Podcasts about Bart Simpson

It's the first ever Simpsons episode, which also happens to be a Christmas Special. How does it hold up for a show that's been on for over three decades? Nostalgia Critic takes a look. Join our YouTube Members - https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCiH828EtgQjTyNIMH6YiOSw/join Last weeks Nostalgia Critic - https://youtu.be/EkbsPkmj1hQ Check out our store - https://channelawesome.myshopify.com/ Support this month's charity - https://solvecfs.org/ "Simpsons Roasting on an Open Fire" (titled onscreen as "The Simpsons Christmas Special") is the series premiere of the American animated television series The Simpsons. A Christmas special, the show had a very long delayed release. It first aired on Fox in the United States on December 17, 1989. Introducing the Simpson family into half-hour television, in this episode, Bart Simpson disobediently gets a tattoo without the permission of his parents. After Marge spends all the family's holiday budget on having it removed, Homer learns that his boss is not giving employees Christmas bonuses, and takes a job as a shopping mall Santa in order to pay for his children's Christmas presents. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Political Rehab: Donny's Angels, Full Bungle!In this episode of Political Rehab, a Republican canary explodes in the coal mine, the Tim Walz Minnesota corruption mess, Trump Accounts get an infusion of right wing billionaire money, Bart Simpson running the Department of WAR! and pardon roulette! ALSO: Karoline Leavitt's two kinds of bullshit about Trump's cognitive health, Matt Robison's big new Newsweek article, and a Dose A' Hope about some actual bipartisan solutions happening. It's all the pressing political issues without the usual partisan hangover!00:00 Intro00:48 Trump Dump: Weekly Trump Outrage05:03 Tennessee Special Election Analysis07:53 Trump Accounts and Billionaire Funding10:50 Minnesota Fraud Scandal13:24 Pete Hegseth and Military Embarrassment16:22 Trump's Controversial Pardons19:19 New Segment: Hot Off the Presses--Trump's Self-Made Trap21:17 Government Dysfunction Under Trump28:21 Bullshit Watch: Trump's Health34:31 Weekly Dose of Hope

Who left a whole box of corn flakes In a locker At the Equinox On Wall Street? I told you go to the one at The Rock. I told you, I'm not going on that block, like at all. {Enter The Multiverse} That's just my Karma, Ms. Nancy; I did a whole lot than just Thought about it More edits, More recognition that I—l couldn't stand it; The planet just seems to get smaller and smaller With less and less plants in it; I have your pants on, But shoes didn't fit I wrote a whole book and resenting But still not the movies, I meant it. Damn. She's just so much better than I am Head in a frying pan on high beforehand, And however damaged, It felt bad I know what I did I felt that Camera Obscura, for sure, you know But disconnect, Swallow badders, wha— t?! Get my peanut butter up; Why! I'm a circus monkey; Damn. I got karma faster Than I should have known I lost episodes And threw away the whole entire show I went running long And then I threw up on the subway I only like the one Sublime album (The one with wrong way.) You know? Cuh' I went the wrong way I fucked up on all my dollars I got karma back hard, yah Got a poem or prose or song on ol' Ms. Molly, too, (or two) I fall in love inside the tube, Truth is, though Teletubbies and teleportation Ain't so far off from where I come from Problem is, Opporsite world, I'm the story of the whole show; For sure dawg. —a situational Thought process. When the crack finally kicks in, Astounding the loss of my confidence I've gotten lost in a toxic land I got syndrome “talk to much” Not on the spectrum, nor diagnosable X's and O's on the tic tac toe board, Just an underhanded “I told you so” All the rockstars want —Subtle thoughts of suicide as the train approaches? Nah, Models and the other types of girls That never work at all, They just born at it. I got bored with it, But not the fourth one, Cross my first amendment, On my heart like catholic More like Bart Simpsons, Like art magic Cause I won't watch that show But love Matt Groening— Maybe I'm the type that just Love hating But hate loving with No way to I don't hate you; Yeah you're right, I'm off Take two. ((Good Luck Riding The J Home.)) Not a gym run, a different kind of cause, I guess I got so many plausible options, I guess I should call on one of them, Toss a number up, struck the dog on mathematics I can't let my lantern out of gas, We're not friends, are we? What a fiend! Are you offended? I just want to see my dreams relayed to me— Is that too much to ask? So I'm the asshole. What did I pack a bag for?! Picnic baskets. What did I leave this curse for? Nothing, Thanks for asking, Nance. I put a pilot on the presence of a whole color— phenomenon. I swallowed all my pride and presence just for an automaton. This automation algorithm— is it? Doesn't make a difference. I spilled blood inside my kitchen, Put deposits on a flicker, Tricked the treasure at a phantom, Phantom I want more but swallowed all my high pulp orange juice on knowledge of the only one; There's only God, There's only us— There's only cause+ effect, 6 more albums, note books and a couple novels that came out of that one. Squeeze em hard, ya'll. Don't let me love God. Don't let me talk back, I'm not about a rack. Tantrum, yes. Talk to my God. Please. Talk to me God. Now. Talk to my family one time. Now. Talk out me sideways— Now. Bring me a rebel. Now. I have a headache. Now. I got regrets son. Now I got a dead son, a dead daughter a ghost cat and George Jettson, Michael Jackson and George Zimmerman, all of my tabs open: I take a tab hoping I fall asleep on the cold ocean, Calm before storm comes Out on a surfboard Look at the full moon— Nobody can hear you so SCREAM. Now. For crying out loud, Take the knife out, For a second or thought, I'm a wife now; What back handed thought or a back and on blacklist— Your back room was only your conscious— Now I'm looking at my left side, Also catatonic, Not aboard the problem like you wanted, What an order form for border patrol, You want tall glasses of hard fortune, Work hard for it, or rosemary pork on sourdough. I'm in love with you, but in poverty— There the devil is. But oh, aren't we all familiar? Suit and tie hangs to the tide, I tie the knot with rope from which I die, And quickly crafting coffins, want to walk around before I go off, Diving board or world one antenna? Not to mention it, redirect the attention and energy into something other than consumptive— Everything I do and everywhere I go, I clutch this stone Or put inside my pockets knowing if I let it go Or it falls out and to the ground Not only will I float up, But the world will open And swallow us all whole ((Down.)) I live with the knowledge of criminal visions and masterpiece compilations, but as of today I owe a bank my very and entire existence It is what it claims to be, these days ring true Nothing these days sounds like music but you. I put that book back on the shelf; Rewound the tape before I put it in the case I knew it would be late because, well That's the way it always is That's the way I always am I'm sorry mom. That's the way it always is— They told me I don't need no makeup on, However this may have only been true when I was ten to twenty two, Or twenty two, Or two whole years ago before the motorcycles stole my story. When I put the sun up in the sky, I suppose, is when I started this [that's called a God Complex] It's all behind us now, or rather All up front And out in the open In twelve point font As if I would ever cop to it I took the wrong way to Wall Street l Believe me l, i think of the tree at the rock, Long before this all was ever thought of, And I held her seed in the heart of my palm God said go the other way, I said “Okay” I want to see how much money I make; I wear makeup, I got nothing So much for a body I got stuck with words and good talking, And long vocabulary instead of the coast and a longboard So what's the cost for a whole table turn? So what's the cost for a “her—perfect.” Huh? What is the cost for some popcorn in Lorne's office? What is the cost just to cover the love boat theme song— Don't get me wrong I have original music I'm just hard getting to it; The motors are running The mirror: my mind is a murderer, murderer Engine's are purring are hurting her, hurting But I been wanting some corn on the cob To talk to my mom To call some place home To care for my son To wake up on Sunday past noon like “That was a good show.” And the next sold out . real talk, I got real problems Someone knows I'm on top of my thoughts at the rock, Choking back cocaine All the world under me, Mad at the world though For not looking up to me Huh I call this suffering Cause I already been been hungry, And homeless So I know this Pit-of-your stomach And tied to a brick at the bottom of the ocean feeling, that really Sits somewhere between “Hopeless” And “not good” But hey— If you were to say “how's your day” I answer “I'm great!” Like a positive, programmed robot or something, my mantras lately, replaced however with repetitive honest pleas of “Please help me.” Seems like— the only thing meaningful is saying this inside my Google documents; However, Seems like, It isn't worth the breathing, really Oddly, I forget to— Then I get this special feeling, Almost sentimental, inside my head I don't need medicine as much as I just need a friend besides my cat —thoughts of hammers in my brain— If I could tell you what the level of the pain is? Mercy. There doesn't seem to be a number Merry Christmas, Let's get displaced; Case is dismissed— Let's get shitfaced Wash the dishes, Pick the peloton, Pick imaginary friends And watch the President be hilarious, Until it effects us negative and in the read, When peanut butter bread and jelly All you ever get for breakfast For extended periods of time. Hah. Bloodshed? Wrong. Blood hound? Bad. Segmented thoughts on a toothache? Too late. I hate to tell you what the truth is, Cause you'd hate it. Useless. Jew fits; I just saved two cents on toothpaste And you got two new fits to wear for your friends approval and some cool picks But I can't do this anymore I want to choose live; Inside my death is The whole of the city, Electric and Thomas Edison And impressive Mister Business— Rockerfeller read about it; Somebody gotta learn and teach to squeeze the money out the people! Something simple says, “Just stop it.” Choke a chicken over breakfast, Thoughts of Belfast, real fast train to somewhere in LA, I think Today will be the day That I give bacon To charity, No care left, to give a gift So thankful, For being blessed with time to waste To write this piece of shit I guess I died I guess in family guy? I didn't like it, yet I think sometime's in stewie's cadence— …like, a British baby? And a talking dog? And a dumb ass dad? And a bunch of songs? And some salad dressing, To go with that master habit of getting Grams and Grammies; But in the long run, after a long talk on the roof with the opposite of God, I finally call a conference with all the lawyers of the court— But not to work at all, Only order sandwhiches Obsession has its advantages and platinum records, If you tap into it directly. Forget it. I'm out of magic. Or out of patience— out of time for petitions, But which one is it? Which dimension actually gets me picture perfect Instead of nervous in the eye of the beholders? Learn your lesson well; There's got to, got to be a reason why The wrong way is the right. There's got to be a reason why— My day becomes the night. There's got to be a reason for the words upon the paper, But I've got to figure out my rhythm later; I gone up instead of downtown, Turn the clock before the sunrise, I just want to find the love and the peace in it agai. Gotta love a synchronicity; I get stuck inside bronze statues Door way syndrome And I shutter just to never remember him But here the picture is, a perfect person Headless and befriended him, the lover The line inside my mind is crossed I'll suffer till I turn to dust on this one. My thoughts the first time I saw him? I hate him, Cause he'll never love me. What a troubled thought for a little girl on a lot of drugs and a weight problem. One more, I don't remember where I'm going Day to, I have to remember to forget you Take three, I'm happy that they pay me to tape these things Because I'm maybe going crazy; From the outside though, you wouldn't know it Low and behold, this is my show afterall And covered in gold like the whole of the moon I can play to the tune of two men, to two million don't let it torment you, You looks twisted Get out of your head, and turn off your television Go on a walk, Get run over by a bus or motorcycles Turn around and talk to God and your disciples — cause they all watch. Oh, what's wrong now? That's a long run, And now another pilot that I'm proud of— Stop looking at the ground— It hurts. Today, I learned my lesson, It was not a new apartment— It's a prison. I gotta say I kinda gotta love to wonder where the fuck I'm at besides “Manhattan”. The cat needs water, My heart needs captions. New York needs Jesus Hope he don't see this (Even if he did he probably wouldn't believe it, Or Even if he did He's having trouble learning English, And, Even if he did he had he's been repealing all his promises to return to us; We worship dollars A cock-shaped structures in New York— TIME TRAVELER Its called The Rock. SUPER NEW YORKER What. TIME TRAVELER I'm looking for The Rock. SUPER NEW YORKER What's that. TIME TRAVEL It's called “Rockefeller Plaza.” SUPER NEW YORKER What's that. TIME TRAVELER It's a building? I guess? SUPER NEW YORKER It's not. TIME TRAVELER It is. It's— SUPER NEW YORKER It's not. TIME TRAVELER But— *fucks off immidiately without any closure whatsoever.