on water! No wonder they call for you On earth — (We've got a Hot One, for you) Have you ever wondered What's wrong with us all? Fuck— Hollywood's calling, I don't have my phone on me Hollywood called, But your voice Mail is full, What? I finally picked up; The message at the tone, Was in Morse code Billy fit the Playbill, I signed it “usnavi” Yo, You look just like me A sacrifice? A sacrifice, I said, I'm red, I'm jealous like I've never been That's right, blue eyes then Next lifetime Fu— They robbed me of all my art As a hobby Worshipped for All I've got Not a god yet, but Gotta be working on something That's all of it, Gotta be knocking it off, Full of gossip and God, I want love But it's not in the cards, huh New Joan Of Ark, Where's the war That you wanted Not enough talk, But I've done enough walking Gosh, Two thumbs up, All applause from the audience That what you wanted? Yeah! “God I want love but it's not in the cards yet” That's what you wanted? Yeah! That's what you wanted 10.60 2.94 7.75 Strange things happen when you change your vibration to Skrillex. It had been a fucking disasterous 24 hours l; not that I hadn't expected it to be, with Vegas in mind as the shithole capitol of the world, or at least the US, which was indeed turning to shit. Street after street filled with bodies, nearly dead but not—and not a care in the world at all by anyone who could help for the working class, nearly succumbed to poverty, or the homeless, by the millions in numbers rather than the mere thousands the false media portrayed as still an absolute crisis and state of emergency, however downplaying the numbers by millions, as they had already learned that the docile American public could be persuaded or made to move with numbers by the “pandemic”, a fear mongering new world order which had proved that almost no Americans could do math, or anything besides scroll and take selfies. GUESS WHAT DAY IT IS. Oh no. Not Skrillex Day, is it—? ITS SKRILLRX DAY, BIIITCH. Ugh. Fuck Yeah, you lil bitch. I'm spaced out, listing to Skrillex on sunset No shuffle I forgot about this one: It makes my lips numb This bitch dumb I'. Just a number! I don't really give a fuck ! If I had a Benz and blunt— I'd prob'ly roll my windows up Sunni with da big butt Come and get ya duck sucked I would say sunni blū But then I'd probably get some Crips up Ignorant indigenous ninjer Bendit like bender remember Send er a message when you get here Mister Fuck, I hate this. RULES OF TRAVEL Always leave things better than you found it. Well, I feel better, Thanks , God. Yep, no problem. Okay. *lays down momentarily* [half beat] Back to Work. [Suddenly Getting Up] OkayZ. Do ya'll remember—the time on the train. “ damn, I shoulda saw that movie with Carmella. This is hilarious. Watch. Agh, God. What is it. Now it's the hard part; I gotta do some technical shit. Mm. Like what: Put it on the net. don't. Uh. Too late, bitch. ::||pause. is this train gonna go. Is it. Innit. K. [train starts moving] Hm. I lost the thought, In awe of it all— The saga I wrote, and The words that would fall, All around me; The words that I saw, And the words that had found me The words that I was, And could not be without being Unh. That'll do. Lol what is up with this train. CONDUCTOR. Yo, it's me. Who the fuxk is this. What is this operation. Lol. Damn, what . 3D has its perks This is way beyond 3D. I know. bitch. **shh, don't cuss. What. It's for the kidsZ No, it isn't. It's for the kiddzzz. What. No. Yes: NoS For thee kids. So I turn 30 and my body keeps reminding me that I'm a baby machines Okay: What. Ew, that's gross. Lol. Only cause she's 30. What. Agism: it's real. EVERYTHING IS REAL. What. Uh. RAIL. —WHAt— —RAIL— Damn. … Zzz … SUPACREEA* is seated on the LOUNGE car in COACH. Don't capitalize coach. YOU're IN COAH. Oh hell yeah. What's in there. Not you. Okay, I'll be SUPACREE A, And you'll be SUPACREE B. Okay. You're not gonna disagree to being ‘B' instead of A, like me? I am you. I don't care. Fine. . . . I want to be SUPACREE B No take backs. SUPACREE A and SUOACREE B are DUPLICATES. DAMN, YOU DUPLICATED? Not on purpose! DAMN. This goes beyond shapeshiftig. I didn't know you could do that. I could do that. Oh. ‘Oh' Ugh I got this feeling in my soul— —I got this stone inside my palm— I got this pulling in my heart— —i feel like you could be the one; But you're gone, now Gone, gone, gone Gone gone, gone Gone, gone, gone Gone, gone, gone —and when there's no where left to run; —and there's no need to wander off— —and there is no one left to love— I guess I'll see you when you're gone Gone, gone, gone Gone gone, gone Gone, gone, gone Gone, gone, gone I'm gonna go ahead and take this on. Oh, God, No! —not because I want to; But why, then?! Because I gotta. You came a long way, kid. Where am I now? Oh, you're still nowhere. ITS NO FAIR. Life isn't fair, Amanda. But MoooooOO0000M. NO. BUT MO— NO—no SUPACREE show tonight! But— I told you, clean your room. I don't know what I am. You're a fairy. Pretty scary fairy. It'll do, though. WANDA. NO. COME, ON, WANDA NO. WANDA, COME ON. WAKANDA FOR— No, no black Panther. What, why not? That movie's racist. Wha-?! CUT TO: I didn't want to do it this way, kid. Who are you? The crypt keeper. Oh. Yeah. Am I Dead? Yeah. Wow. Yeah. Hm. Yep. Can I see your scythe? You wanna see? Yeah, it's nice— *SCYLCE!* Lol. AOh my god AAAAHHHHHJH—Drake BELL. Don't worry, he's an ansolary character. Wat. Kinda. Damn. Season 6 is on FIRE THE HOLLYWOOD PEOLPLE ahem. Hollywood is on fire. SUPACREE WHELP. I'm out. No, don't go. SKRILLEX DONT LEAVE ME LIKE THIS. SONNY Fuck it, I'm in Korea. Or Thailand, or whatever. Something like that. “Something like that.” Ahem. Where's Dillon Francis. LITERALLY FUCKING EVERYONE FUCK DILLON FRANCIS. Damn. YeH, that. Well, God forbid anything actually happens to that guy. GOD I don't forbid anything. It's a free world. AHAHAHAHHAHA AHAHAHAHAHJAHAHJJA AHAHAHHA STOP. What. Go back. WhT. For. Just. Go back. For what. I thought I saw somethings Something like what. Something. Just. Ugh. JUST REWIND. SUPACREE has replaced the remote with THE SYNETHESIA PANEL MINI *life itself rewinds