* TIME TRAVELER Huh. the TIME TRAVELER pulls up a picture on their device; the building itself seems to have disappeared from the photo; (Like Marty McFlyim back to the future) Contd Must be the wrong dimension… But then JOHN D. ROCKERFELLER Is MURDERED at the height of STANDARD OIL. Oh no! So that's what happened… Yeah? He was a bastard. Well! Damn. {Enter athe Multiverse} So you're everywhere all the time, And I got nothing left to run And we already talked the talk And we're already back to one Let the waves blow over, Cravings, tasting haze of periwinkle, heaven waking Putting every penny on the promise that you got me But you never save me, Really, Jesus? Racist! I got a lot of stakes in the game And all these snakes keep weighing in! I got these eight days left inside my head, And I'm a murderer Remember to admit his wrong you are Next time the caw will crow. I crevice drawing under rock Inside the undertoe, My surfboard heading home for shore, My body going under. Oh Conan, what have you done. I'm not sure yet. So? Go get him, you old hoot. I just want to watch a little longer! *feathers ruffled* What! It is comical So i'm stuck inside the equinox on Wall Street catatonic, Adding up the dollar signs and losses, Well now, Got my hosts and calling cards, And struck with dirty dozens Doesn't anybody understand? [no. Nobody does.] Certainly, you know, nobody does this. Certainly, I'm folding all the shirts for all the husbands Certainly my love was lost, but for sure I didn't want it. For sure, I dropped a couple rocks I had inside my pocket . Well done, folks. Guess what? Those aren't crocodile tears I'm crying. I'm dehydrated but they're called psychic cause Nobody knows where they come from; Some would form the thought that you got water trapped inside your soul It only happens when the sun sheds hard tears Here, solar panels Animals and tragic circumstances, Fucking Asholes Never shine your diamond on the twilight, Shooting stars; Never shoot at birds from cars; Remember, They are flying. I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you, done. I swallowed you whole, I swallows you whole, I swallowed you down some. I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you up; I swallowed you whole I swallowed you whole, You know what the cost is Just a heads up, If you take a picture of a gamgstalkers face, They run away. The crime being committed is a non-contact form of combat, a scientifically proven biological weapon. When you begin to document this meticulously, a pattern of coordination begins to become established. It's no longer some sort of phenomenon, that can be written off as a symptom of a broken mind; The more evidence you gather, It becomes a verifiable crime. Remember that the point of it is to control you, to enslave your autonomy— to program you to believe something is wrong, when clearly, The signs of an awakened mind can pick out patterns in the construct of human social behavior that is not ours; it is a deficit in conciousness, a weakness, caused by the moral degradation of our souls in the societal world— A loss of God. And also remember, Humans have a history to seek and destroy which it does not understand, And cannot control— However, also, God comes in all forms. You must know when all is all. Okay, shh— Don't lock the door, now You got a pardon, You better run. I am an a-list celebrity; I am an “amen, sister— I hear that!” I am a medicine woman, A centrifugal figure, A ritual character, Skilled at charicature— A big Kimmel fan, A rick and a Morty, A woman a man, A puppet, the master, A cat in a hatbox, A blasphemous coffin; A wart on a warflower. Hm. Now who could possibly take that out of context? Soft surf rock at the equinox on Wall Street. I love all four stories, I rode all four horses, I put all four corners of the earth onto a surface Then I rolled it up Huh… Somebody does that. Leets go, hard core But don't forget the hot sauce Don't forget the — Smattercat?! SMATTERCAT?! SMAAAAAATERCAAAAAAAAAT! The Adventures of Atticus Catticus. Man, this is fucked up. I can't disagree with you. I can't get you out of my head (I want head) Can't get you out of my mind I find that You must want me dead Tan lines l You must want me off my meds! You want in me in bed at 9 sharp You know what!? You remind me of Harper. Now let's talk shop, Calm, little brother I went with the other oath— Don't you belong to God? Who's on the phone? Donald Trump. Tell him “no.” No to what? Just tell him “no.” Then he'll get here faster. So what do you got in your supplements? Simple psychology; Have a red album. Nah that. I got gold gold balls on all of my prostitutes Pulled apart orgasms, Never been touched, sire. Never have I took forgranted this passion( Never have —that flex— Theatrical pangentry. Never went Ham sandwhich Ham sandwhich Ham sandwhich GODDAMMIT. I thought you grant wishes. — also in charge of summoning. Part time. Well what are you mad about?! At least you got a job! I'm so sick of this kid, He just summons “Ham sandwhich” What's wrong with that? I gave him “ham sandwhich”, Alright?! All kinds, And you know what? That guy has all kinds of magic— All the kinds— Every kind you can imagine, And no matter what, He just wants. Hmmmm…: …. Come on. Summon a dog, or something… A new bike… ……. ……..:::: ……. …. Ham sandwhich. GOD DAMMIT. …and a kite. …what was that? I want a kite. Y…you want to fly a kite. Ya. Alright! But first. An, God. Ham Sandwhich. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? SO WHAT I LOVED NANCY REGAN! SHE HAD THE BEST CATCHPHRASES! AND ALL THE KENNEDIES! FUCK WITH ME. Somebody shoot that bitch. But sir— Before she runs for president. But sir… THINK OF IT LIKE KILLING BABY HITLER. You're right. TAKE THE SHOOOOOT. MEANWHILE… In the MULTIDIMENTIONAL SPACETIME SURVEILANCE FACILITY Oh good. What's that. Someone one assasinated me. That's good. I'll say. Wouldn't want you to run for president. Someone still would have had to elected me. Oh, you mean like in all these parallels over here. *shrugs* They'll collapse eventually. They haven't yet. I just got assasinated. Wait for it. I've been waiting. I don't get why you hate me so much. I'm indifferent, really, just waiting for something exciting. I just got assasinated. And I just got a ten cent raise. From what I can tell, doesn't make much of a differences. It's like, limited assimilation in this dimension; Did I correct you— Lessons, I'm not making any promises. Look out little brother! I set them on you. Got to put the pudding in your pot— And don't forget to floss. What's corrextions? Look, I'm anatomically correct— Shut up, Ken. I don't click on videos or images Because I love him It's just a crush, A pair of wooden crutches A horcrux And a fox A crucifix And Sunday Brunches. It's just a bunch of pictures, Edits, autographs, Extended plays It's just an infinite inside my head— It's been a couple days. A couple miles down And sure to go, You're all for it— Soon you got to know Whatever you done Has come for your— Stop the truck for misuse of four muses And autotune to ruin it— Your mascot is a narwhal But you're rooting for the Bruins. What is even a Bruin? A bunch of racist frat boys and hot bitches in sororities and covens? Bet that Okay, Like, I fall in love But just to write a bit I pour my heart out in a song And for the moment I could make forget i'm ugly Even if for the duration of the half time; Half a pack at halftime, Half a pack at bedtime 20 cigarettes on your 2020 vision. Three beers, Then three beers Thirty three years and he still won't love me Thirty three years and I'm still no woman. He show first, So I shot back I forgot rock doves Served a purpose Postage For lost albums on the surface Surfboards For hot rod bod host, I offered up Conan, Now pick that hard eye Banjo up Water dance Pick that apple, Off the tree With not a scratch Hands tied behind your back; Baggage claim, River dance Pick it up without a fork You whispered us a state of trance For God's socks, If I fly coach, Low ball Lost a fortune Don't call me ‘bud' I think about your walk all day; Like, Three or four times, maybe Not no noodle soup, you wonder But you're asking for a Ballroom. Haggard. God did far too good a job on you; As the car jumped over the moon. I complete your meat puppet, But recently went vegan Line them up and then A heart attack, A hot bath, And a hammock. You got your offer, But I want it back, I want my roses. Golden proses so rit and rattle. I rot in hell for all I've done, then scramble; Damn. I just can't get you off my head without ramble You're probably on a tour bus; She's pulling out all the stop— But you're my monster, just know that Although I'm on top of her turf. So much for Service Monday. So much for making money on a conduit, a conduct. So much for love as. He aim for the head; I aim for the neck; He aim for the heart, I duck, I fall in her eyes, High water— No more cam tide Sunsets. What, I get you really wanted oceans, So you got them. Godsense. Pull, Conan Pull— Haul in! All in on your cards, But take the occult off them; Offering? Totem pole. More than one? I love to hope. Fix your face. Pull the plug— I'm off till Sunday, Off till Sunday. Ten days to Tuesday, You want no more Ten days to Sunday And ten more before that; Ten tongues before dawn, And other I slaughter And slaught cross the sloth, I wither, Your honor. Ten tales too soon, Ten wide my diamonds; Ten eyes in your Isis, My mind, Orion. Ten lost in the Outback; Ten lost on your mass, tongue Two whipped at the alter— I called her about that. So to the effect you check your fax and press the send, I'm steady living, never coming back, Or cap the president— Never living, Never listing residence on Madison You're stuck inside my half-life That I'm mad besides the medicine. You're stuck inside my past, Like all the knives inside my back, And still I fondly think upon a laugh, As ice cream sundaes, Half a sandwich Appetite for having all you are inside my master work of art, The world, your face I cut from clay inside my hands And I still have you in my swollen arteries, and trees the veins, The wicked summers and the bitter winters came, But did not cross paths, So to not bear ties, and to not plug Holes in the hull of the whole ship I think I sunk overtime instead of rather All at once, You know, It doesn't suffix What it takes to turn it back from “Love him” Into nothing. 20 hours passed and 20 cigarettes and ivory towers, But forgive the lives inside of Mormon wives and ice cold showers— Scatterbrained but highly trained in “Never Happened.” “Didn't matter.” So you roll it up into a movie script and call them actors. Why'd you flash me, dancer, Don't you know how bad I want that? Out inside your dozens, for my cinnamon coated combat Nail box fires Had you ordered Your desires Flow the golden drifter Fear of rivers never frozen. Don't you know the sun draws close But the heart grows cold, But the want goes harder? Don't you know the doors get shut, And the Kings get cut, And the wind blows wilder? Don't you know the stars just fall from the sky (They all fall from the sky, They fell from the sky) Don't you know We're all gonna die Put a trial to the wand, Fore you take her heart out Ten times.

Who left a whole box of corn flakes In a locker At the Equinox On Wall Street? I told you go to the one at The Rock. I told you, I'm not going on that block, like at all. {Enter The Multiverse} That's just my Karma, Ms. Nancy; I did a whole lot than just Thought about it More edits, More recognition that I—l couldn't stand it; The planet just seems to get smaller and smaller With less and less plants in it; I have your pants on, But shoes didn't fit I wrote a whole book and resenting But still not the movies, I meant it. Damn. She's just so much better than I am Head in a frying pan on high beforehand, And however damaged, It felt bad I know what I did I felt that Camera Obscura, for sure, you know But disconnect, Swallow badders, wha— t?! Get my peanut butter up; Why! I'm a circus monkey; Damn. I got karma faster Than I should have known I lost episodes And threw away the whole entire show I went running long And then I threw up on the subway I only like the one Sublime album (The one with wrong way.) You know? Cuh' I went the wrong way I fucked up on all my dollars I got karma back hard, yah Got a poem or prose or song on ol' Ms. Molly, too, (or two) I fall in love inside the tube, Truth is, though Teletubbies and teleportation Ain't so far off from where I come from Problem is, Opporsite world, I'm the story of the whole show; For sure dawg. —a situational Thought process. When the crack finally kicks in, Astounding the loss of my confidence I've gotten lost in a toxic land I got syndrome “talk to much” Not on the spectrum, nor diagnosable X's and O's on the tic tac toe board, Just an underhanded “I told you so” All the rockstars want —Subtle thoughts of suicide as the train approaches? Nah, Models and the other types of girls That never work at all, They just born at it. I got bored with it, But not the fourth one, Cross my first amendment, On my heart like catholic More like Bart Simpsons, Like art magic Cause I won't watch that show But love Matt Groening— Maybe I'm the type that just Love hating But hate loving with No way to I don't hate you; Yeah you're right, I'm off Take two. ((Good Luck Riding The J Home.)) Not a gym run, a different kind of cause, I guess I got so many plausible options, I guess I should call on one of them, Toss a number up, struck the dog on mathematics I can't let my lantern out of gas, We're not friends, are we? What a fiend! Are you offended? I just want to see my dreams relayed to me— Is that too much to ask? So I'm the asshole. What did I pack a bag for?! Picnic baskets. What did I leave this curse for? Nothing, Thanks for asking, Nance. I put a pilot on the presence of a whole color— phenomenon. I swallowed all my pride and presence just for an automaton. This automation algorithm— is it? Doesn't make a difference. I spilled blood inside my kitchen, Put deposits on a flicker, Tricked the treasure at a phantom, Phantom I want more but swallowed all my high pulp orange juice on knowledge of the only one; There's only God, There's only us— There's only cause+ effect, 6 more albums, note books and a couple novels that came out of that one. Squeeze em hard, ya'll. Don't let me love God. Don't let me talk back, I'm not about a rack. Tantrum, yes. Talk to my God. Please. Talk to me God. Now. Talk to my family one time. Now. Talk out me sideways— Now. Bring me a rebel. Now. I have a headache. Now. I got regrets son. Now I got a dead son, a dead daughter a ghost cat and George Jettson, Michael Jackson and George Zimmerman, all of my tabs open: I take a tab hoping I fall asleep on the cold ocean, Calm before storm comes Out on a surfboard Look at the full moon— Nobody can hear you so SCREAM. Now. For crying out loud, Take the knife out, For a second or thought, I'm a wife now; What back handed thought or a back and on blacklist— Your back room was only your conscious— Now I'm looking at my left side, Also catatonic, Not aboard the problem like you wanted, What an order form for border patrol, You want tall glasses of hard fortune, Work hard for it, or rosemary pork on sourdough. I'm in love with you, but in poverty— There the devil is. But oh, aren't we all familiar? Suit and tie hangs to the tide, I tie the knot with rope from which I die, And quickly crafting coffins, want to walk around before I go off, Diving board or world one antenna? Not to mention it, redirect the attention and energy into something other than consumptive— Everything I do and everywhere I go, I clutch this stone Or put inside my pockets knowing if I let it go Or it falls out and to the ground Not only will I float up, But the world will open And swallow us all whole ((Down.)) I live with the knowledge of criminal visions and masterpiece compilations, but as of today I owe a bank my very and entire existence It is what it claims to be, these days ring true Nothing these days sounds like music but you. I put that book back on the shelf; Rewound the tape before I put it in the case I knew it would be late because, well That's the way it always is That's the way I always am I'm sorry mom. That's the way it always is— They told me I don't need no makeup on, However this may have only been true when I was ten to twenty two, Or twenty two, Or two whole years ago before the motorcycles stole my story. When I put the sun up in the sky, I suppose, is when I started this [that's called a God Complex] It's all behind us now, or rather All up front And out in the open In twelve point font As if I would ever cop to it I took the wrong way to Wall Street l Believe me l, i think of the tree at the rock, Long before this all was ever thought of, And I held her seed in the heart of my palm God said go the other way, I said “Okay” I want to see how much money I make; I wear makeup, I got nothing So much for a body I got stuck with words and good talking, And long vocabulary instead of the coast and a longboard So what's the cost for a whole table turn? So what's the cost for a “her—perfect.” Huh? What is the cost for some popcorn in Lorne's office? What is the cost just to cover the love boat theme song— Don't get me wrong I have original music I'm just hard getting to it; The motors are running The mirror: my mind is a murderer, murderer Engine's are purring are hurting her, hurting But I been wanting some corn on the cob To talk to my mom To call some place home To care for my son To wake up on Sunday past noon like “That was a good show.” And the next sold out . real talk, I got real problems Someone knows I'm on top of my thoughts at the rock, Choking back cocaine All the world under me, Mad at the world though For not looking up to me Huh I call this suffering Cause I already been been hungry, And homeless So I know this Pit-of-your stomach And tied to a brick at the bottom of the ocean feeling, that really Sits somewhere between “Hopeless” And “not good” But hey— If you were to say “how's your day” I answer “I'm great!” Like a positive, programmed robot or something, my mantras lately, replaced however with repetitive honest pleas of “Please help me.” Seems like— the only thing meaningful is saying this inside my Google documents; However, Seems like, It isn't worth the breathing, really Oddly, I forget to— Then I get this special feeling, Almost sentimental, inside my head I don't need medicine as much as I just need a friend besides my cat —thoughts of hammers in my brain— If I could tell you what the level of the pain is? Mercy. There doesn't seem to be a number Merry Christmas, Let's get displaced; Case is dismissed— Let's get shitfaced Wash the dishes, Pick the peloton, Pick imaginary friends And watch the President be hilarious, Until it effects us negative and in the read, When peanut butter bread and jelly All you ever get for breakfast For extended periods of time. Hah. Bloodshed? Wrong. Blood hound? Bad. Segmented thoughts on a toothache? Too late. I hate to tell you what the truth is, Cause you'd hate it. Useless. Jew fits; I just saved two cents on toothpaste And you got two new fits to wear for your friends approval and some cool picks But I can't do this anymore I want to choose live; Inside my death is The whole of the city, Electric and Thomas Edison And impressive Mister Business— Rockerfeller read about it; Somebody gotta learn and teach to squeeze the money out the people! Something simple says, “Just stop it.” Choke a chicken over breakfast, Thoughts of Belfast, real fast train to somewhere in LA, I think Today will be the day That I give bacon To charity, No care left, to give a gift So thankful, For being blessed with time to waste To write this piece of shit I guess I died I guess in family guy? I didn't like it, yet I think sometime's in stewie's cadence— …like, a British baby? And a talking dog? And a dumb ass dad? And a bunch of songs? And some salad dressing, To go with that master habit of getting Grams and Grammies; But in the long run, after a long talk on the roof with the opposite of God, I finally call a conference with all the lawyers of the court— But not to work at all, Only order sandwhiches Obsession has its advantages and platinum records, If you tap into it directly. Forget it. I'm out of magic. Or out of patience— out of time for petitions, But which one is it? Which dimension actually gets me picture perfect Instead of nervous in the eye of the beholders? Learn your lesson well; There's got to, got to be a reason why The wrong way is the right. There's got to be a reason why— My day becomes the night. There's got to be a reason for the words upon the paper, But I've got to figure out my rhythm later; I gone up instead of downtown, Turn the clock before the sunrise, I just want to find the love and the peace in it agai. Gotta love a synchronicity; I get stuck inside bronze statues Door way syndrome And I shutter just to never remember him But here the picture is, a perfect person Headless and befriended him, the lover The line inside my mind is crossed I'll suffer till I turn to dust on this one. My thoughts the first time I saw him? I hate him, Cause he'll never love me. What a troubled thought for a little girl on a lot of drugs and a weight problem. One more, I don't remember where I'm going Day to, I have to remember to forget you Take three, I'm happy that they pay me to tape these things Because I'm maybe going crazy; From the outside though, you wouldn't know it Low and behold, this is my show afterall And covered in gold like the whole of the moon I can play to the tune of two men, to two million don't let it torment you, You looks twisted Get out of your head, and turn off your television Go on a walk, Get run over by a bus or motorcycles Turn around and talk to God and your disciples — cause they all watch. Oh, what's wrong now? That's a long run, And now another pilot that I'm proud of— Stop looking at the ground— It hurts. Today, I learned my lesson, It was not a new apartment— It's a prison. I gotta say I kinda gotta love to wonder where the fuck I'm at besides “Manhattan”. The cat needs water, My heart needs captions. New York needs Jesus Hope he don't see this (Even if he did he probably wouldn't believe it, Or Even if he did He's having trouble learning English, And, Even if he did he had he's been repealing all his promises to return to us; We worship dollars A cock-shaped structures in New York— TIME TRAVELER Its called The Rock. SUPER NEW YORKER What. TIME TRAVELER I'm looking for The Rock. SUPER NEW YORKER What's that. TIME TRAVEL It's called “Rockefeller Plaza.” SUPER NEW YORKER What's that. TIME TRAVELER It's a building? I guess? SUPER NEW YORKER It's not. TIME TRAVELER It is. It's— SUPER NEW YORKER It's not. TIME TRAVELER But— *fucks off immidiately without any closure whatsoever.* TIME TRAVELER Huh. the TIME TRAVELER pulls up a picture on their device; the building itself seems to have disappeared from the photo; (Like Marty McFlyim back to the future) Contd Must be the wrong dimension… But then JOHN D. ROCKERFELLER Is MURDERED at the height of STANDARD OIL. Oh no! So that's what happened… Yeah? He was a bastard. Well! Damn. {Enter athe Multiverse} So you're everywhere all the time, And I got nothing left to run And we already talked the talk And we're already back to one Let the waves blow over, Cravings, tasting haze of periwinkle, heaven waking Putting every penny on the promise that you got me But you never save me, Really, Jesus? Racist! I got a lot of stakes in the game And all these snakes keep weighing in! I got these eight days left inside my head, And I'm a murderer Remember to admit his wrong you are Next time the caw will crow. I crevice drawing under rock Inside the undertoe, My surfboard heading home for shore, My body going under. Oh Conan, what have you done. I'm not sure yet. So? Go get him, you old hoot. I just want to watch a little longer! *feathers ruffled* What! It is comical So i'm stuck inside the equinox on Wall Street catatonic, Adding up the dollar signs and losses, Well now, Got my hosts and calling cards, And struck with dirty dozens Doesn't anybody understand? [no. Nobody does.] Certainly, you know, nobody does this. Certainly, I'm folding all the shirts for all the husbands Certainly my love was lost, but for sure I didn't want it. For sure, I dropped a couple rocks I had inside my pocket . Well done, folks. Guess what? Those aren't crocodile tears I'm crying. I'm dehydrated but they're called psychic cause Nobody knows where they come from; Some would form the thought that you got water trapped inside your soul It only happens when the sun sheds hard tears Here, solar panels Animals and tragic circumstances, Fucking Asholes Never shine your diamond on the twilight, Shooting stars; Never shoot at birds from cars; Remember, They are flying. I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you, done. I swallowed you whole, I swallows you whole, I swallowed