[The Festival Project Presents: {ENTER THE MULTIVERSE} THE LEGEND OF… THE INFINITE SKRILLIFILES GERALD'S WORLD & ASCENSION DEATHWISH LEGENDS THE INSOMNIAC {ENTER THE MULTIVERSE} SEASON 6 - ACT II - PART II I almost left my Elfbar in Raton, But I couldn't let go; It just held on. I had to leave my skateboard back at home , But now I'm gone. Now i'm gone Now I'm sick to my stomach, I didn't want this Now I'm so sick to my stomach; I didn't want it And all the non believers, And all the sinners, saints together on a train, wishing to be rich or famous; Freedom, Plain and simple *very scary music* I warned you; No bloodshed in LA. [A single drop of blood hits the pavement with a splash, in a vivid slow motion close up of the gritty Downtown Los Angeles sidewalk] FLASHBACK; Have you ever heard of a blood oath? I knew something was wrong with that girl. It's not just that girl; It's this place. People do a lot of things to get by in LA. What is “get by” You're never gonna make it. Well, then; I was never going to anyway–so it really doesn't matter. “The Golden Girl” gal·lant adjective 1.(of a person or their behavior) brave; heroic."she had made gallant efforts to pull herself together" Similar: brave courageous valiant valorous bold plucky daring fearless intrepid heroic lionhearted stouthearted doughty mettlesome great-spirited honorable noble manly manful macho dashing daredevil death-or-glory undaunted unflinching unshrinking unafraid dauntless indomitable gutsy spunky ballsy have-a-go venturous Opposite: cowardly 2.(of a man or his behavior) giving special attention and respect to women; chivalrous."a gallant gentleman came over and kissed my hand" Similar: chivalrous gentlemanly courtly courteous respectful polite attentive gracious considerate thoughtful obliging mannerly gentle Opposite: discourteous rude nounARCHAIC /ɡəˈlant,ɡəˈlänt/ a man who pays special attention to women."he launches himself into a gallant's career of amorous intrigue" Similar: suitor wooer admirer worshipper beau sweetheart lover love beloved boyfriend young man man friend escort swain paramour verbARCHAIC /ɡəˈlant,ɡəˈlänt/ (of a man) flirt with (a woman)."Mowbray was gallanting the Polish lady" Gee' Mo had his hands all over me, which made me uncomfortable—but I had sworn solemnly to myself never to ‘tell' on any man again—and neither would I call them out, or make objections to their actions in any way; the age told story had always been ‘her word against mine ‘, making the woman or victim in question appear weak, and of course, untrustworthy—whatever that meant anyway, and not that any of his attempts were hostile, He knew I was openly celibate, and supposedly respected that—however, I just found it best to wholly keep him in the friend zone and keep the notion to myself, as he still seemed to have some kind of hope for something greater between us—and though I did consider him more than a friend, I considered him more like family than anything, his own blurred lines a shadow that had become too great to perhaps any longer be colegues—at least for now—especially that I was fleeing the US once more in complete secrecy—and though there had been some good work between the two of us, I wasn't equalling to his vibration anymore, his music sounded strange and off, and the words that would come to my mind were less easy than pushed or forced, and repetitive in sound and style. I knew that I was leaving, but had refused to tell anybody, especially Gee', who may have raised questions as to where I was going—something that seemed to be good to keep quiet entirely, as even earlier in the day I had tried to give my tour list to Equinox to see if I could bypass upgrading my membership to Destination by giving them a list of dates and cities I would visit and being given access to the visitors list in each city—I was however persuaded into not doing so and keeping my Desrination Stetus, as after attempting to give my home club my list of cities and dates, even against my own instinct and better judgement, the manager dawned a look in his eye that said “just lay low”, and as low as I could lay, I didn't know how long it would last with the onslaught of things I would have to do on my phone and computer over wifi during the long traveling time. Still, I wanted to travel lightly—and perhaps it was Divine intervention itself in the form of God when my $80 Nike backpack broke, leaving me scurrying for a new one that I could afford simply with the remaining balance on my gift card—luckily, I did find one that presumably fit my needs available for pickup, of course, even less high quality than the oversized “training” bag I had purchased just a few months before, not realizing that 32 Liters would be more than enough space, hard to fit under an airplane seat, and Ill-fitting the more petite I would become, or even as my weight fluctuated, just awkward looking in general—and though it was a very attractive bag, I had always thought it to be a little too ‘loud' and ostentatious, though I had become attracted somehow after being unable to return it as I had thought to when I had first ordered it, receiving the bag just before leaving Las Vegas, which I would return to the following day to retrieve the drum machine I had pawned as a matter of absolute survival. INT. TRAIN. WHENEVER. The best part about riding the train is… CUT TO: A FIREY PLANE CRASH CUT BACK TO: You can't fall out of the sky. (Ya.) SHIA LA— Fuck it. SHIA LABEOUF IS: “THE AIR MARSHALL” Ohh, what's this one about? Oh my God. I wasn't writing, and so I must have been in some way dead-I wasn't feeling even a whisp of inspiration, anymore—only annoyance, and slight suffering. The train ride had gone all too quickly, and though I had started chipping away at some projects, there was nothing finished. Though the inhuman vibration and hostile tone of LA was long behind me, something did linger on a bit, perhaps in the form of love or some other feeling or attachment I had formed during my time there. I was, myself, vibrating differently— waving into a motion of the unknown, and not that it mattered what would happen anymore—I hadn't anything to love, or anything to lose, and so everything just seemed a wash entirely. I had never been so dejected in my life. Now I gotta do some Sunnï Blū shit. —Hurry. Hurry what. We gotta go, Oh. Oh Deng. Oh dang. What happened? No, that's just what planet they're from. Dang. That's tricky. New York— Ehrhm. You look good. Hm. You cleaned up. Ya. Nice. Yeah it is. Nice. I said that.. Stop incepting me. No. Stop this please. Just stop sleeping. Okay. I wish you would die. I just did. WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE. idobntknow. SUNNI BLŪ I DO WHAT I WANT. Fuck, What. That's Sunnï Blu Okay? She does what she wants. That's not SUPACREE. Is it not? No. What happened? S/he chanxed. I'm a “they” –And this is how it all makes sense. What is this fucking place. “East” Ugh. Oh, there's Toronto. That makes sense. Ew. I know right. UGH. LOOK AT ALL THIS POOP. I know, huh. LOOK AT IT. Don't do maps on kx5. Should we “Earth” We should Earth. Ew. What dimension is this? Fucking sick–gross. This isnt Earth. This is Earth! What happened to it. *coughs* It seems some demonic force has taken over. *coughs* Ew. This is fucked up. Should we leave. NO! *coughs* I mean –yeah, but we should at least try to figure out what happened first. *coughs* First?! Or, later–maybe *coughs*coughs*coughs* Yeah, lets leave. FUCK. What, dude, guh. I told you no deadmau5 on the train. No you didn't. I should have. I SHOULD HAVE KILLED THAT THING WHEN I SAW IT. How would you do that? THE DEADMAUS Go to sleep. K. Did you guys “Earth” Uh, yeah, but– Was it awesome? Uhm, no. No, dude. Why, what happened? We don't know. It was bad. “Adventure is allowing the unexpected to happen to you. Exploration is experiencing what you have not experienced before.” — Richard Aldington Schenectady Ahahaha Poughkeepsie lol what. All these are places. Yeah, I know. People live in these places . Oh My God. What. Where's Whole Foods? You need Jesus. Where's he at? JESUS CHRIST Timmy, this party is lit. TIMMY TURNER Yeah, thanks bro. JESUS CHRIST I love you. TIMMY TURNER (Leaving) K that's weird. IT DOESN'T What . MAKE ANY SENSE. I simulated this experience, in the construct of time In the confines of space—just to have this moment. Uh. Train—-To Deadmau5. [BLŪ Exercises Furiously] Train—To Deadmau5. [BLŪ boards the train hurriedly] SOMETIMES— UGH. I'm all wrapped up; Wrapped up in your love –But you never come for me I'm all wrapped up in your love Wonder what comes of it You never come for me I'm all wrapped up in your love; A half smile on my face; (l love you) Always thinking of you What else can I do, but To fee stupid Can't get over you, but As the sun comes up, I wander off, Remember us I guess it's a long walk Guess i'll just fall out of it About time… About that– I'm all wrapped up, yeah Wrapped up in your love Sonny Moore had inspired some of the greatest things i had ever written in my time; and all with just one look–two eyes, and no words at all, began an infinite unravelling of words from God's hands and into my minds eye. ASCENSION Rise of Ascencia Farro. …Your Majesty. I need help. Don't burden me with your woes. I beg your pardon? No, don't beg. THE SUITE LIFE OF SUNNÏ BLŪ LINDSAY LOHAN is sleeping FACE DOWN on the couch in SunnÏ Blū's Studio Lindsay, wake up. Mmfh. [Does not wake up. At all.] Lindsay. Mmf. Tequila. [Suddenly very awake, in fact; she has suddenly perked up with an amazing glow. ] *very serious knocks on the door* Oh shit. [suddenly, more drunk again] –oh shit. *three more knocks* Where's the tequila? SUNNÏ Ah, shit. Is that your lawyer, or your manager? Shit, maybe both. SUNNI. OPEN THE DOOR . –Might even be my agent, too. OPEN THE GODDAMN DOOR. (Both, in cheesy unison, tiny rock concert} I CHIMED IN WITH A HAVENT YOU PEOPLE EVER HEARD OF— [Sunni opens the door.] No, it's “closing the door– not “open the door” “The Goddamn door.” Right, Goddamit. –where's the tequila. Where it is– [Sunni points in a wayward direction; Lindsay stumbles morning-aftery into the booth. Eww–”morning aftery” Not like that. *addendum* [That Is, just to say that this scene takes place in the afterdays haze of a very –Very Holy Shit , God. What. You rule. [Lindsay enters the booth and uncaps a bottle of tequila so effing fancy, it hurts to look at.] So fucking fancy. Was that lindsay lohan? Yeah it is. It's still Linsday Lohan, Morgen– –It's ‘Morgan”; –She's just over there now. Not “was”. Still is Lindsay Lohan. Presently. How are you even friends. FLASHBACK SUNNI BLU sup, Lindsay Lohan! LINDSAY LOHAN sup. Who are you? SUNNI BLU I'm Sunni Blū. LINDSAY LOHAN LIKE—the rapper?! SUNNI BLU Not “like”. Am. LINDSAY LOHAN tight. SUNNI BLU. Sup. LINDSAY LOHAN Sup. SUNNI BLU I heard you like to party. LINDSAY LOHAN I like to party. SUNNI BLU —and, you DJ. LINDSAY LOHAN Oh yeah, huh! I was a DJ once. SUNNI BLU so was I. CUT BACK TO: SUNNI BLU now we're besties. I might be trapped in this hell, here, I figure But it's over when it's over, I cannot live here, Or anywhere Here's my liver; All he needed was a sliver, the silver lizard But I gave him the whole thing The whole thing The whole thing I swallowed the whole world whole, once And now it all happens, Over and over; A simple digestion And I've got no questions left No intuition, either No black characters, No brown eyes; I hate my life I hate my life Blonde is good, And redheads are nice; I hate my life I hate my life ‘Rich white peope are so fucking nasty sometimes' I had the best and the worst of it at Equinox, and while I considered it a miracle that I had even come so far, as to consider luxury fitness a priority and absolute necessity, even forgoing eating what I wanted or other comforts in paying my gym dues, now I had given myself what I thought to be the opportunity of a lifetime—it was on my bucket list, at least last time I checked, to visit Equinox in every city the chain had locations—and having put all my time and every fiber of my being into just ‘staying afloat', my idea of ‘living a little' was to workout as much as possible, while I still could—-as money was well beyond running dry just out or the sheer expense of traveling—or now—“touring”, as I would consider it, using my music as a means of not appearing homeless and destitute, and using my podcast as a medium for its promotion—though, I still didn't know where my listeners or downloads were coming from, and my Spotify, the last I had checked, had “0 monthly listeners” it was beginning again to be clear how much the United States hated black people, for whatever reason— and how privelege and power had overtaken even the best people's better senses. Humanity was slipping away—and so was I; the best I could do was to make my body as comfortable to live in as possible, and for whatever reason, I was drawn to Equinox to do so. Anandar or someone like her had once said, the key to being rich, is to spend money like you're rich, no matter the amount of money you had—knowing that in doing so, your money would multiply tenfold. I had never done so before, but between Equinox and my food stamps being stolen, the amount of money I had been draining myself of did indeed make me feel and look as if I had endless disposable income—and perhaps I did somehow—somewhere in the near future , if I could just convince myself I really was as special as my writing made me seem, or feel, simply reading it myself, or having chosen a carefully select few to read it. I was, indeed, a genius: the problem was, geniuses and writers particularly up to then had been notoriously famous for dying alone, penniless and undiscovered, and very often—by our own hands. Eleven since, I left Hell, and been in Heaven since I'm heaven sent I burn incense —A CROSS DIMENSIONAL PARALLEL REALITY. The taste of bile filled my mouth and sat on the back of my tongue as I tried to avoid the inevitability of swallowing it; it had all been worth it—the train to Hollywood had not altogether been as horrible as it usually was on The Expo—and as I rode 9 stops exactly into my old stomping grounds, I exited the Hollywood and Vine metro station to a nostalgic and familiar territory; this is where my Hollywood story had started, and had apparently yet to end, as I swept the Walk of Fame in a way I supposed I never had, the shadow of my old self following not behind, but directly overhead; I was, indeed, just a ghost. I ended up at Amoeba Music, hair dripping wet, and, though I had yet to eat in a couple of days, not feeling as if I had quite done a proper workout, rushed in the final hour to Hollywood, as the downtown location had been closed; Fine by me, as I was over and done with the downtown atmosphere altogether, and though I wasn't a particular fan of the new Amoeba Music location, I had felt a close calling to go to Hollywood that day, even before I knew I would have to—and ending up there anyway seemed to be another synchronicity indeed. ‘Spend it on something you love.' The voice had said, perhaps just my own—but not sounding anything at all like my own internal dialogue. No, this voice seemed entirely more divine, and so I took it as such, and was careful not to spend any of the carefully collected and specially marked dollar bills on anything I absolutely didn't love—and though I was terrified of the overall outcome of everything—now jobless, or rather, without secured income—my job having become myself in the process of writing, making music, and improving my physique to its peak performance and physical fitness, I had been careful not to spend any money at all on anything I absolutely didn't need. However, I did need music after all, and loved it more than anything, besides my own son—who did at least ask about me, after all, according to my estranged ex, who I had shielded myself from entirely, changing my name, my number, and my location for my own safety and peace of mind, rather than for aesthetic reasons, as anyone might have thought. But really, no one might have thought at all, as I was careful to leave everyone and everything behind that had come with my birth name, besides my father, my son, and my beloved Auntie, who I still allowed to call me “Cree”, though I had at least hinted at at an aycronym of my new name, giving her my address in case of emergency, or any other reason. But, I hadn't enough money to pay my mailbox, and so even that was irrelevant, as everything was. Suicide By Cop. Maybe. Idk. Look: the tinier you are—the bigger my dick seems. I get it. So be tiny. I like cereal. I like cake. I like cookies. I like shakes. So you know what. What. That's okay. REAPER Give me my scythe, Billie. BILLIE ELLISH It's a miniature scythe. REAPER Yeah—my—miniature scythe. BILLIE ELLISH It's mine now. REAPER No, it's not— BILLIE ELLISH But—you gave it to me. REAPER It came with the job. BILLIE ELLISH The job sucked! REAPER I know that! “LIL' BITZ” I'm just mildly concerned that LAPD squad cars are still 1995 crown Vic's. Like: how do you even catch sometime in a mazzerati? The guy who drives a mazzeratti's like: hah. You don't. You know what it is You know what it is— You know what it is That's the business Comin in hot, like a chicken wing This ain't Toy Story—got no friend in me, You feelin me? Cold as Minnesota, I'm the ice queen Nice bling— Hollywood should buy this bitch a wedding ring Amphetamine Trick, you're a half, I'm the whole thing Whole Foods market, gotta own me No mink coat, I'm a vegan, Hocus Pocus, I'm three witches Okay, from the top Hello? This is Hollywood calling; We want the festival project We just wrote up the contract Come get your deposit: You're nominated for an Oscar Your Star On The Walk looks Awesome it's On Us Yeah? That's what's up I'll come up I'll come up I'll come up Say what's up That's my shite; I'm rep in the festival project Ya'll like “what's that?” I'll tel you all about it,—that's Coming up next Oh yeah, Oh yeah Tune in I'm On Welcome to your Hollywood life The good life Good life Welcome to the Hollywood life That's right That's right Welcome to your Hollywood life The good life Good life Welcome to the Hollywood life That's right That's right They call me young Hollywood, They robbed me good in Santa Monica And I so I got no address yet; But I'm coming up like one direction I just checked my reflection like: Mirror mirror on the wall I gotta go Hollywood's callin And I don't do this often Only when o bless the red carpet Comin in hot, like a chicken wing Call me Toy Story— got a friend in me, You feelin me? On the big screen livin out my dreams, I wrote my scenes, the Hollywood life: I neee I ride by On a tomeline I write, I like My nice things. The life I lead, Is ritghteous, I defy my means Applied IT, I might be AI, Fine my me; Cause all I see Is light I like, And I'm liking my Hollywood life, I think. It's just some Hollywood shit Isn't it fabulous This is some Hollywood shiy Isn't it fabulous You know what it is You know what it is— You know what it is That's the business One door close. Then another door opens So sick flow, go home with a cold then Woah, Hoe—cold like some snow boots Pants so big, I can parachute (PARIS SHOOT) Hoes look fake, like a blow up doll Harlem shake, i'm bout to blow up ya'll We think we may have found your home planet. Oh, you think? Look at this. [DUFF views the distant soarkling object through the telescope lens, squinting.] Is that it?! I don't know… [Suddenly, as DIFF begins to focus on the planet; a high pitched ring only DUFF seems to hear strikes her away from the telescope, writhing in pain.] Woah, what happened?! Are you okay?! Is she okay?! [DUFF falls into a coma] What, no way. WhT is this. It's a show. WhTs it called. Idk. Shut up. You shut up. I'm watching —shhh! Call the doctor! MEANWHILE, IN HOLLYWOOD Girl. Hm. Look at these motherfuckets* Ooh, keep that. Wow. Huh. The entire reason for turning on my phone was to write about that experience. Which experience? I don't know, I've had like ten experiences since I walked into that door—and I wanted to write about all of them. Uh huh. But I lost it. You lost it? Not all of it. Well. Some of it. Which ones did you keep? The Good ones Oh shit, it's almost coming back to me Uh. First of all. —French people in love are cute. What. That shit is literally the cutest thing ever. French people—in love—speaking French. That shit is sexy Did you see his eyes? That's okay, Cree— I ‘That'll be enough. Ugh. Now, class— It's time for a sonnet, or synonym Senators, gentlemen— Get in your rhythm and trip to this; Cause it's about to get lit again: Call me illiterate, ignorant, negligent; Never irrelevant, disheveled or leveled since, This entrance is Heaven sent Evidence of everlasting natural intelligence That'll do. Okay. Let's break fast, I make gas, And bake snacks; I lay facts I slay slacks I'm maybacks You may ask Questions about the lesson, With a raised hand —okay class? . . . Oh— You forgot it was a lesson? Let me reflect and inspect, Resurrect the message just a bit— I'm the profession, If I ask, They answer “Yessir” I guess, er Thet yur just a jester Dunce hat on your ass Last, and rhe past semester, Ask my sweater: Your girl would probably wear it If I let her Oooh. Equinox+ (EP) Love brings me out of my shell; —I could love you, I I could love you, I Could love you, I Could love you, I love you I love you, I This isn't good for my health; If you don't love me,oh well — (I could love you, I) This is just passing the time, Count my dimes and, I'm wealthy, you build me up Shining, I wake you up Diamond of mine, I love you, I Love you I Do what I want most the time, Cause nothing else matters but Making you mine I, so what I want most the time I can't get out Out of my mind, Cause I love you I love you I, Wasting my time, I could love you but Nevermind Drunk, And I'm stumbling up to my apartment for The 30th time this month, My rent's due tomorrow, but I got it, Woah, I've got just enough Just to keep fuxkin up Getting fucked up And filling my cup Like it's something, But it's nothing, Not really Nothing, Not really Be good Work it out Come on Work it odd Be good Shake it off Work it out Come on Be good, Work it off, Work it out— Come on Be good Work it out Shake it off Come on — We all know There's a monster in there And it wants let out; All man, beware— Yeah We all know There's a monster in her— And, Someone will let it go Oh, Someone let it go Oh, no (oh yeah) Oh, no That's no good That's no good Oh no (Oh yeah) Oh no (Oh yeah!) No, no You just had to let it go You just had to let it go Oh, no! — I need time To rationalize my genius I can't write light this Alt right all white nationalists I can fantazize, right? I could die like this It's a damn good life What fucking time is it, anyway? Right? I can't rationalize, this Fascist rats at The Fashion district Bam, I had it— I had to get right, man I had to get God on my Mantras I fucked up tomorrow, I'm off in Toronto with problems And dogma— Who's dog is this Tied up at the Whole Foods market I tried it, I died in the in I can't idolize idols, man Cry, though, Dip my bicoff in Chiapas coffee All pissed off, Woah It's the wrong morning to wallow in Caught me off guard at the offering Sha, there's no mother here, No other one, You're wrong God, I stopped to cross at all of them, I suffered when I swallowed, Rah, What's wrong? I'm feeling solemn on my sodomist Wishes of This centrifugal —‘swimming with the fishes, Get it? Woah, It's a whole open world of Wizards and witches I wish I could ditch this —the center or attention is this city— That's Alex Tribec, for the record Fuck the TriBeCa fest Rest in Los Angeles Rest in peace Barbra Hah— I've got all of em This is an awful lot of mantras, Stars and Stripes. God; I lost it at the Oscar's, Turn me on, or off I'm all of it Or not What was the cost of this? An awful lot of mantras, stars, And crosswalks, To stop dead in the center of “I'm miserable That's Hollywood for you, God, That's Hollywood, That's where we dropped you off — Have you had enough, yet? How was is? Enough! I'm not even fully up yet! Fuck, It was loveless, All up in ashes, I told ya, That “fun is a friend of the devil “ Burn in sense, Just rub out the sense Have my lips on your hips, Just rotate, As the earth did, In difference, she has Impatience is his imperfection “Eventually,” She says, “I'll see him” He tends to agree, Within reason— Winter breezes and freedom, This season Envy leaves, But she's gonna get even Come in threes, And maybe, We'll see then. Come to the surface, Come up— Don't give up yet Give what you've got; Half a lung, And the other is under— Come on, Come up, Come all— Come, you're walking on water! No wonder they call for you On earth — (We've got a Hot One, for you) Have you ever wondered What's wrong with us all? Fuck— Hollywood's calling, I don't have my phone on me Hollywood called, But your voice Mail is full, What? I finally picked up; The message at the tone, Was in Morse code Billy fit the Playbill, I signed it “usnavi” Yo, You look just like me A sacrifice? A sacrifice, I said, I'm red, I'm jealous like I've never been That's right, blue eyes then Next lifetime Fu— They robbed me of all my art As a hobby Worshipped for All I've got Not a god yet, but Gotta be working on something That's all of it, Gotta be knocking it off, Full of gossip and God, I want love But it's not in the cards, huh New Joan Of Ark, Where's the war That you wanted Not enough talk, But I've done enough walking Gosh, Two thumbs up, All applause from the audience That what you wanted? Yeah! “God I want love but it's not in the cards yet” That's what you wanted? Yeah! That's what you wanted 10.60 2.94 7.75 Strange things happen when you change your vibration to Skrillex. It had been a fucking disasterous 24 hours l; not that I hadn't expected it to be, with Vegas in mind as the shithole capitol of the world, or at least the US, which was indeed turning to shit. Street after street filled with bodies, nearly dead but not—and not a care in the world at all by anyone who could help for the working class, nearly succumbed to poverty, or the homeless, by the millions in numbers rather than the mere thousands the false media portrayed as still an absolute crisis and state of emergency, however downplaying the numbers by millions, as they had already learned that the docile American public could be persuaded or made to move with numbers by the “pandemic”, a fear mongering new world order which had proved that almost no Americans could do math, or anything besides scroll and take selfies. GUESS WHAT DAY IT IS. Oh no. Not Skrillex Day, is it—? ITS SKRILLRX DAY, BIIITCH. Ugh. Fuck Yeah, you lil bitch. I'm spaced out, listing to Skrillex on sunset No shuffle I forgot about this one: It makes my lips numb This bitch dumb I'. Just a number! I don't really give a fuck ! If I had a Benz and blunt— I'd prob'ly roll my windows up Sunni with da big butt Come and get ya duck sucked I would say sunni blū But then I'd probably get some Crips up Ignorant indigenous ninjer Bendit like bender remember Send er a message when you get here Mister Fuck, I hate this. RULES OF TRAVEL ENTER THE MULTIVERSE SEASON 6 - ACT II I almost left my Elfbar in Raton, But I couldn't let go; It just held on. I had to leave my skateboard back at home , But now I'm gone. Now i'm gone Now I'm sick to my stomach, I didn't want this Now I'm so sick to my stomach; I didn't want it And all the non believers, And all the sinners, saints together on a train, wishing to be rich or famous; Freedom, Plain and simple *very scary music* I warned you; No bloodshed in LA. [A single drop of blood hits the pavement with a splash, in a vivid slow motion close up of the gritty Downto Los Angeles sidewalk] FLASHBACK; Have you ever heard of a blood oath? I knew something was wrong with that girl. It's not just that girl; It's this place. People do a lot of things to get by in LA. What is “get by” You're never gonna make it Well, then; I was never going to anyway–so it really doesn't matter. gal·lant adjective 1.(of a person or their behavior) brave; heroic."she had made gallant efforts to pull herself together" Similar: brave courageous valiant valorous bold plucky daring fearless intrepid heroic lionhearted stouthearted doughty mettlesome great-spirited honorable noble manly manful macho dashing daredevil death-or-glory undaunted unflinching unshrinking unafraid dauntless indomitable gutsy spunky ballsy have-a-go venturous Opposite: cowardly 2.(of a man or his behavior) giving special attention and respect to women; chivalrous."a gallant gentleman came over and kissed my hand" Similar: chivalrous gentlemanly courtly courteous respectful polite attentive gracious considerate thoughtful obliging mannerly gentle Opposite: discourteous rude nounARCHAIC /ɡəˈlant,ɡəˈlänt/ a man who pays special attention to women."he launches himself into a gallant's career of amorous intrigue" Similar: suitor wooer admirer worshipper beau sweetheart lover love beloved boyfriend young man man friend escort swain paramour verbARCHAIC /ɡəˈlant,ɡəˈlänt/ (of a man) flirt with (a woman)."Mowbray was gallanting the Polish lady" Gee' Moo had his hands all over me, which made me uncomfortable—but I had sworn solemnly to myself never to ‘tell' on any man again—and neither would I call them out, or make objections to their actions in any way; the age told story had always been ‘her word against mine ‘, making the woman or victim in question appear weak, and of course, untrustworthy—whatever that meant anyway, and not that any of his attempts were hostile, He knew I was openly celibate, and supposedly respected that—however, I just found it best to wholly keep him in the friend zone and keep the notion to myself, as he still seemed to have some kind of hope for something greater between us—and though I did consider him more than a friend, I considered him more like family than anything, his own blurred lines a shadow that had become too great to perhaps any longer be colegues—at least for now—especially that I was fleeing the US once more in complete secrecy—and though there had been some good work between the two of us, I wasn't equalling to his vibration anymore, his music sounded strange and off, and the words that would come to my mind were less easy than pushed or forced, and repetitive in sound and style. I knew that I was leaving, but had refused to tell anybody, especially Gee', who may have raised questions as to where I was going—something that seemed to be good to keep quiet entirely, as even earlier in the day I had tried to give my tour list to Equinox to see if I could bypass upgrading my membership to Destination by giving them a list of dates and cities I would visit and being given access to the visitors list in each city—I was however persuaded into not doing so and keeping my Desrination Stetus, as after attempting to give my home club my list of cities and dates, even against my own instinct and better judgement, the manager dawned a look in his eye that said “just lay low”, and as low as I could lay, I didn't know how long it would last with the onslaught of things I would have to do on my phone and computer over wifi during the long traveling time. Still, I wanted to travel lightly—and perhaps it was Divine intervention itself in the form of God when my $80 Nike backpack broke, leaving me scurrying for a new one that I could afford simply with the remaining balance on my gift card—luckily, I did find one that presumably fit my needs available for pickup, of course, even less high quality than the oversized “training” bag I had purchased just a few months before, not realizing that 32 Liters would be more than enough space, hard to fit under an airplane seat, and Ill-fitting the more petite I would become, or even as my weight fluctuated, just awkward looking in general—and though it was a very attractive bag, I had always thought it to be a little too ‘loud' and ostentatious, though I had become attracted somehow after being unable to return it as I had thought to when I had first ordered it, receiving the bag just before leaving Las Vegas, which I would return to the following day to retrieve the drum machine I had pawned as a matter of absolute survival. The best part about riding the train is… CUT TO: A firey plane crash CUT BACK TO You can't fall out of the sky. (Ya.) SHIA LA— Fuck it. SHIA IS “THE AIR MARSHALL” Ohh, what's this one about? Oh my God. I wasn't writing, and so I must have been in some way dead-I wasn't feeling even a whisp of inspiration, anymore—only annoyance, and slight suffering. The train to chugs I had gone all too quickly, and though I had started chipping away at some projects, there was nothing finished. Though the inhuman vibration and hostile tone of LA was long behind me, something did linger on a bit, perhaps in the form of love or some other feeling or attachment I had formed during my time there. I was, myself, vibrating differently— waving into a motion of the unknown, and not that it mattered what would happen anymore—I hadn't anything to love, or anything to lose, and so everything just seemed a wash entirely. I had never been so dejected in my life. Now I gotta do some Sunnï Blū shit. —Hurry. Hurry what. We gotta go, Oh. Oh Deng. Oh dang. What happened? No, that's just what planet they're from. Dang. That's tricky. New York— Ehrhm. You look good. Hm. You cleaned up. Ya. Nice. Yeah it is. Nice. I said that.. Stop incepting me. No. Stop this please please. Just stop sleeping. Okay. I wish you would die. I just did. WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE. idobntknow. SUNNI BLŪ I DO WHAT I WANT. Fuck, What. That's sunni Blu Okay? She does what she wants. That's not supacree Is it not? No. What happened? S/he chanxed. I'm a “they” –And this is how it all makes sense. What is this fucking place. “East” Ugh. Oh, there's Toronto. That makes sense. Ew. I know right. UGH. LOOK AT ALL THIS POOP. I know, huh. LOOK AT IT. Don't do maps on kx5. Should we “Earth” We should Earth. Ew. What dimension is this? Fucking sick–gross. This isnt Earth. This is Earth! What happened to it. *coughs* It seems some demonic force has taken over. *coughs* Ew. This is fucked up. Should we leave. NO! *coughs* I mean –yeah, but we should at least try to figure out what happened first. *coughs* First?! Or, later–maybe *coughs*coughs*coughs* Yeah, lets leave. FUCK. What, dude, guh I told you no deadmau5 on the train. No you didn't. I should have. I SHOULD HAVE KILLED THAT THING WHEN I SAW IT. How would you do that? THE DEADMAUS Go to sleep. K. Did you guys “Earth” Uh, yeah, but– Was it awesome? Uhm, no. No, dude. Why, what happened? We don't know. It was bad. “Adventure is allowing the unexpected to happen to you. Exploration is experiencing what you have not experienced before.” — Richard Aldington Schenectady Ahahaha Poughkeepsie lol what. All these are places. Yeah, I know. People live in these places . Oh My God. What. Where's Whole Foods? You need Jesus. Where's he at? JESUS CHRIST Timmy, this party is lit. TIMMY TURNER Yeah, thanks bro. JESUS CHRIST I love you. TIMMY TURNER (eaving) K that's weird. IT DOESN”T. What . MAKE ANY SENSE. I simulated this experience, in the construct of time In the confines of time and space—just to have this moment. Uh. Train—-To Deadmau5. [BLŪ Exercises Furiously] Train—To Deadmau5. [BLŪ boards the train hurriedly] SOMETIMES— I'm all wrapped up; Wrapped up in your love –But you never come for me I'm all wrapped up in your love Wonder what comes of it You never come for me I'm all wrapped up in your love; A half smile on my face; (l love you) Always thinking of you What else can I do, but To fee stupid Can't get over you, but As the sun comes up, I wander off, Remember us I guess it's a long walk Guess i'll just fall out of it About time… About that– I'm all wrapped up, yeah Wrapped up in your love Sonny Moore had inspired some of the greatest thing i had ever written in my time; and all with just one look–two eyes, and no words at all, began an infinite unravelling of words from God's hands and into my minds eye. Farro. …Your Majesty. I need help. Don't burden me with your woes. I beg your pardon? No, don't beg. LINDSAY LOHAN is sleeping FACE DOWN on the couch in SunnÏ Blū's Studio Lindsay, wake up. Mmfh. [Does not wake up. At all.] Lindsay. Mmf. Tequila. [Suddenly very awake, in fact; she has suddenly perked up with an amazing glow. ] *very serious knocks on the door* Oh shit. [suddenly, more drunk again] –oh shit. *three more knocks* Where's the tequila? SUNNÏ Ah, shit. Is that your lawyer, or your manager? Shit, maybe both. SUNNI. OPEN THE DOOR . –Might even be my agent, too. OPEN THE GODDAMN DOOR. (Both, in cheesy unison, tiny rock concert} I CHIMED IN WITH A HAVENT YOU PEOPLE EVER HEARD OF [Sunni opens the door. No, it's “closing the door– not “open the door” “The Goddamn door.” Right, Goddamit. –where's the tequila. Where it is– [Sunni points in a wayward direction; Lindsay stumbles morning-aftery into the booth. Eww–”morning aftery” Not like that. *addendum* [That Is, just to say that this scene takes place in the afterdays haze of a very –Very Holy Shit , God. What. You rule. [Lindsay enters the booth and uncaps a bottle of tequila so effing fancy, it hurts to look at.] So fucking fancy. Was that lindsay lohan? Yeah it is. It's still lindsay logan, Morgen– –It's ‘Morgan” –She's just over there now. Not “was” How are you even friends. FLASHBACK SUNNI BLU sup, Lindsay Lohan! LINDSAY LOHAN sup. Who are you? SUNNI BLU I'm Sunni Blū LINDSAY LOHAN LIKE—the rapper. SUNNI BLU Not “like”. Am. LINDSAY LOHAN tight. SUNNI BLU. Sup. LINDSAY LOHAN Sup. SUNNI BLU I heard you like to party. LINDSAY LOHAN I like to party. SUNNI BLU —and, you DJ. LINDSAY LOHAN Oh yeah, huh! I was a DJ once. SUNNI BLU so was I. CUT BACK TO: SUNNI BLU now we're besties. I might be trapped in this hell, here, I figure But it's over when it's over, I cannot live here, Or anywhere Here's my liver; All he needed was a sliver, the silver lizard But I have him the whole thing The whole thing The whole thing I swallowed the whole world whole, once And now it all happens, Over and over; A simple digestion And I've got no questions left No intuition, either No black characters, No brown eyes; I hate my life I hate my life Blonde is good, And redheads are nice; I hate my life I hate my life ‘Rich white peope are so fucking nasty sometimes' I had the best and the worst of it at Equinox, and while I considered it a miracle that I had even come so far, as to consider luxury fitness a priority and absolute necessity, even forgoing eating what I wanted or other comforts in paying my gym dues, now I had given myself what I thought to be the opportunity of a lifetime—it was on my bucket list, at least last time I checked, to visit Equinox in every city the chain had locations—and having put all my time and every fiber of my being into just ‘staying afloat', my idea of ‘living a little' was to workout as much as possible, while I still could—-as money was well beyond running dry just out or the sheer expense of traveling—or now—“touring”, as I would consider it, using my music as a means of not appearing homeless and destitute, and using my podcast as a medium for its promotion—though, I still didn't know where my listeners or downloads were coming from, and my Spotify, the last I had checked, had “0 monthly listeners” it was beginning again to be clear how much the United States hated black people, for whatever reason— and how privelege and power had overtaken even the best people's better senses. Humanity was slipping away—and so was I; the best I could do was to make my body as comfortable to live in as possible, and for whatever reason, I was drawn to Equinox to do so. Anandar or someone like her had once said, the key to being rich, is to spend money like you're rich, no matter the amount of money you had—knowing that in doing so, your money would multiply tenfold. I had never done so before, but between Equinox and my food stamps being stolen, the amount of money I had been draining myself of did indeed make me feel and look as if I had endless disposable income—and perhaps I did somehow—somewhere in the near future , if I could just convince myself I really was as special as my writing made me seem, or feel, simply reading it myself, or having chosen a carefully select few to read it. I was, indeed, a genius: the problem was, geniuses and writers particularly up to then had been notoriously famous for dying alone, penniless and undiscovered, and very often—by our own hands. Eleven since, I left Hell, and been in Heaven since I'm heaven sent I burn incense The taste of bile filled my mouth and sat on the back of my tongue as I tried to avoid the inevitability of swallowing it; it had all been worth it—the train to Hollywood had not altogether been as horrible as it usually was on The Expo—and as I rode 9 stops exactly into my old stomping grounds, I exited the Hollywood and Vine metro station to a nostalgic and familiar territory; this is where my Hollywood story had started, and had apparently yet to end, as I swept the Walk of Fame in a way I supposed I never had, the shadow of my old self following not behind, but directly overhead; I was, indeed, just a ghost. I ended up at Amoeba Music, hair dripping wet, and, though I had yet to eat in a couple of days, not feeling as if I had quite done a proper workout, rushed in the final hour to Hollywood, as the downtown location had been closed; Fine by me, as I was over and done with the downtown atmosphere altogether, and though I wasn't a particular fan of the new Amoeba Music location, I had felt a close calling to go to Hollywood that day, even before I knew I would have to—and ending up there anyway seemed to be another synchronicity indeed. ‘Spend it on something you love.' The voice had said, perhaps just my own—but not sounding anything at all like my own internal dialogue. No, this voice seemed entirely more divine, and so I took it as such, and was careful not to spend any of the carefully collected and specially marked dollar bills on anything I absolutely didn't love—and though I was terrified of the overall outcome of everything—now jobless, or rather, without secured income—my job having become myself in the process of writing, making music, and improving my physique to its peak performance and physical fitness, I had been careful not to spend any money at all on anything I absolutely didn't need. However, I did need music after all, and loved it more than anything, besides my own son—who did at least ask about me, after all, according to my estranged ex, who I had shielded myself from entirely, changing my name, my number, and my location for my own safety and peace of mind, rather than for aesthetic reasons, as anyone might have thought. But really, no one might have thought at all, as I was careful to leave everyone and everything behind that had come with my birth name, besides my father, my son, and my beloved Auntie, who I still allowed to call me “Cree”, though I had at least hinted at at an aycronym of my new name, giving her my address in case of emergency, or any other reason. But, I hadn't enough money to pay my mailbox, and so even that was irrelevant, as everything was. Look: the tinier you are—the bigger my dick seems. I get it. So be tiny. I like cereal. I like cake. I like cookies. I like shakes. So you know what. What. That's okay. REAPER Give me my scythe, Billie. BILLIE ELLISH It's a miniature scythe. REAPER Yeah—my—miniature scythe. BILLIE ELLISH It's mine now. REAPER No, it's not— BILLIE ELLISH But—you gave it to me. REAPER It came with the job. BILLIE ELLISH The job sucked! REAPER I know that! I'm just mildly concerned that LAPD squad cars are still 1995 crown Vic's. Like: how do you even catch sometime in a mazzerati? The guy who drives a mazzeratti's like: hah. You don't. You know what it is You know what it is— You know what it is That's the business Comin in hot, like a chicken wing This ain't Toy Story—got no friend in me, You feelin me? Cold as Minnesota, I'm the ice queen Nice bling— Hollywood should buy this bitch a wedding ring Amohetemime Trick, you're a half, I'm the whole thing Whole Foods market, gotta own me No mink coat, I'm a vegan, Hocus Pocus, I'm three witches Okay, from the top Hello? This is Hollywood calling; We want the festival project We just wrote up the contract Come get your deposit: You're nominated for an Oscar Your Star On The Walk looks Awesome it's On Us Yeah? That's what's up I'll come up I'll come up I'll come up Say what's up That's my shite; I'm rep in the festival project Ya'll like “what's that?” I'll tel you all about it,—that's Coming up next Oh yeah, Oh yeah Tune in I'm On Welcome to your Hollywood life The good life Good life Welcome to the Hollywood life That's right That's right Welcome to your Hollywood life The good life Good life Welcome to the Hollywood life That's right That's right They call me young Hollywood, They robbed me good in Santa Monica And I so I got no address yet; But I'm coming up like one direction I just checked my reflection like: Mirror mirror on the wall I gotta go Hollywood's callin And I don't do this often Only when o bless the red carpet Comin in hot, like a chicken wing Call me Toy Story— got a friend in me, You feelin me? On the big screen livin out my dreams, I wrote my scenes, the Hollywood life: I neee I ride by On a tomeline I write, I like My nice things. The life I lead, Is ritghteous, I defy my means Applied IT, I might be AI, Fine my me; Cause all I see Is light I like, And I'm liking my Hollywood life, I think. Nice bling— Hollywood should buy this bitch a wedding ring Amohetemime Trick, you're a half, I'm the whole thing Whole Foods market, gotta own me No mink coat, I'm a vegan, Hocus Pocus, I'm three witches It's just some Hollywood shit Isn't it fabulous This is some Hollywood shiy Isn't it fabulous Comin in hot, like a chicken wing This ain't Toy Story—got no friend in me, You feelin me? Cold as Minnesota, I'm the ice queen Nice bling— Hollywood should buy this bitch a wedding ring Amohetemime Trick, you're a half, I'm the whole thing Whole Foods market, gotta own me No mink coat, I'm a vegan, Hocus Pocus, I'm three witches You know what it is You know what it is— You know what it is That's the business One door close. Then another door opens So sick flow, go home with a cold then Woah, Hoe—cold like some snow boots Pants so big, I can parachutes Hoes look fake, like a blow up doll Harlem shake, i'm bout to blow up ya'll We think we may have found your home planet. Oh, you think? Look at this'd [DUFF views the distant soarkling object through the telescope lens, squinting.] Is that it?! I don't know… [Suddenly, as DIFF begins to focus on the planet; a high pitched ring only DUFF seems to hear strikes her away from the telescope, writhing in pain.] Woah, what happened?! Are you okay?! Is she okay?! [DUFF falls into a coma] What, no way. WhT is this. It's a show. WhTs it called. Idk. Shut up. You shut up. I'm watching —shhh! Call the doctor! DUFF! What's your name again? …Are you serious? No, I'm kidding. (No, I actually forgot what I named this character) I think it's “Joel” I doubt that. What was it. Idk, moving on. …did you forget? Yeah, I forgot. It's okay! Yeah, I guess. We found you!! Yeah. Sorry we destroyed the planet— —only like half. It's totally destroyed. It was like that before you guys landed. —? Just Trust me. Why does it look like somebody turned you upside down? I was “paralyzed” What's that mean? It happens here. That sounds horrible. This place sucks. It's really far. Girl. Hm. Look at these motherfuckets* Ooh, keep that. Wow. Huh. The entire reason for turning on my phone was to write about that experience. Which experience? I don't know, I've had like ten experiences since I walked into that door—and I wanted to write about all of them. Uh huh. But I lost it. You lost it? Not all of it. Well. Some of it. Which ones did you keep? The Good ones Oh shit, it's almost coming back to me Uh. First of all. —French people in love are cute. What. That shit is literally the cutest thing ever. French people—in love—speaking French. That shit is sexy Did you see his eyes? That's okay, Cree— I ‘That'll be enough. Ugh. Now, class— It's time for a sonnet, or synonym Senators, gentlemen— Get in your rhythm and trip to this; Cause it's about to get lit again: Call me illiterate, ignorant, negligent; Never irrelevant, disheveled or leveled since, This entrance is Heaven sent Evidence of everlasting natural intelligence That'll do. Okay. Let's break fast, I make gas, And bake snacks; I lay facts I slay slacks I'm maybacks You may ask Questions about the lesson, With a raised hand —okay class? . . . Oh— You forgot it was a lesson? Let me reflect and inspect, Resurrect the message just a bit— I'm the profession, If I ask, They answer “Yessir” I guess, er Thet yur just a jester Dunce hat on your ass Last, and rhe past semester, Ask my sweater: Your girl would probably wear it If I let her Oooh. Equinox+ (EP) Love brings me out of my shell; —I could love you, I I could love you, I Could love you, I Could love you, I love you I love you, I This isn't good for my health; If you don't love me,oh well — (I could love you, I) This is just passing the time, Count my dimes and, I'm wealthy, you build me up Shining, I wake you up Diamond of mine, I love you, I Love you I Do what I want most the time, Cause nothing else matters but Making you mine I, so what I want most the time I can't get out Out of my mind, Cause I love you I love you I, Wasting my time, I could love you but Nevermind Drunk, And I'm stumbling up to my apartment for The 30th time this month, My rent's due tomorrow, but I got it, Woah, I've got just enough Just to keep fuxkin up Getting fucked up And filling my cup Like it's something, But it's nothing, Not really Nothing, Not really Be good Work it out Come on Work it odd Be good Shake it off Work it out Come on Be good, Work it off, Work it out— Come on Be good Work it out Shake it off Come on — We all know There's a monster in there And it wants let out; All man, beware— Yeah We all know There's a monster in her— And, Someone will let it go Oh, Someone let it go Oh, no (oh yeah) Oh, no That's no good That's no good Oh no (Oh yeah) Oh no (Oh yeah!) No, no You just had to let it go You just had to let it go Oh, no! — I need time To rationalize my genius I can't write light this Alt right all white nationalists I can fantazize, right? I could die like this It's a damn good life What fucking time is it, anyway? Right? I can't rationalize, this Fascist rats at The Fashion district Bam, I had it— I had to get right, man I had to get God on my Mantras I fucked up tomorrow, I'm off in Toronto with problems And dogma— Who's dog is this Tied up at the Whole Foods market I tried it, I died in the in I can't idolize idols, man Cry, though, Dip my bicoff in Chiapas coffee All pissed off, Woah It's the wrong morning to wallow in Caught me off guard at the offering Sha, there's no mother here, No other one, You're wrong God, I stopped to cross at all of them, I suffered when I swallowed, Rah, What's wrong? I'm feeling solemn on my sodomist Wishes of This centrifugal —‘swimming with the fishes, Get it? Woah, It's a whole open world of Wizards and witches I wish I could ditch this —the center or attention is this city— That's Alex Tribec, for the record Fuck the TriBeCa fest Rest in Los Angeles Rest in peace Barbra Hah— I've got all of em This is an awful lot of mantras, Stars and Stripes. God; I lost it at the Oscar's, Turn me on, or off I'm all of it Or not What was the cost of this? An awful lot of mantras, stars, And crosswalks, To stop dead in the center of “I'm miserable That's Hollywood for you, God, That's Hollywood, That's where we dropped you off — Have you had enough, yet? How was is? Enough! I'm not even fully up yet! Fuck, It was loveless, All up in ashes, I told ya, That “fun is a friend of the devil “ Burn in sense, Just rub out the sense Have my lips on your hips, Just rotate, As the earth did, In difference, she has Impatience is his imperfection “Eventually,” She says, “I'll see him” He tends to agree, Within reason— Winter breezes and freedom, This season Envy leaves, But she's gonna get even Come in threes, And maybe, We'll see then. Come to the surface, Come up— Don't give up yet Give what you've got; Half a lung, And the other is under— Come on, Come up, Come all— Come, you're walking on water! No wonder they call for you On earth — (We've got a Hot One, for you) Have you ever wondered What's wrong with us all? Fuck— Hollywood's calling, I don't have my phone on me Hollywood called, But your voice Mail is full, What? I finally picked up; The message at the tone, Was in Morse code Billy fit the Playbill, I signed it “usnavi” Yo, You look just like me A sacrifice? A sacrifice, I said, I'm red, I'm jealous like I've never been That's right, blue eyes then Next lifetime Fu— They robbed me of all my art As a hobby Worshipped for All I've got Not a god yet, but Gotta be working on something That's all of it, Gotta be knocking it off, Full of gossip and God, I want love But it's not in the cards, huh New Joan Of Ark, Where's the war That you wanted Not enough talk, But I've done enough walking Gosh, Two thumbs up, All applause from the audience That what you wanted? Yeah! “God I want love but it's not in the cards yet” That's what you wanted? Yeah! That's what you wanted 10.60 2.94 7.75 Strange things happen when you change your vibration to Skrillex. It had been a fucking disasterous 24 hours l; not that I hadn't expected it to be, with Vegas in mind as the shithole capitol of the world, or at least the US, which was indeed turning to shit. Street after street filled with bodies, nearly dead but not—and not a care in the world at all by anyone who could help for the working class, nearly succumbed to poverty, or the homeless, by the millions in numbers rather than the mere thousands the false media portrayed as still an absolute crisis and state of emergency, however downplaying the numbers by millions, as they had already learned that the docile American public could be persuaded or made to move with numbers by the “pandemic”, a fear mongering new world order which had proved that almost no Americans could do math, or anything besides scroll and take selfies. GUESS WHAT DAY IT IS. Oh no. Not Skrillex Day, is it—? ITS SKRILLRX DAY, BIIITCH. Ugh. Fuck Yeah, you lil bitch. I'm spaced out, listing to Skrillex on sunset No shuffle I forgot about this one: It makes my lips numb This bitch dumb I'. Just a number! I don't really give a fuck ! If I had a Benz and blunt— I'd prob'ly roll my windows up Sunni with da big butt Come and get ya duck sucked I would say sunni blū But then I'd probably get some Crips up Ignorant indigenous ninjer Bendit like bender remember Send er a message when you get here Mister Fuck, I hate this. RULES OF TRAVEL Always leave things better than you found it. Well, I feel better, Thanks , God. Yep, no problem. Okay. *lays down momentarily* [half beat] Back to Work. [Suddenly Getting Up] OkayZ. Do ya'll remember—the time on the train. “ damn, I shoulda saw that movie with Carmella. This is hilarious. Watch. Agh, God. What is it. Now it's the hard part; I gotta do some technical shit. Mm. Like what: Put it on the net. don't. Uh. Too late, bitch. ::||pause. is this train gonna go. Is it. Innit. K. [train starts moving] Hm. I lost the thought, In awe of it all— The saga I wrote, and The words that would fall, All around me; The words that I saw, And the words that had found me The words that I was, And could not be without being Unh. That'll do. Lol what is up with this train. CONDUCTOR. Yo, it's me. Who the fuxk is this. What is this operation. Lol. Damn, what . 3D has its perks This is way beyond 3D. I know. bitch. **shh, don't cuss. What. It's for the kidsZ No, it isn't. It's for the kiddzzz. What. No. Yes: NoS For thee kids. So I turn 30 and my body keeps reminding me that I'm a baby machines Okay: What. Ew, that's gross. Lol. Only cause she's 30. What. Agism: it's real. EVERYTHING IS REAL. What. Uh. RAIL. —WHAt— —RAIL— Damn. … Zzz … SUPACREEA* is seated on the LOUNGE car in COACH. Don't capitalize coach. YOU're IN COAH. Oh hell yeah. What's in there. Not you. Okay, I'll be SUPACREE A, And you'll be SUPACREE B. Okay. You're not gonna disagree to being ‘B' instead of A, like me? I am you. I don't care. Fine. . . . I want to be SUPACREE B No take backs. SUPACREE A and SUOACREE B are DUPLICATES. DAMN, YOU DUPLICATED? Not on purpose! DAMN. This goes beyond shapeshiftig. I didn't know you could do that. I could do that. Oh. ‘Oh' Ugh I got this feeling in my soul— —I got this stone inside my palm— I got this pulling in my heart— —i feel like you could be the one; But you're gone, now Gone, gone, gone Gone gone, gone Gone, gone, gone Gone, gone, gone —and when there's no where left to run; —and there's no need to wander off— —and there is no one left to love— I guess I'll see you when you're gone Gone, gone, gone Gone gone, gone Gone, gone, gone Gone, gone, gone I'm gonna go ahead and take this on. Oh, God, No! —not because I want to; But why, then?! Because I gotta. You came a long way, kid. Where am I now? Oh, you're still nowhere. ITS NO FAIR. Life isn't fair, Amanda. But MoooooOO0000M. NO. BUT MO— NO—no SUPACREE show tonight! But— I told you, clean your room. I don't know what I am. You're a fairy. Pretty scary fairy. It'll do, though. WANDA. NO. COME, ON, WANDA NO. WANDA, COME ON. WAKANDA FOR— No, no black Panther. What, why not? That movie's racist. Wha-?! CUT TO: I didn't want to do it this way, kid. Who are you? The crypt keeper. Oh. Yeah. Am I Dead? Yeah. Wow. Yeah. Hm. Yep. Can I see your scythe? You wanna see? Yeah, it's nice— *SCYLCE!* Lol. AOh my god AAAAHHHHHJH—Drake BELL. Don't worry, he's an ansolary character. Wat. Kinda. Damn. Season 6 is on FIRE THE HOLLYWOOD PEOLPLE ahem. Hollywood is on fire. SUPACREE WHELP. I'm out. No, don't go. SKRILLEX DONT LEAVE ME LIKE THIS. SONNY Fuck it, I'm in Korea. Or Thailand, or whatever. Something like that. “Something like that.” Ahem. Where's Dillon Francis. LITERALLY FUCKING EVERYONE FUCK DILLON FRANCIS. Damn. YeH, that. Well, God forbid anything actually happens to that guy. GOD I don't forbid anything. It's a free world. AHAHAHAHHAHA AHAHAHAHAHJAHAHJJA AHAHAHHA STOP. What. Go back. WhT. For. Just. Go back. For what. I thought I saw somethings Something like what. Something. Just. Ugh. JUST REWIND. SUPACREE has replaced the remote with THE SYNETHESIA PANEL MINI *life itself rewinds