you down some. I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you up; I swallowed you whole I swallowed you whole, You know what the cost is Just a heads up, If you take a picture of a gamgstalkers face, They run away. The crime being committed is a non-contact form of combat, a scientifically proven biological weapon. When you begin to document this meticulously, a pattern of coordination begins to become established. It's no longer some sort of phenomenon, that can be written off as a symptom of a broken mind; The more evidence you gather, It becomes a verifiable crime. Remember that the point of it is to control you, to enslave your autonomy— to program you to believe something is wrong, when clearly, The signs of an awakened mind can pick out patterns in the construct of human social behavior that is not ours; it is a deficit in conciousness, a weakness, caused by the moral degradation of our souls in the societal world— A loss of God. And also remember, Humans have a history to seek and destroy which it does not understand, And cannot control— However, also, God comes in all forms. You must know when all is all. Okay, shh— Don't lock the door, now You got a pardon, You better run. I am an a-list celebrity; I am an “amen, sister— I hear that!” I am a medicine woman, A centrifugal figure, A ritual character, Skilled at charicature— A big Kimmel fan, A rick and a Morty, A woman a man, A puppet, the master, A cat in a hatbox, A blasphemous coffin; A wart on a warflower. Hm. Now who could possibly take that out of context? Soft surf rock at the equinox on Wall Street. I love all four stories, I rode all four horses, I put all four corners of the earth onto a surface Then I rolled it up Huh… Somebody does that. Leets go, hard core But don't forget the hot sauce Don't forget the — Smattercat?! SMATTERCAT?! SMAAAAAATERCAAAAAAAAAT! The Adventures of Atticus Catticus. Man, this is fucked up. I can't disagree with you. I can't get you out of my head (I want head) Can't get you out of my mind I find that You must want me dead Tan lines l You must want me off my meds! You want in me in bed at 9 sharp You know what!? You remind me of Harper. Now let's talk shop, Calm, little brother I went with the other oath— Don't you belong to God? Who's on the phone? Donald Trump. Tell him “no.” No to what? Just tell him “no.” Then he'll get here faster. So what do you got in your supplements? Simple psychology; Have a red album. Nah that. I got gold gold balls on all of my prostitutes Pulled apart orgasms, Never been touched, sire. Never have I took forgranted this passion( Never have —that flex— Theatrical pangentry. Never went Ham sandwhich Ham sandwhich Ham sandwhich GODDAMMIT. I thought you grant wishes. — also in charge of summoning. Part time. Well what are you mad about?! At least you got a job! I'm so sick of this kid, He just summons “Ham sandwhich” What's wrong with that? I gave him “ham sandwhich”, Alright?! All kinds, And you know what? That guy has all kinds of magic— All the kinds— Every kind you can imagine, And no matter what, He just wants. Hmmmm…: …. Come on. Summon a dog, or something… A new bike… ……. ……..:::: ……. …. Ham sandwhich. GOD DAMMIT. …and a kite. …what was that? I want a kite. Y…you want to fly a kite. Ya. Alright! But first. An, God. Ham Sandwhich. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? SO WHAT I LOVED NANCY REGAN! SHE HAD THE BEST CATCHPHRASES! AND ALL THE KENNEDIES! FUCK WITH ME. Somebody shoot that bitch. But sir— Before she runs for president. But sir… THINK OF IT LIKE KILLING BABY HITLER. You're right. TAKE THE SHOOOOOT. MEANWHILE… In the MULTIDIMENTIONAL SPACETIME SURVEILANCE FACILITY Oh good. What's that. Someone one assasinated me. That's good. I'll say. Wouldn't want you to run for president. Someone still would have had to elected me. Oh, you mean like in all these parallels over here. *shrugs* They'll collapse eventually. They haven't yet. I just got assasinated. Wait for it. I've been waiting. I don't get why you hate me so much. I'm indifferent, really, just waiting for something exciting. I just got assasinated. And I just got a ten cent raise. From what I can tell, doesn't make much of a differences. It's like, limited assimilation in this dimension; Did I correct you— Lessons, I'm not making any promises. Look out little brother! I set them on you. Got to put the pudding in your pot— And don't forget to floss. What's corrextions? Look, I'm anatomically correct— Shut up, Ken. I don't click on videos or images Because I love him It's just a crush, A pair of wooden crutches A horcrux And a fox A crucifix And Sunday Brunches. It's just a bunch of pictures, Edits, autographs, Extended plays It's just an infinite inside my head— It's been a couple days. A couple miles down And sure to go, You're all for it— Soon you got to know Whatever you done Has come for your— Stop the truck for misuse of four muses And autotune to ruin it— Your mascot is a narwhal But you're rooting for the Bruins. What is even a Bruin? A bunch of racist frat boys and hot bitches in sororities and covens? Bet that Okay, Like, I fall in love But just to write a bit I pour my heart out in a song And for the moment I could make forget i'm ugly Even if for the duration of the half time; Half a pack at halftime, Half a pack at bedtime 20 cigarettes on your 2020 vision. Three beers, Then three beers Thirty three years and he still won't love me Thirty three years and I'm still no woman. He show first, So I shot back I forgot rock doves Served a purpose Postage For lost albums on the surface Surfboards For hot rod bod host, I offered up Conan, Now pick that hard eye Banjo up Water dance Pick that apple, Off the tree With not a scratch Hands tied behind your back; Baggage claim, River dance Pick it up without a fork You whispered us a state of trance For God's socks, If I fly coach, Low ball Lost a fortune Don't call me ‘bud' I think about your walk all day; Like, Three or four times, maybe Not no noodle soup, you wonder But you're asking for a Ballroom. Haggard. God did far too good a job on you; As the car jumped over the moon. I complete your meat puppet, But recently went vegan Line them up and then A heart attack, A hot bath, And a hammock. You got your offer, But I want it back, I want my roses. Golden proses so rit and rattle. I rot in hell for all I've done, then scramble; Damn. I just can't get you off my head without ramble You're probably on a tour bus; She's pulling out all the stop— But you're my monster, just know that Although I'm on top of her turf. So much for Service Monday. So much for making money on a conduit, a conduct. So much for love as. He aim for the head; I aim for the neck; He aim for the heart, I duck, I fall in her eyes, High water— No more cam tide Sunsets. What, I get you really wanted oceans, So you got them. Godsense. Pull, Conan Pull— Haul in! All in on your cards, But take the occult off them; Offering? Totem pole. More than one? I love to hope. Fix your face. Pull the plug— I'm off till Sunday, Off till Sunday. Ten days to Tuesday, You want no more Ten days to Sunday And ten more before that; Ten tongues before dawn, And other I slaughter And slaught cross the sloth, I wither, Your honor. Ten tales too soon, Ten wide my diamonds; Ten eyes in your Isis, My mind, Orion. Ten lost in the Outback; Ten lost on your mass, tongue Two whipped at the alter— I called her about that. So to the effect you check your fax and press the send, I'm steady living, never coming back, Or cap the president— Never living, Never listing residence on Madison You're stuck inside my half-life That I'm mad besides the medicine. You're stuck inside my past, Like all the knives inside my back, And still I fondly think upon a laugh, As ice cream sundaes, Half a sandwich Appetite for having all you are inside my master work of art, The world, your face I cut from clay inside my hands And I still have you in my swollen arteries, and trees the veins, The wicked summers and the bitter winters came, But did not cross paths, So to not bear ties, and to not plug Holes in the hull of the whole ship I think I sunk overtime instead of rather All at once, You know, It doesn't suffix What it takes to turn it back from “Love him” Into nothing. 20 hours passed and 20 cigarettes and ivory towers, But forgive the lives inside of Mormon wives and ice cold showers— Scatterbrained but highly trained in “Never Happened.” “Didn't matter.” So you roll it up into a movie script and call them actors. Why'd you flash me, dancer, Don't you know how bad I want that? Out inside your dozens, for my cinnamon coated combat Nail box fires Had you ordered Your desires Flow the golden drifter Fear of rivers never frozen. Don't you know the sun draws close But the heart grows cold, But the want goes harder? Don't you know the doors get shut, And the Kings get cut, And the wind blows wilder? Don't you know the stars just fall from the sky (They all fall from the sky, They fell from the sky) Don't you know We're all gonna die Put a trial to the wand, Fore you take her heart out Ten times.

—1313. Chroma111. Who left a whole box of corn flakes In a locker At the Equinox On Wall Street? I told you go to the one at The Rock. I told you, I'm not going on that block, like at all. {Enter The Multiverse} That's just my Karma, Ms. Nancy; I did a whole lot than just Thought about it More edits, More recognition that I—l couldn't stand it; The planet just seems to get smaller and smaller With less and less plants in it; I have your pants on, But shoes didn't fit I wrote a whole book and resenting But still not the movies, I meant it. Damn. She's just so much better than I am Head in a frying pan on high beforehand, And however damaged, It felt bad I know what I did I felt that Camera Obscura, for sure, you know But disconnect, Swallow badders, wha— t?! Get my peanut butter up; Why! I'm a circus monkey; Damn. I got karma faster Than I should have known I lost episodes And threw away the whole entire show I went running long And then I threw up on the subway I only like the one Sublime album (The one with wrong way.) You know? Cuh' I went the wrong way I fucked up on all my dollars I got karma back hard, yah Got a poem or prose or song on ol' Ms. Molly, too, (or two) I fall in love inside the tube, Truth is, though Teletubbies and teleportation Ain't so far off from where I come from Problem is, Opporsite world, I'm the story of the whole show; For sure dawg. —a situational Thought process. When the crack finally kicks in, Astounding the loss of my confidence I've gotten lost in a toxic land I got syndrome “talk to much” Not on the spectrum, nor diagnosable X's and O's on the tic tac toe board, Just an underhanded “I told you so” All the rockstars want —Subtle thoughts of suicide as the train approaches? Nah, Models and the other types of girls That never work at all, They just born at it. I got bored with it, But not the fourth one, Cross my first amendment, On my heart like catholic More like Bart Simpsons, Like art magic Cause I won't watch that show But love Matt Groening— Maybe I'm the type that just Love hating But hate loving with No way to I don't hate you; Yeah you're right, I'm off Take two. ((Good Luck Riding The J Home.)) Not a gym run, a different kind of cause, I guess I got so many plausible options, I guess I should call on one of them, Toss a number up, struck the dog on mathematics I can't let my lantern out of gas, We're not friends, are we? What a fiend! Are you offended? I just want to see my dreams relayed to me— Is that too much to ask? So I'm the asshole. What did I pack a bag for?! Picnic baskets. What did I leave this curse for? Nothing, Thanks for asking, Nance. I put a pilot on the presence of a whole color— phenomenon. I swallowed all my pride and presence just for an automaton. This automation algorithm— is it? Doesn't make a difference. I spilled blood inside my kitchen, Put deposits on a flicker, Tricked the treasure at a phantom, Phantom I want more but swallowed all my high pulp orange juice on knowledge of the only one; There's only God, There's only us— There's only cause+ effect, 6 more albums, note books and a couple novels that came out of that one. Squeeze em hard, ya'll. Don't let me love God. Don't let me talk back, I'm not about a rack. Tantrum, yes. Talk to my God. Please. Talk to me God. Now. Talk to my family one time. Now. Talk out me sideways— Now. Bring me a rebel. Now. I have a headache. Now. I got regrets son. Now I got a dead son, a dead daughter a ghost cat and George Jettson, Michael Jackson and George Zimmerman, all of my tabs open: I take a tab hoping I fall asleep on the cold ocean, Calm before storm comes Out on a surfboard Look at the full moon— Nobody can hear you so SCREAM. Now. For crying out loud, Take the knife out, For a second or thought, I'm a wife now; What back handed thought or a back and on blacklist— Your back room was only your conscious— Now I'm looking at my left side, Also catatonic, Not aboard the problem like you wanted, What an order form for border patrol, You want tall glasses of hard fortune, Work hard for it, or rosemary pork on sourdough. I'm in love with you, but in poverty— There the devil is. But oh, aren't we all familiar? Suit and tie hangs to the tide, I tie the knot with rope from which I die, And quickly crafting coffins, want to walk around before I go off, Diving board or world one antenna? Not to mention it, redirect the attention and energy into something other than consumptive— Everything I do and everywhere I go, I clutch this stone Or put inside my pockets knowing if I let it go Or it falls out and to the ground Not only will I float up, But the world will open And swallow us all whole ((Down.)) I live with the knowledge of criminal visions and masterpiece compilations, but as of today I owe a bank my very and entire existence It is what it claims to be, these days ring true Nothing these days sounds like music but you. I put that book back on the shelf; Rewound the tape before I put it in the case I knew it would be late because, well That's the way it always is That's the way I always am I'm sorry mom. That's the way it always is— They told me I don't need no makeup on, However this may have only been true when I was ten to twenty two, Or twenty two, Or two whole years ago before the motorcycles stole my story. When I put the sun up in the sky, I suppose, is when I started this [that's called a God Complex] It's all behind us now, or rather All up front And out in the open In twelve point font As if I would ever cop to it I took the wrong way to Wall Street l Believe me l, i think of the tree at the rock, Long before this all was ever thought of, And I held her seed in the heart of my palm God said go the other way, I said “Okay” I want to see how much money I make; I wear makeup, I got nothing So much for a body I got stuck with words and good talking, And long vocabulary instead of the coast and a longboard So what's the cost for a whole table turn? So what's the cost for a “her—perfect.” Huh? What is the cost for some popcorn in Lorne's office? What is the cost just to cover the love boat theme song— Don't get me wrong I have original music I'm just hard getting to it; The motors are running The mirror: my mind is a murderer, murderer Engine's are purring are hurting her, hurting But I been wanting some corn on the cob To talk to my mom To call some place home To care for my son To wake up on Sunday past noon like “That was a good show.” And the next sold out . real talk, I got real problems Someone knows I'm on top of my thoughts at the rock, Choking back cocaine All the world under me, Mad at the world though For not looking up to me Huh I call this suffering Cause I already been been hungry, And homeless So I know this Pit-of-your stomach And tied to a brick at the bottom of the ocean feeling, that really Sits somewhere between “Hopeless” And “not good” But hey— If you were to say “how's your day” I answer “I'm great!” Like a positive, programmed robot or something, my mantras lately, replaced however with repetitive honest pleas of “Please help me.” Seems like— the only thing meaningful is saying this inside my Google documents; However, Seems like, It isn't worth the breathing, really Oddly, I forget to— Then I get this special feeling, Almost sentimental, inside my head I don't need medicine as much as I just need a friend besides my cat —thoughts of hammers in my brain— If I could tell you what the level of the pain is? Mercy. There doesn't seem to be a number Merry Christmas, Let's get displaced; Case is dismissed— Let's get shitfaced Wash the dishes, Pick the peloton, Pick imaginary friends And watch the President be hilarious, Until it effects us negative and in the read, When peanut butter bread and jelly All you ever get for breakfast For extended periods of time. Hah. Bloodshed? Wrong. Blood hound? Bad. Segmented thoughts on a toothache? Too late. I hate to tell you what the truth is, Cause you'd hate it. Useless. Jew fits; I just saved two cents on toothpaste And you got two new fits to wear for your friends approval and some cool picks But I can't do this anymore I want to choose live; Inside my death is The whole of the city, Electric and Thomas Edison And impressive Mister Business— Rockerfeller read about it; Somebody gotta learn and teach to squeeze the money out the people! Something simple says, “Just stop it.” Choke a chicken over breakfast, Thoughts of Belfast, real fast train to somewhere in LA, I think Today will be the day That I give bacon To charity, No care left, to give a gift So thankful, For being blessed with time to waste To write this piece of shit I guess I died I guess in family guy? I didn't like it, yet I think sometime's in stewie's cadence— …like, a British baby? And a talking dog? And a dumb ass dad? And a bunch of songs? And some salad dressing, To go with that master habit of getting Grams and Grammies; But in the long run, after a long talk on the roof with the opposite of God, I finally call a conference with all the lawyers of the court— But not to work at all, Only order sandwhiches Obsession has its advantages and platinum records, If you tap into it directly. Forget it. I'm out of magic. Or out of patience— out of time for petitions, But which one is it? Which dimension actually gets me picture perfect Instead of nervous in the eye of the beholders? Learn your lesson well; There's got to, got to be a reason why The wrong way is the right. There's got to be a reason why— My day becomes the night. There's got to be a reason for the words upon the paper, But I've got to figure out my rhythm later; I gone up instead of downtown, Turn the clock before the sunrise, I just want to find the love and the peace in it agai. Gotta love a synchronicity; I get stuck inside bronze statues Door way syndrome And I shutter just to never remember him But here the picture is, a perfect person Headless and befriended him, the lover The line inside my mind is crossed I'll suffer till I turn to dust on this one. My thoughts the first time I saw him? I hate him, Cause he'll never love me. What a troubled thought for a little girl on a lot of drugs and a weight problem. One more, I don't remember where I'm going Day to, I have to remember to forget you Take three, I'm happy that they pay me to tape these things Because I'm maybe going crazy; From the outside though, you wouldn't know it Low and behold, this is my show afterall And covered in gold like the whole of the moon I can play to the tune of two men, to two million don't let it torment you, You looks twisted Get out of your head, and turn off your television Go on a walk, Get run over by a bus or motorcycles Turn around and talk to God and your disciples — cause they all watch. Oh, what's wrong now? That's a long run, And now another pilot that I'm proud of— Stop looking at the ground— It hurts. Today, I learned my lesson, It was not a new apartment— It's a prison. I gotta say I kinda gotta love to wonder where the fuck I'm at besides “Manhattan”. The cat needs water, My heart needs captions. New York needs Jesus Hope he don't see this (Even if he did he probably wouldn't believe it, Or Even if he did He's having trouble learning English, And, Even if he did he had he's been repealing all his promises to return to us; We worship dollars A cock-shaped structures in New York— TIME TRAVELER Its called The Rock. SUPER NEW YORKER What. TIME TRAVELER I'm looking for The Rock. SUPER NEW YORKER What's that. TIME TRAVEL It's called “Rockefeller Plaza.” SUPER NEW YORKER What's that. TIME TRAVELER It's a building? I guess? SUPER NEW YORKER It's not. TIME TRAVELER It is. It's— SUPER NEW YORKER It's not. TIME TRAVELER But— *fucks off immidiately without any closure whatsoever.* TIME TRAVELER Huh. the TIME TRAVELER pulls up a picture on their device; the building itself seems to have disappeared from the photo; (Like Marty McFlyim back to the future) Contd Must be the wrong dimension… But then JOHN D. ROCKERFELLER Is MURDERED at the height of STANDARD OIL. Oh no! So that's what happened… Yeah? He was a bastard. Well! Damn. {Enter athe Multiverse} So you're everywhere all the time, And I got nothing left to run And we already talked the talk And we're already back to one Let the waves blow over, Cravings, tasting haze of periwinkle, heaven waking Putting every penny on the promise that you got me But you never save me, Really, Jesus? Racist! I got a lot of stakes in the game And all these snakes keep weighing in! I got these eight days left inside my head, And I'm a murderer Remember to admit his wrong you are Next time the caw will crow. I crevice drawing under rock Inside the undertoe, My surfboard heading home for shore, My body going under. Oh Conan, what have you done. I'm not sure yet. So? Go get him, you old hoot. I just want to watch a little longer! *feathers ruffled* What! It is comical So imm stuck inside the equinox on Wall Street catatonic, Adding up the dollar signs and losses, Well now, Got my hosts and calling cards, And struck with dirty dozens Doesn't anybody understand? [no. Nobody does.] Certainly, you know, nobody does this. Certainly, I'm folding all the shirts for all the husbands Certainly my love was lost, but for sure I didn't want it. For sure, I dropped a couple rocks I had inside my pocket . Well done, folks. Guess what? Those aren't crocodile tears I'm crying. I'm dehydrated but they're called psychic cause Nobody knows where they come from; Some would form the thought that you got water trapped inside your soul It only happens when the sun sheds hard tears Here, solar panels Animals and tragic circumstances, Fucking Asholes Never shine your diamond on the twilight, Shooting stars; Never shoot at birds from cars; Remember, They are flying. I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you, done. I swallowed you whole, I swallows you whole, I swallowed you down some. I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you up; I swallowed you whole I swallowed you whole, You know what the cost is Just a heads up, If you take a picture of a gamgstalkers face, They run away. The crime being committed is a non-contact form of combat, a scientifically proven biological weapon. When you begin to document this meticulously, a pattern of coordination begins to become established. It's no longer some sort of phenomenon, that can be written off as a symptom of a broken mind; The more evidence you gather, It becomes a verifiable crime. Remember that the point of it is to control you, to enslave your autonomy— to program you to believe something is wrong, when clearly, The signs of an awakened mind can pick out patterns in the construct of human social behavior that is not ours; it is a deficit in conciousness, a weakness, caused by the moral degradation of our souls in the societal world— A loss of God. And also remember, Humans have a history to seek and destroy which it does not understand, And cannot control— However, also, God comes in all forms. You must know when all is all. Okay, shh— Don't lock the door, now You got a pardon, You better run. I am an a-list celebrity; I am an “amen, sister— I hear that!” I am a medicine woman, A centrifugal figure, A ritual character, Skilled at charicature— A big Kimmel fan, A rick and a Morty, A woman a man, A puppet, the master, A cat in a hatbox, A blasphemous coffin; A wart on a warflower. Hm. Now who could possibly take that out of context? Soft surf rock at the equinox on Wall Street. I love all four stories, I rode all four horses, I put all four corners of the earth onto a surface Then I rolled it up Huh… Somebody does that. Leets go, hard core But don't forget the hot sauce Don't forget the — Smattercat?! SMATTERCAT?! SMAAAAAATERCAAAAAAAAAT! The Adventures of Atticus Catticus. Man, this is fucked up. I can't disagree with you. I can't get you out of my head (I want head) Can't get you out of my mind I find that You must want me dead Tan lines l You must want me off my meds! You want in me in bed at 9 sharp You know what!? You remind me of Harper. Now let's talk shop, Calm, little brother I went with the other oath— Don't you belong to God? Who's on the phone? Donald Trump. Tell him “no.” No to what? Just tell him “no.” Then he'll get here faster. So what do you got in your supplements? Simple psychology; Have a red album. Nah that. I got gold gold balls on all of my prostitutes Pulled apart orgasms, Never been touched, sire. Never have I took forgranted this passion( Never have —that flex— Theatrical pangentry. Never went Ham sandwhich Ham sandwhich Ham sandwhich GODDAMMIT. I thought you grant wishes. — also in charge of summoning. Part time. Well what are you mad about?! At least you got a job! I'm so sick of this kid, He just summons “Ham sandwhich” What's wrong with that? I gave him “ham sandwhich”, Alright?! All kinds, And you know what? That guy has all kinds of magic— All the kinds— Every kind you can imagine, And no matter what, He just wants. Hmmmm…: …. Come on. Summon a dog, or something… A new bike… ……. ……..:::: ……. …. Ham sandwhich. GOD DAMMIT. …and a kite. …what was that? I want a kite. Y…you want to fly a kite. Ya. Alright! But first. An, God. Ham Sandwhich. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? SO WHAT I LOVED NANCY REGAN! SHE HAD THE BEST CATCHPHRASES! AND ALL THE KENNEDIES! FUCK WITH ME. Somebody shoot that bitch. But sir— Before she runs for president. But sir… THINK OF IT LIKE KILLING BABY HITLER. You're right. TAKE THE SHOOOOOT. MEANWHILE… In the MULTIDIMENTIONAL SPACETIME SURVEILANCE FACILITY Oh good. What's that. Someone one assasinated me. That's good. I'll say. Wouldn't want you to run for president. Someone still would have had to elected me. Oh, you mean like in all these parallels over here. *shrugs* They'll collapse eventually. They haven't yet. I just got assasinated. Wait for it. I've been waiting. I don't get why you hate me so much. I'm indifferent, really, just waiting for something exciting. I just got assasinated. And I just got a ten cent raise. From what I can tell, doesn't make much of a differences. It's like, limited assimilation in this dimension; Did I correct you— Lessons, I'm not making any promises. Look out little brother! I set them on you. Got to put the pudding in your pot— And don't forget to floss. What's corrextions? Look, I'm anatomically correct— Shut up, Ken. I don't click on videos or images Because I love him It's just a crush, A pair of wooden crutches A horcrux And a fox A crucifix And Sunday Brunches. It's just a bunch of pictures, Edits, autographs, Extended plays It's just an infinite inside my head— It's been a couple days. A couple miles down And sure to go, You're all for it— Soon you got to know Whatever you done Has come for your— Stop the truck for misuse of four muses And autotune to ruin it— Your mascot is a narwhal But you're rooting for the Bruins. What is even a Bruin? A bunch of racist frat boys and hot bitches in sororities and covens? Bet that Okay, Like, I fall in love But just to write a bit I pour my heart out in a song And for the moment I could make forget i'm ugly Even if for the duration of the half time; Half a pack at halftime, Half a pack at bedtime 20 cigarettes on your 2020 vision. Three beers, Then three beers Thirty three years and he still won't love me Thirty three years and I'm still no woman. He shot first, So I shot back I forgot rock doves Served a purpose Postage For lost albums on the surface Surfboards For hot rod bod host, I offered up Conan, Now pick that hard eye Banjo up Water dance Pick that apple, Off the tree With not a scratch Hands tied behind your back; Baggage claim, River dance Pick it up without a fork You whispered us a state of trance For God's socks, If I fly coach, Low ball Lost a fortune Don't call me ‘bud' I think about your walk all day; Like, Three or four times, maybe Not no noodle soup, you wonder But you're asking for a Ballroom. Haggard. God did far too good a job on you; As the car jumped over the moon. I complete your meat puppet, But recently went vegan Line them up and then A heart attack, A hot bath, And a hammock. You got your offer, But I want it back, I want my roses. Golden proses so rit and rattle. I rot in hell for all I've done, then scramble; Damn. I just can't get you off my head without ramble You're probably on a tour bus; She's pulling out all the stop— But you're my monster, just know that Although I'm on top of her turf. So much for Service Monday. So much for making money on a conduit, a conduct. So much for love as. He aim for the head; I aim for the neck; He aim for the heart, I duck, I fall in her eyes, High water— No more cam tide Sunsets. What, I get you really wanted oceans, So you got them. Godsense. Pull, Conan Pull— Haul in! All in on your cards, But take the occult off them; Offering? Totem pole. More than one? I love to hope. Fix your face. Pull the plug— I'm off till Sunday, Off till Sunday. Ten days to Tuesday, You want no more Ten days to Sunday And ten more before that; Ten tongues before dawn, And other I slaughter And slaught cross the sloth, I wither, Your honor. Ten tales too soon, Ten wide my diamonds; Ten eyes in your Isis, My mind, Orion. Ten lost in the Outback; Ten lost on your mass, tongue Two whipped at the alter— I called her about that. So to the effect you check your fax and press the send, I'm steady living, never coming back, Or cap the president— Never living, Never listing residence on Madison You're stuck inside my half-life That I'm mad besides the medicine. You're stuck inside my past, Like all the knives inside my back, And still I fondly think upon a laugh, As ice cream sundaes, Half a sandwich Appetite for having all you are inside my master work of art, The world, your face I cut from clay inside my hands And I still have you in my swollen arteries, and trees the veins, The wicked summers and the bitter winters came, But did not cross paths, So to not bear ties, and to not plug Holes in the hull of the whole ship I think I sunk overtime instead of rather All at once, You know, It doesn't suffix What it takes to turn it back from “Love him” Into nothing. 20 hours passed and 20 cigarettes and ivory towers, But forgive the lives inside of Mormon wives and ice cold showers— Scatterbrained but highly trained in “Never Happened.” “Didn't matter.” So you roll it up into a movie script and call them actors. Why'd you flash me, dancer, Don't you know how bad I want that? Out inside your dozens, for my cinnamon coated combat Nail box fires Had you ordered Your desires Flow the golden drifter Fear of rivers never frozen. Don't you know the sun draws close But the heart grows cold, But the want goes harder? Don't you know the doors get shut, And the Kings get cut, And the wind blows wilder? Don't you know the stars just fall from the sky (They all fall from the sky, They fell from the sky) Don't you know We're all gonna die Put a trial to the wand, Fore you take her heart out Ten times. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025 The Festival Project, Inc. ™ All rights reserved. Chroma111. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025. [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights reserved. UNAUTHORIZED REPRODUCTION OR DISTRIBUTION IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED BY LAW. INFRIGMENT IS PUNSHABLE BY FEDERAL LAW ​​

Who left a whole box of corn flakes In a locker At the Equinox On Wall Street? I told you go to the one at The Rock. I told you, I'm not going on that block, like at all. {Enter The Multiverse} That's just my Karma, Ms. Nancy; I did a whole lot than just Thought about it More edits, More recognition that I—l couldn't stand it; The planet just seems to get smaller and smaller With less and less plants in it; I have your pants on, But shoes didn't fit I wrote a whole book and resenting But still not the movies, I meant it. Damn. She's just so much better than I am Head in a frying pan on high beforehand, And however damaged, It felt bad I know what I did I felt that Camera Obscura, for sure, you know But disconnect, Swallow badders, wha— t?! Get my peanut butter up; Why! I'm a circus monkey; Damn. I got karma faster Than I should have known I lost episodes And threw away the whole entire show I went running long And then I threw up on the subway I only like the one Sublime album (The one with wrong way.) You know? Cuh' I went the wrong way I fucked up on all my dollars I got karma back hard, yah Got a poem or prose or song on ol' Ms. Molly, too, (or two) I fall in love inside the tube, Truth is, though Teletubbies and teleportation Ain't so far off from where I come from Problem is, Opporsite world, I'm the story of the whole show; For sure dawg. —a situational Thought process. When the crack finally kicks in, Astounding the loss of my confidence I've gotten lost in a toxic land I got syndrome “talk to much” Not on the spectrum, nor diagnosable X's and O's on the tic tac toe board, Just an underhanded “I told you so” All the rockstars want —Subtle thoughts of suicide as the train approaches? Nah, Models and the other types of girls That never work at all, They just born at it. I got bored with it, But not the fourth one, Cross my first amendment, On my heart like catholic More like Bart Simpsons, Like art magic Cause I won't watch that show But love Matt Groening— Maybe I'm the type that just Love hating But hate loving with No way to I don't hate you; Yeah you're right, I'm off Take two. ((Good Luck Riding The J Home.)) Not a gym run, a different kind of cause, I guess I got so many plausible options, I guess I should call on one of them, Toss a number up, struck the dog on mathematics I can't let my lantern out of gas, We're not friends, are we? What a fiend! Are you offended? I just want to see my dreams relayed to me— Is that too much to ask? So I'm the asshole. What did I pack a bag for?! Picnic baskets. What did I leave this curse for? Nothing, Thanks for asking, Nance. I put a pilot on the presence of a whole color— phenomenon. I swallowed all my pride and presence just for an automaton. This automation algorithm— is it? Doesn't make a difference. I spilled blood inside my kitchen, Put deposits on a flicker, Tricked the treasure at a phantom, Phantom I want more but swallowed all my high pulp orange juice on knowledge of the only one; There's only God, There's only us— There's only cause+ effect, 6 more albums, note books and a couple novels that came out of that one. Squeeze em hard, ya'll. Don't let me love God. Don't let me talk back, I'm not about a rack. Tantrum, yes. Talk to my God. Please. Talk to me God. Now. Talk to my family one time. Now. Talk out me sideways— Now. Bring me a rebel. Now. I have a headache. Now. I got regrets son. Now I got a dead son, a dead daughter a ghost cat and George Jettson, Michael Jackson and George Zimmerman, all of my tabs open: I take a tab hoping I fall asleep on the cold ocean, Calm before storm comes Out on a surfboard Look at the full moon— Nobody can hear you so SCREAM. Now. For crying out loud, Take the knife out, For a second or thought, I'm a wife now; What back handed thought or a back and on blacklist— Your back room was only your conscious— Now I'm looking at my left side, Also catatonic, Not aboard the problem like you wanted, What an order form for border patrol, You want tall glasses of hard fortune, Work hard for it, or rosemary pork on sourdough. I'm in love with you, but in poverty— There the devil is. But oh, aren't we all familiar? Suit and tie hangs to the tide, I tie the knot with rope from which I die, And quickly crafting coffins, want to walk around before I go off, Diving board or world one antenna? Not to mention it, redirect the attention and energy into something other than consumptive— Everything I do and everywhere I go, I clutch this stone Or put inside my pockets knowing if I let it go Or it falls out and to the ground Not only will I float up, But the world will open And swallow us all whole ((Down.)) I live with the knowledge of criminal visions and masterpiece compilations, but as of today I owe a bank my very and entire existence It is what it claims to be, these days ring true Nothing these days sounds like music but you. I put that book back on the shelf; Rewound the tape before I put it in the case I knew it would be late because, well That's the way it always is That's the way I always am I'm sorry mom. That's the way it always is— They told me I don't need no makeup on, However this may have only been true when I was ten to twenty two, Or twenty two, Or two whole years ago before the motorcycles stole my story. When I put the sun up in the sky, I suppose, is when I started this [that's called a God Complex] It's all behind us now, or rather All up front And out in the open In twelve point font As if I would ever cop to it I took the wrong way to Wall Street l Believe me l, i think of the tree at the rock, Long before this all was ever thought of, And I held her seed in the heart of my palm God said go the other way, I said “Okay” I want to see how much money I make; I wear makeup, I got nothing So much for a body I got stuck with words and good talking, And long vocabulary instead of the coast and a longboard So what's the cost for a whole table turn? So what's the cost for a “her—perfect.” Huh? What is the cost for some popcorn in Lorne's office? What is the cost just to cover the love boat theme song— Don't get me wrong I have original music I'm just hard getting to it; The motors are running The mirror: my mind is a murderer, murderer Engine's are purring are hurting her, hurting But I been wanting some corn on the cob To talk to my mom To call some place home To care for my son To wake up on Sunday past noon like “That was a good show.” And the next sold out . real talk, I got real problems Someone knows I'm on top of my thoughts at the rock, Choking back cocaine All the world under me, Mad at the world though For not looking up to me Huh I call this suffering Cause I already been been hungry, And homeless So I know this Pit-of-your stomach And tied to a brick at the bottom of the ocean feeling, that really Sits somewhere between “Hopeless” And “not good” But hey— If you were to say “how's your day” I answer “I'm great!” Like a positive, programmed robot or something, my mantras lately, replaced however with repetitive honest pleas of “Please help me.” Seems like— the only thing meaningful is saying this inside my Google documents; However, Seems like, It isn't worth the breathing, really Oddly, I forget to— Then I get this special feeling, Almost sentimental, inside my head I don't need medicine as much as I just need a friend besides my cat —thoughts of hammers in my brain— If I could tell you what the level of the pain is? Mercy. There doesn't seem to be a number Merry Christmas, Let's get displaced; Case is dismissed— Let's get shitfaced Wash the dishes, Pick the peloton, Pick imaginary friends And watch the President be hilarious, Until it effects us negative and in the read, When peanut butter bread and jelly All you ever get for breakfast For extended periods of time. Hah. Bloodshed? Wrong. Blood hound? Bad. Segmented thoughts on a toothache? Too late. I hate to tell you what the truth is, Cause you'd hate it. Useless. Jew fits; I just saved two cents on toothpaste And you got two new fits to wear for your friends approval and some cool picks But I can't do this anymore I want to choose live; Inside my death is The whole of the city, Electric and Thomas Edison And impressive Mister Business— Rockerfeller read about it; Somebody gotta learn and teach to squeeze the money out the people! Something simple says, “Just stop it.” Choke a chicken over breakfast, Thoughts of Belfast, real fast train to somewhere in LA, I think Today will be the day That I give bacon To charity, No care left, to give a gift So thankful, For being blessed with time to waste To write this piece of shit I guess I died I guess in family guy? I didn't like it, yet I think sometime's in stewie's cadence— …like, a British baby? And a talking dog? And a dumb ass dad? And a bunch of songs? And some salad dressing, To go with that master habit of getting Grams and Grammies; But in the long run, after a long talk on the roof with the opposite of God, I finally call a conference with all the lawyers of the court— But not to work at all, Only order sandwhiches Obsession has its advantages and platinum