[The Festival Project Presents: {ENTER THE MULTIVERSE} THE LEGEND OF… THE INFINITE SKRILLIFILES GERALD'S WORLD & ASCENSION DEATHWISH LEGENDS THE INSOMNIAC {ENTER THE MULTIVERSE} SEASON 6 - ACT II - PART II I almost left my Elfbar in Raton, But I couldn't let go; It just held on. I had to leave my skateboard back at home , But now I'm gone. Now i'm gone Now I'm sick to my stomach, I didn't want this Now I'm so sick to my stomach; I didn't want it And all the non believers, And all the sinners, saints together on a train, wishing to be rich or famous; Freedom, Plain and simple *very scary music* I warned you; No bloodshed in LA. [A single drop of blood hits the pavement with a splash, in a vivid slow motion close up of the gritty Downtown Los Angeles sidewalk] FLASHBACK; Have you ever heard of a blood oath? I knew something was wrong with that girl. It's not just that girl; It's this place. People do a lot of things to get by in LA. What is “get by” You're never gonna make it. Well, then; I was never going to anyway–so it really doesn't matter. “The Golden Girl” gal·lant adjective 1.(of a person or their behavior) brave; heroic."she had made gallant efforts to pull herself together" Similar: brave courageous valiant valorous bold plucky daring fearless intrepid heroic lionhearted stouthearted doughty mettlesome great-spirited honorable noble manly manful macho dashing daredevil death-or-glory undaunted unflinching unshrinking unafraid dauntless indomitable gutsy spunky ballsy have-a-go venturous Opposite: cowardly 2.(of a man or his behavior) giving special attention and respect to women; chivalrous."a gallant gentleman came over and kissed my hand" Similar: chivalrous gentlemanly courtly courteous respectful polite attentive gracious considerate thoughtful obliging mannerly gentle Opposite: discourteous rude nounARCHAIC /ɡəˈlant,ɡəˈlänt/ a man who pays special attention to women."he launches himself into a gallant's career of amorous intrigue" Similar: suitor wooer admirer worshipper beau sweetheart lover love beloved boyfriend young man man friend escort swain paramour verbARCHAIC /ɡəˈlant,ɡəˈlänt/ (of a man) flirt with (a woman)."Mowbray was gallanting the Polish lady" Gee' Mo had his hands all over me, which made me uncomfortable—but I had sworn solemnly to myself never to ‘tell' on any man again—and neither would I call them out, or make objections to their actions in any way; the age told story had always been ‘her word against mine ‘, making the woman or victim in question appear weak, and of course, untrustworthy—whatever that meant anyway, and not that any of his attempts were hostile, He knew I was openly celibate, and supposedly respected that—however, I just found it best to wholly keep him in the friend zone and keep the notion to myself, as he still seemed to have some kind of hope for something greater between us—and though I did consider him more than a friend, I considered him more like family than anything, his own blurred lines a shadow that had become too great to perhaps any longer be colegues—at least for now—especially that I was fleeing the US once more in complete secrecy—and though there had been some good work between the two of us, I wasn't equalling to his vibration anymore, his music sounded strange and off, and the words that would come to my mind were less easy than pushed or forced, and repetitive in sound and style. I knew that I was leaving, but had refused to tell anybody, especially Gee', who may have raised questions as to where I was going—something that seemed to be good to keep quiet entirely, as even earlier in the day I had tried to give my tour list to Equinox to see if I could bypass upgrading my membership to Destination by giving them a list of dates and cities I would visit and being given access to the visitors list in each city—I was however persuaded into not doing so and keeping my Desrination Stetus, as after attempting to give my home club my list of cities and dates, even against my own instinct and better judgement, the manager dawned a look in his eye that said “just lay low”, and as low as I could lay, I didn't know how long it would last with the onslaught of things I would have to do on my phone and computer over wifi during the long traveling time. Still, I wanted to travel lightly—and perhaps it was Divine intervention itself in the form of God when my $80 Nike backpack broke, leaving me scurrying for a new one that I could afford simply with the remaining balance on my gift card—luckily, I did find one that presumably fit my needs available for pickup, of course, even less high quality than the oversized “training” bag I had purchased just a few months before, not realizing that 32 Liters would be more than enough space, hard to fit under an airplane seat, and Ill-fitting the more petite I would become, or even as my weight fluctuated, just awkward looking in general—and though it was a very attractive bag, I had always thought it to be a little too ‘loud' and ostentatious, though I had become attracted somehow after being unable to return it as I had thought to when I had first ordered it, receiving the bag just before leaving Las Vegas, which I would return to the following day to retrieve the drum machine I had pawned as a matter of absolute survival. INT. TRAIN. WHENEVER. The best part about riding the train is… CUT TO: A FIREY PLANE CRASH CUT BACK TO: You can't fall out of the sky. (Ya.) SHIA LA— Fuck it. SHIA LABEOUF IS: “THE AIR MARSHALL” Ohh, what's this one about? Oh my God. I wasn't writing, and so I must have been in some way dead-I wasn't feeling even a whisp of inspiration, anymore—only annoyance, and slight suffering. The train ride had gone all too quickly, and though I had started chipping away at some projects, there was nothing finished. Though the inhuman vibration and hostile tone of LA was long behind me, something did linger on a bit, perhaps in the form of love or some other feeling or attachment I had formed during my time there. I was, myself, vibrating differently— waving into a motion of the unknown, and not that it mattered what would happen anymore—I hadn't anything to love, or anything to lose, and so everything just seemed a wash entirely. I had never been so dejected in my life. Now I gotta do some Sunnï Blū shit. —Hurry. Hurry what. We gotta go, Oh. Oh Deng. Oh dang. What happened? No, that's just what planet they're from. Dang. That's tricky. New York— Ehrhm. You look good. Hm. You cleaned up. Ya. Nice. Yeah it is. Nice. I said that.. Stop incepting me. No. Stop this please. Just stop sleeping. Okay. I wish you would die. I just did. WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE. idobntknow. SUNNI BLŪ I DO WHAT I WANT. Fuck, What. That's Sunnï Blu Okay? She does what she wants. That's not SUPACREE. Is it not? No. What happened? S/he chanxed. I'm a “they” –And this is how it all makes sense. What is this fucking place. “East” Ugh. Oh, there's Toronto. That makes sense. Ew. I know right. UGH. LOOK AT ALL THIS POOP. I know, huh. LOOK AT IT. Don't do maps on kx5. Should we “Earth” We should Earth. Ew. What dimension is this? Fucking sick–gross. This isnt Earth. This is Earth! What happened to it. *coughs* It seems some demonic force has taken over. *coughs* Ew. This is fucked up. Should we leave. NO! *coughs* I mean –yeah, but we should at least try to figure out what happened first. *coughs* First?! Or, later–maybe *coughs*coughs*coughs* Yeah, lets leave. FUCK. What, dude, guh. I told you no deadmau5 on the train. No you didn't. I should have. I SHOULD HAVE KILLED THAT THING WHEN I SAW IT. How would you do that? THE DEADMAUS Go to sleep. K. Did you guys “Earth” Uh, yeah, but– Was it awesome? Uhm, no. No, dude. Why, what happened? We don't know. It was bad. “Adventure is allowing the unexpected to happen to you. Exploration is experiencing what you have not experienced before.” — Richard Aldington Schenectady Ahahaha Poughkeepsie lol what. All these are places. Yeah, I know. People live in these places . Oh My God. What. Where's Whole Foods? You need Jesus. Where's he at? JESUS CHRIST Timmy, this party is lit. TIMMY TURNER Yeah, thanks bro. JESUS CHRIST I love you. TIMMY TURNER (Leaving) K that's weird. IT DOESN'T What . MAKE ANY SENSE. I simulated this experience, in the construct of time In the confines of space—just to have this moment. Uh. Train—-To Deadmau5. [BLŪ Exercises Furiously] Train—To Deadmau5. [BLŪ boards the train hurriedly] SOMETIMES— UGH. I'm all wrapped up; Wrapped up in your love –But you never come for me I'm all wrapped up in your love Wonder what comes of it You never come for me I'm all wrapped up in your love; A half smile on my face; (l love you) Always thinking of you What else can I do, but To fee stupid Can't get over you, but As the sun comes up, I wander off, Remember us I guess it's a long walk Guess i'll just fall out of it About time… About that– I'm all wrapped up, yeah Wrapped up in your love Sonny Moore had inspired some of the greatest things i had ever written in my time; and all with just one look–two eyes, and no words at all, began an infinite unravelling of words from God's hands and into my minds eye. ASCENSION Rise of Ascencia Farro. …Your Majesty. I need help. Don't burden me with your woes. I beg your pardon? No, don't beg. THE SUITE LIFE OF SUNNÏ BLŪ LINDSAY LOHAN is sleeping FACE DOWN on the couch in SunnÏ Blū's Studio Lindsay, wake up. Mmfh. [Does not wake up. At all.] Lindsay. Mmf. Tequila. [Suddenly very awake, in fact; she has suddenly perked up with an amazing glow. ] *very serious knocks on the door* Oh shit. [suddenly, more drunk again] –oh shit. *three more knocks* Where's the tequila? SUNNÏ Ah, shit. Is that your lawyer, or your manager? Shit, maybe both. SUNNI. OPEN THE DOOR . –Might even be my agent, too. OPEN THE GODDAMN DOOR. (Both, in cheesy unison, tiny rock concert} I CHIMED IN WITH A HAVENT YOU PEOPLE EVER HEARD OF— [Sunni opens the door.] No, it's “closing the door– not “open the door” “The Goddamn door.” Right, Goddamit. –where's the tequila. Where it is– [Sunni points in a wayward direction; Lindsay stumbles morning-aftery into the booth. Eww–”morning aftery” Not like that. *addendum* [That Is, just to say that this scene takes place in the afterdays haze of a very –Very Holy Shit , God. What. You rule. [Lindsay enters the booth and uncaps a bottle of tequila so effing fancy, it hurts to look at.] So fucking fancy. Was that lindsay lohan? Yeah it is. It's still Linsday Lohan, Morgen– –It's ‘Morgan”; –She's just over there now. Not “was”. Still is Lindsay Lohan. Presently. How are you even friends. FLASHBACK SUNNI BLU sup, Lindsay Lohan! LINDSAY LOHAN sup. Who are you? SUNNI BLU I'm Sunni Blū. LINDSAY LOHAN LIKE—the rapper?! SUNNI BLU Not “like”. Am. LINDSAY LOHAN tight. SUNNI BLU. Sup. LINDSAY LOHAN Sup. SUNNI BLU I heard you like to party. LINDSAY LOHAN I like to party. SUNNI BLU —and, you DJ. LINDSAY LOHAN Oh yeah, huh! I was a DJ once. SUNNI BLU so was I. CUT BACK TO: SUNNI BLU now we're besties. I might be trapped in this hell, here, I figure But it's over when it's over, I cannot live here, Or anywhere Here's my liver; All he needed was a sliver, the silver lizard But I gave him the whole thing The whole thing The whole thing I swallowed the whole world whole, once And now it all happens, Over and over; A simple digestion And I've got no questions left No intuition, either No black characters, No brown eyes; I hate my life I hate my life Blonde is good, And redheads are nice; I hate my life I hate my life ‘Rich white peope are so fucking nasty sometimes' I had the best and the worst of it at Equinox, and while I considered it a miracle that I had even come so far, as to consider luxury fitness a priority and absolute necessity, even forgoing eating what I wanted or other comforts in paying my gym dues, now I had given myself what I thought to be the opportunity of a lifetime—it was on my bucket list, at least last time I checked, to visit Equinox in every city the chain had locations—and having put all my time and every fiber of my being into just ‘staying afloat', my idea of ‘living a little' was to workout as much as possible, while I still could—-as money was well beyond running dry just out or the sheer expense of traveling—or now—“touring”, as I would consider it, using my music as a means of not appearing homeless and destitute, and using my podcast as a medium for its promotion—though, I still didn't know where my listeners or downloads were coming from, and my Spotify, the last I had checked, had “0 monthly listeners” it was beginning again to be clear how much the United States hated black people, for whatever reason— and how privelege and power had overtaken even the best people's better senses. Humanity was slipping away—and so was I; the best I could do was to make my body as comfortable to live in as possible, and for whatever reason, I was drawn to Equinox to do so. Anandar or someone like her had once said, the key to being rich, is to spend money like you're rich, no matter the amount of money you had—knowing that in doing so, your money would multiply tenfold. I had never done so before, but between Equinox and my food stamps being stolen, the amount of money I had been draining myself of did indeed make me feel and look as if I had endless disposable income—and perhaps I did somehow—somewhere in the near future , if I could just convince myself I really was as special as my writing made me seem, or feel, simply reading it myself, or having chosen a carefully select few to read it. I was, indeed, a genius: the problem was, geniuses and writers particularly up to then had been notoriously famous for dying alone, penniless and undiscovered, and very often—by our own hands. Eleven since, I left Hell, and been in Heaven since I'm heaven sent I burn incense —A CROSS DIMENSIONAL PARALLEL REALITY. The taste of bile filled my mouth and sat on the back of my tongue as I tried to avoid the inevitability of swallowing it; it had all been worth it—the train to Hollywood had not altogether been as horrible as it usually was on The Expo—and as I rode 9 stops exactly into my old stomping grounds, I exited the Hollywood and Vine metro station to a nostalgic and familiar territory; this is where my Hollywood story had started, and had apparently yet to end, as I swept the Walk of Fame in a way I supposed I never had, the shadow of my old self following not behind, but directly overhead; I was, indeed, just a ghost. I ended up at Amoeba Music, hair dripping wet, and, though I had yet to eat in a couple of days, not feeling as if I had quite done a proper workout, rushed in the final hour to Hollywood, as the downtown location had been closed; Fine by me, as I was over and done with the downtown atmosphere altogether, and though I wasn't a particular fan of the new Amoeba Music location, I had felt a close calling to go to Hollywood that day, even before I knew I would have to—and ending up there anyway seemed to be another synchronicity indeed. ‘Spend it on something you love.' The voice had said, perhaps just my own—but not sounding anything at all like my own internal dialogue. No, this voice seemed entirely more divine, and so I took it as such, and was careful not to spend any of the carefully collected and specially marked dollar bills on anything I absolutely didn't love—and though I was terrified of the overall outcome of everything—now jobless, or rather, without secured income—my job having become myself in the process of writing, making music, and improving my physique to its peak performance and physical fitness, I had been careful not to spend any money at all on anything I absolutely didn't need. However, I did need music after all, and loved it more than anything, besides my own son—who did at least ask about me, after all, according to my estranged ex, who I had shielded myself from entirely, changing my name, my number, and my location for my own safety and peace of mind, rather than for aesthetic reasons, as anyone might have thought. But really, no one might have thought at all, as I was careful to leave everyone and everything behind that had come with my birth name, besides my father, my son, and my beloved Auntie, who I still allowed to call me “Cree”, though I had at least hinted at at an aycronym of my new name, giving her my address in case of emergency, or any other reason. But, I hadn't enough money to pay my mailbox, and so even that was irrelevant, as everything was. Suicide By Cop. Maybe. Idk. Look: the tinier you are—the bigger my dick seems. I get it. So be tiny. I like cereal. I like cake. I like cookies. I like shakes. So you know what. What. That's okay. REAPER Give me my scythe, Billie. BILLIE ELLISH It's a miniature scythe. REAPER Yeah—my—miniature scythe. BILLIE ELLISH It's mine now. REAPER No, it's not— BILLIE ELLISH But—you gave it to me. REAPER It came with the job. BILLIE ELLISH The job sucked! REAPER I know that! “LIL' BITZ” I'm just mildly concerned that LAPD squad cars are still 1995 crown Vic's. Like: how do you even catch sometime in a mazzerati? The guy who drives a mazzeratti's like: hah. You don't. You know what it is You know what it is— You know what it is That's the business Comin in hot, like a chicken wing This ain't Toy Story—got no friend in me, You feelin me? Cold as Minnesota, I'm the ice queen Nice bling— Hollywood should buy this bitch a wedding ring Amphetamine Trick, you're a half, I'm the whole thing Whole Foods market, gotta own me No mink coat, I'm a vegan, Hocus Pocus, I'm three witches Okay, from the top Hello? This is Hollywood calling; We want the festival project We just wrote up the contract Come get your deposit: You're nominated for an Oscar Your Star On The Walk looks Awesome it's On Us Yeah? That's what's up I'll come up I'll come up I'll come up Say what's up That's my shite; I'm rep in the festival project Ya'll like “what's that?” I'll tel you all about it,—that's Coming up next Oh yeah, Oh yeah Tune in I'm On Welcome to your Hollywood life The good life Good life Welcome to the Hollywood life That's right That's right Welcome to your Hollywood life The good life Good life Welcome to the Hollywood life That's right That's right They call me young Hollywood, They robbed me good in Santa Monica And I so I got no address yet; But I'm coming up like one direction I just checked my reflection like: Mirror mirror on the wall I gotta go Hollywood's callin And I don't do this often Only when o bless the red carpet Comin in hot, like a chicken wing Call me Toy Story— got a friend in me, You feelin me? On the big screen livin out my dreams, I wrote my scenes, the Hollywood life: I neee I ride by On a tomeline I write, I like My nice things. The life I lead, Is ritghteous, I defy my means Applied IT, I might be AI, Fine my me; Cause all I see Is light I like, And I'm liking my Hollywood life, I think. It's just some Hollywood shit Isn't it fabulous This is some Hollywood shiy Isn't it fabulous You know what it is You know what it is— You know what it is That's the business One door close. Then another door opens So sick flow, go home with a cold then Woah, Hoe—cold like some snow boots Pants so big, I can parachute (PARIS SHOOT) Hoes look fake, like a blow up doll Harlem shake, i'm bout to blow up ya'll We think we may have found your home planet. Oh, you think? Look at this. [DUFF views the distant soarkling object through the telescope lens, squinting.] Is that it?! I don't know… [Suddenly, as DIFF begins to focus on the planet; a high pitched ring only DUFF seems to hear strikes her away from the telescope, writhing in pain.] Woah, what happened?! Are you okay?! Is she okay?! [DUFF falls into a coma] What, no way. WhT is this. It's a show. WhTs it called. Idk. Shut up. You shut up. I'm watching —shhh! Call the doctor! MEANWHILE, IN HOLLYWOOD Girl. Hm. Look at these motherfuckets* Ooh, keep that. Wow. Huh. The entire reason for turning on my phone was to write about that experience. Which experience? I don't know, I've had like ten experiences since I walked into that door—and I wanted to write about all of them. Uh huh. But I lost it. You lost it? Not all of it. Well. Some of it. Which ones did you keep? The Good ones Oh shit, it's almost coming back to me Uh. First of all. —French people in love are cute. What. That shit is literally the cutest thing ever. French people—in love—speaking French. That shit is sexy Did you see his eyes? That's okay, Cree— I ‘That'll be enough. Ugh. Now, class— It's time for a sonnet, or synonym Senators, gentlemen— Get in your rhythm and trip to this; Cause it's about to get lit again: Call me illiterate, ignorant, negligent; Never irrelevant, disheveled or leveled since, This entrance is Heaven sent Evidence of everlasting natural intelligence That'll do. Okay. Let's break fast, I make gas, And bake snacks; I lay facts I slay slacks I'm maybacks You may ask Questions about the lesson, With a raised hand —okay class? . . . Oh— You forgot it was a lesson? Let me reflect and inspect, Resurrect the message just a bit— I'm the profession, If I ask, They answer “Yessir” I guess, er Thet yur just a jester Dunce hat on your ass Last, and rhe past semester, Ask my sweater: Your girl would probably wear it If I let her Oooh. Equinox+ (EP) Love brings me out of my shell; —I could love you, I I could love you, I Could love you, I Could love you, I love you I love you, I This isn't good for my health; If you don't love me,oh well — (I could love you, I) This is just passing the time, Count my dimes and, I'm wealthy, you build me up Shining, I wake you up Diamond of mine, I love you, I Love you I Do what I want most the time, Cause nothing else matters but Making you mine I, so what I want most the time I can't get out Out of my mind, Cause I love you I love you I, Wasting my time, I could love you but Nevermind Drunk, And I'm stumbling up to my apartment for The 30th time this month, My rent's due tomorrow, but I got it, Woah, I've got just enough Just to keep fuxkin up Getting fucked up And filling my cup Like it's something, But it's nothing, Not really Nothing, Not really Be good Work it out Come on Work it odd Be good Shake it off Work it out Come on Be good, Work it off, Work it out— Come on Be good Work it out Shake it off Come on — We all know There's a monster in there And it wants let out; All man, beware— Yeah We all know There's a monster in her— And, Someone will let it go Oh, Someone let it go Oh, no (oh yeah) Oh, no That's no good That's no good Oh no (Oh yeah) Oh no (Oh yeah!) No, no You just had to let it go You just had to let it go Oh, no! — I need time To rationalize my genius I can't write light this Alt right all white nationalists I can fantazize, right? I could die like this It's a damn good life What fucking time is it, anyway? Right? I can't rationalize, this Fascist rats at The Fashion district Bam, I had it— I had to get right, man I had to get God on my Mantras I fucked up tomorrow, I'm off in Toronto with problems And dogma— Who's dog is this Tied up at the Whole Foods market I tried it, I died in the in I can't idolize idols, man Cry, though, Dip my bicoff in Chiapas coffee All pissed off, Woah It's the wrong morning to wallow in Caught me off guard at the offering Sha, there's no mother here, No other one, You're wrong God, I stopped to cross at all of them, I suffered when I swallowed, Rah, What's wrong? I'm feeling solemn on my sodomist Wishes of This centrifugal —‘swimming with the fishes, Get it? Woah, It's a whole open world of Wizards and witches I wish I could ditch this —the center or attention is this city— That's Alex Tribec, for the record Fuck the TriBeCa fest Rest in Los Angeles Rest in peace Barbra Hah— I've got all of em This is an awful lot of mantras, Stars and Stripes. God; I lost it at the Oscar's, Turn me on, or off I'm all of it Or not What was the cost of this? An awful lot of mantras, stars, And crosswalks, To stop dead in the center of “I'm miserable That's Hollywood for you, God, That's Hollywood, That's where we dropped you off — Have you had enough, yet? How was is? Enough! I'm not even fully up yet! Fuck, It was loveless, All up in ashes, I told ya, That “fun is a friend of the devil “ Burn in sense, Just rub out the sense Have my lips on your hips, Just rotate, As the earth did, In difference, she has Impatience is his imperfection “Eventually,” She says, “I'll see him” He tends to agree, Within reason— Winter breezes and freedom, This season Envy leaves, But she's gonna get even Come in threes, And maybe, We'll see then. Come to the surface, Come up— Don't give up yet Give what you've got; Half a lung, And the other is under— Come on, Come up, Come all— Come, you're walking on water! No wonder they call for you On earth — (We've got a Hot One, for you) Have you ever wondered What's wrong with us all? Fuck— Hollywood's calling, I don't have my phone on me Hollywood called, But your voice Mail is full, What? I finally picked up; The message at the tone, Was in Morse code Billy fit the Playbill, I signed it “usnavi” Yo, You look just like me A sacrifice? A sacrifice, I said, I'm red, I'm jealous like I've never been That's right, blue eyes then Next lifetime Fu— They robbed me of all my art As a hobby Worshipped for All I've got Not a god yet, but Gotta be working on something That's all of it, Gotta be knocking it off, Full of gossip and God, I want love But it's not in the cards, huh New Joan Of Ark, Where's the war That you wanted Not enough talk, But I've done enough walking Gosh, Two thumbs up, All applause from the audience That what you wanted? Yeah! “God I want love but it's not in the cards yet” That's what you wanted? Yeah! That's what you wanted 10.60 2.94 7.75 Strange things happen when you change your vibration to Skrillex. It had been a fucking disasterous 24 hours l; not that I hadn't expected it to be, with Vegas in mind as the shithole capitol of the world, or at least the US, which was indeed turning to shit. Street after street filled with bodies, nearly dead but not—and not a care in the world at all by anyone who could help for the working class, nearly succumbed to poverty, or the homeless, by the millions in numbers rather than the mere thousands the false media portrayed as still an absolute crisis and state of emergency, however downplaying the numbers by millions, as they had already learned that the docile American public could be persuaded or made to move with numbers by the “pandemic”, a fear mongering new world order which had proved that almost no Americans could do math, or anything besides scroll and take selfies. GUESS WHAT DAY IT IS. Oh no. Not Skrillex Day, is it—? ITS SKRILLRX DAY, BIIITCH. Ugh. Fuck Yeah, you lil bitch. I'm spaced out, listing to Skrillex on sunset No shuffle I forgot about this one: It makes my lips numb This bitch dumb I'. Just a number! I don't really give a fuck ! If I had a Benz and blunt— I'd prob'ly roll my windows up Sunni with da big butt Come and get ya duck sucked I would say sunni blū But then I'd probably get some Crips up Ignorant indigenous ninjer Bendit like bender remember Send er a message when you get here Mister Fuck, I hate this. RULES OF TRAVEL ENTER THE MULTIVERSE SEASON 6 - ACT II I almost left my Elfbar in Raton, But I couldn't let go; It just held on. I had to leave my skateboard back at home , But now I'm gone. Now i'm gone Now I'm sick to my stomach, I didn't want this Now I'm so sick to my stomach; I didn't want it And all the non believers, And all the sinners, saints together on a train, wishing to be rich or famous; Freedom, Plain and simple *very scary music* I warned you; No bloodshed in LA. [A single drop of blood hits the pavement with a splash, in a vivid slow motion close up of the gritty Downto Los Angeles sidewalk] FLASHBACK; Have you ever heard of a blood oath? I knew something was wrong with that girl. It's not just that girl; It's this place. People do a lot of things to get by in LA. What is “get by” You're never gonna make it Well, then; I was never going to anyway–so it really doesn't matter. gal·lant adjective 1.(of a person or their behavior) brave; heroic."she had made gallant efforts to pull herself together" Similar: brave courageous valiant valorous bold plucky daring fearless intrepid heroic lionhearted stouthearted doughty mettlesome great-spirited honorable noble manly manful macho dashing daredevil death-or-glory undaunted unflinching unshrinking unafraid dauntless indomitable gutsy spunky ballsy have-a-go venturous Opposite: cowardly 2.(of a man or his behavior) giving special attention and respect to women; chivalrous."a gallant gentleman came over and kissed my hand" Similar: chivalrous gentlemanly courtly courteous respectful polite attentive gracious considerate thoughtful obliging mannerly gentle Opposite: discourteous rude nounARCHAIC /ɡəˈlant,ɡəˈlänt/ a man who pays special attention to women."he launches himself into a gallant's career of amorous intrigue" Similar: suitor wooer admirer worshipper beau sweetheart lover love beloved boyfriend young man man friend escort swain paramour verbARCHAIC /ɡəˈlant,ɡəˈlänt/ (of a man) flirt with (a woman)."Mowbray was gallanting the Polish lady" Gee' Moo had his hands all over me, which made me uncomfortable—but I had sworn solemnly to myself never to ‘tell' on any man again—and neither would I call them out, or make objections to their actions in any way; the age told story had always been ‘her word against mine ‘, making the woman or victim in question appear weak, and of course, untrustworthy—whatever that meant anyway, and not that any of his attempts were hostile, He knew I was openly celibate, and supposedly respected that—however, I just found it best to wholly keep him in the friend zone and keep the notion to myself, as he still seemed to have some kind of hope for something greater between us—and though I did consider him more than a friend, I considered him more like family than anything, his own blurred lines a shadow that had become too great to perhaps any longer be colegues—at least for now—especially that I was fleeing the US once more in complete secrecy—and though there had been some good work between the two of us, I wasn't equalling to his vibration anymore, his music sounded strange and off, and the words that would come to my mind were less easy than pushed or forced, and repetitive in sound and style. I knew that I was leaving, but had refused to tell anybody, especially Gee', who may have raised questions as to where I was going—something that seemed to be good to keep quiet entirely, as even earlier in the day I had tried to give my tour list to Equinox to see if I could bypass upgrading my membership to Destination by giving them a list of dates and cities I would visit and being given access to the visitors list in each city—I was however persuaded into not doing so and keeping my Desrination Stetus, as after attempting to give my home club my list of cities and dates, even against my own instinct and better judgement, the manager dawned a look in his eye that said “just lay low”, and as low as I could lay, I didn't know how long it would last with the onslaught of things I would have to do on my phone and computer over wifi during the long traveling time. Still, I wanted to travel lightly—and perhaps it was Divine intervention itself in the form of God when my $80 Nike backpack broke, leaving me scurrying for a new one that I could afford simply with the remaining balance on my gift card—luckily, I did find one that presumably fit my needs available for pickup, of course, even less high quality than the oversized “training” bag I had purchased just a few months before, not realizing that 32 Liters would be more than enough space, hard to fit under an airplane seat, and Ill-fitting the more petite I would become, or even as my weight fluctuated, just awkward looking in general—and though it was a very attractive bag, I had always thought it to be a little too ‘loud' and ostentatious, though I had become attracted somehow after being unable to return it as I had thought to when I had first ordered it, receiving the bag just before leaving Las Vegas, which I would return to the following day to retrieve the drum machine I had pawned as a matter of absolute survival. The best part about riding the train is… CUT TO: A firey plane crash CUT BACK TO You can't fall out of the sky. (Ya.) SHIA LA— Fuck it. SHIA IS “THE AIR MARSHALL” Ohh, what's this one about? Oh my God. I wasn't writing, and so I must have been in some way dead-I wasn't feeling even a whisp of inspiration, anymore—only annoyance, and slight suffering. The train to chugs I had gone all too quickly, and though I had started chipping away at some projects, there was nothing finished. Though the inhuman vibration and hostile tone of LA was long behind me, something did linger on a bit, perhaps in the form of love or some other feeling or attachment I had formed during my time there. I was, myself, vibrating differently— waving into a motion of the unknown, and not that it mattered what would happen anymore—I hadn't anything to love, or anything to lose, and so everything just seemed a wash entirely. I had never been so dejected in my life. Now I gotta do some Sunnï Blū shit. —Hurry. Hurry what. We gotta go, Oh. Oh Deng. Oh dang. What happened? No, that's just what planet they're from. Dang. That's tricky. New York— Ehrhm. You look good. Hm. You cleaned up. Ya. Nice. Yeah it is. Nice. I said that.. Stop incepting me. No. Stop this please please. Just stop sleeping. Okay. I wish you would die. I just did. WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE. idobntknow. SUNNI BLŪ I DO WHAT I WANT. Fuck, What. That's sunni Blu Okay? She does what she wants. That's not supacree Is it not? No. What happened? S/he chanxed. I'm a “they” –And this is how it all makes sense. What is this fucking place. “East” Ugh. Oh, there's Toronto. That makes sense. Ew. I know right. UGH. LOOK AT ALL THIS POOP. I know, huh. LOOK AT IT. Don't do maps on kx5. Should we “Earth” We should Earth. Ew. What dimension is this? Fucking sick–gross. This isnt Earth. This is Earth! What happened to it. *coughs* It seems some demonic force has taken over. *coughs* Ew. This is fucked up. Should we leave. NO! *coughs* I mean –yeah, but we should at least try to figure out what happened first. *coughs* First?! Or, later–maybe *coughs*coughs*coughs* Yeah, lets leave. FUCK. What, dude, guh I told you no deadmau5 on the train. No you didn't. I should have. I SHOULD HAVE KILLED THAT THING WHEN I SAW IT. How would you do that? THE DEADMAUS Go to sleep. K. Did you guys “Earth” Uh, yeah, but– Was it awesome? Uhm, no. No, dude. Why, what happened? We don't know. It was bad. “Adventure is allowing the unexpected to happen to you. Exploration is experiencing what you have not experienced before.” — Richard Aldington Schenectady Ahahaha Poughkeepsie lol what. All these are places. Yeah, I know. People live in these places . Oh My God. What. Where's Whole Foods? You need Jesus. Where's he at? JESUS CHRIST Timmy, this party is lit. TIMMY TURNER Yeah, thanks bro. JESUS CHRIST I love you. TIMMY TURNER (eaving) K that's weird. IT DOESN”T. What . MAKE ANY SENSE. I simulated this experience, in the construct of time In the confines of time and space—just to have this moment. Uh. Train—-To Deadmau5. [BLŪ Exercises Furiously] Train—To Deadmau5. [BLŪ boards the train hurriedly] SOMETIMES— I'm all wrapped up; Wrapped up in your love –But you never come for me I'm all wrapped up in your love Wonder what comes of it You never come for me I'm all wrapped up in your love; A half smile on my face; (l love you) Always thinking of you What else can I do, but To fee stupid Can't get over you, but As the sun comes up, I wander off, Remember us I guess it's a long walk Guess i'll just fall out of it About time… About that– I'm all wrapped up, yeah Wrapped up in your love Sonny Moore had inspired some of the greatest thing i had ever written in my time; and all with just one look–two eyes, and no words at all, began an infinite unravelling of words from God's hands and into my minds eye. Farro. …Your Majesty. I need help. Don't burden me with your woes. I beg your pardon? No, don't beg. LINDSAY LOHAN is sleeping FACE DOWN on the couch in SunnÏ Blū's Studio Lindsay, wake up. Mmfh. [Does not wake up. At all.] Lindsay. Mmf. Tequila. [Suddenly very awake, in fact; she has suddenly perked up with an amazing glow. ] *very serious knocks on the door* Oh shit. [suddenly, more drunk again] –oh shit. *three more knocks* Where's the tequila? SUNNÏ Ah, shit. Is that your lawyer, or your manager? Shit, maybe both. SUNNI. OPEN THE DOOR . –Might even be my agent, too. OPEN THE GODDAMN DOOR. (Both, in cheesy unison, tiny rock concert} I CHIMED IN WITH A HAVENT YOU PEOPLE EVER HEARD OF [Sunni opens the door. No, it's “closing the door– not “open the door” “The Goddamn door.” Right, Goddamit. –where's the tequila. Where it is– [Sunni points in a wayward direction; Lindsay stumbles morning-aftery into the booth. Eww–”morning aftery” Not like that. *addendum* [That Is, just to say that this scene takes place in the afterdays haze of a very –Very Holy Shit , God. What. You rule. [Lindsay enters the booth and uncaps a bottle of tequila so effing fancy, it hurts to look at.] So fucking fancy. Was that lindsay lohan? Yeah it is. It's still lindsay logan, Morgen– –It's ‘Morgan” –She's just over there now. Not “was” How are you even friends. FLASHBACK SUNNI BLU sup, Lindsay Lohan! LINDSAY LOHAN sup. Who are you? SUNNI BLU I'm Sunni Blū LINDSAY LOHAN LIKE—the rapper. SUNNI BLU Not “like”. Am. LINDSAY LOHAN tight. SUNNI BLU. Sup. LINDSAY LOHAN Sup. SUNNI BLU I heard you like to party. LINDSAY LOHAN I like to party. SUNNI BLU —and, you DJ. LINDSAY LOHAN Oh yeah, huh! I was a DJ once. SUNNI BLU so was I. CUT BACK TO: SUNNI BLU now we're besties. I might be trapped in this hell, here, I figure But it's over when it's over, I cannot live here, Or anywhere Here's my liver; All he needed was a sliver, the silver lizard But I have him the whole thing The whole thing The whole thing I swallowed the whole world whole, once And now it all happens, Over and over; A simple digestion And I've got no questions left No intuition, either No black characters, No brown eyes; I hate my life I hate my life Blonde is good, And redheads are nice; I hate my life I hate my life ‘Rich white peope are so fucking nasty sometimes' I had the best and the worst of it at Equinox, and while I considered it a miracle that I had even come so far, as to consider luxury fitness a priority and absolute necessity, even forgoing eating what I wanted or other comforts in paying my gym dues, now I had given myself what I thought to be the opportunity of a lifetime—it was on my bucket list, at least last time I checked, to visit Equinox in every city the chain had locations—and having put all my time and every fiber of my being into just ‘staying afloat', my idea of ‘living a little' was to workout as much as possible, while I still could—-as money was well beyond running dry just out or the sheer expense of traveling—or now—“touring”, as I would consider it, using my music as a means of not appearing homeless and destitute, and using my podcast as a medium for its promotion—though, I still didn't know where my listeners or downloads were coming from, and my Spotify, the last I had checked, had “0 monthly listeners” it was beginning again to be clear how much the United States hated black people, for whatever reason— and how privelege and power had overtaken even the best people's better senses. Humanity was slipping away—and so was I; the best I could do was to make my body as comfortable to live in as possible, and for whatever reason, I was drawn to Equinox to do so. Anandar or someone like her had once said, the key to being rich, is to spend money like you're rich, no matter the amount of money you had—knowing that in doing so, your money would multiply tenfold. I had never done so before, but between Equinox and my food stamps being stolen, the amount of money I had been draining myself of did indeed make me feel and look as if I had endless disposable income—and perhaps I did somehow—somewhere in the near future , if I could just convince myself I really was as special as my writing made me seem, or feel, simply reading it myself, or having chosen a carefully select few to read it. I was, indeed, a genius: the problem was, geniuses and writers particularly up to then had been notoriously famous for dying alone, penniless and undiscovered, and very often—by our own hands. Eleven since, I left Hell, and been in Heaven since I'm heaven sent I burn incense The taste of bile filled my mouth and sat on the back of my tongue as I tried to avoid the inevitability of swallowing it; it had all been worth it—the train to Hollywood had not altogether been as horrible as it usually was on The Expo—and as I rode 9 stops exactly into my old stomping grounds, I exited the Hollywood and Vine metro station to a nostalgic and familiar territory; this is where my Hollywood story had started, and had apparently yet to end, as I swept the Walk of Fame in a way I supposed I never had, the shadow of my old self following not behind, but directly overhead; I was, indeed, just a ghost. I ended up at Amoeba Music, hair dripping wet, and, though I had yet to eat in a couple of days, not feeling as if I had quite done a proper workout, rushed in the final hour to Hollywood, as the downtown location had been closed; Fine by me, as I was over and done with the downtown atmosphere altogether, and though I wasn't a particular fan of the new Amoeba Music location, I had felt a close calling to go to Hollywood that day, even before I knew I would have to—and ending up there anyway seemed to be another synchronicity indeed. ‘Spend it on something you love.' The voice had said, perhaps just my own—but not sounding anything at all like my own internal dialogue. No, this voice seemed entirely more divine, and so I took it as such, and was careful not to spend any of the carefully collected and specially marked dollar bills on anything I absolutely didn't love—and though I was terrified of the overall outcome of everything—now jobless, or rather, without secured income—my job having become myself in the process of writing, making music, and improving my physique to its peak performance and physical fitness, I had been careful not to spend any money at all on anything I absolutely didn't need. However, I did need music after all, and loved it more than anything, besides my own son—who did at least ask about me, after all, according to my estranged ex, who I had shielded myself from entirely, changing my name, my number, and my location for my own safety and peace of mind, rather than for aesthetic reasons, as anyone might have thought. But really, no one might have thought at all, as I was careful to leave everyone and everything behind that had come with my birth name, besides my father, my son, and my beloved Auntie, who I still allowed to call me “Cree”, though I had at least hinted at at an aycronym of my new name, giving her my address in case of emergency, or any other reason. But, I hadn't enough money to pay my mailbox, and so even that was irrelevant, as everything was. Look: the tinier you are—the bigger my dick seems. I get it. So be tiny. I like cereal. I like cake. I like cookies. I like shakes. So you know what. What. That's okay. REAPER Give me my scythe, Billie. BILLIE ELLISH It's a miniature scythe. REAPER Yeah—my—miniature scythe. BILLIE ELLISH It's mine now. REAPER No, it's not— BILLIE ELLISH But—you gave it to me. REAPER It came with the job. BILLIE ELLISH The job sucked! REAPER I know that! I'm just mildly concerned that LAPD squad cars are still 1995 crown Vic's. Like: how do you even catch sometime in a mazzerati? The guy who drives a mazzeratti's like: hah. You don't. You know what it is You know what it is— You know what it is That's the business Comin in hot, like a chicken wing This ain't Toy Story—got no friend in me, You feelin me? Cold as Minnesota, I'm the ice queen Nice bling— Hollywood should buy this bitch a wedding ring Amohetemime Trick, you're a half, I'm the whole thing Whole Foods market, gotta own me No mink coat, I'm a vegan, Hocus Pocus, I'm three witches Okay, from the top Hello? This is Hollywood calling; We want the festival project We just wrote up the contract Come get your deposit: You're nominated for an Oscar Your Star On The Walk looks Awesome it's On Us Yeah? That's what's up I'll come up I'll come up I'll come up Say what's up That's my shite; I'm rep in the festival project Ya'll like “what's that?” I'll tel you all about it,—that's Coming up next Oh yeah, Oh yeah Tune in I'm On Welcome to your Hollywood life The good life Good life Welcome to the Hollywood life That's right That's right Welcome to your Hollywood life The good life Good life Welcome to the Hollywood life That's right That's right They call me young Hollywood, They robbed me good in Santa Monica And I so I got no address yet; But I'm coming up like one direction I just checked my reflection like: Mirror mirror on the wall I gotta go Hollywood's callin And I don't do this often Only when o bless the red carpet Comin in hot, like a chicken wing Call me Toy Story— got a friend in me, You feelin me? On the big screen livin out my dreams, I wrote my scenes, the Hollywood life: I neee I ride by On a tomeline I write, I like My nice things. The life I lead, Is ritghteous, I defy my means Applied IT, I might be AI, Fine my me; Cause all I see Is light I like, And I'm liking my Hollywood life, I think. Nice bling— Hollywood should buy this bitch a wedding ring Amohetemime Trick, you're a half, I'm the whole thing Whole Foods market, gotta own me No mink coat, I'm a vegan, Hocus Pocus, I'm three witches It's just some Hollywood shit Isn't it fabulous This is some Hollywood shiy Isn't it fabulous Comin in hot, like a chicken wing This ain't Toy Story—got no friend in me, You feelin me? Cold as Minnesota, I'm the ice queen Nice bling— Hollywood should buy this bitch a wedding ring Amohetemime Trick, you're a half, I'm the whole thing Whole Foods market, gotta own me No mink coat, I'm a vegan, Hocus Pocus, I'm three witches You know what it is You know what it is— You know what it is That's the business One door close. Then another door opens So sick flow, go home with a cold then Woah, Hoe—cold like some snow boots Pants so big, I can parachutes Hoes look fake, like a blow up doll Harlem shake, i'm bout to blow up ya'll We think we may have found your home planet. Oh, you think? Look at this'd [DUFF views the distant soarkling object through the telescope lens, squinting.] Is that it?! I don't know… [Suddenly, as DIFF begins to focus on the planet; a high pitched ring only DUFF seems to hear strikes her away from the telescope, writhing in pain.] Woah, what happened?! Are you okay?! Is she okay?! [DUFF falls into a coma] What, no way. WhT is this. It's a show. WhTs it called. Idk. Shut up. You shut up. I'm watching —shhh! Call the doctor! DUFF! What's your name again? …Are you serious? No, I'm kidding. (No, I actually forgot what I named this character) I think it's “Joel” I doubt that. What was it. Idk, moving on. …did you forget? Yeah, I forgot. It's okay! Yeah, I guess. We found you!! Yeah. Sorry we destroyed the planet— —only like half. It's totally destroyed. It was like that before you guys landed. —? Just Trust me. Why does it look like somebody turned you upside down? I was “paralyzed” What's that mean? It happens here. That sounds horrible. This place sucks. It's really far. Girl. Hm. Look at these motherfuckets* Ooh, keep that. Wow. Huh. The entire reason for turning on my phone was to write about that experience. Which experience? I don't know, I've had like ten experiences since I walked into that door—and I wanted to write about all of them. Uh huh. But I lost it. You lost it? Not all of it. Well. Some of it. Which ones did you keep? The Good ones Oh shit, it's almost coming back to me Uh. First of all. —French people in love are cute. What. That shit is literally the cutest thing ever. French people—in love—speaking French. That shit is sexy Did you see his eyes? That's okay, Cree— I ‘That'll be enough. Ugh. Now, class— It's time for a sonnet, or synonym Senators, gentlemen— Get in your rhythm and trip to this; Cause it's about to get lit again: Call me illiterate, ignorant, negligent; Never irrelevant, disheveled or leveled since, This entrance is Heaven sent Evidence of everlasting natural intelligence That'll do. Okay. Let's break fast, I make gas, And bake snacks; I lay facts I slay slacks I'm maybacks You may ask Questions about the lesson, With a raised hand —okay class? . . . Oh— You forgot it was a lesson? Let me reflect and inspect, Resurrect the message just a bit— I'm the profession, If I ask, They answer “Yessir” I guess, er Thet yur just a jester Dunce hat on your ass Last, and rhe past semester, Ask my sweater: Your girl would probably wear it If I let her Oooh. Equinox+ (EP) Love brings me out of my shell; —I could love you, I I could love you, I Could love you, I Could love you, I love you I love you, I This isn't good for my health; If you don't love me,oh well — (I could love you, I) This is just passing the time, Count my dimes and, I'm wealthy, you build me up Shining, I wake you up Diamond of mine, I love you, I Love you I Do what I want most the time, Cause nothing else matters but Making you mine I, so what I want most the time I can't get out Out of my mind, Cause I love you I love you I, Wasting my time, I could love you but Nevermind Drunk, And I'm stumbling up to my apartment for The 30th time this month, My rent's due tomorrow, but I got it, Woah, I've got just enough Just to keep fuxkin up Getting fucked up And filling my cup Like it's something, But it's nothing, Not really Nothing, Not really Be good Work it out Come on Work it odd Be good Shake it off Work it out Come on Be good, Work it off, Work it out— Come on Be good Work it out Shake it off Come on — We all know There's a monster in there And it wants let out; All man, beware— Yeah We all know There's a monster in her— And, Someone will let it go Oh, Someone let it go Oh, no (oh yeah) Oh, no That's no good That's no good Oh no (Oh yeah) Oh no (Oh yeah!) No, no You just had to let it go You just had to let it go Oh, no! — I need time To rationalize my genius I can't write light this Alt right all white nationalists I can fantazize, right? I could die like this It's a damn good life What fucking time is it, anyway? Right? I can't rationalize, this Fascist rats at The Fashion district Bam, I had it— I had to get right, man I had to get God on my Mantras I fucked up tomorrow, I'm off in Toronto with problems And dogma— Who's dog is this Tied up at the Whole Foods market I tried it, I died in the in I can't idolize idols, man Cry, though, Dip my bicoff in Chiapas coffee All pissed off, Woah It's the wrong morning to wallow in Caught me off guard at the offering Sha, there's no mother here, No other one, You're wrong God, I stopped to cross at all of them, I suffered when I swallowed, Rah, What's wrong? I'm feeling solemn on my sodomist Wishes of This centrifugal —‘swimming with the fishes, Get it? Woah, It's a whole open world of Wizards and witches I wish I could ditch this —the center or attention is this city— That's Alex Tribec, for the record Fuck the TriBeCa fest Rest in Los Angeles Rest in peace Barbra Hah— I've got all of em This is an awful lot of mantras, Stars and Stripes. God; I lost it at the Oscar's, Turn me on, or off I'm all of it Or not What was the cost of this? An awful lot of mantras, stars, And crosswalks, To stop dead in the center of “I'm miserable That's Hollywood for you, God, That's Hollywood, That's where we dropped you off — Have you had enough, yet? How was is? Enough! I'm not even fully up yet! Fuck, It was loveless, All up in ashes, I told ya, That “fun is a friend of the devil “ Burn in sense, Just rub out the sense Have my lips on your hips, Just rotate, As the earth did, In difference, she has Impatience is his imperfection “Eventually,” She says, “I'll see him” He tends to agree, Within reason— Winter breezes and freedom, This season Envy leaves, But she's gonna get even Come in threes, And maybe, We'll see then. Come to the surface, Come up— Don't give up yet Give what you've got; Half a lung, And the other is under— Come on, Come up, Come all— Come, you're walking on water! No wonder they call for you On earth — (We've got a Hot One, for you) Have you ever wondered What's wrong with us all? Fuck— Hollywood's calling, I don't have my phone on me Hollywood called, But your voice Mail is full, What? I finally picked up; The message at the tone, Was in Morse code Billy fit the Playbill, I signed it “usnavi” Yo, You look just like me A sacrifice? A sacrifice, I said, I'm red, I'm jealous like I've never been That's right, blue eyes then Next lifetime Fu— They robbed me of all my art As a hobby Worshipped for All I've got Not a god yet, but Gotta be working on something That's all of it, Gotta be knocking it off, Full of gossip and God, I want love But it's not in the cards, huh New Joan Of Ark, Where's the war That you wanted Not enough talk, But I've done enough walking Gosh, Two thumbs up, All applause from the audience That what you wanted? Yeah! “God I want love but it's not in the cards yet” That's what you wanted? Yeah! That's what you wanted 10.60 2.94 7.75 Strange things happen when you change your vibration to Skrillex. It had been a fucking disasterous 24 hours l; not that I hadn't expected it to be, with Vegas in mind as the shithole capitol of the world, or at least the US, which was indeed turning to shit. Street after street filled with bodies, nearly dead but not—and not a care in the world at all by anyone who could help for the working class, nearly succumbed to poverty, or the homeless, by the millions in numbers rather than the mere thousands the false media portrayed as still an absolute crisis and state of emergency, however downplaying the numbers by millions, as they had already learned that the docile American public could be persuaded or made to move with numbers by the “pandemic”, a fear mongering new world order which had proved that almost no Americans could do math, or anything besides scroll and take selfies. GUESS WHAT DAY IT IS. Oh no. Not Skrillex Day, is it—? ITS SKRILLRX DAY, BIIITCH. Ugh. Fuck Yeah, you lil bitch. I'm spaced out, listing to Skrillex on sunset No shuffle I forgot about this one: It makes my lips numb This bitch dumb I'. Just a number! I don't really give a fuck ! If I had a Benz and blunt— I'd prob'ly roll my windows up Sunni with da big butt Come and get ya duck sucked I would say sunni blū But then I'd probably get some Crips up Ignorant indigenous ninjer Bendit like bender remember Send er a message when you get here Mister Fuck, I hate this. RULES OF TRAVEL Always leave things better than you found it. Well, I feel better, Thanks , God. Yep, no problem. Okay. *lays down momentarily* [half beat] Back to Work. [Suddenly Getting Up] OkayZ. Do ya'll remember—the time on the train. “ damn, I shoulda saw that movie with Carmella. This is hilarious. Watch. Agh, God. What is it. Now it's the hard part; I gotta do some technical shit. Mm. Like what: Put it on the net. don't. Uh. Too late, bitch. ::||pause. is this train gonna go. Is it. Innit. K. [train starts moving] Hm. I lost the thought, In awe of it all— The saga I wrote, and The words that would fall, All around me; The words that I saw, And the words that had found me The words that I was, And could not be without being Unh. That'll do. Lol what is up with this train. CONDUCTOR. Yo, it's me. Who the fuxk is this. What is this operation. Lol. Damn, what . 3D has its perks This is way beyond 3D. I know. bitch. **shh, don't cuss. What. It's for the kidsZ No, it isn't. It's for the kiddzzz. What. No. Yes: NoS For thee kids. So I turn 30 and my body keeps reminding me that I'm a baby machines Okay: What. Ew, that's gross. Lol. Only cause she's 30. What. Agism: it's real. EVERYTHING IS REAL. What. Uh. RAIL. —WHAt— —RAIL— Damn. … Zzz … SUPACREEA* is seated on the LOUNGE car in COACH. Don't capitalize coach. YOU're IN COAH. Oh hell yeah. What's in there. Not you. Okay, I'll be SUPACREE A, And you'll be SUPACREE B. Okay. You're not gonna disagree to being ‘B' instead of A, like me? I am you. I don't care. Fine. . . . I want to be SUPACREE B No take backs. SUPACREE A and SUOACREE B are DUPLICATES. DAMN, YOU DUPLICATED? Not on purpose! DAMN. This goes beyond shapeshiftig. I didn't know you could do that. I could do that. Oh. ‘Oh' Ugh I got this feeling in my soul— —I got this stone inside my palm— I got this pulling in my heart— —i feel like you could be the one; But you're gone, now Gone, gone, gone Gone gone, gone Gone, gone, gone Gone, gone, gone —and when there's no where left to run; —and there's no need to wander off— —and there is no one left to love— I guess I'll see you when you're gone Gone, gone, gone Gone gone, gone Gone, gone, gone Gone, gone, gone I'm gonna go ahead and take this on. Oh, God, No! —not because I want to; But why, then?! Because I gotta. You came a long way, kid. Where am I now? Oh, you're still nowhere. ITS NO FAIR. Life isn't fair, Amanda. But MoooooOO0000M. NO. BUT MO— NO—no SUPACREE show tonight! But— I told you, clean your room. I don't know what I am. You're a fairy. Pretty scary fairy. It'll do, though. WANDA. NO. COME, ON, WANDA NO. WANDA, COME ON. WAKANDA FOR— No, no black Panther. What, why not? That movie's racist. Wha-?! CUT TO: I didn't want to do it this way, kid. Who are you? The crypt keeper. Oh. Yeah. Am I Dead? Yeah. Wow. Yeah. Hm. Yep. Can I see your scythe? You wanna see? Yeah, it's nice— *SCYLCE!* Lol. AOh my god AAAAHHHHHJH—Drake BELL. Don't worry, he's an ansolary character. Wat. Kinda. Damn. Season 6 is on FIRE THE HOLLYWOOD PEOLPLE ahem. Hollywood is on fire. SUPACREE WHELP. I'm out. No, don't go. SKRILLEX DONT LEAVE ME LIKE THIS. SONNY Fuck it, I'm in Korea. Or Thailand, or whatever. Something like that. “Something like that.” Ahem. Where's Dillon Francis. LITERALLY FUCKING EVERYONE FUCK DILLON FRANCIS. Damn. YeH, that. Well, God forbid anything actually happens to that guy. GOD I don't forbid anything. It's a free world. AHAHAHAHHAHA AHAHAHAHAHJAHAHJJA AHAHAHHA STOP. What. Go back. WhT. For. Just. Go back. For what. I thought I saw somethings Something like what. Something. Just. Ugh. JUST REWIND. SUPACREE has replaced the remote with THE SYNETHESIA PANEL MINI *life itself rewinds

[The Festival Project Presents: {ENTER THE MULTIVERSE} THE LEGEND OF… THE INFINITE SKRILLIFILES GERALD'S WORLD & ASCENSION DEATHWISH LEGENDS THE INSOMNIAC {ENTER THE MULTIVERSE} SEASON 6 - ACT II - PART II I almost left my Elfbar in Raton, But I couldn't let go; It just held on. I had to leave my skateboard back at home , But now I'm gone. Now i'm gone Now I'm sick to my stomach, I didn't want this Now I'm so sick to my stomach; I didn't want it And all the non believers, And all the sinners, saints together on a train, wishing to be rich or famous; Freedom, Plain and simple *very scary music* I warned you; No bloodshed in LA. [A single drop of blood hits the pavement with a splash, in a vivid slow motion close up of the gritty Downtown Los Angeles sidewalk] FLASHBACK; Have you ever heard of a blood oath? I knew something was wrong with that girl. It's not just that girl; It's this place. People do a lot of things to get by in LA. What is “get by” You're never gonna make it. Well, then; I was never going to anyway–so it really doesn't matter. “The Golden Girl” gal·lant adjective 1.(of a person or their behavior) brave; heroic."she had made gallant efforts to pull herself together" Similar: brave courageous valiant valorous bold plucky daring fearless intrepid heroic lionhearted stouthearted doughty mettlesome great-spirited honorable noble manly manful macho dashing daredevil death-or-glory undaunted unflinching unshrinking unafraid dauntless indomitable gutsy spunky ballsy have-a-go venturous Opposite: cowardly 2.(of a man or his behavior) giving special attention and respect to women; chivalrous."a gallant gentleman came over and kissed my hand" Similar: chivalrous gentlemanly courtly courteous respectful polite attentive gracious considerate thoughtful obliging mannerly gentle Opposite: discourteous rude nounARCHAIC /ɡəˈlant,ɡəˈlänt/ a man who pays special attention to women."he launches himself into a gallant's career of amorous intrigue" Similar: suitor wooer admirer worshipper beau sweetheart lover love beloved boyfriend young man man friend escort swain paramour verbARCHAIC /ɡəˈlant,ɡəˈlänt/ (of a man) flirt with (a woman)."Mowbray was gallanting the Polish lady" Gee' Mo had his hands all over me, which made me uncomfortable—but I had sworn solemnly to myself never to ‘tell' on any man again—and neither would I call them out, or make objections to their actions in any way; the age told story had always been ‘her word against mine ‘, making the woman or victim in question appear weak, and of course, untrustworthy—whatever that meant anyway, and not that any of his attempts were hostile, He knew I was openly celibate, and supposedly respected that—however, I just found it best to wholly keep him in the friend zone and keep the notion to myself, as he still seemed to have some kind of hope for something greater between us—and though I did consider him more than a friend, I considered him more like family than anything, his own blurred lines a shadow that had become too great to perhaps any longer be colegues—at least for now—especially that I was fleeing the US once more in complete secrecy—and though there had been some good work between the two of us, I wasn't equalling to his vibration anymore, his music sounded strange and off, and the words that would come to my mind were less easy than pushed or forced, and repetitive in sound and style. I knew that I was leaving, but had refused to tell anybody, especially Gee', who may have raised questions as to where I was going—something that seemed to be good to keep quiet entirely, as even earlier in the day I had tried to give my tour list to Equinox to see if I could bypass upgrading my membership to Destination by giving them a list of dates and cities I would visit and being given access to the visitors list in each city—I was however persuaded into not doing so and keeping my Desrination Stetus, as after attempting to give my home club my list of cities and dates, even against my own instinct and better judgement, the manager dawned a look in his eye that said “just lay low”, and as low as I could lay, I didn't know how long it would last with the onslaught of things I would have to do on my phone and computer over wifi during the long traveling time. Still, I wanted to travel lightly—and perhaps it was Divine intervention itself in the form of God when my $80 Nike backpack broke, leaving me scurrying for a new one that I could afford simply with the remaining balance on my gift card—luckily, I did find one that presumably fit my needs available for pickup, of course, even less high quality than the oversized “training” bag I had purchased just a few months before, not realizing that 32 Liters would be more than enough space, hard to fit under an airplane seat, and Ill-fitting the more petite I would become, or even as my weight fluctuated, just awkward looking in general—and though it was a very attractive bag, I had always thought it to be a little too ‘loud' and ostentatious, though I had become attracted somehow after being unable to return it as I had thought to when I had first ordered it, receiving the bag just before leaving Las Vegas, which I would return to the following day to retrieve the drum machine I had pawned as a matter of absolute survival. INT. TRAIN. WHENEVER. The best part about riding the train is… CUT TO: A FIREY PLANE CRASH CUT BACK TO: You can't fall out of the sky. (Ya.) SHIA LA— Fuck it. SHIA LABEOUF IS: “THE AIR MARSHALL” Ohh, what's this one about? Oh my God. I wasn't writing, and so I must have been in some way dead-I wasn't feeling even a whisp of inspiration, anymore—only annoyance, and slight suffering. The train ride had gone all too quickly, and though I had started chipping away at some projects, there was nothing finished. Though the inhuman vibration and hostile tone of LA was long behind me, something did linger on a bit, perhaps in the form of love or some other feeling or attachment I had formed during my time there. I was, myself, vibrating differently— waving into a motion of the unknown, and not that it mattered what would happen anymore—I hadn't anything to love, or anything to lose, and so everything just seemed a wash entirely. I had never been so dejected in my life. Now I gotta do some Sunnï Blū shit. —Hurry. Hurry what. We gotta go, Oh. Oh Deng. Oh dang. What happened? No, that's just what planet they're from. Dang. That's tricky. New York— Ehrhm. You look good. Hm. You cleaned up. Ya. Nice. Yeah it is. Nice. I said that.. Stop incepting me. No. Stop this please. Just stop sleeping. Okay. I wish you would die. I just did. WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE. idobntknow. SUNNI BLŪ I DO WHAT I WANT. Fuck, What. That's Sunnï Blu Okay? She does what she wants. That's not SUPACREE. Is it not? No. What happened? S/he chanxed. I'm a “they” –And this is how it all makes sense. What is this fucking place. “East” Ugh. Oh, there's Toronto. That makes sense. Ew. I know right. UGH. LOOK AT ALL THIS POOP. I know, huh. LOOK AT IT. Don't do maps on kx5. Should we “Earth” We should Earth. Ew. What dimension is this? Fucking sick–gross. This isnt Earth. This is Earth! What happened to it. *coughs* It seems some demonic force has taken over. *coughs* Ew. This is fucked up. Should we leave. NO! *coughs* I mean –yeah, but we should at least try to figure out what happened first. *coughs* First?! Or, later–maybe *coughs*coughs*coughs* Yeah, lets leave. FUCK. What, dude, guh. I told you no deadmau5 on the train. No you didn't. I should have. I SHOULD HAVE KILLED THAT THING WHEN I SAW IT. How would you do that? THE DEADMAUS Go to sleep. K. Did you guys “Earth” Uh, yeah, but– Was it awesome? Uhm, no. No, dude. Why, what happened? We don't know. It was bad. “Adventure is allowing the unexpected to happen to you. Exploration is experiencing what you have not experienced before.” — Richard Aldington Schenectady Ahahaha Poughkeepsie lol what. All these are places. Yeah, I know. People live in these places . Oh My God. What. Where's Whole Foods? You need Jesus. Where's he at? JESUS CHRIST Timmy, this party is lit. TIMMY TURNER Yeah, thanks bro. JESUS CHRIST I love you. TIMMY TURNER (Leaving) K that's weird. IT DOESN'T What . MAKE ANY SENSE. I simulated this experience, in the construct of time In the confines of space—just to have this moment. Uh. Train—-To Deadmau5. [BLŪ Exercises Furiously] Train—To Deadmau5. [BLŪ boards the train hurriedly] SOMETIMES— UGH. I'm all wrapped up; Wrapped up in your love –But you never come for me I'm all wrapped up in your love Wonder what comes of it You never come for me I'm all wrapped up in your love; A half smile on my face; (l love you) Always thinking of you What else can I do, but To fee stupid Can't get over you, but As the sun comes up, I wander off, Remember us I guess it's a long walk Guess i'll just fall out of it About time… About that– I'm all wrapped up, yeah Wrapped up in your love Sonny Moore had inspired some of the greatest things i had ever written in my time; and all with just one look–two eyes, and no words at all, began an infinite unravelling of words from God's hands and into my minds eye. ASCENSION Rise of Ascencia Farro. …Your Majesty. I need help. Don't burden me with your woes. I beg your pardon? No, don't beg. THE SUITE LIFE OF SUNNÏ BLŪ LINDSAY LOHAN is sleeping FACE DOWN on the couch in SunnÏ Blū's Studio Lindsay, wake up. Mmfh. [Does not wake up. At all.] Lindsay. Mmf. Tequila. [Suddenly very awake, in fact; she has suddenly perked up with an amazing glow. ] *very serious knocks on the door* Oh shit. [suddenly, more drunk again] –oh shit. *three more knocks* Where's the tequila? SUNNÏ Ah, shit. Is that your lawyer, or your manager? Shit, maybe both. SUNNI. OPEN THE DOOR . –Might even be my agent, too. OPEN THE GODDAMN DOOR. (Both, in cheesy unison, tiny rock concert} I CHIMED IN WITH A HAVENT YOU PEOPLE EVER HEARD OF— [Sunni opens the door.] No, it's “closing the door– not “open the door” “The Goddamn door.” Right, Goddamit. –where's the tequila. Where it is– [Sunni points in a wayward direction; Lindsay stumbles morning-aftery into the booth. Eww–”morning aftery” Not like that. *addendum* [That Is, just to say that this scene takes place in the afterdays haze of a very –Very Holy Shit , God. What. You rule. [Lindsay enters the booth and uncaps a bottle of tequila so effing fancy, it hurts to look at.] So fucking fancy. Was that lindsay lohan? Yeah it is. It's still Linsday Lohan, Morgen– –It's ‘Morgan”; –She's just over there now. Not “was”. Still is Lindsay Lohan. Presently. How are you even friends. FLASHBACK SUNNI BLU sup, Lindsay Lohan! LINDSAY LOHAN sup. Who are you? SUNNI BLU I'm Sunni Blū. LINDSAY LOHAN LIKE—the rapper?! SUNNI BLU Not “like”. Am. LINDSAY LOHAN tight. SUNNI BLU. Sup. LINDSAY LOHAN Sup. SUNNI BLU I heard you like to party. LINDSAY LOHAN I like to party. SUNNI BLU —and, you DJ. LINDSAY LOHAN Oh yeah, huh! I was a DJ once. SUNNI BLU so was I. CUT BACK TO: SUNNI BLU now we're besties. I might be trapped in this hell, here, I figure But it's over when it's over, I cannot live here, Or anywhere Here's my liver; All he needed was a sliver, the silver lizard But I gave him the whole thing The whole thing The whole thing I swallowed the whole world whole, once And now it all happens, Over and over; A simple digestion And I've got no questions left No intuition, either No black characters, No brown eyes; I hate my life I hate my life Blonde is good, And redheads are nice; I hate my life I hate my life ‘Rich white peope are so fucking nasty sometimes' I had the best and the worst of it at Equinox, and while I considered it a miracle that I had even come so far, as to consider luxury fitness a priority and absolute necessity, even forgoing eating what I wanted or other comforts in paying my gym dues, now I had given myself what I thought to be the opportunity of a lifetime—it was on my bucket list, at least last time I checked, to visit Equinox in every city the chain had locations—and having put all my time and every fiber of my being into just ‘staying afloat', my idea of ‘living a little' was to workout as much as possible, while I still could—-as money was well beyond running dry just out or the sheer expense of traveling—or now—“touring”, as I would consider it, using my music as a means of not appearing homeless and destitute, and using my podcast as a medium for its promotion—though, I still didn't know where my listeners or downloads were coming from, and my Spotify, the last I had checked, had “0 monthly listeners” it was beginning again to be clear how much the United States hated black people, for whatever reason— and how privelege and power had overtaken even the best people's better senses. Humanity was slipping away—and so was I; the best I could do was to make my body as comfortable to live in as possible, and for whatever reason, I was drawn to Equinox to do so. Anandar or someone like her had once said, the key to being rich, is to spend money like you're rich, no matter the amount of money you had—knowing that in doing so, your money would multiply tenfold. I had never done so before, but between Equinox and my food stamps being stolen, the amount of money I had been draining myself of did indeed make me feel and look as if I had endless disposable income—and perhaps I did somehow—somewhere in the near future , if I could just convince myself I really was as special as my writing made me seem, or feel, simply reading it myself, or having chosen a carefully select few to read it. I was, indeed, a genius: the problem was, geniuses and writers particularly up to then had been notoriously famous for dying alone, penniless and undiscovered, and very often—by our own hands. Eleven since, I left Hell, and been in Heaven since I'm heaven sent I burn incense —A CROSS DIMENSIONAL PARALLEL REALITY. The taste of bile filled my mouth and sat on the back of my tongue as I tried to avoid the inevitability of swallowing it; it had all been worth it—the train to Hollywood had not altogether been as horrible as it usually was on The Expo—and as I rode 9 stops exactly into my old stomping grounds, I exited the Hollywood and Vine metro station to a nostalgic and familiar territory; this is where my Hollywood story had started, and had apparently yet to end, as I swept the Walk of Fame in a way I supposed I never had, the shadow of my old self following not behind, but directly overhead; I was, indeed, just a ghost. I ended up at Amoeba Music, hair dripping wet, and, though I had yet to eat in a couple of days, not feeling as if I had quite done a proper workout, rushed in the final hour to Hollywood, as the downtown location had been closed; Fine by me, as I was over and done with the downtown atmosphere altogether, and though I wasn't a particular fan of the new Amoeba Music location, I had felt a close calling to go to Hollywood that day, even before I knew I would have to—and ending up there anyway seemed to be another synchronicity indeed. ‘Spend it on something you love.' The voice had said, perhaps just my own—but not sounding anything at all like my own internal dialogue. No, this voice seemed entirely more divine, and so I took it as such, and was careful not to spend any of the carefully collected and specially marked dollar bills on anything I absolutely didn't love—and though I was terrified of the overall outcome of everything—now jobless, or rather, without secured income—my job having become myself in the process of writing, making music, and improving my physique to its peak performance and physical fitness, I had been careful not to spend any money at all on anything I absolutely didn't need. However, I did need music after all, and loved it more than anything, besides my own son—who did at least ask about me, after all, according to my estranged ex, who I had shielded myself from entirely, changing my name, my number, and my location for my own safety and peace of mind, rather than for aesthetic reasons, as anyone might have thought. But really, no one might have thought at all, as I was careful to leave everyone and everything behind that had come with my birth name, besides my father, my son, and my beloved Auntie, who I still allowed to call me “Cree”, though I had at least hinted at at an aycronym of my new name, giving her my address in case of emergency, or any other reason. But, I hadn't enough money to pay my mailbox, and so even that was irrelevant, as everything was. Suicide By Cop. Maybe. Idk. Look: the tinier you are—the bigger my dick seems. I get it. So be tiny. I like cereal. I like cake. I like cookies. I like shakes. So you know what. What. That's okay. REAPER Give me my scythe, Billie. BILLIE ELLISH It's a miniature scythe. REAPER Yeah—my—miniature scythe. BILLIE ELLISH It's mine now. REAPER No, it's not— BILLIE ELLISH But—you gave it to me. REAPER It came with the job. BILLIE ELLISH The job sucked! REAPER I know that! “LIL' BITZ” I'm just mildly concerned that LAPD squad cars are still 1995 crown Vic's. Like: how do you even catch sometime in a mazzerati? The guy who drives a mazzeratti's like: hah. You don't. You know what it is You know what it is— You know what it is That's the business Comin in hot, like a chicken wing This ain't Toy Story—got no friend in me, You feelin me? Cold as Minnesota, I'm the ice queen Nice bling— Hollywood should buy this bitch a wedding ring Amphetamine Trick, you're a half, I'm the whole thing Whole Foods market, gotta own me No mink coat, I'm a vegan, Hocus Pocus, I'm three witches Okay, from the top Hello? This is Hollywood calling; We want the festival project We just wrote up the contract Come get your deposit: You're nominated for an Oscar Your Star On The Walk looks Awesome it's On Us Yeah? That's what's up I'll come up I'll come up I'll come up Say what's up That's my shite; I'm rep in the festival project Ya'll like “what's that?” I'll tel you all about it,—that's Coming up next Oh yeah, Oh yeah Tune in I'm On Welcome to your Hollywood life The good life Good life Welcome to the Hollywood life That's right That's right Welcome to your Hollywood life The good life Good life Welcome to the Hollywood life That's right That's right They call me young Hollywood, They robbed me good in Santa Monica And I so I got no address yet; But I'm coming up like one direction I just checked my reflection like: Mirror mirror on the wall I gotta go Hollywood's callin And I don't do this often Only when o bless the red carpet Comin in hot, like a chicken wing Call me Toy Story— got a friend in me, You feelin me? On the big screen livin out my dreams, I wrote my scenes, the Hollywood life: I neee I ride by On a tomeline I write, I like My nice things. The life I lead, Is ritghteous, I defy my means Applied IT, I might be AI, Fine my me; Cause all I see Is light I like, And I'm liking my Hollywood life, I think. It's just some Hollywood shit Isn't it fabulous This is some Hollywood shiy Isn't it fabulous You know what it is You know what it is— You know what it is That's the business One door close. Then another door opens So sick flow, go home with a cold then Woah, Hoe—cold like some snow boots Pants so big, I can parachute (PARIS SHOOT) Hoes look fake, like a blow up doll Harlem shake, i'm bout to blow up ya'll We think we may have found your home planet. Oh, you think? Look at this. [DUFF views the distant soarkling object through the telescope lens, squinting.] Is that it?! I don't know… [Suddenly, as DIFF begins to focus on the planet; a high pitched ring only DUFF seems to hear strikes her away from the telescope, writhing in pain.] Woah, what happened?! Are you okay?! Is she okay?! [DUFF falls into a coma] What, no way. WhT is this. It's a show. WhTs it called. Idk. Shut up. You shut up. I'm watching —shhh! Call the doctor! MEANWHILE, IN HOLLYWOOD Girl. Hm. Look at these motherfuckets* Ooh, keep that. Wow. Huh. The entire reason for turning on my phone was to write about that experience. Which experience? I don't know, I've had like ten experiences since I walked into that door—and I wanted to write about all of them. Uh huh. But I lost it. You lost it? Not all of it. Well. Some of it. Which ones did you keep? The Good ones Oh shit, it's almost coming back to me Uh. First of all. —French people in love are cute. What. That shit is literally the cutest thing ever. French people—in love—speaking French. That shit is sexy Did you see his eyes? That's okay, Cree— I ‘That'll be enough. Ugh. Now, class— It's time for a sonnet, or synonym Senators, gentlemen— Get in your rhythm and trip to this; Cause it's about to get lit again: Call me illiterate, ignorant, negligent; Never irrelevant, disheveled or leveled since, This entrance is Heaven sent Evidence of everlasting natural intelligence That'll do. Okay. Let's break fast, I make gas, And bake snacks; I lay facts I slay slacks I'm maybacks You may ask Questions about the lesson, With a raised hand —okay class? . . . Oh— You forgot it was a lesson? Let me reflect and inspect, Resurrect the message just a bit— I'm the profession, If I ask, They answer “Yessir” I guess, er Thet yur just a jester Dunce hat on your ass Last, and rhe past semester, Ask my sweater: Your girl would probably wear it If I let her Oooh. Equinox+ (EP) Love brings me out of my shell; —I could love you, I I could love you, I Could love you, I Could love you, I love you I love you, I This isn't good for my health; If you don't love me,oh well — (I could love you, I) This is just passing the time, Count my dimes and, I'm wealthy, you build me up Shining, I wake you up Diamond of mine, I love you, I Love you I Do what I want most the time, Cause nothing else matters but Making you mine I, so what I want most the time I can't get out Out of my mind, Cause I love you I love you I, Wasting my time, I could love you but Nevermind Drunk, And I'm stumbling up to my apartment for The 30th time this month, My rent's due tomorrow, but I got it, Woah, I've got just enough Just to keep fuxkin up Getting fucked up And filling my cup Like it's something, But it's nothing, Not really Nothing, Not really Be good Work it out Come on Work it odd Be good Shake it off Work it out Come on Be good, Work it off, Work it out— Come on Be good Work it out Shake it off Come on — We all know There's a monster in there And it wants let out; All man, beware— Yeah We all know There's a monster in her— And, Someone will let it go Oh, Someone let it go Oh, no (oh yeah) Oh, no That's no good That's no good Oh no (Oh yeah) Oh no (Oh yeah!) No, no You just had to let it go You just had to let it go Oh, no! — I need time To rationalize my genius I can't write light this Alt right all white nationalists I can fantazize, right? I could die like this It's a damn good life What fucking time is it, anyway? Right? I can't rationalize, this Fascist rats at The Fashion district Bam, I had it— I had to get right, man I had to get God on my Mantras I fucked up tomorrow, I'm off in Toronto with problems And dogma— Who's dog is this Tied up at the Whole Foods market I tried it, I died in the in I can't idolize idols, man Cry, though, Dip my bicoff in Chiapas coffee All pissed off, Woah It's the wrong morning to wallow in Caught me off guard at the offering Sha, there's no mother here, No other one, You're wrong God, I stopped to cross at all of them, I suffered when I swallowed, Rah, What's wrong? I'm feeling solemn on my sodomist Wishes of This centrifugal —‘swimming with the fishes, Get it? Woah, It's a whole open world of Wizards and witches I wish I could ditch this —the center or attention is this city— That's Alex Tribec, for the record Fuck the TriBeCa fest Rest in Los Angeles Rest in peace Barbra Hah— I've got all of em This is an awful lot of mantras, Stars and Stripes. God; I lost it at the Oscar's, Turn me on, or off I'm all of it Or not What was the cost of this? An awful lot of mantras, stars, And crosswalks, To stop dead in the center of “I'm miserable That's Hollywood for you, God, That's Hollywood, That's where we dropped you off — Have you had enough, yet? How was is? Enough! I'm not even fully up yet! Fuck, It was loveless, All up in ashes, I told ya, That “fun is a friend of the devil “ Burn in sense, Just rub out the sense Have my lips on your hips, Just rotate, As the earth did, In difference, she has Impatience is his imperfection “Eventually,” She says, “I'll see him” He tends to agree, Within reason— Winter breezes and freedom, This season Envy leaves, But she's gonna get even Come in threes, And maybe, We'll see then. Come to the surface, Come up— Don't give up yet Give what you've got; Half a lung, And the other is under— Come on, Come up, Come all— Come, you're walking on water! No wonder they call for you On earth — (We've got a Hot One, for you) Have you ever wondered What's wrong with us all? Fuck— Hollywood's calling, I don't have my phone on me Hollywood called, But your voice Mail is full, What? I finally picked up; The message at the tone, Was in Morse code Billy fit the Playbill, I signed it “usnavi” Yo, You look just like me A sacrifice? A sacrifice, I said, I'm red, I'm jealous like I've never been That's right, blue eyes then Next lifetime Fu— They robbed me of all my art As a hobby Worshipped for All I've got Not a god yet, but Gotta be working on something That's all of it, Gotta be knocking it off, Full of gossip and God, I want love But it's not in the cards, huh New Joan Of Ark, Where's the war That you wanted Not enough talk, But I've done enough walking Gosh, Two thumbs up, All applause from the audience That what you wanted? Yeah! “God I want love but it's not in the cards yet” That's what you wanted? Yeah! That's what you wanted 10.60 2.94 7.75 Strange things happen when you change your vibration to Skrillex. It had been a fucking disasterous 24 hours l; not that I hadn't expected it to be, with Vegas in mind as the shithole capitol of the world, or at least the US, which was indeed turning to shit. Street after street filled with bodies, nearly dead but not—and not a care in the world at all by anyone who could help for the working class, nearly succumbed to poverty, or the homeless, by the millions in numbers rather than the mere thousands the false media portrayed as still an absolute crisis and state of emergency, however downplaying the numbers by millions, as they had already learned that the docile American public could be persuaded or made to move with numbers by the “pandemic”, a fear mongering new world order which had proved that almost no Americans could do math, or anything besides scroll and take selfies. GUESS WHAT DAY IT IS. Oh no. Not Skrillex Day, is it—? ITS SKRILLRX DAY, BIIITCH. Ugh. Fuck Yeah, you lil bitch. I'm spaced out, listing to Skrillex on sunset No shuffle I forgot about this one: It makes my lips numb This bitch dumb I'. Just a number! I don't really give a fuck ! If I had a Benz and blunt— I'd prob'ly roll my windows up Sunni with da big butt Come and get ya duck sucked I would say sunni blū But then I'd probably get some Crips up Ignorant indigenous ninjer Bendit like bender remember Send er a message when you get here Mister Fuck, I hate this. RULES OF TRAVEL ENTER THE MULTIVERSE SEASON 6 - ACT II I almost left my Elfbar in Raton, But I couldn't let go; It just held on. I had to leave my skateboard back at home , But now I'm gone. Now i'm gone Now I'm sick to my stomach, I didn't want this Now I'm so sick to my stomach; I didn't want it And all the non believers, And all the sinners, saints together on a train, wishing to be rich or famous; Freedom, Plain and simple *very scary music* I warned you; No bloodshed in LA. [A single drop of blood hits the pavement with a splash, in a vivid slow motion close up of the gritty Downto Los Angeles sidewalk] FLASHBACK; Have you ever heard of a blood oath? I knew something was wrong with that girl. It's not just that girl; It's this place. People do a lot of things to get by in LA. What is “get by” You're never gonna make it Well, then; I was never going to anyway–so it really doesn't matter. gal·lant adjective 1.(of a person or their behavior) brave; heroic."she had made gallant efforts to pull herself together" Similar: brave courageous valiant valorous bold plucky daring fearless intrepid heroic lionhearted stouthearted doughty mettlesome great-spirited honorable noble manly manful macho dashing daredevil death-or-glory undaunted unflinching unshrinking unafraid dauntless indomitable gutsy spunky ballsy have-a-go venturous Opposite: cowardly 2.(of a man or his behavior) giving special attention and respect to women; chivalrous."a gallant gentleman came over and kissed my hand" Similar: chivalrous gentlemanly courtly courteous respectful polite attentive gracious considerate thoughtful obliging mannerly gentle Opposite: discourteous rude nounARCHAIC /ɡəˈlant,ɡəˈlänt/ a man who pays special attention to women."he launches himself into a gallant's career of amorous intrigue" Similar: suitor wooer admirer worshipper beau sweetheart lover love beloved boyfriend young man man friend escort swain paramour verbARCHAIC /ɡəˈlant,ɡəˈlänt/ (of a man) flirt with (a woman)."Mowbray was gallanting the Polish lady" Gee' Moo had his hands all over me, which made me uncomfortable—but I had sworn solemnly to myself never to ‘tell' on any man again—and neither would I call them out, or make objections to their actions in any way; the age told story had always been ‘her word against mine ‘, making the woman or victim in question appear weak, and of course, untrustworthy—whatever that meant anyway, and not that any of his attempts were hostile, He knew I was openly celibate, and supposedly respected that—however, I just found it best to wholly keep him in the friend zone and keep the notion to myself, as he still seemed to have some kind of hope for something greater between us—and though I did consider him more than a friend, I considered him more like family than anything, his own blurred lines a shadow that had become too great to perhaps any longer be colegues—at least for now—especially that I was fleeing the US once more in complete secrecy—and though there had been some good work between the two of us, I wasn't equalling to his vibration anymore, his music sounded strange and off, and the words that would come to my mind were less easy than pushed or forced, and repetitive in sound and style. I knew that I was leaving, but had refused to tell anybody, especially Gee', who may have raised questions as to where I was going—something that seemed to be good to keep quiet entirely, as even earlier in the day I had tried to give my tour list to Equinox to see if I could bypass upgrading my membership to Destination by giving them a list of dates and cities I would visit and being given access to the visitors list in each city—I was however persuaded into not doing so and keeping my Desrination Stetus, as after attempting to give my home club my list of cities and dates, even against my own instinct and better judgement, the manager dawned a look in his eye that said “just lay low”, and as low as I could lay, I didn't know how long it would last with the onslaught of things I would have to do on my phone and computer over wifi during the long traveling time. Still, I wanted to travel lightly—and perhaps it was Divine intervention itself in the form of God when my $80 Nike backpack broke, leaving me scurrying for a new one that I could afford simply with the remaining balance on my gift card—luckily, I did find one that presumably fit my needs available for pickup, of course, even less high quality than the oversized “training” bag I had purchased just a few months before, not realizing that 32 Liters would be more than enough space, hard to fit under an airplane seat, and Ill-fitting the more petite I would become, or even as my weight fluctuated, just awkward looking in general—and though it was a very attractive bag, I had always thought it to be a little too ‘loud' and ostentatious, though I had become attracted somehow after being unable to return it as I had thought to when I had first ordered it, receiving the bag just before leaving Las Vegas, which I would return to the following day to retrieve the drum machine I had pawned as a matter of absolute survival. The best part about riding the train is… CUT TO: A firey plane crash CUT BACK TO You can't fall out of the sky. (Ya.) SHIA LA— Fuck it. SHIA IS “THE AIR MARSHALL” Ohh, what's this one about? Oh my God. I wasn't writing, and so I must have been in some way dead-I wasn't feeling even a whisp of inspiration, anymore—only annoyance, and slight suffering. The train to chugs I had gone all too quickly, and though I had started chipping away at some projects, there was nothing finished. Though the inhuman vibration and hostile tone of LA was long behind me, something did linger on a bit, perhaps in the form of love or some other feeling or attachment I had formed during my time there. I was, myself, vibrating differently— waving into a motion of the unknown, and not that it mattered what would happen anymore—I hadn't anything to love, or anything to lose, and so everything just seemed a wash entirely. I had never been so dejected in my life. Now I gotta do some Sunnï Blū shit. —Hurry. Hurry what. We gotta go, Oh. Oh Deng. Oh dang. What happened? No, that's just what planet they're from. Dang. That's tricky. New York— Ehrhm. You look good. Hm. You cleaned up. Ya. Nice. Yeah it is. Nice. I said that.. Stop incepting me. No. Stop this please please. Just stop sleeping. Okay. I wish you would die. I just did. WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE. idobntknow. SUNNI BLŪ I DO WHAT I WANT. Fuck, What. That's sunni Blu Okay? She does what she wants. That's not supacree Is it not? No. What happened? S/he chanxed. I'm a “they” –And this is how it all makes sense. What is this fucking place. “East” Ugh. Oh, there's Toronto. That makes sense. Ew. I know right. UGH. LOOK AT ALL THIS POOP. I know, huh. LOOK AT IT. Don't do maps on kx5. Should we “Earth” We should Earth. Ew. What dimension is this? Fucking sick–gross. This isnt Earth. This is Earth! What happened to it. *coughs* It seems some demonic force has taken over. *coughs* Ew. This is fucked up. Should we leave. NO! *coughs* I mean –yeah, but we should at least try to figure out what happened first. *coughs* First?! Or, later–maybe *coughs*coughs*coughs* Yeah, lets leave. FUCK. What, dude, guh I told you no deadmau5 on the train. No you didn't. I should have. I SHOULD HAVE KILLED THAT THING WHEN I SAW IT. How would you do that? THE DEADMAUS Go to sleep. K. Did you guys “Earth” Uh, yeah, but– Was it awesome? Uhm, no. No, dude. Why, what happened? We don't know. It was bad. “Adventure is allowing the unexpected to happen to you. Exploration is experiencing what you have not experienced before.” — Richard Aldington Schenectady Ahahaha Poughkeepsie lol what. All these are places. Yeah, I know. People live in these places . Oh My God. What. Where's Whole Foods? You need Jesus. Where's he at? JESUS CHRIST Timmy, this party is lit. TIMMY TURNER Yeah, thanks bro. JESUS CHRIST I love you. TIMMY TURNER (eaving) K that's weird. IT DOESN”T. What . MAKE ANY SENSE. I simulated this experience, in the construct of time In the confines of time and space—just to have this moment. Uh. Train—-To Deadmau5. [BLŪ Exercises Furiously] Train—To Deadmau5. [BLŪ boards the train hurriedly] SOMETIMES— I'm all wrapped up; Wrapped up in your love –But you never come for me I'm all wrapped up in your love Wonder what comes of it You never come for me I'm all wrapped up in your love; A half smile on my face; (l love you) Always thinking of you What else can I do, but To fee stupid Can't get over you, but As the sun comes up, I wander off, Remember us I guess it's a long walk Guess i'll just fall out of it About time… About that– I'm all wrapped up, yeah Wrapped up in your love Sonny Moore had inspired some of the greatest thing i had ever written in my time; and all with just one look–two eyes, and no words at all, began an infinite unravelling of words from God's hands and into my minds eye. Farro. …Your Majesty. I need help. Don't burden me with your woes. I beg your pardon? No, don't beg. LINDSAY LOHAN is sleeping FACE DOWN on the couch in SunnÏ Blū's Studio Lindsay, wake up. Mmfh. [Does not wake up. At all.] Lindsay. Mmf. Tequila. [Suddenly very awake, in fact; she has suddenly perked up with an amazing glow. ] *very serious knocks on the door* Oh shit. [suddenly, more drunk again] –oh shit. *three more knocks* Where's the tequila? SUNNÏ Ah, shit. Is that your lawyer, or your manager? Shit, maybe both. SUNNI. OPEN THE DOOR . –Might even be my agent, too. OPEN THE GODDAMN DOOR. (Both, in cheesy unison, tiny rock concert} I CHIMED IN WITH A HAVENT YOU PEOPLE EVER HEARD OF [Sunni opens the door. No, it's “closing the door– not “open the door” “The Goddamn door.” Right, Goddamit. –where's the tequila. Where it is– [Sunni points in a wayward direction; Lindsay stumbles morning-aftery into the booth. Eww–”morning aftery” Not like that. *addendum* [That Is, just to say that this scene takes place in the afterdays haze of a very –Very Holy Shit , God. What. You rule. [Lindsay enters the booth and uncaps a bottle of tequila so effing fancy, it hurts to look at.] So fucking fancy. Was that lindsay lohan? Yeah it is. It's still lindsay logan, Morgen– –It's ‘Morgan” –She's just over there now. Not “was” How are you even friends. FLASHBACK SUNNI BLU sup, Lindsay Lohan! LINDSAY LOHAN sup. Who are you? SUNNI BLU I'm Sunni Blū LINDSAY LOHAN LIKE—the rapper. SUNNI BLU Not “like”. Am. LINDSAY LOHAN tight. SUNNI BLU. Sup. LINDSAY LOHAN Sup. SUNNI BLU I heard you like to party. LINDSAY LOHAN I like to party. SUNNI BLU —and, you DJ. LINDSAY LOHAN Oh yeah, huh! I was a DJ once. SUNNI BLU so was I. CUT BACK TO: SUNNI BLU now we're besties. I might be trapped in this hell, here, I figure But it's over when it's over, I cannot live here, Or anywhere Here's my liver; All he needed was a sliver, the silver lizard But I have him the whole thing The whole thing The whole thing I swallowed the whole world whole, once And now it all happens, Over and over; A simple digestion And I've got no questions left No intuition, either No black characters, No brown eyes; I hate my life I hate my life Blonde is good, And redheads are nice; I hate my life I hate my life ‘Rich white peope are so fucking nasty sometimes' I had the best and the worst of it at Equinox, and while I considered it a miracle that I had even come so far, as to consider luxury fitness a priority and absolute necessity, even forgoing eating what I wanted or other comforts in paying my gym dues, now I had given myself what I thought to be the opportunity of a lifetime—it was on my bucket list, at least last time I checked, to visit Equinox in every city the chain had locations—and having put all my time and every fiber of my being into just ‘staying afloat', my idea of ‘living a little' was to workout as much as possible, while I still could—-as money was well beyond running dry just out or the sheer expense of traveling—or now—“touring”, as I would consider it, using my music as a means of not appearing homeless and destitute, and using my podcast as a medium for its promotion—though, I still didn't know where my listeners or downloads were coming from, and my Spotify, the last I had checked, had “0 monthly listeners” it was beginning again to be clear how much the United States hated black people, for whatever reason— and how privelege and power had overtaken even the best people's better senses. Humanity was slipping away—and so was I; the best I could do was to make my body as comfortable to live in as possible, and for whatever reason, I was drawn to Equinox to do so. Anandar or someone like her had once said, the key to being rich, is to spend money like you're rich, no matter the amount of money you had—knowing that in doing so, your money would multiply tenfold. I had never done so before, but between Equinox and my food stamps being stolen, the amount of money I had been draining myself of did indeed make me feel and look as if I had endless disposable income—and perhaps I did somehow—somewhere in the near future , if I could just convince myself I really was as special as my writing made me seem, or feel, simply reading it myself, or having chosen a carefully select few to read it. I was, indeed, a genius: the problem was, geniuses and writers particularly up to then had been notoriously famous for dying alone, penniless and undiscovered, and very often—by our own hands. Eleven since, I left Hell, and been in Heaven since I'm heaven sent I burn incense The taste of bile filled my mouth and sat on the back of my tongue as I tried to avoid the inevitability of swallowing it; it had all been worth it—the train to Hollywood had not altogether been as horrible as it usually was on The Expo—and as I rode 9 stops exactly into my old stomping grounds, I exited the Hollywood and Vine metro station to a nostalgic and familiar territory; this is where my Hollywood story had started, and had apparently yet to end, as I swept the Walk of Fame in a way I supposed I never had, the shadow of my old self following not behind, but directly overhead; I was, indeed, just a ghost. I ended up at Amoeba Music, hair dripping wet, and, though I had yet to eat in a couple of days, not feeling as if I had quite done a proper workout, rushed in the final hour to Hollywood, as the downtown location had been closed; Fine by me, as I was over and done with the downtown atmosphere altogether, and though I wasn't a particular fan of the new Amoeba Music location, I had felt a close calling to go to Hollywood that day, even before I knew I would have to—and ending up there anyway seemed to be another synchronicity indeed. ‘Spend it on something you love.' The voice had said, perhaps just my own—but not sounding anything at all like my own internal dialogue. No, this voice seemed entirely more divine, and so I took it as such, and was careful not to spend any of the carefully collected and specially marked dollar bills on anything I absolutely didn't love—and though I was terrified of the overall outcome of everything—now jobless, or rather, without secured income—my job having become myself in the process of writing, making music, and improving my physique to its peak performance and physical fitness, I had been careful not to spend any money at all on anything I absolutely didn't need. However, I did need music after all, and loved it more than anything, besides my own son—who did at least ask about me, after all, according to my estranged ex, who I had shielded myself from entirely, changing my name, my number, and my location for my own safety and peace of mind, rather than for aesthetic reasons, as anyone might have thought. But really, no one might have thought at all, as I was careful to leave everyone and everything behind that had come with my birth name, besides my father, my son, and my beloved Auntie, who I still allowed to call me “Cree”, though I had at least hinted at at an aycronym of my new name, giving her my address in case of emergency, or any other reason. But, I hadn't enough money to pay my mailbox, and so even that was irrelevant, as everything was. Look: the tinier you are—the bigger my dick seems. I get it. So be tiny. I like cereal. I like cake. I like cookies. I like shakes. So you know what. What. That's okay. REAPER Give me my scythe, Billie. BILLIE ELLISH It's a miniature scythe. REAPER Yeah—my—miniature scythe. BILLIE ELLISH It's mine now. REAPER No, it's not— BILLIE ELLISH But—you gave it to me. REAPER It came with the job. BILLIE ELLISH The job sucked! REAPER I know that! I'm just mildly concerned that LAPD squad cars are still 1995 crown Vic's. Like: how do you even catch sometime in a mazzerati? The guy who drives a mazzeratti's like: hah. You don't. You know what it is You know what it is— You know what it is That's the business Comin in hot, like a chicken wing This ain't Toy Story—got no friend in me, You feelin me? Cold as Minnesota, I'm the ice queen Nice bling— Hollywood should buy this bitch a wedding ring Amohetemime Trick, you're a half, I'm the whole thing Whole Foods market, gotta own me No mink coat, I'm a vegan, Hocus Pocus, I'm three witches Okay, from the top Hello? This is Hollywood calling; We want the festival project We just wrote up the contract Come get your deposit: You're nominated for an Oscar Your Star On The Walk looks Awesome it's On Us Yeah? That's what's up I'll come up I'll come up I'll come up Say what's up That's my shite; I'm rep in the festival project Ya'll like “what's that?” I'll tel you all about it,—that's Coming up next Oh yeah, Oh yeah Tune in I'm On Welcome to your Hollywood life The good life Good life Welcome to the Hollywood life That's right That's right Welcome to your Hollywood life The good life Good life Welcome to the Hollywood life That's right That's right They call me young Hollywood, They robbed me good in Santa Monica And I so I got no address yet; But I'm coming up like one direction I just checked my reflection like: Mirror mirror on the wall I gotta go Hollywood's callin And I don't do this often Only when o bless the red carpet Comin in hot, like a chicken wing Call me Toy Story— got a friend in me, You feelin me? On the big screen livin out my dreams, I wrote my scenes, the Hollywood life: I neee I ride by On a tomeline I write, I like My nice things. The life I lead, Is ritghteous, I defy my means Applied IT, I might be AI, Fine my me; Cause all I see Is light I like, And I'm liking my Hollywood life, I think. Nice bling— Hollywood should buy this bitch a wedding ring Amohetemime Trick, you're a half, I'm the whole thing Whole Foods market, gotta own me No mink coat, I'm a vegan, Hocus Pocus, I'm three witches It's just some Hollywood shit Isn't it fabulous This is some Hollywood shiy Isn't it fabulous Comin in hot, like a chicken wing This ain't Toy Story—got no friend in me, You feelin me? Cold as Minnesota, I'm the ice queen Nice bling— Hollywood should buy this bitch a wedding ring Amohetemime Trick, you're a half, I'm the whole thing Whole Foods market, gotta own me No mink coat, I'm a vegan, Hocus Pocus, I'm three witches You know what it is You know what it is— You know what it is That's the business One door close. Then another door opens So sick flow, go home with a cold then Woah, Hoe—cold like some snow boots Pants so big, I can parachutes Hoes look fake, like a blow up doll Harlem shake, i'm bout to blow up ya'll We think we may have found your home planet. Oh, you think? Look at this'd [DUFF views the distant soarkling object through the telescope lens, squinting.] Is that it?! I don't know… [Suddenly, as DIFF begins to focus on the planet; a high pitched ring only DUFF seems to hear strikes her away from the telescope, writhing in pain.] Woah, what happened?! Are you okay?! Is she okay?! [DUFF falls into a coma] What, no way. WhT is this. It's a show. WhTs it called. Idk. Shut up. You shut up. I'm watching —shhh! Call the doctor! DUFF! What's your name again? …Are you serious? No, I'm kidding. (No, I actually forgot what I named this character) I think it's “Joel” I doubt that. What was it. Idk, moving on. …did you forget? Yeah, I forgot. It's okay! Yeah, I guess. We found you!! Yeah. Sorry we destroyed the planet— —only like half. It's totally destroyed. It was like that before you guys landed. —? Just Trust me. Why does it look like somebody turned you upside down? I was “paralyzed” What's that mean? It happens here. That sounds horrible. This place sucks. It's really far. Girl. Hm. Look at these motherfuckets* Ooh, keep that. Wow. Huh. The entire reason for turning on my phone was to write about that experience. Which experience? I don't know, I've had like ten experiences since I walked into that door—and I wanted to write about all of them. Uh huh. But I lost it. You lost it? Not all of it. Well. Some of it. Which ones did you keep? The Good ones Oh shit, it's almost coming back to me Uh. First of all. —French people in love are cute. What. That shit is literally the cutest thing ever. French people—in love—speaking French. That shit is sexy Did you see his eyes? That's okay, Cree— I ‘That'll be enough. Ugh. Now, class— It's time for a sonnet, or synonym Senators, gentlemen— Get in your rhythm and trip to this; Cause it's about to get lit again: Call me illiterate, ignorant, negligent; Never irrelevant, disheveled or leveled since, This entrance is Heaven sent Evidence of everlasting natural intelligence That'll do. Okay. Let's break fast, I make gas, And bake snacks; I lay facts I slay slacks I'm maybacks You may ask Questions about the lesson, With a raised hand —okay class? . . . Oh— You forgot it was a lesson? Let me reflect and inspect, Resurrect the message just a bit— I'm the profession, If I ask, They answer “Yessir” I guess, er Thet yur just a jester Dunce hat on your ass Last, and rhe past semester, Ask my sweater: Your girl would probably wear it If I let her Oooh. Equinox+ (EP) Love brings me out of my shell; —I could love you, I I could love you, I Could love you, I Could love you, I love you I love you, I This isn't good for my health; If you don't love me,oh well — (I could love you, I) This is just passing the time, Count my dimes and, I'm wealthy, you build me up Shining, I wake you up Diamond of mine, I love you, I Love you I Do what I want most the time, Cause nothing else matters but Making you mine I, so what I want most the time I can't get out Out of my mind, Cause I love you I love you I, Wasting my time, I could love you but Nevermind Drunk, And I'm stumbling up to my apartment for The 30th time this month, My rent's due tomorrow, but I got it, Woah, I've got just enough Just to keep fuxkin up Getting fucked up And filling my cup Like it's something, But it's nothing, Not really Nothing, Not really Be good Work it out Come on Work it odd Be good Shake it off Work it out Come on Be good, Work it off, Work it out— Come on Be good Work it out Shake it off Come on — We all know There's a monster in there And it wants let out; All man, beware— Yeah We all know There's a monster in her— And, Someone will let it go Oh, Someone let it go Oh, no (oh yeah) Oh, no That's no good That's no good Oh no (Oh yeah) Oh no (Oh yeah!) No, no You just had to let it go You just had to let it go Oh, no! — I need time To rationalize my genius I can't write light this Alt right all white nationalists I can fantazize, right? I could die like this It's a damn good life What fucking time is it, anyway? Right? I can't rationalize, this Fascist rats at The Fashion district Bam, I had it— I had to get right, man I had to get God on my Mantras I fucked up tomorrow, I'm off in Toronto with problems And dogma— Who's dog is this Tied up at the Whole Foods market I tried it, I died in the in I can't idolize idols, man Cry, though, Dip my bicoff in Chiapas coffee All pissed off, Woah It's the wrong morning to wallow in Caught me off guard at the offering Sha, there's no mother here, No other one, You're wrong God, I stopped to cross at all of them, I suffered when I swallowed, Rah, What's wrong? I'm feeling solemn on my sodomist Wishes of This centrifugal —‘swimming with the fishes, Get it? Woah, It's a whole open world of Wizards and witches I wish I could ditch this —the center or attention is this city— That's Alex Tribec, for the record Fuck the TriBeCa fest Rest in Los Angeles Rest in peace Barbra Hah— I've got all of em This is an awful lot of mantras, Stars and Stripes. God; I lost it at the Oscar's, Turn me on, or off I'm all of it Or not What was the cost of this? An awful lot of mantras, stars, And crosswalks, To stop dead in the center of “I'm miserable That's Hollywood for you, God, That's Hollywood, That's where we dropped you off — Have you had enough, yet? How was is? Enough! I'm not even fully up yet! Fuck, It was loveless, All up in ashes, I told ya, That “fun is a friend of the devil “ Burn in sense, Just rub out the sense Have my lips on your hips, Just rotate, As the earth did, In difference, she has Impatience is his imperfection “Eventually,” She says, “I'll see him” He tends to agree, Within reason— Winter breezes and freedom, This season Envy leaves, But she's gonna get even Come in threes, And maybe, We'll see then. Come to the surface, Come up— Don't give up yet Give what you've got; Half a lung, And the other is under— Come on, Come up, Come all— Come, you're walking on water! No wonder they call for you On earth — (We've got a Hot One, for you) Have you ever wondered What's wrong with us all? Fuck— Hollywood's calling, I don't have my phone on me Hollywood called, But your voice Mail is full, What? I finally picked up; The message at the tone, Was in Morse code Billy fit the Playbill, I signed it “usnavi” Yo, You look just like me A sacrifice? A sacrifice, I said, I'm red, I'm jealous like I've never been That's right, blue eyes then Next lifetime Fu— They robbed me of all my art As a hobby Worshipped for All I've got Not a god yet, but Gotta be working on something That's all of it, Gotta be knocking it off, Full of gossip and God, I want love But it's not in the cards, huh New Joan Of Ark, Where's the war That you wanted Not enough talk, But I've done enough walking Gosh, Two thumbs up, All applause from the audience That what you wanted? Yeah! “God I want love but it's not in the cards yet” That's what you wanted? Yeah! That's what you wanted 10.60 2.94 7.75 Strange things happen when you change your vibration to Skrillex. It had been a fucking disasterous 24 hours l; not that I hadn't expected it to be, with Vegas in mind as the shithole capitol of the world, or at least the US, which was indeed turning to shit. Street after street filled with bodies, nearly dead but not—and not a care in the world at all by anyone who could help for the working class, nearly succumbed to poverty, or the homeless, by the millions in numbers rather than the mere thousands the false media portrayed as still an absolute crisis and state of emergency, however downplaying the numbers by millions, as they had already learned that the docile American public could be persuaded or made to move with numbers by the “pandemic”, a fear mongering new world order which had proved that almost no Americans could do math, or anything besides scroll and take selfies. GUESS WHAT DAY IT IS. Oh no. Not Skrillex Day, is it—? ITS SKRILLRX DAY, BIIITCH. Ugh. Fuck Yeah, you lil bitch. I'm spaced out, listing to Skrillex on sunset No shuffle I forgot about this one: It makes my lips numb This bitch dumb I'. Just a number! I don't really give a fuck ! If I had a Benz and blunt— I'd prob'ly roll my windows up Sunni with da big butt Come and get ya duck sucked I would say sunni blū But then I'd probably get some Crips up Ignorant indigenous ninjer Bendit like bender remember Send er a message when you get here Mister Fuck, I hate this. RULES OF TRAVEL Always leave things better than you found it. Well, I feel better, Thanks , God. Yep, no problem. Okay. *lays down momentarily* [half beat] Back to Work. [Suddenly Getting Up] OkayZ. Do ya'll remember—the time on the train. “ damn, I shoulda saw that movie with Carmella. This is hilarious. Watch. Agh, God. What is it. Now it's the hard part; I gotta do some technical shit. Mm. Like what: Put it on the net. don't. Uh. Too late, bitch. ::||pause. is this train gonna go. Is it. Innit. K. [train starts moving] Hm. I lost the thought, In awe of it all— The saga I wrote, and The words that would fall, All around me; The words that I saw, And the words that had found me The words that I was, And could not be without being Unh. That'll do. Lol what is up with this train. CONDUCTOR. Yo, it's me. Who the fuxk is this. What is this operation. Lol. Damn, what . 3D has its perks This is way beyond 3D. I know. bitch. **shh, don't cuss. What. It's for the kidsZ No, it isn't. It's for the kiddzzz. What. No. Yes: NoS For thee kids. So I turn 30 and my body keeps reminding me that I'm a baby machines Okay: What. Ew, that's gross. Lol. Only cause she's 30. What. Agism: it's real. EVERYTHING IS REAL. What. Uh. RAIL. —WHAt— —RAIL— Damn. … Zzz … SUPACREEA* is seated on the LOUNGE car in COACH. Don't capitalize coach. YOU're IN COAH. Oh hell yeah. What's in there. Not you. Okay, I'll be SUPACREE A, And you'll be SUPACREE B. Okay. You're not gonna disagree to being ‘B' instead of A, like me? I am you. I don't care. Fine. . . . I want to be SUPACREE B No take backs. SUPACREE A and SUOACREE B are DUPLICATES. DAMN, YOU DUPLICATED? Not on purpose! DAMN. This goes beyond shapeshiftig. I didn't know you could do that. I could do that. Oh. ‘Oh' Ugh I got this feeling in my soul— —I got this stone inside my palm— I got this pulling in my heart— —i feel like you could be the one; But you're gone, now Gone, gone, gone Gone gone, gone Gone, gone, gone Gone, gone, gone —and when there's no where left to run; —and there's no need to wander off— —and there is no one left to love— I guess I'll see you when you're gone Gone, gone, gone Gone gone, gone Gone, gone, gone Gone, gone, gone I'm gonna go ahead and take this on. Oh, God, No! —not because I want to; But why, then?! Because I gotta. You came a long way, kid. Where am I now? Oh, you're still nowhere. ITS NO FAIR. Life isn't fair, Amanda. But MoooooOO0000M. NO. BUT MO— NO—no SUPACREE show tonight! But— I told you, clean your room. I don't know what I am. You're a fairy. Pretty scary fairy. It'll do, though. WANDA. NO. COME, ON, WANDA NO. WANDA, COME ON. WAKANDA FOR— No, no black Panther. What, why not? That movie's racist. Wha-?! CUT TO: I didn't want to do it this way, kid. Who are you? The crypt keeper. Oh. Yeah. Am I Dead? Yeah. Wow. Yeah. Hm. Yep. Can I see your scythe? You wanna see? Yeah, it's nice— *SCYLCE!* Lol. AOh my god AAAAHHHHHJH—Drake BELL. Don't worry, he's an ansolary character. Wat. Kinda. Damn. Season 6 is on FIRE THE HOLLYWOOD PEOLPLE ahem. Hollywood is on fire. SUPACREE WHELP. I'm out. No, don't go. SKRILLEX DONT LEAVE ME LIKE THIS. SONNY Fuck it, I'm in Korea. Or Thailand, or whatever. Something like that. “Something like that.” Ahem. Where's Dillon Francis. LITERALLY FUCKING EVERYONE FUCK DILLON FRANCIS. Damn. YeH, that. Well, God forbid anything actually happens to that guy. GOD I don't forbid anything. It's a free world. AHAHAHAHHAHA AHAHAHAHAHJAHAHJJA AHAHAHHA STOP. What. Go back. WhT. For. Just. Go back. For what. I thought I saw somethings Something like what. Something. Just. Ugh. JUST REWIND. SUPACREE has replaced the remote with THE SYNETHESIA PANEL MINI *life itself rewinds