records, If you tap into it directly. Forget it. I'm out of magic. Or out of patience— out of time for petitions, But which one is it? Which dimension actually gets me picture perfect Instead of nervous in the eye of the beholders? Learn your lesson well; There's got to, got to be a reason why The wrong way is the right. There's got to be a reason why— My day becomes the night. There's got to be a reason for the words upon the paper, But I've got to figure out my rhythm later; I gone up instead of downtown, Turn the clock before the sunrise, I just want to find the love and the peace in it agai. Gotta love a synchronicity; I get stuck inside bronze statues Door way syndrome And I shutter just to never remember him But here the picture is, a perfect person Headless and befriended him, the lover The line inside my mind is crossed I'll suffer till I turn to dust on this one. My thoughts the first time I saw him? I hate him, Cause he'll never love me. What a troubled thought for a little girl on a lot of drugs and a weight problem. One more, I don't remember where I'm going Day to, I have to remember to forget you Take three, I'm happy that they pay me to tape these things Because I'm maybe going crazy; From the outside though, you wouldn't know it Low and behold, this is my show afterall And covered in gold like the whole of the moon I can play to the tune of two men, to two million don't let it torment you, You looks twisted Get out of your head, and turn off your television Go on a walk, Get run over by a bus or motorcycles Turn around and talk to God and your disciples — cause they all watch. Oh, what's wrong now? That's a long run, And now another pilot that I'm proud of— Stop looking at the ground— It hurts. Today, I learned my lesson, It was not a new apartment— It's a prison. I gotta say I kinda gotta love to wonder where the fuck I'm at besides “Manhattan”. The cat needs water, My heart needs captions. New York needs Jesus Hope he don't see this (Even if he did he probably wouldn't believe it, Or Even if he did He's having trouble learning English, And, Even if he did he had he's been repealing all his promises to return to us; We worship dollars A cock-shaped structures in New York— TIME TRAVELER Its called The Rock. SUPER NEW YORKER What. TIME TRAVELER I'm looking for The Rock. SUPER NEW YORKER What's that. TIME TRAVEL It's called “Rockefeller Plaza.” SUPER NEW YORKER What's that. TIME TRAVELER It's a building? I guess? SUPER NEW YORKER It's not. TIME TRAVELER It is. It's— SUPER NEW YORKER It's not. TIME TRAVELER But— *fucks off immidiately without any closure whatsoever.* TIME TRAVELER Huh. the TIME TRAVELER pulls up a picture on their device; the building itself seems to have disappeared from the photo; (Like Marty McFlyim back to the future) Contd Must be the wrong dimension… But then JOHN D. ROCKERFELLER Is MURDERED at the height of STANDARD OIL. Oh no! So that's what happened… Yeah? He was a bastard. Well! Damn. {Enter athe Multiverse} So you're everywhere all the time, And I got nothing left to run And we already talked the talk And we're already back to one Let the waves blow over, Cravings, tasting haze of periwinkle, heaven waking Putting every penny on the promise that you got me But you never save me, Really, Jesus? Racist! I got a lot of stakes in the game And all these snakes keep weighing in! I got these eight days left inside my head, And I'm a murderer Remember to admit his wrong you are Next time the caw will crow. I crevice drawing under rock Inside the undertoe, My surfboard heading home for shore, My body going under. Oh Conan, what have you done. I'm not sure yet. So? Go get him, you old hoot. I just want to watch a little longer! *feathers ruffled* What! It is comical So i'm stuck inside the equinox on Wall Street catatonic, Adding up the dollar signs and losses, Well now, Got my hosts and calling cards, And struck with dirty dozens Doesn't anybody understand? [no. Nobody does.] Certainly, you know, nobody does this. Certainly, I'm folding all the shirts for all the husbands Certainly my love was lost, but for sure I didn't want it. For sure, I dropped a couple rocks I had inside my pocket . Well done, folks. Guess what? Those aren't crocodile tears I'm crying. I'm dehydrated but they're called psychic cause Nobody knows where they come from; Some would form the thought that you got water trapped inside your soul It only happens when the sun sheds hard tears Here, solar panels Animals and tragic circumstances, Fucking Asholes Never shine your diamond on the twilight, Shooting stars; Never shoot at birds from cars; Remember, They are flying. I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you, done. I swallowed you whole, I swallows you whole, I swallowed you down some. I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you up; I swallowed you whole I swallowed you whole, You know what the cost is Just a heads up, If you take a picture of a gamgstalkers face, They run away. The crime being committed is a non-contact form of combat, a scientifically proven biological weapon. When you begin to document this meticulously, a pattern of coordination begins to become established. It's no longer some sort of phenomenon, that can be written off as a symptom of a broken mind; The more evidence you gather, It becomes a verifiable crime. Remember that the point of it is to control you, to enslave your autonomy— to program you to believe something is wrong, when clearly, The signs of an awakened mind can pick out patterns in the construct of human social behavior that is not ours; it is a deficit in conciousness, a weakness, caused by the moral degradation of our souls in the societal world— A loss of God. And also remember, Humans have a history to seek and destroy which it does not understand, And cannot control— However, also, God comes in all forms. You must know when all is all. Okay, shh— Don't lock the door, now You got a pardon, You better run. I am an a-list celebrity; I am an “amen, sister— I hear that!” I am a medicine woman, A centrifugal figure, A ritual character, Skilled at charicature— A big Kimmel fan, A rick and a Morty, A woman a man, A puppet, the master, A cat in a hatbox, A blasphemous coffin; A wart on a warflower. Hm. Now who could possibly take that out of context? Soft surf rock at the equinox on Wall Street. I love all four stories, I rode all four horses, I put all four corners of the earth onto a surface Then I rolled it up Huh… Somebody does that. Leets go, hard core But don't forget the hot sauce Don't forget the — Smattercat?! SMATTERCAT?! SMAAAAAATERCAAAAAAAAAT! The Adventures of Atticus Catticus. Man, this is fucked up. I can't disagree with you. I can't get you out of my head (I want head) Can't get you out of my mind I find that You must want me dead Tan lines l You must want me off my meds! You want in me in bed at 9 sharp You know what!? You remind me of Harper. Now let's talk shop, Calm, little brother I went with the other oath— Don't you belong to God? Who's on the phone? Donald Trump. Tell him “no.” No to what? Just tell him “no.” Then he'll get here faster. So what do you got in your supplements? Simple psychology; Have a red album. Nah that. I got gold gold balls on all of my prostitutes Pulled apart orgasms, Never been touched, sire. Never have I took forgranted this passion( Never have —that flex— Theatrical pangentry. Never went Ham sandwhich Ham sandwhich Ham sandwhich GODDAMMIT. I thought you grant wishes. — also in charge of summoning. Part time. Well what are you mad about?! At least you got a job! I'm so sick of this kid, He just summons “Ham sandwhich” What's wrong with that? I gave him “ham sandwhich”, Alright?! All kinds, And you know what? That guy has all kinds of magic— All the kinds— Every kind you can imagine, And no matter what, He just wants. Hmmmm…: …. Come on. Summon a dog, or something… A new bike… ……. ……..:::: ……. …. Ham sandwhich. GOD DAMMIT. …and a kite. …what was that? I want a kite. Y…you want to fly a kite. Ya. Alright! But first. An, God. Ham Sandwhich. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? SO WHAT I LOVED NANCY REGAN! SHE HAD THE BEST CATCHPHRASES! AND ALL THE KENNEDIES! FUCK WITH ME. Somebody shoot that bitch. But sir— Before she runs for president. But sir… THINK OF IT LIKE KILLING BABY HITLER. You're right. TAKE THE SHOOOOOT. MEANWHILE… In the MULTIDIMENTIONAL SPACETIME SURVEILANCE FACILITY Oh good. What's that. Someone one assasinated me. That's good. I'll say. Wouldn't want you to run for president. Someone still would have had to elected me. Oh, you mean like in all these parallels over here. *shrugs* They'll collapse eventually. They haven't yet. I just got assasinated. Wait for it. I've been waiting. I don't get why you hate me so much. I'm indifferent, really, just waiting for something exciting. I just got assasinated. And I just got a ten cent raise. From what I can tell, doesn't make much of a differences. It's like, limited assimilation in this dimension; Did I correct you— Lessons, I'm not making any promises. Look out little brother! I set them on you. Got to put the pudding in your pot— And don't forget to floss. What's corrextions? Look, I'm anatomically correct— Shut up, Ken. I don't click on videos or images Because I love him It's just a crush, A pair of wooden crutches A horcrux And a fox A crucifix And Sunday Brunches. It's just a bunch of pictures, Edits, autographs, Extended plays It's just an infinite inside my head— It's been a couple days. A couple miles down And sure to go, You're all for it— Soon you got to know Whatever you done Has come for your— Stop the truck for misuse of four muses And autotune to ruin it— Your mascot is a narwhal But you're rooting for the Bruins. What is even a Bruin? A bunch of racist frat boys and hot bitches in sororities and covens? Bet that Okay, Like, I fall in love But just to write a bit I pour my heart out in a song And for the moment I could make forget i'm ugly Even if for the duration of the half time; Half a pack at halftime, Half a pack at bedtime 20 cigarettes on your 2020 vision. Three beers, Then three beers Thirty three years and he still won't love me Thirty three years and I'm still no woman. He show first, So I shot back I forgot rock doves Served a purpose Postage For lost albums on the surface Surfboards For hot rod bod host, I offered up Conan, Now pick that hard eye Banjo up Water dance Pick that apple, Off the tree With not a scratch Hands tied behind your back; Baggage claim, River dance Pick it up without a fork You whispered us a state of trance For God's socks, If I fly coach, Low ball Lost a fortune Don't call me ‘bud' I think about your walk all day; Like, Three or four times, maybe Not no noodle soup, you wonder But you're asking for a Ballroom. Haggard. God did far too good a job on you; As the car jumped over the moon. I complete your meat puppet, But recently went vegan Line them up and then A heart attack, A hot bath, And a hammock. You got your offer, But I want it back, I want my roses. Golden proses so rit and rattle. I rot in hell for all I've done, then scramble; Damn. I just can't get you off my head without ramble You're probably on a tour bus; She's pulling out all the stop— But you're my monster, just know that Although I'm on top of her turf. So much for Service Monday. So much for making money on a conduit, a conduct. So much for love as. He aim for the head; I aim for the neck; He aim for the heart, I duck, I fall in her eyes, High water— No more cam tide Sunsets. What, I get you really wanted oceans, So you got them. Godsense. Pull, Conan Pull— Haul in! All in on your cards, But take the occult off them; Offering? Totem pole. More than one? I love to hope. Fix your face. Pull the plug— I'm off till Sunday, Off till Sunday. Ten days to Tuesday, You want no more Ten days to Sunday And ten more before that; Ten tongues before dawn, And other I slaughter And slaught cross the sloth, I wither, Your honor. Ten tales too soon, Ten wide my diamonds; Ten eyes in your Isis, My mind, Orion. Ten lost in the Outback; Ten lost on your mass, tongue Two whipped at the alter— I called her about that. So to the effect you check your fax and press the send, I'm steady living, never coming back, Or cap the president— Never living, Never listing residence on Madison You're stuck inside my half-life That I'm mad besides the medicine. You're stuck inside my past, Like all the knives inside my back, And still I fondly think upon a laugh, As ice cream sundaes, Half a sandwich Appetite for having all you are inside my master work of art, The world, your face I cut from clay inside my hands And I still have you in my swollen arteries, and trees the veins, The wicked summers and the bitter winters came, But did not cross paths, So to not bear ties, and to not plug Holes in the hull of the whole ship I think I sunk overtime instead of rather All at once, You know, It doesn't suffix What it takes to turn it back from “Love him” Into nothing. 20 hours passed and 20 cigarettes and ivory towers, But forgive the lives inside of Mormon wives and ice cold showers— Scatterbrained but highly trained in “Never Happened.” “Didn't matter.” So you roll it up into a movie script and call them actors. Why'd you flash me, dancer, Don't you know how bad I want that? Out inside your dozens, for my cinnamon coated combat Nail box fires Had you ordered Your desires Flow the golden drifter Fear of rivers never frozen. Don't you know the sun draws close But the heart grows cold, But the want goes harder? Don't you know the doors get shut, And the Kings get cut, And the wind blows wilder? Don't you know the stars just fall from the sky (They all fall from the sky, They fell from the sky) Don't you know We're all gonna die Put a trial to the wand, Fore you take her heart out Ten times.