The official release date is Oct 15 but he's having a special pre-release show for his hometown at Amoeba this Thursday, Sept 29 at 5pm  FREE  ALL AGES at Amoeba Music 1855 Haight St, San Francisco, CA 94117 Little Village presents a special kick-off to Hardly Strictly Bluegrass and release party for singer-songwriter Maurice Tani's new album, All In!, at Amoeba Music in San Francisco on Thursday, September 29th at 5pm! All In! is a cross-genre roux of the diversity of the Little Village label set in the framework of Tani's imaginative, romantic, and social writing. Joining Tani live on the Amoeba stage will be award-winning jazz-blues guitarist Chris Cain, sacred steel artist DaShawn Hickman, vocalist and folk singer-songwriter Aireene Espiritu, Bollywood Bluesmaster Aki Kumar, and more. Get the album at Amoeba SF that day to get into the signing line and meet the band!  You must wear a mask to enter the signing line at this event. Founded in 2015, Little Village is an arts non-profit that uses music as a tool to increase cross cultural understanding. They record and produce underground artists whose music has not yet been discovered outside of their communities. Through sharing multicultural music with American roots, Little Village works to deepen understanding and promote empathy.  ALL IN! The official release date is next month but advance copy CDs will be available at a special in-store event/release party at Amoeba Music, SF! Go All In! with them on Thursday, September 29, as Sacred steel artist DaShawn Hickman (who'll be in town for Hardly Strictly Bluegrass), master jazz-blues guitarist Chris Cain, folk n' soul songstress Aireene Espiritu, and Bollywood Bluesman Aki Kumar join Maurice, starting at 5 p.m.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

The official release date is Oct 15 but he's having a special pre-release show for his hometown at Amoeba this Thursday, Sept 29 at 5pm  FREE  ALL AGES at Amoeba Music 1855 Haight St, San Francisco, CA 94117 Little Village presents a special kick-off to Hardly Strictly Bluegrass and release party for singer-songwriter Maurice Tani's new album, All In!, at Amoeba Music in San Francisco on Thursday, September 29th at 5pm! All In! is a cross-genre roux of the diversity of the Little Village label set in the framework of Tani's imaginative, romantic, and social writing. Joining Tani live on the Amoeba stage will be award-winning jazz-blues guitarist Chris Cain, sacred steel artist DaShawn Hickman, vocalist and folk singer-songwriter Aireene Espiritu, Bollywood Bluesmaster Aki Kumar, and more. Get the album at Amoeba SF that day to get into the signing line and meet the band!  You must wear a mask to enter the signing line at this event. Founded in 2015, Little Village is an arts non-profit that uses music as a tool to increase cross cultural understanding. They record and produce underground artists whose music has not yet been discovered outside of their communities. Through sharing multicultural music with American roots, Little Village works to deepen understanding and promote empathy.  ALL IN! The official release date is next month but advance copy CDs will be available at a special in-store event/release party at Amoeba Music, SF! Go All In! with them on Thursday, September 29, as Sacred steel artist DaShawn Hickman (who'll be in town for Hardly Strictly Bluegrass), master jazz-blues guitarist Chris Cain, folk n' soul songstress Aireene Espiritu, and Bollywood Bluesman Aki Kumar join Maurice, starting at 5 p.m.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Phony emotions and weakness at Ketanji hearing! Left and right soft on crime against kids? Evil: Madeleine Albright, MacKenzie Scott, Naomi Osaka!   The Hake Report, Thursday, March 24, 2022 AD: Catch Hake on The Crucible tonight vs. Bastiat: Individual Freedom? https://thehakereport.com/appearances // Cory Booker so expressive about God and Ketanji Onyika Jackson! She tells Democrat Alex Padilla she'd tell the diverse kids: "Persevere!" // RINO Republicans promise to play nice after Dems were so evil to Trump nominees! // SOME INTERESTING CALLS: Ketanji's record on child abuse cases, and more! (SEE BELOW!) // RIP Clinton Sec of State Madeleine Albright; her parents never told her of Jewish heritage? // Other messy/weak women: Bezos ex MacKenzie Scott and mixed tennis player Naomi Osaka! //  MUSIC: "I'm Not Dangerous" - Huntingtons - Plastic Surgery (2000, Tooth and Nail Records) // "Motorbike" - TrackTribe - YouTube Audio Library (Chris selection) //  CALLERS Joe from Portland, OR says co-founder of Amoeba Music stores Marc Weinstein a commie! //  Alexander from California lists reasons he's no longer conservative. //  Bobby from Texas on "War on Men" debate, and Ketanji's record on child abuse cases //  Mckinley from Kansas City, MO is eager to get truth out about child hurters in govt //  Diante from Florida compares the USA to Sodom and Gomorrah: When should we leave? //  Also check out Hake News from today.  TIME STAMPS 0:00:00 Thu, Mar 24, 2022 0:01:29 Hey, guys! 0:04:07 Debate tonight 0:11:00 FALSE START 0:11:34 Ketanji hearing clips 0:23:42 JOE, PDX: Amoeba commie 0:27:11 ALEX: Not conservative, autistic 0:34:00 Get a Job! Patreon! 0:36:10 Republicans play nice 0:43:00 Los Angeles mayor: Karen Bass? 0:47:21 BOBBY, TX: Ketanji on child abuse 0:58:15 Supers: Phony Ketanji 1:02:10 Music intro 1:02:50 "I'm Not Dangerous" - Huntingtons 1:06:15 Reading chat 1:08:23 MCKINLEY: Ketanji on kids 1:18:48 Madeleine Albright, RIP 1:32:02 DIANTE, FL: Leave the country? 1:43:32 Gasoline prices 1:47:39 Mackenzie Scott, Bezos ex-wife 1:52:16 Naomi Osaka, hate speech 1:58:57 "Motorbike" - TrackTribe HAKE LINKS VIDEO ARCHIVE: YouTube | Facebook | Twitter | ALSO SEE: Odysee | BitChute | Rumble  AUDIO PODCAST: Apple | Spotify | Podcast Addict | Castbox | TuneIn | Stitcher | Google | iHeart | Amazon | PodBean  LIVE VIDEO: Odysee | Facebook | Twitter | DLive | YouTube* | Twitch* | NOT Trovo*  SUPER CHAT: Streamlabs | Odysee | SUPPORT: SubscribeStar | Patreon | Teespring  Call in! 888-775-3773, live Monday through Friday 9 AM - 11 AM PT (Los Angeles) https://thehakereport.com/show  Also see Hake News from JLP's show today.  *NOTE: YouTube, Twitch, and Trovo have all censored James's content on their platforms over fake "Community Guidelines" violations. (Trovo permanently blocked The Hake Report.)  BLOG POST: https://www.thehakereport.com/blog/2022/3/24/032422-thu-the-hake-report 

A riveting documentary about the 15-year comeback of vinyl records in America and the power of music in a divided time featuring iconic stores like Amoeba Music in Los Angeles. Co-directors Kevin Smokler & Christopher Boone discuss Vinyl Nation.

Recorrimos los grandes momentos de George Harrison en el Álbum blanco, y luego asistimos a dos históricos show en vivo: Los Beatles actuando frente a la familia real en el Royal Variety Performance de 1963 y Paul McCartney en su presentación sorpresa en la tienda Amoeba Music de Los Ángeles en 2007.

This episode is also available as a blog post: https://thecitylife.org/2021/08/04/north-americas-original-immersive-van-gogh-los-angeles-is-now-open-at-the-iconic-former-amoeba-music-building/ --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/citylifeorg/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/citylifeorg/support

It’s a business doing big things --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/nerdone/support

What's in our bag for Episode #39? A trip into the musical past with founding SNL cast member Laraine Newman discussing her new Audible audio memoir May You Live In Interesting Times, UK polymath producer and musician Steven Wilson on his dystopian new album, The Future Bites, and Marc Weinstein celebrates 30 years of Amoeba Music and the recent opening of their new Hollywood location. Also, Carrie Colliton gives us the RSD News from Raleigh, NC. Rate us, review us, and subscribe wherever you get podcasts. Go to RecordStoreDay.com for the latest RSD News. Sponsored by Tito's Handmade Vodka, Dogfish Head Craft Brewery, Kino Lorber, and Cleopatra/MVD.

Long Beach is moving into the Orange Tier // YouTube stars facing felony charges for staging bank robbery pranks // A federal judge has ordered Lil Nas X's shoes to be removed off the market after Nike filed a suit // Amoeba Music has reopened.

On this episode of the podcast we've got a mix from ELIT (Amoeba Music / KALX Radio). ELIT is a radio DJ in the Oakland/Berkeley, CA area and also curates the hip hop section of Amoeba Music (Berkeley, CA), ranked one of the top record stores in North America by Rolling Stone magazine. He originally put together this mix for February of Season 1 when we were just figuring out what a podcast really was, and what it could be. Here we are in February of season 5, so we thought it'd be an appropriate time to re-post, five years hence. Enjoy! --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/studymusicgroup/message

Conversation with fellow filmmaker Nero Nava. We spoke about film, music, and working at Amoeba Music. He is the director of the film PRIVACY and frontman for BarabaraSteele and City of Women. IG: @privacy_the_film 

This week, host Jason Jefferies is joined by Katherine Seligman, winner of the PEN/Bellwether Prize for Socially Engaged Fiction.  Her new novel is At the Edge of the Haight, which is published by our friends at Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill.  Topics of discussion include homelessness at the border of Golden Gate Park and the Haight, how tech companies have affected the wealth gap in San Francisco, what happens when people don't trust the police, Amoeba Music and the Booksmith, social work, how trauma can influence one to drop out of society, and much more. Copies of At the Edge of the Haight can be purchased here with FREE SHIPPING.

In this audio file I Interviewed Mike Aknin, founder of Good Dope Supply. Good Dope Supply is a company that sells pins inspired by hip hop. You can find their products in stores such as Amoeba Music, Tilted Brim, Fleet Wood and more. In our conversation we spoke about the beginning of Good Dope Supply, top 3 rappers, up and coming bay area artists and much more. Enjoy. STAY CONNECTED WITH GOOD DOPE SUPPLY www.gooddopesupplyco.com STAY CONNECTED WITH UNTITLED UNLIMITED www.UntitledUnlimited.com

In our eighth episode, the pod opens with discussions around an Amoeba Music follow up. SXSW not offering refunds, Bon Jovi cancelling tour to make sure fans get refunded, Live "drive up" gigs in Denmark, Facebook starting virtual concerts behind paywalls, and what will be an ongoing segment for us "Concert: Impossible," where we highlight shows we had no business getting to, but somehow pulled off. We also introduce the #amoebachallenge where we challenge high profile musicians to donate to the Amoeba GoFundMe. (On this episode: (0:00) Episode intro, shoutouts, and epsiode setlist. (4:55) Amoeba Music GoFundMe update and intro to the #amoebachallenge, SXSW not offering refunds, Bon Jovi cancelling tour to make sure fans get refunded, Live "drive up" gigs in Denmark, Facebook starting virtual concerts behind paywalls. (31:00) The bulk of the episode is on our "Concert: Impossible" segment where we highlight shows we had no business getting to, but somehow pulled off. Highlights include Pearl Jam, DRI, Foo Fighters, and many more.)

En este décimo (10) episodio de El Poste del Neo Travel Cast tenemos música de Detective Wadd, Polikarpa y sus Viciosas y Brúnn. Haremos una reseña de la transformación de Amoeba Music y conversaremos del lanzamiento de La Madriguera, un nuevo skatepunkzine en Bogotá. Ya están todos los episodios en todas las plataformas (Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Stitcher, Google, etc). Por favor sigan enviando sus noticias, conciertos, lanzamientos y sobre todo, comentarios. MÚSICA - Detective Wadd - Hijos De La Guerra https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RCUIQ5E4_hU&feature=youtu.be - Polikarpa Y Sus Viciosas - Jóvenes https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hSisLldunc4&t=1037s - Brúnn - Norte https://open.spotify.com/artist/2o0RFnB7S6hWKf0tloLXAv - Moshtaza - Grita Dinamita https://youtu.be/jGqojoK-0do NOTICIAS - Amoeba Music de Hollywood cierra la icónica tienda de Sunset Blvd https://www.amoeba.com/our-stores/store-news/3778/amoeba-hollywood-is-moving-3778/ - Bad Cop / Bad Cop anuncia nuevo disco: https://www.instagram.com/p/B_QnoXOpone/ - Lanzan nuevo zine de Skatepunk en Bogotá https://issuu.com/la.madriguera.sk8/docs/a._portada-convertido - Reacción En Cadena lanza video https://youtu.be/jgLmBe9pt8s - Área 12 lanza nuevo EP en plataformas https://open.spotify.com/album/4K0Hvo9HawkXsGkALPjAbz - August Burns Rd hace cover de NOFX https://youtu.be/juXK6C1OqT8 - Goldfinger lanza nuevo video casero https://youtu.be/jbulqe3JRQw - Bad Religion canceló conciertos https://www.instagram.com/p/B_kq_ZGJsIC/ ATENCIÓN: Si su banda de ska, punk o hardcore (en cualquiera de sus subgéneros) va a lanzar música. Contáctenos y la estrenamos en este programa. Lo mismo noticias y conciertos. Todo de toda Colombia entra en este show POR FAVOR. Darle Like, comentar, repostear, decirle a sus amigos, conocidos, etc. En este espacio cabemos todos y esperamos que todos lo hagan suyo para dar a conocer el trabajo de tantos compositores, músicos y personas que se expresan con esta música. #punk #punkrock #skatepunk #poppunk #hardcore #ska #skapunk #skacore #colombia #punkcolombia #hardcorecolombia #skacolombia #escenapunk #rockcolombia #colombiarock #musicacolombia #newmusic #punkrocker #punkmusic #punkpodcast #podcast #detectivewadd #polikarpaysusviciosas #danibrunn #moshtaza #emprendimiento #covid19v --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/neotravelcast/support

Welcome to another episode of the Media Boat Podcast. Today we have SVOD numbers for Trolls World Tour and SCRIPT Act being announced for Congress. Next, Parks & Rec is back with a special episode and the WGA loses several claims in court. Later, Live Nation CEO Michael Rapino weighs in on last weeks news and Amoeba Music loses its iconic store on the sunset strip. We wrap it all up with Assassin's Creed: Valhalla and Naughty Dog spoilers for The Last of Us Part 2. We also have thoughts on Lego Masters, Brooklyn-99, Fiona Apple and AWOLNATION. All this and more on this weeks episode of the Media Boat Podcast.  

In Episode 7 of the Podcast, Marc Weinstein of Amoeba Music, Co-Founder and Owner, joins us to discuss their GoFundMe page, the current music climate, and history of the music chain! Amoeba music in an independent music chain in California with stores in Berkeley, San Fran, and Hollywood (with the Hollywood location being the largest independent music store in the world). If you're a fan of independent music or a music collector of any sort, you know how iconic Amoeba is. As Amoeba is deemed non essential, the physical storefronts have been closed for weeks. If you have the means, we encourage you to check out and donate to their GoFundMe page. The funds raised will go directly to help Amoeba continue, to take care of a staff of 400+, etc. We can't imagine living in a time where the Amoeba's of the world don't exist. This isn't an episode to miss! (On this episode: (0:00) Introduction to the podcast and episode, with a lead up to the interview. (5:19) Interview with Marc Weinstein of Amoeba Music, Co-Founder and Owner . We discuss their GoFundMe page, the current music climate, the history of the music chain, and many other topics. (61:41) Closing discussion and reaction to the episode

Welp. We got to enjoy about 1-1 1/2 months of living here and now we aren't allowed to go anywhere for a while. Luckily, Andrew has been able to get some traction in job searching. After we discuss our LA tips, we take a trip down Mulholland Drive, talk about a cool online Q&A we had and recommend some comedy shows we saw before all this went down. We review Umami Burger and Amoeba Music and end with a sketch that Jessica wrote several months back. Stay home and stay safe! Checkout our WEBSITE for pictures and more recommendations. Watch our YOUTUBE CHANNEL for more comedy Follow us on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter and subscribe to our Patreon. Andy Daly on Comedy Bang Bang The Improvised Shakespeare short play-

In our third segment of Confessions of a Vinyl Addict, producer Dana Berry speaks with Tom Lynch, longtime record buyer at Amoeba Music in San Francisco. Tom has some great stories about growing up in the music hotbed of Detroit, continuing his vinyl odyssey to the West Coast and landing at the mecca of used records. Continuing our Vinyl News discussion of the tragic Apollo Masters fire, Dave speaks with Gus Elg of Sky Onion Mastering, to get his insight on the loss of one of only two lacquer manufacturers, the other being MDC in Japan. In our store segment, we visit Jonathan Sandler, owner of Village Vinyl & Hifi in Brookline, MA.This show is part of Pantheon Podcasts.

In our third segment of Confessions of a Vinyl Addict, producer Dana Berry speaks with Tom Lynch, longtime record buyer at Amoeba Music in San Francisco. Tom has some great stories about growing up in the music hotbed of Detroit, continuing his vinyl odyssey to the West Coast and landing at the mecca of used records. Continuing our Vinyl News discussion of the tragic Apollo Masters fire, Dave speaks with Gus Elg of Sky Onion Mastering, to get his insight on the loss of one of only two lacquer manufacturers, the other being MDC in Japan. In our store segment, we visit Jonathan Sandler, owner of Village Vinyl & Hifi in Brookline, MA. This show is part of Pantheon Podcasts.

In our third segment of Confessions of a Vinyl Addict, producer Dana Berry speaks with Tom Lynch, longtime record buyer at Amoeba Music in San Francisco. Tom has some great stories about growing up in the music hotbed of Detroit, continuing his vinyl odyssey to the West Coast and landing at the mecca of used records. Continuing our Vinyl News discussion of the tragic Apollo Masters fire, Dave speaks with Gus Elg of Sky Onion Mastering, to get his insight on the loss of one of only two lacquer manufacturers, the other being MDC in Japan. In our store segment, we visit Jonathan Sandler, owner of Village Vinyl & Hifi in Brookline, MA. This show is part of Pantheon Podcasts.

Heavy Content Light Time You know what it is, we back? The best Hip-Hop podcast in the game, starring ya manz and den AL n B. Off rip, this episode is a lil shorter than normal, but we not slackin’ yamean. AL takes you through a quick cop from a record shop. The store in particular is Amoeba Music on Sunset Blvd. Irv Gotti - The Remixes, Wu-Tang Clan - Enter The 36 Chambers, Redman - Dare Iz A Darkside and special unnamed pick up. Ya manz get into these albums and what it was like when they first encountered them. Talk about the importance of vinyl and owning music, especially if it means something to you. What did you think when you first saw an iPod? Do you know what a Walkman or a Discman is? Story Time With AL - My First Mixtape  Story Time With B - The Adventures of Slick Rick Do you know what it feels like to have someone borrow a cd? My advice to you: Get these records while you can! Album Recommendations:   AL Wu-Tang Clan - Enter The 36 Chambers Redman - Dare Iz A Darkside Irv Gotti - The Remixes B Sade - Diamond Life iLL Al Skratch - Creep Wit’ Me Lackslry Castell - Morning Glory This episode is not as long of a convo, but loaded with gems. All we goon’ say is, “Don’t say we never told ya’ll, yamean.” Sea Snacks holla at us! 100 Lift Yaself!

FACE B - PASTILLE RADIOPHONIQUEDes groupes phares par des morceaux rares Los Angeles, 2008 : trois collègues du disquaire Amoeba Music et fans de surf rock décident de créer Allah-Las. Un quatrième membre rejoint la formation et en 2012, ils sortent ensemble leur premier album éponyme sur le label Innovative Leisure, co-fondé par Hanni El Khatib. Retour sur l'histoire d'Allah-Las au travers de titres rares du groupe :- (extrait : Catamaran)- Every Girl (2014)- Burning In Heaven (2016)- Autumn Dawn - alternative take (2017)- Hereafter (2017) Retrouvez davantage d'informations dans le podcast de l'émission...Et rejoignez ici la communauté Facebook de Face B - pastille radiophonique !

"Jazz cigarettes now available in the Jazz Room": join Nancy and her guest Yvonne Prinz, YA author and co-founder of Amoeba Music, the world's largest independent music store. They talk personal and retail reinvention, finding time to take your foot off the gas at midlife, and what happens to you if you're a Canadian who doesn't like Rush. The post Ep 4 Author/Amoeba Music co-founder Yvonne Prinz appeared first on Midlife Mixtape .

On Solecast 37 I catch up with LA Based electronic music pioneer Daedelus.  Daedelus has 17 or so full length albums and worked with such labels as Alpha Pup, Ninja Tune, Brainfeeder and many others. He also runs a small imprint called Magical Properties.  He tours the world with his intense & unique live electronic PA sets and stands apart as a true innovator.  Check out/ support his music, and follow him on twitter.  (Transcript below) Topics Discussed: The life of an electronic musician in 2017 How the ruling class have weaponized absurdism  Current trends in rap and electronic music Hacking, circuit bending, & the rebelliousness of anologue music Reacting to trump and coping with it The assault on truth Economics & the future of labor Science fiction writers & the present  The role of record label The LA underground hip-hop scene of the early/mid 90s & its evolution to the LA beat scene. The transitory nature of things. Transcript: Sole (Tim Holland): Today's guest is my homie Daedelus. He's a beat-maker, a producer, an experimental artist, a performer, a pioneer, based out of Los Angeles, California. We're going to have a wide-ranging conversation about rap and electronic music, the shifts that are happening in society; we'll talk about hacking and how motherfuckers are dealing with Donald Trump and the current assault on the truth; how economics is shifting, and labor, and robots. It's all happening at once. We'll talk about science fiction, and just the transitory nature of shit that's happening right now. We'll talk about his music; we'll talk about some of the stuff he's into, his record label. It's conversations like this where we really get to crack into and get into an artist's mind, and really hear them go deep on shit. I was thoroughly impressed by how thoughtful and what a philosopher Daedelus is, as someone who says he doesn't read very much. What's new with you, man? What have you been up to? Last time I saw you was in New Zealand at that festival. Daedelus (Alfred Darlington): New Zealand is such an out-there place. I've gone back since, and I've found the scene to have developed. I've been doing the clinically insane thing of repeating processes and expecting different results: putting out a record (I've put out a few records, I think, since last we saw each other), doing multiple tours (sometimes having lots of bodies in rooms and having a lot of records sold, sometimes having very few), having projects totally disappear into the ether. And I still find a lot of relevance to it, but it does seem like an affront to the thoughtful world when you're releasing a full-length record and people just want their single little nugget of information to make all of their assumptions from. It's beautiful, though. I've always been troubled by the commerce aspect of creation. Even though desperately wanting to make a full-time living out of this life, having to balance the creation of recorded music versus the performance of improvised music or more spontaneous music, there are a lot of troublesome moments where you have to put a price tag on it and sell it to somebody and charge a cover. It's a tough line to draw. When you're just a musical soundtrack to somebody's intoxication, it's hard. The last couple years of playing raves and EDM events and just being someone's turn-up music is hard. But I still find so much to it. TH: I have the exact same thing with hip-hop, where it's I'm up there, I've worked so hard on these lyrics, I'm trying to communicate these complicated things, and yet I'm playing these shitty hip-hop shows with a bunch of wack rappers, and I'm like, I could say anything right now, nobody cares. It makes me want to be home. AD: I wonder, too—because I feel this in a pronounced way, but especially because the pendulum has really swung back toward hip-hop—I feel like the MC is really back in a strong way, like hip-hop as a genre has a different new definition. The same with the electronic versions of that. The Trap sound has progressed. Mumble Rap has kind of progressed. If you're doing something that reflects a reality of even a few years ago—in the case of electronic music it's like if you're even quoting Dubstep—it's as if there's this group amnesia towards the genre. I don't blame them. It's a pretty flash-bang grenade of a thing to have gone off, and I can understand. When the sparkle blurs out of your eyes, then you don't ever need to listen to Dubstep again in some ways. But still, if you're not playing Trap music right now, do people even consider it hip-hop unless it's some backpack throwback night? TH: I thought it was more friendly for electronic artists, but I guess you're right. I think maybe Denver is the last place where people can get away with playing Dubstep. AD: There are a few pockets. There are different genres that get footholds in places and they live depending on the people breathing life into it. And then there's always the genres that haven't hit yet that everyone expects to go big at some point. Juke is one of those. Footwork. In the hip-hop realm of things, there are people lacing their raps with jazz or gestures towards gospel. Chance the Rapper, even Kendrick. But that hasn't gone wide yet, necessarily. Maybe because it takes a different kind of musicianship. You're always wondering what's going to blow up, and I'm sure there's somebody out there who gets paid to determine this kind of thing with divining rods. TH: 2008-2009 was a huge turning point for that stuff, I think. That's when internet rap was like a Wild West, during the rise of Lil B and Odd Future. And I feel like that's where weird motherfuckers could just make a video and next thing you know Eminem's management is managing you behind the scenes and nobody knows, and now that's just the way shit is done. There's no underground anymore. There's very few really truly localized scenes, because the way people are experiencing music has so dramatically changed from when we started doing it almost twenty years ago. AD: A localized scene, like the Korean Drill Rap scene getting big now everywhere—there's no reason that we should have that on our lips, in some ways, because it is such a foreign language with a different cadence, but it's the kind of thing where they are pantomiming a lot if artists who are a lot closer. And maybe it's the shininess of it, the newness of it, the way a reflection can more accurately describe the thing you're looking at, in some ways... I also feel like there was confusion about the internet at that point, about how music would best be served. A lot of people were still fighting against the overall trends, the rivers that were going towards the big ocean of music culture. And now it's kind of solved, as funny as that sounds. It still doesn't seem like anybody is really making it work. It isn't like streaming is really working for people. There's still a ton of political behind-the-scenes stuff going on with payola, and who's making money and who's not, and the DJ Mag Top 100 is such a joke...but it still feels more solved than it did a few years ago. TH: What do you think the prospects are for independent music and experimental music and political music over the next few years? AD: I think it's tremendous. I just don't think it's necessarily going to hit a huge swathe of ears. I don't think it's necessarily going to be able to—this is a funny term—democratically exist. It's either going to exist with the sharp stick-end of a campaign by people who really do that thing— not a record label, but a media machine that can jab people with that stick—or it's going to be something holistic that wells up but isn't necessarily any one person. I don't see it as being a singular creative force, because it's so depreciated in our current machinations. I've had situations in the past where I was sponsored by Scion or Blackberry or Apple or whatever, companies that really had huge resources to bear, but they had no ideas, so they would just throw money around at weirdos like myself (and many, many others), to see what would stick. And now these brand companies are much more savvy, and music is just a small part of it, with a few exceptions—you see some brands that really make music, sort of as a post they are leaning on. But it's really the exception rather than the rule nowadays. From a political standpoint, that's the most interesting thing to me, because from the social aspect of music being depreciated, now not as many people are going to the local club just to have a night. Either there's a name of a person who you've known and you want to see playing at your local club, or you're staying at home watching as much Netflix as you can binge on. That seems like the dichotomy. The inertia is not to go out, ever. And then if you finally somehow get pushed out of that door, it's very controlled. But one area I feel like is really dynamic right now is protest. I would say political music, but it's more specifically protest music, protest sound. Because it's not only the political scene that I'm talking about, but it's also the existing systems. Look at the rise of the analog Eurorack music scene, the modular electronic synthesizer scene. There is no reason that should be happening in 2017, that people are getting modular units and adding it together and making weirdo synth music—other than the fact that it's scarce, it's not easy to do, it's not replicable, you can't really record it properly, it has to exist in space, and it is like a rebellious moment. It feels rebellious right now. TH: I don't know if you're familiar with this guy McKenzie Wark. He wrote the Hacker Manifesto. You know this? AD: I try to keep my toes dipped in that space a little bit. My friends tell me things, and then I go try to check it out, and sometimes it's readily available, and other times it's weirdly not on the surface. TH: Basically his extension of a hacker would go to a circuit bender. It would go to people who are hacking, but also circuit bending is part of that. Didn't you get started with circuit bending? Is that right? AD: I did a lot of it. All my records have some amount of that, with some permanent bends, which is a little different—there are two kinds of circuit bending. There's the kind where you are trying to modify and adapt and mutate existing instruments to have new feature sets. And then there's the other kind of circuit bending where you are looking for aleatoric chance, things that will never happen again because the way the capacitors decide to work that day, because of the way your fingers have a certain amount of spit on them or not. Do you know what I mean? I feel like the definition of hacker could include both, but there's the one kind of hacker who, through programming or modification, is subverting existing systems to do what they want, and the other kind of hacker who is looking into the crystal ball of electronics or devices or things, to get someplace that nobody would have thought to achieve. I think it's really important to look at both, because in our society especially, we are going to weird places with things—musically and otherwise; this is including everything—and bringing something back from that. That's shedding some light on our current moment a lot. TH: What do you think about our current moment, man? Two years ago, did you think we would have a fucking reality star for a president? A sexist racist fascist? AD: No. I travel a lot. I know you do too. I see all kinds of reality playing out. Some of it is a lot gentler. China is fucked. The so-called Communist regime is a really tough system of central control that is in everybody's lives constantly, and yet also when you go there—depending on the city they're living in, people are relatively out of touch with these grand decisions going into defense spending or weird limitations on their internet. They're not concerned about that. That isn't where their eyes are at. But you can still feel it touching every aspect. Maybe it's my perspective—the news media, the way things get covered; you can see it in a perspective but also see how skewed it is. And it's much the same when you come back to the States. I always felt like we had our own skewing and such. But now, it is such a topsy-turvy through-the-looking-glass...and it's not just the top of the ticket. It's not just Trump or Drumpf or whatever. I don't like saying that dude's name. I don't like writing it down, I don't like saying it. It's kind of weird. It's like an allergic response or something. TH: It's because he's pervaded every aspect of our lives already. AD: I get dizzy and weak—it feels like an allergic response. My strength is sapped, my will and my resolve—especially right after the election, I was in such a malaise (and I'm sure many, many people were). Every time you have a political system that you're involved in or you feel some sort of involvement in—it's like any kind of contest or competition—you can have sore loser feelings, but this is so much deeper. The deceptions and the psychological response—it's not just this surface depression. It felt way deeper and it took me a lot longer for me to dig myself into a place... Maybe I can tell you the way I've been coping with it and compare notes with you. For me, it went from being this broad idea of a group of humanity that I really still care about, but now I have about four or five people in my life that I feel like I need to look out for. That isn't totally disassociated from the larger politic, but I really feel like the person who's at my side is the person who I need to be looking after. Even if it's a stranger on a train, if they say some dumb shit I've got to call them out, and at least try to listen and hear them, but also speak to them if I really feel like there's some kind of racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic—if I hear some direct, blatant shit, I've got to say something. But in terms of yelling into the internet, I'm not going to contribute positively to that environment. So that's been my focus. That's felt therapeutic. That thing has felt therapeutic. TH: For me, right when he got elected, I was like (of course this is a white guy saying this), okay, he's president now, he got what he wanted, maybe he's not going to do all the fucked up shit. He'll realize the limitations of power and he'll roll with the status quo. And there were these huge protests everywhere, and I was like, okay, at least people are going to fight back. But about a month and a half, two months in, it's like, fuck, man, everyday it's something else. It's so much egregious stuff. The Russia shit—I mean, talk about living in a sci-fi novel. AD: Totally. All those silly films with the Russkies coming over the Arctic Circle to take us over...it's bananas. But on top of it, there's part of me (and this is the conspiratorial part of me—not InfoWars yet, but fuck, the fact that that's now part of our common parlance is just bananas)...if you look at Beckett and the absurdity that was talked about. It seemed like the only rational reaction to the World Wars was really weird electronic music and absurdity, dadaism, all these things. What else do you do? We're almost to the inverse of that, where absurdity now is used as a political tool of the ruling powers to make you not look anymore. Because every day there is a new absurd, crazy, real thing that, although factual, just makes you shake your head in this Etch-A- Sketch kind of way to get rid of it. Have you ever been in an earthquake before? It's profound, because we have all this sensory apparatus that grounds us in earth; we have the idea of magnetic north, and our inner ear is constantly balancing us, and our eyes give us this idea of a level plane. So when you shake that even slightly, the mind goes, “What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,” and you get this moment of, “This is not happening.” And that's part of the reason why earthquakes feel so crazy, because all of your systems are going into alarm. But this same kind of feeling is going on every day, and that button is being pushed so much. I'm trying to figure out if it's a concerted effort to do this, to make the world so absurd that we'll accept any plausibility. Part of the conspiracy is that the Russians have been doing these actions in a lot of different political systems that aren't directed towards electing one person or another, it's just about getting rid of facts. You can't make people believe one thing or another in this current age, but you can get rid of the possibility of a truth. TH: Aside from all the people it's affected, Donald Trump's presidency has been an assault on truth itself. Steve Bannon is, like, a Leninist or something. Did you hear that? That he studied Lenin in his early years? I don't know if Steve Bannon is really the one pulling the strings or if these are just tactics Trump learned in the boardroom, about assaulting other people's facts so that they're meaningless, and just repeating lies. And he never even responds to it. He's already lying about something else. He gets called out on one lie, and he's got three others. It's insane. AD: I do believe that in this current challenging of factual reporting or factual statistics or data or all of these different things—that, again, the arts, the humanities, and music in particular is especially appropriate as a response, because it doesn't speak in direct terms, but it does speak to a deeper truth. It generally is playing on physiological and philosophical ideas that point towards a deeper truth. So maybe this would be a moment of extremely effective protest song and inspirational art that will really get to the essence of it, because everything else is just—as soon as you write the words down, like any kind of punishment, they start to lose their meaning. So maybe this is really an especially appropriate time for the humanities. This is definitely one thing that keeps me interested in pursuing that. On the flipside, you have groups like Wikileaks which serve such an important role, and arguably this would be its time to shine. This should be the moment where Wikileaks and similar platforms should be speaking truth to power like they were always supposed to. I know this is partially spin— this is partly just the way the system has rocked us—but doesn't it feel like just the fact that Donald Trump hasn't come out condemning the recent leak against American intelligence operations...it's such a weird moment for these speaking-truth-to-power platforms. TH: Truth and fact have been so attacked over the last few years, everything is relative on the internet now. Whereas sixty years ago, everybody was watching the same news. There were only six channels on TV. It was at least easier to make sense of things. But now that we have millions of sources, we have all this confirmation bias and filter-bubbles, and we literally only have to see the worldview that we want to see. AD: Totally. Fifty-sixty years ago there were only six channels, and you could argue that there were a lot more racist people, and a lot more people who were not checking in. It seems like there's this trope right now of trying to understand “Trump's America”, and it's perceived-liberal media outlets taking a closer look at the “middle” of America, where “Trump's America” is, in the Ohios and the Michigans and these kinds of places, where the topsy-turvy politics are largely just gerrymandering, creating this Trump thing. I saw one recently where they were interviewing these people who said, “I don't really care about Russia. I don't know why they're treating Trump so bad.” People were saying such stupid shit. Why are we paying attention to people who just don't care? But it also raised the question: why do I care? My voice doesn't matter. It is one of a lot of privilege in many, many ways. And I don't have that much to add to the soup. Why do I care? Of course, I don't know. My heart beats, and I really appreciate the natural environment around us, and I want there to be people in the future who can appreciate those things, and I like the freedom of data that my music and output travels on, and I like the way I received that kind of data in the past, and I kind of want to see that continue and flourish. There are just so many different points where I feel like, “Wait, there is a lot of importance to this.” I just wish there were people out there who could help describe the framework of action who aren't so inherently political or politicized in nature. Did you read that Shaun King piece that just came out today about the irrelevance of the Democratic Party? It's the usual refrain. You have these clear mandates from an upswelling of resistance and populism from a Democratically-leaning population, but that are not being addressed by this upper-echelon leadership, the 1% of the Democratic Party. A lot of it has to do with corporate involvement and big interests that arguably are sloshing money around the whole political system, so I don't know about singling out the Democrats and making it seem like the Republicans are this or that. But it's like a rallying call for a new kind of party that does address more of what was being talked about in Occupy and Black Lives Matter, and these upswelling political movements that for some reason aren't exactly on the tips of the Democratic Party's tongues, even though it's kind of low-hanging fruit, it seems like. That should have been the shit that was all in the mix. TH: The thing is with Trump is that Trump can get up there and be like, “I'm the racist boss you wish you had. I'm going to fix things for you.” But he's lying to them and telling them that he's going to bring their jobs back. The jobs aren't coming back. There aren't enough jobs. Even if he does bring the jobs back in ten years, robots are going to be doing that work in twenty, so forget about it. AD: And everybody who is doing Uber and Lyft right now and whatever else in the gig economy...fuck. This is kind of an aside, but I've been using a lot of robotic assistance in my musical life recently. I've been using robotic drums, and before that I was using some robotic assistance in a visual show. And I've been finding it so interesting, with so many creative places to go, with the precision and the mechanical nature of the stuff. But it does seem like the overarching concern, if we derive our existence and our purpose in life through work, and then that gets taken away, what is America going to do if you have to somehow look in a mirror and come up with something that gives your life meaning, when we've made a list of such commodities that just don't exist in any real, soul- filling fashion. TH: What they've done is strip meaning from everyone's lives, and we've become consumers. This seems like an obvious thing to say. But the more time I spend gardening and growing food and producing food, all that shit is work. The community organizing I do, all this work I do, I don't get paid for any of it. But it's in many ways the most meaningful. These are the things we would do if we didn't have to work. If we would educate ourselves and educate each other and create systems of mutual aid...if we took away work as the central thing in our life, people would flourish. That's why every day I'm on Twitter I see universal basic income tweets. I feel like that movement has gained a lot of steam in Europe, but I would love it if we just skipped over socialism in the States, and Bernie or whoever would run on UBI, and that's what people are demanding, because otherwise our society is just going to fucking fall apart into some crazy tech fiefdom with floating Amazon warehouses above our cities with drones delivering us shit. It's fucking weird, dude. I get so much shit delivered through Amazon. I just have trucks pulling up all throughout the day. Like, oh, what's in this package? I don't even remember what I ordered. My mailman is always talking shit: “I'm so sick of delivering dog food to people.” And I'm like, “Motherfucker, you complain now, but there's going to be a drone doing your job in ten years.” AD: I totally agree. And I feel like there needs to be a distinction made between work for money and work for social good. They all have their value, and the value system is really skewed right now. I really like the basic income idea as well. I know Scandinavian countries have been trying it for a minute. I just don't know if it can exist in the purely economic form, if it needs some basis in a mineral resources or something—if it can just be informational value with an invented economy...I've heard different arguments, and it's tough. The idea of inflation and greed in the system... A few years ago, every time I met an economist or an accountant or anyone who handled money in any kind of real way, I always wanted them to explain systems to me, because it seems so invented. There's a Nobel Prize for economics. Somebody out there is getting a big hunk of metal around their neck every year in this field that is really important but also totally imaginary. And the basic principles of it are sometimes grounded in such incredible racism or sexism, it's crazy. TH: It's capitalism. AD: Dammit. So here's the thing. I love coffee. I adore the high I get, but even more the taste, and the culture. It's this natural resource that takes some really specific space to grow. It doesn't like a lot of variation in its environment, but it flourishes in these small bands between the Tropic of Capricorn and the Tropic of Cancer. It just happens. And you can have these farmers using these practices to make this amazing bean, essentially, this amazing fruit, and then if it doesn't get dried properly it fucks it all up. The whole thing falls apart. Then if you have this other group of people who get together and they process and move the fruit properly, then you get this grain pit of the fruit that goes through a roaster, and if the roaster does a bad job, it's game over. But if the roaster really takes the time to consider the grain product in their hand and they really go through the process and they treat it right with the cooling and heating and storing and everything, then it goes to the barista. And then the barista can fuck it up. Every part of this chain is this amazing confluence of economic scale that creates this thing that I can buy for way too much money, with way too much privilege, and then enjoy for literally ten seconds. It can be super transformative, and I can speak on all the ways that I love it, but also, never throughout the course of human history were we able to get to this kind of precision on this wild, neverending group of factors that could mess up at any point and ruin everything, shake the baby to death. It's crazy that at the end of that chain you can get this beautiful cup of coffee. I marvel at that. We get all this kind of stuff, and it's only because of this ridiculous economics that it's possible. TH: Speaking of artisanal shit, do you ever go to that place on Sunset Boulevard in LA? I've ordered a bunch of shit from there. I can't get spices from anywhere but there. That's where these top chef motherfuckers are shopping. But I don't know. Just to play the devil's advocate, I would say that if you remove the economic incentive today, people would still find a way to achieve all of those steps. Because people would still want amazing coffee. AD: I partially agree. I think people would desire it. But I also think there is another factor of people not caring. And a lot of people get their coffee that's way expensive and immediately hit it with some milk that isn't necessarily super considered, or they throw their Splenda in there, and it just tastes like milk or Splenda, you know what I mean? And it has to do with education and people's pallets and it's all very subjective. And it's the same thing with music. People will go out and buy these lossless formats and then listen to it through Beats by Dre. And then on the flipside you have people with their super hifi systems and they're listening to music that was recorded with fidelity that was ridiculously low. But their ears are gilded with gold, so to speak, so even the shittiest sound is somehow supposed to be gussied up by these fancy speakers. And all of this is to say that I feel like we're—whether devil's advocate or not, we are just in a tough moment of discerning...there's no consensus. We're kind of at a weird precipice. Are you familiar with the term tipping point? In the artistic fashion? In most art forms—especially temporal art forms, like music or poetry, but it happened in the visual arts too—you have a moment in the scheme where the artist will take an extra amount of time, typically, or an extra bit of emphasis to show an emotional depth. This is especially effective, in the arts, to have these kinds of “push moments” where there's a little bit more ask of the audience, basically. And that ask then has a reward, and it's almost a virtuosity being displayed by the artist to know when the time is to push that button. And you could argue that the same thing is true in the consumer world, in a way. That there are these moments of challenge that then is released, that should have some of the same relevance, but it's like—yeah, we've stripped all that. We don't have tipping points anymore. We don't have people waiting for their meal and then being satiated by it. You're expected to have it immediately from the drone in the sky. TH: That's how people are experiencing news and music and everything now. I keep going back to it, but it's just such a weird postmodern time that we're in. When I was kid thinking about the year 2000 I figured it would be working four hours a day, and then 2010 hit and it was like, you know what? Nothing's really changed. Everything is the same. All we have is phones. But now, I was reading the Wikileaks thing and they're trying to hack into computerized cars to crash them. Oh, okay. There are megamillionaires trying to go to Mars. Corporations are going to be on Mars before states will, and that's crazy. Would you go to Mars? AD: No. I love the idea of exploration, and I can safely say that I've done a lot of that in myself— psychedelics and otherwise—around some of these deeper questions I had as a kid that never were solved but I asked aloud of myself...but I would sooner go to the bottom of the ocean than I would go to Mars. There's so much about the world that we live in that we have rarely explored. Again with the same factors of very limited engagement, I do feel like if people went to the bottom of the ocean, they would have a lot more sympathy and compassion for the bottom of the ocean. And I don't see why we're spending all this money to try to go to outer space, besides the fact that it's obviously a lot of novelty and promise and potential, and it would be great so that we wouldn't have one calamitous event on Earth and lose the entire population. It'd be great. But I just don't understand why we're not going down and we're always going up. TH: Duh, man. It's because the Earth is hollow. I have actual literal flat-earthers on my Twitter timeline, and I'll make a joke like, “More NASA propaganda! They're showing Earth as a circle!” And people will be like, “Oh, man, I'm so glad you're woke.” Not to keep talking about this stuff, but it's fucking crazy and hilarious to me that in 2017 people would be arguing that the world is flat. If that's not a metaphor for Donald Trump's presidency, I don't know what is. AD: I think it's a very interesting problem, but also a really unique opportunity. I do find it really interesting: these people are supposedly really hungry for the truth and really feeling like they need to be part of the detective squad, the other Sherlocks. It's kind of cool that people feel so much purpose in this way, but they seem to be so tin-eared about facts. And not to say that one set of facts from a national agency should be totally trusted, but this idea that somehow they are privileged to some truth that they heard randomly somewhere—they seem like they heard it off a mountain, off some tablets, and that's the ultimate end-all be-all and somebody else's tablets that came off a very similar mountain don't have any relevance. TH: That's like an identity thing. It's like, my identity is linked to this brand new information I have. No one is more annoying than the newly converted. “I have the only truth and everyone else is wrong.” AD: I just wish these people would wear more cultish robes. They should commit. I'm saying this jokingly, but I kind of mean it truthfully. I kind of want people to go all the way if they're going to go there. But they just have one crazy theory about chemtrails, and then everything else can be somehow normal in the world, but they're just like yeah, chemtrails. Come on. Go all the way. TH: Wear a tinfoil hit. Wear your bathrobe out. AD: My dad wears a bathrobe all the time. It's great. It's fashionable. He's kind of crazy. It works. Maybe we're all in that space. So here's a question. I don't remember the term for it, but there is a concept that the future can't exist until it's written about by sci-fi writers, that until something appears on Star Trek it won't really be invented. It's kind of an imagination thing. If there's a simultaneous invention that happens in the world it's because of technological pressures that have been shown. There is a kind of zeitgeist about the physical problems or commercial issues that then breed solutions that take a form that generally seems to correspond to “science fiction,” even if it's things like inventing teleportation. Which seems so futuristic and science-fiction-y in Star Trek but is now actually being developed. People are part of this because it was dreamed up by somebody. So why aren't we hiring teams of writers to just write the craziest timelines to get us there? TH: Maybe we are and we just haven't read them yet. As you were saying that, I was thinking about why it's so important to expand your political imagination. If that's true, if all of these technological ideas are like a stream rippling through the eons that eventually become real, it's like The Secret on a civilization-wide scale. Maybe by creating a more radical imagination we really can have, a thousand years from now, people living in a world that we are imagining now. Marx or Adam Smith—when Adam Smith was writing, I don't think he thought, oh, this is the way it's going to be forever. Or even the Bible. AD: I don't think it has to take a thousand years. There has to be some structure that makes it happen way faster than people imagine. Because again, these books are set in the distant future, but this stuff comes way faster. There's something about that. But I do agree with you about the political systems thing. Just for instance, the third party thing is always shut down. It's always like, “Nope, not going to happen. We live in a two-party system.” And if ever somebody could really change our imagination to think more parliamentarian, I think it would happen in a second. We have way too many different camps for it not to happen quick. I mean, it obviously serves its purpose right now, but I think the nuance that's going on makes it seem obvious—we don't have Whigs anymore, but we have a thousand other things that could easily be in that place. TH: Yeah. I mean, David Graeber has this speech on bureaucracy and technology, and he really looks at the form of governance that the United States uses, and so much of it was based around a time where it would take a pigeon two months to make it across the country, when we were limited by railroads. AD: We went a long time without a nationwide-spanning railroad. We went a long time with horses that could only go so far. TH: Do you read graphic novels or science fiction? AD: I used to read a lot of them, but I'm also dyslexic, so I've always had a hard time. Especially the harder science fiction, I love it. Your Larry Nivens and these kinds of people, I like that stuff. It just takes me a long time to piece through it. I like graphic novels, it's sometimes easier, but it depends on the writer. Some people just have so much text that it really makes my eyes jump around a ton. TH: Somebody just gave me this Pax Romana graphic novel. Are you familiar with this? It's fucking awesome, man. I never read this shit, but it's like, the civilization has gone to shit and all that remains is the Roman Church and they send people back in time to take over the world before Mohammed is born. Of course it's born of psychotic Christian Eurocentric fantasies, but they go back there with nuclear weapons and drones and create an army of god. It was a fun read. Let me ask you some more music questions, actually. Do you still run a record label? AD: Yeah. I would call it more of an imprint than a record label, though it functions to do a lot of the normal label stuff. The mandate of the record label initially was initially to be a platform for artists to overcome the catch-22 of the music industry, which is: if you don't have a release, you're not going to get attention, and you're not going to be considered by record labels, and so you have to have a release to get attention, essentially. The label functioned as being a lot of artists' first release, the place where they could put a stick in the ground and then hopefully grow the seeds that they planted in that earth out into other spaces. I feel really good about that. Over time, now, I've had a few artists who have released multiple times on the label, and it's been a platform to release older music, some overview stuff of my own as well as others'. But it isn't this kind of thing to yell from the rooftops, or a movement, it's just been a little platform for these kinds of artists in the past. TH: I was looking at it and going back and listening to some interviews you did where you talked about it. I started a record label a couple years ago. And I mean honestly I'm probably just going to shut it down this year, or close its doors for a while, just because of having a kid and there's so much shit going on, I just can't give it what it needs. But one of the main reasons that I started the label is because I felt like blogs and things—you know, there's no John Peel in 2017. And all the old ways that people were discovering music have disappeared...there were these things that mattered, that if they happened it could set off a chain of events for people. And those milestones don't really exist any more. I feel like that is the function of record labels, now. Even on a small boutique imprint...my question is, do you feel like record labels are replacing blogs and publications? Like they're this other filter, a source of discovery that's almost more important than anything else today? AD: Yes and no. I think they did function like that about ten years ago. And then over time it became the curation of a few people who did some festival circuits. A while ago Pitchfork ceased being a really critical publication and more of a series of lifestyle choices. And then you had some labels that really represent (and you still have this on occasion) an idea, and that's potent enough to keep their existence. But largely they function as tax shells so you can have loss-leaders and some way of communicating a release, but really most labels just function as P&D deals for publishing houses to license music to movies, television, and radio, essentially. That's how the larger indies hold on, is through these licensing deals. The people who have taken over the role that you're speaking about, I really feel, are collectives nowadays. There are a lot of collectives—be it focused, usually, around a genre or sometimes more focused around a location— that become the figureheads of their individual pocket of scene and transmit their culture in a way that seems authentic and people like. Look at Teklife—which has a label aspect, but really it's a loose collection of people who are all under the banner of this Juke scene. Or Soulection, with their party sound, and they have tons of nights all over the world that are just selection nights, but you never know which DJs you're going to catch from the crew; they have some bigger-name people in the crew, but really it's just a sound that's really the modern party sound. And similarly with TeamSupreme and Brainfeeder—I mean, I'm kind of quoting off things that might be a little more underground than your listenership knows about, or is kind of specific, but this is really where that curation is happening, where you have people blanket-wise just ascribing themselves to one of these collectives, rather than a label. TH: Huh. I guess that is true. Of course Hellfire Club comes to mind. I was very excited about Hellfire Club when that was going on. It made me want to live in LA. AD: And there are exciting outgrowths. Even though Hellfire Club fell apart, there are still exciting outgrowths that are emanating from that. But you see that one moment where you have this supergroup feeling where people could really get behind it and were excited and could pour their energies into something. You could feel it. It emanates, and it's still rippling. I feel like that's one of the reasons why it has such powerful sustain. And I also think there's a collectivism in a lot of people coming together, that friction of different voices together, rather than having one main A&R or one blog writer. That was never sustainable. You always see through the facade of the one- person perspective. It never seems to work. You have these great runs. And even Peel had his ups and downs. But part of the reason why he was so abundant is because he had so many different outgrowths. He had his radio show and his critical writing. And it's interesting: it was a different time period, too, obviously, kind of a slower time (think of Cream magazine being all just that one dude), just a different way. But I feel like we desperately need more critical vision in our art structures. If it's another group of fifteen-year-olds who get together and make a crazy sound, that's fine, but if there's no knowledge of history or no knowledge of trajectory, they all seem to tear each other apart and go away rather than figure out how to sustain. TH: I don't have any experiences in my life that sound anything like you're describing, so I don't know what you're talking about... I'm writing a book right now about hip-hop and radical politics, and I keep thinking about Project Blowed and I keep wanting to ask people in LA what the impact of that scene was and how it influenced you. AD: I can tell you when I was really young, when I was in high school in the early nineties, the Blowed, or Freestyle Fellowship and those kinds of things—everybody knew the surface of what was going on in gangsta rap, especially in '92 when half the kids were all grunged out and the other half of kids were all gangsta rap, and it was starting to hit the airwaves in LA, and then you had LA hip-hop radio going from a dance mix of freestyle music from Miami and some Information Society, like, weird electro EDM music, industrial music that was going on—to full-on gangsta rap. That was this new sound that had older roots, but for the airwaves, you had people going deeper on the culture and going to the world stage, going to the Blowed, wherever it was being held, specifically the Good Life, and getting tapes from people who would dismiss you, would rip you off —you'd go up there and you'd be lucky to walk away with the thing you were trying to get. But it was this whole level of depth that you could go, which I know was not happening in a lot of other cities. You might be hearing music, but to actually go talk to the people who are making it go, witness them in person, and get the bug, and really feel like there's something really amazing happening, like there's a movement happening, that's special. But then on top of it: the riots. The LA riots happened in '92. Rodney King. And I mean, that lit fires in people that both tore apart a lot of the scene and caused a lot of friction in this way where the places you went were kind of dangerous, or perceived as dangerous to go...it became a very palpable danger. For years after that, I remember there were clubs that you were warned about. And that's part of the reason I feel like I did rave music. Because I think every kid wants to inhabit that danger, and LA had an amazing underground warehouse scene that at times played right there with all the LA underground hip-hop. You would catch those same names MCing for jungle artists, or being present in the club scene as much as they were at the Good Life. It's like, there was enough confusion that you could see the bleed between the things way before it happened in the overground worlds of electronic and hip-hop coming together. TH: You're talking about Peace, and Myka 9 and shit, right? Is that who you mean? AD: The core Blowedians for sure, but also look at Global Phlowtations. They were taking chances with their beats in the mid- to late nineties that were crazy. Thavius Beck is born of that, and Satchel Page. There are a lot of interesting voices. And they actually had female MCs in a real way —not to depreciate the other people in project Blowed that were doing the same, but... You know, when I first started touring, in the early aughts, I would go to places like Japan or Europe, and every once in a while I would trip over these stores that were just selling west coast hip-hop. Amazing, right? And I would go in there, and I'd ask, “Where's the LA hip-hop section?” and it's like, no, the store was all an LA hip-hop section. I learned more about what was going on in my own city through places like that. There was one particular one in either Sweden or Norway (one of the Scandie countries, I don't remember which one unfortunately, it's been a long time) that was so dedicated to the culture, and they had all these obscure side projects and shit. It's like, what are you talking about? These people have only one record out, had these one-off tape side projects, and they'd exist in these other places in these other countries, and I never would have found out about it in LA because it was just such a hidden culture that you weren't supposed to go out and engage with. It's tremendous. TH: I totally forgot about all that shit. In the Bay, too, you'd go to Amoeba Music, and sell five hundred CDRs. Amoeba Music paid my rent for the first two years of my music career. It's so crazy. It's things like that that I think about a lot, and this is one of the questions I had for you. How has the way you work changed over the fifteen years that you've been a full-time musician? AD: I mean, in some ways it's remained doggedly the same. I'll have a notion, and follow that notion down a winding path, and that will either yield a project that comes out commercially or, often, yields some sort of results that then coalesce into a record. And somehow I've been doing that this whole time. I've released seventeen collections of music that count as full-lengths, and that becomes this thing that somehow has gone on this long, for these past fifteen years. But then at the same time, technologically it's shifted so much, from being all hardware—no computer in the very beginning, creating everything with samplers and synthesizers—to hybrid forms of that. As sample times have changed, as the hardware has become more possible, in some ways, getting away from samplers with their long sample times (because that provided too many choices), going down to the circuit-bent, going down to the acoustic. I did a series of records a few years ago that were totally...it's almost like every good idea I've had, I've had to abandon because I don't know how to do that idea again. Do you know what I mean? And I know management and labels would love it if I could sustain the attention span to really do something long enough to make it actually truly good, rather than fidget. But that isn't my job. I kind of realized a while ago, my job isn't to make a lot of money. My job isn't to make great music. It's to bring my sense of wonder that I've always felt towards music and show it to other people. That's probably my highest aspiration at this point. TH: You're a tinkerer, man. I feel like what you're describing also is—have you ever seen Dosh play live? It's the same kind of thing. I feel like when I'm watching you or when I'm watching Dosh, I'm watching someone just playing in their bedroom. That's where I'm at with music right now. Man, I just don't want to play a show unless it feels like I'm tinkering in my bedroom, so I have to reimagine what my live show is, and incorporate more live PA into that, and it's so...when you're rapping, it's such a challenge to figure out how you can really rap and then have all these moving parts and shit that's organic and live. AD: I may say—I know you're a thinker. I know you're a deep thinker, but I also know you have a lot of really important things to say. And I feel like this is the kind of perspective that I wish I had other people telling me...but I think at a certain age, past a certain point, people stop giving you critique and they start to just assume that you're ever-prevalent, and this is just the thing, and it's set. But I feel like, for yourself, when I've caught you, it's always really vital to hear what you have to say. I feel that way honestly. And I understand the idea of building in mechanisms that keep you feeling interested, and keep you feeling like you're doing the work in this way, but I feel like you need to exist because there aren't that many people saying things that are of importance. Or they're not speaking their truth in a way that is including mine, do you know what I mean? There's a lot of political music out there that is important, and has a lot to say. I really like where clipping. is at right now, for instance. I dig it. But I also feel like they're skipping a lot of harder truths that are won through a deeper examination of the direct political scene. I love the metaphor, and I love the approach. And I think it's super important what they're doing as well, but it's just very different. There aren't many Public Enemy's right now. If any. TH: I hear that. It's fucked up there's not enough Public Enemy's right now, really. AD: I like reading about music, both the psychology and the physics of, and also the history of. And those 33-1/3 books can be kind of hit and miss. But the one on Public Enemy and the Bomb Squad production around It Takes a Nation of Millions is phenomenal. It's amazing. Do you know the 33-1/3 series? It's a series of creative writing. Some of it's very factual, and some of it's very personal narrative. And they always deal with a specific album. My favorites always tend to be the ones that really talk about the creation of or the history of the hard, on the ground facts of a certain record. And usually really classic albums get the treatment. TH: I'm trying to learn a lot of back story to shit like that right now. AD: It's a perfect one to dive into, and it really talks about the moment that birthed that record, but also that birthed Public Enemy. It's great. It's one of the ones I really recommend. The Bomb Squad—this is one of those experiences for me where it's like, okay, Public Enemy had a lot to say, but the onomatopoeia with the way they said it, the words they said it with but also the music...this book does a really good job talking about things like the fact there was a horn stab on every single beat in some of their songs. You know? It underlines not only the message, but the message underlines the music. It's perfect. There are a lot of groups out there that have a heavy sound, and they don't necessarily say very much. And the rare groups who have both, I think. I dig death metal groups, sometimes, it's not my favorite thing in the world, but man, the music sounds like those words, and those words sound like that music, and I have to tip my hat at that. I feel like Public Enemy did it really well, as well. The Bomb Squad did it really well. TH: That's one of the things I'm thinking about. The form was revolutionary in the way that it carried the message. It was a very experimental music. I remember listening to that with my mom. And she was like, “This is fucking terrible.” My dad was like, “Shut this off! This is the worst shit!” The same way that punk music was jarring to people's ears. So when I'm home just twiddling with loop pedals and shit, I try to think, like, what is that different format today? AD: It's a great mandate you can give to younger producers who don't usually have the perspective of what they want to say, they're just trying to figure out how to even be in the space. But sometimes if you have the message you want to end with before you have any of the notes, it can help determine those notes real fast. TH: When you listen to the way they imagine experimental music on TV shows like Battlestar Galactica, it's always some hybrid between noise and techno and cut-up shit. Today it would just be a bunch of Windows dings and the sound of a fucking Mac shutting off. AD: Are we talking about Vaporwave? TH: You haven't switched over yet? Or is it too late? Is that over? AD: It's over and it'll never be over. But yeah, I mean—I think that's a weird moment that we're in that won't ever stop now. All popular music is Vaporwave now. For a long time, I used to consider popular music to be kind of a mash-up culture, where unless you had one popular thing rubbing up against another popular thing, it wouldn't produce the phenomenon known as popular music. But now we're through the looking glass, and now you just have to have a taste of that thing. And it doesn't matter if the thing doesn't live in a serious space. It's better if it lives in a frumpy, humorous, tongue-and-cheek thing, because then you never have to actually commit. TH: It seems like it's a relative of Witch House. But Witch House was actually dope, I felt like. AD: Did it ever really even exist? Was it an easy journalistic term for just a passing chord? I liked a lot of the music that was going on in that space, too, and I feel like the “Ethereal & B,” the ethereal R&B that's going on now, you could point towards a lot of artists who are basically making a version of Witch House, but it has different DNA. It goes to the same place. TH: I've never heard of ethereal R&B, I'll check it out. AD: There's quite a bit of music in that vein, and you could argue that even Mumble Rap goes there too, sometimes, stuff that's a little bit more—oh god, my head is full of names, and they rarely come out at the right moment. The stuff I'm really feeling, I love the way that tempo has come back in a lot of music, and that chop has come back into rap. You have a lot of rappers now who can actually chop. There's a little more going on than just some catchphrases. I was really tired of that trend before it even set in. TH: I love the new rap music. I mean, Future. He's such an experimental artist. AD: Especially that new record. God, it goes places. You should check it out. You've head OG Maco before, right? Some of his—I don't know if you want to call them hits, but his more overground cuts, and his weird deeper-in-the-record cuts are weird as fuck. It's great. Even someone like Post Malone, which is again super-surface, he does stuff with Justin Bieber...but it comes out super strange sometimes. It has some weird blue-eyed soul to it, but then it does something. TH: Usually before I go I ask if there are any books or anything that you'd recommend to people. AD: I wish I read more. Dang, I am such an illiterate fool. Maybe I can encourage people, instead of imbibing the outside world, which is very relevant, but just from my perspective if more people took pen to paper and tried their hand at poetry, even the rappers out there who are used to scribbling verses, even the people who maybe keep a journal but try to have a bigger impact with fewer words...that exercise is something I engage in, still to this day. And there is relevance. There is something to be said with your personal voice. Word choice, thinking about what comes next. I'm a musician. I should know nothing about this. I'm largely illiterate. And I feel like it is an incredibly meditative practice. What's the next word? What's that next thing? So maybe my answer is a reversal of your question. TH: That's what keeps me from going crazy. Alright Alfred. Thank you for taking the time. AD: Equally! Tell me when this goes live, I can't wait to crow about it. 

Sonny is back in LA after fighting the flu in Philly for two weeks. Feeling good and playing feel good music to match. Nice is in Philly and coveting Sonny's recent purchases at Amoeba Music. --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app

On today's episode of the podcast, I sat down with Jesse Knight and Christopher James in our hotel room in Los Angeles to recap our recent week recording shows! Now that you've spent the last month listening to all of the great episodes with Brandie Posey, Matteen Stewart, Mike Phirman & our Chaplin Episode, we always like to tell you the stories that lead up to these episodes and what happened in between.  Los Angeles always treats us well, and this time around was no exception. We had such a great time recording the episodes, as well as continuing to explore the city. We talked about our visit to the Hollywood Forever Cemetery, hiking to the Hollywood Sign, Christopher almost dying on a mountain, taking Jesse to Amoeba Music, Jimmy Kimmel LIVE!, The Comedy Store, and so much more! I always love hitting the road with these guys, and we will be doing a lot more of that in 2017! Thanks for listening! Enjoy the episode! 

En esta edición del programa conversamos acerca de la demanda que radicaron varias disqueras en contra de los servicios de conversión de YouTube a MP3, comentamos acerca de los 47 años del clásico Abbey Road, la venta de Marihuana en Amoeba Music, entre otros temas.

Agradece a este podcast tantas horas de entretenimiento y disfruta de episodios exclusivos como éste. ¡Apóyale en iVoox! En esta edición del programa conversamos acerca de la demanda que radicaron varias disqueras en contra de los servicios de conversión de YouTube a MP3, comentamos acerca de los 47 años del clásico Abbey Road, la venta de Marihuana en Amoeba Music, entre otros temas.Escucha este episodio completo y accede a todo el contenido exclusivo de Bonita Radio. Descubre antes que nadie los nuevos episodios, y participa en la comunidad exclusiva de oyentes en https://go.ivoox.com/sq/90599

This week Lyle Preslar (Minor Threat, Caroline Records) and Jim Shearer (MTV/VH1), joined by special guest, Steven Smith (Alternative Press, Fuse, MTV Geek), discuss the following: Metallica opening up for Rihanna at the Global Citizen Festival; Amoeba Music selling marijuana; Adele's take on cigarette smoking; the 25th Anniversary of Nirvana's Nevermind; the new crowd-funded Lemmy statue greeting people at the Rainbow on the Sunset Strip; what album Brand New will be playing in its entirety; Gwen Stefani's new cartoon show; Bob Dylan releasing a 36-disc boxset; and apple pie!

Continuing with the Los Angeles Vinyl Roadtrip, Nate interviews Marc Weinstein of Amoeba Music, who shares the history and future of running the world's largest music store. Also we discuss the passing of 2 rock greats, Lemmy Kilmister of Motorhead & Hawkwind & Scott Weiland of Stone Temple Pilots & Velvet Revolver. If you like records, just starting a collection or are an uber-nerd with a house-full of vinyl, this is the podcast for you. Nate Goyer is The Vinyl Guide and discusses all things music and record-related. http://www.thevinylguide.com http://facebook.com/vinylguide https://instagram.com/vinylguide/

WTTS’ Laura Duncan and her husband of 24 years, Sean, talk about life at home. In episode 74, fresh back from Los Angeles Laura and Sean discuss their latest trip: A private tour of Capitol Records, the amazing Amoeba Music record store, seats down front at Dodger Stadium, Jimmy Kimmel Live! and more. They also highlight some of the  great music that will be available on Record Store Day and offer FREE music from St. Paul & The Broken Bones.  LISTEN/SUBSCRIBE to The LSD Show on iTunes. Follow Laura and Sean on Twitter: @WTTSLAURA, @SeanDuncan66. For more, visit www.lauramerica.com

WTTS’ Laura Duncan and her husband of 24 years, Sean, talk about life at home. In episode 73, the two discuss their upcoming trip to Los Angeles. Capital Records, Amoeba Music, Dodger Stadium and Jimmy Kimmel Live! are all on the the itinerary. Also, Sean talks about Jake Bugg's recent performance at Sun King Studio 92 and FREE music from the Bombay Bicycle Club.  LISTEN/SUBSCRIBE to The LSD Show on iTunes. Follow Laura and Sean on Twitter: @WTTSLAURA, @SeanDuncan66. For more, visit www.lauramerica.com