This week on WTFolklore, we read The Dog and the Sparrow, another Grimm tale that has somehow yet alluded our eyeballs...but no longer! Suggested talking points: The Tortoise and the Highlander, A Private Collection of Spheres, KrampusCon, Bart Simpson's God-Fearing Face, Maintaining the Crime Ecosystem, A Cactus Does Not Grow on Gossip Alone, CornborneCheck out Gordie's TTRPG, MythomorphosisIf you'd like to support Carman's artistic endeavors, visit: https://www.patreon.com/carmandaartsthingsIf you like our show, find us online to help spread the word! Follow us on Twitter, Facebook, and Youtube. Support us on Patreon to help the show grow at www.patreon.com/wtfolklore. You can find merchandise and information about the show at www.wtfolklorepodcast.com.

It's the first ever episode of The Bark Back - where, every Friday, we hear from you!Jack, Seann and Sara discuss the new OMD newsletter, react to your survey confessions, and dive into your Spotify comments (Jordan and Stephanie from Fetcher Dog remain icons) and emails.Plus: the argument that could break the internet - what colour is Nick's dog? Jack, Seann and Sara settle it once and for all.It's fast, fun and entirely powered by you.Donate to Fetcher Dog: Fetcherdog.comDont forget to ⁠⁠⁠⁠SIGN UP TO OUR NEWSLETTER⁠⁠⁠⁠: http://tiny.cc/pjwu001Email us and send in your voice notes: hello@omdpod.comFollow us on IG: @omdpod @juniperomd @fetcherdog00:00 Introduction to Bark Back02:00 The first OMD Newsletter 02:25 The survey results - what percentage of our listeners have told people off for not picking up 05:25 What bonuses you get with the newsletter06:38 Your spotify comments - everyone loved Jordan and Stephanie from Fetcher Dog07:55 Seann sponsors a guide dog09:53 Bart Simpson enters the chat11:10 Jordan's feedback on Lizzie's dog reacting to the electricity coming from the light switch12:23 Jack and Seann are doing a show together in December12:43 Seann went to see Jack's tour13:23 A message from Westie Woo Woo who loves the show14:00 Listener Caroline Sledgers tells us dogs see in sepia and yellow and blue says this was from 14:56 Seann doesn't remember that he's given the blue yellow fact in the past16:30 Nick Bolton asks Jack, Seann and Sara to settle an argument over the colour of their dog 18:52 Jack, Seann and Sara decide on the colour19:19 Saying goodbye and don't forget to get in touch!#OhMyDogPodcast #TheBarkBack #DogPodcast #JackDee #SeannWalsh #DogDebate #ComedyPodcast

“All bands are sad stories,” Peter Doggett points out, but is there a more woven, moving and, at times, farcical tale than that of the Beach Boys? It gives the sound of them a greater melancholy and resonance with every passing year. As his fascinating new book Surf's Up reveals, nothing that happened is straightforward and very little as simple as it sounds. We talk here about … … Dennis Wilson and the Beach Boys' creation myth … what started their revival … why they'd never have survived beyond 1962 without Mike Love … was Derek Taylor's ‘Brian is a genius' campaign partly to explain his procrastination and eccentricity? … the chaos of SMiLE and the long shadow of the Beatles … Murry Wilson's “superstar” ambitions and original plan for the group … the days when they looked like Old Testament prophets or hippies from Central Casting … Dennis and Manson, Carl v the draft, Mike Love's arrest … scandals that would have sunk them in the days of social media … the “Brian as victim trope” and his extraordinary appearance on “The Tension Behind the Music” … when Bart Simpson turned them down … can anyone name a good Beach Boys album cover? … and the band's future, a controlled touring franchise with no original members Order Peter Doggett's ‘Surf's Up: Brian Wilson & the Beach Boys' here: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Surfs-Up-Brian-Wilson-Beach/dp/1917923341Help us to keep The Longest Conversation In Rock going: https://www.patreon.com/wordinyourear Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

“All bands are sad stories,” Peter Doggett points out, but is there a more woven, moving and, at times, farcical tale than that of the Beach Boys? It gives the sound of them a greater melancholy and resonance with every passing year. As his fascinating new book Surf's Up reveals, nothing that happened is straightforward and very little as simple as it sounds. We talk here about … … Dennis Wilson and the Beach Boys' creation myth … what started their revival … why they'd never have survived beyond 1962 without Mike Love … was Derek Taylor's ‘Brian is a genius' campaign partly to explain his procrastination and eccentricity? … the chaos of SMiLE and the long shadow of the Beatles … Murry Wilson's “superstar” ambitions and original plan for the group … the days when they looked like Old Testament prophets or hippies from Central Casting … Dennis and Manson, Carl v the draft, Mike Love's arrest … scandals that would have sunk them in the days of social media … the “Brian as victim trope” and his extraordinary appearance on “The Tension Behind the Music” … when Bart Simpson turned them down … can anyone name a good Beach Boys album cover? … and the band's future, a controlled touring franchise with no original members Order Peter Doggett's ‘Surf's Up: Brian Wilson & the Beach Boys' here: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Surfs-Up-Brian-Wilson-Beach/dp/1917923341Help us to keep The Longest Conversation In Rock going: https://www.patreon.com/wordinyourear Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

“All bands are sad stories,” Peter Doggett points out, but is there a more woven, moving and, at times, farcical tale than that of the Beach Boys? It gives the sound of them a greater melancholy and resonance with every passing year. As his fascinating new book Surf's Up reveals, nothing that happened is straightforward and very little as simple as it sounds. We talk here about … … Dennis Wilson and the Beach Boys' creation myth … what started their revival … why they'd never have survived beyond 1962 without Mike Love … was Derek Taylor's ‘Brian is a genius' campaign partly to explain his procrastination and eccentricity? … the chaos of SMiLE and the long shadow of the Beatles … Murry Wilson's “superstar” ambitions and original plan for the group … the days when they looked like Old Testament prophets or hippies from Central Casting … Dennis and Manson, Carl v the draft, Mike Love's arrest … scandals that would have sunk them in the days of social media … the “Brian as victim trope” and his extraordinary appearance on “The Tension Behind the Music” … when Bart Simpson turned them down … can anyone name a good Beach Boys album cover? … and the band's future, a controlled touring franchise with no original members Order Peter Doggett's ‘Surf's Up: Brian Wilson & the Beach Boys' here: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Surfs-Up-Brian-Wilson-Beach/dp/1917923341Help us to keep The Longest Conversation In Rock going: https://www.patreon.com/wordinyourear Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

A new week means new questions! Hope you have fun with these!Mn is the chemical symbol for which element?Nancy Cartwright, the voice of Bart Simpson, is the Aunt of what pop star who just released her seventh studio album, "Man's Best Friend"?Switching from overhead to an isometric view, which 1993 game was released as a sequel to the original SimCity?Aleppo is the largest city in which country?What rags to riches story by David Szalay just won the 2025 Booker Prize?Enjoy a Freshmaker while visiting this 555 foot tall shining white obelisk in the middle of the National Mall of Washington DC.In the TV show "Friends", what is the name of Central Perk's main barista, played by actor James Michael Tyler?With over 400 active volcanoes, what is the most geologically active object in the Solar System?Miroslav Klose, Ronaldo, Gerd Müller and Just Fontaine are the top four scorers in what event?According to an over the counter product's ads from the 1970s, "How do you spell relief"?With over 800 species, what type of crab lives in a cast-off mollusc shell?"Into the Woods", "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum" and "Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street" are all musicals with music and lyrics by which composer?What Renowned painter of classical and mythological scenes — works like Flaming June and The Return of Persephone, was the first painter to be given a peerage title and only held it for one day before his death, the shortest in history?Which branch of mathematics is latin for "small pebble"?What Spanish sauce containing roasted peppers, almonds, garlic, & tomatoes sounds very similar to a member of the broccoli family?In 1779, where did Captain James Cook die?MusicHot Swing, Fast Talkin, Bass Walker, Dances and Dames, Ambush by Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com)Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0 http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/Don't forget to follow us on social media:Patreon – patreon.com/quizbang – Please consider supporting us on Patreon. Check out our fun extras for patrons and help us keep this podcast going. We appreciate any level of support!Website – quizbangpod.com Check out our website, it will have all the links for social media that you need and while you're there, why not go to the contact us page and submit a question!Facebook – @quizbangpodcast – we post episode links and silly lego pictures to go with our trivia questions. Enjoy the silly picture and give your best guess, we will respond to your answer the next day to give everyone a chance to guess.Instagram – Quiz Quiz Bang Bang (quizquizbangbang), we post silly lego pictures to go with our trivia questions. Enjoy the silly picture and give your best guess, we will respond to your answer the next day to give everyone a chance to guess.Twitter – @quizbangpod We want to start a fun community for our fellow trivia lovers. If you hear/think of a fun or challenging trivia question, post it to our twitter feed and we will repost it so everyone can take a stab it. Come for the trivia – stay for the trivia.Ko-Fi – ko-fi.com/quizbangpod – Keep that sweet caffeine running through our body with a Ko-Fi, power us through a late night of fact checking and editing!

Hoy tendremos que hacer un ejercicio de memoria fuerte para recordar al único que conseguía que no quisiéramos bajar a la plazoleta con la bici, hoy recordaremos a Emilio Aragón Bermúdez. El pequeño Emilio nació el 4 de noviembre de 1929 en Carmona, un pueblo que hay al lao de Sevilla Este. Emilio pertenecía a la saga de la familia Áragon, hijo de “Emig” y “Rociober”, un payaso y una bailarina acróbata sobre caballo que no fallaba con la babucha ni aunque los niños le llenaran el suelo de cowboys de a peseta. Emilio era el más chico de 3 varones, el mayor era Gabriel y el mediano, Alfonso. También tenía una hermana, Rocío. El padre obligó a los 3 niños a aprender a tocar algún instrumento musical porque todos sabemos que los músicos no pasan hambre. Como la familia pasaba largas temporadas “fuera”, estaban un día los 3 chiquillos en la carpa del hombre bala, aburridos y triste por el clima de Dinamarca, que allí el sol calienta menos que una leche de Ruiz Mateos, y se les ocurrió que lo mejor para volver a España era montarse en una barca como si llevaran chocolate Belga de Tetuán a La Línea. Hasta que una patrulla marítima los encontró a la deriva y los devolvió al circo. La documentación no dice nada más, pero imagino que de la bronca que se llevaron en Dinamarca se puso firme hasta Hitler en Berlín. Su carrera empezó con 9 años, en 1938, que el día que Miliki tuvo que imprimir la Vida Laboral pa la jubilación, la acciones de “Herle Paka” subieron un 70%. Un año más tarde, con 10 añitos, ya formó el trío que le llevaría a triunfar con sus hermanos: “Gaby, Fofó y Emilín” porque al principio a Emilio lo llamaban Emilín, hasta que un día una guiri, amiga de sus padres, lo rebautizó como “Miliki” porque estaba jarta de decir mal el nombre y que el niño la ignorara más que a un shangüi de jamón york en un cumpleaños. Los 3 empezaron a trabajar en el Circo Price hasta que en los años 40 se fueron a Cuba donde estaba Fulgencio Batista, que tenía a la gente tan apesadumbrada que cuando llegaron los coreaban como si fuera el Chef Jose Andrés repartiendo bocadillos de mortadela. Luego se fueron a Puerto Rico y siguieron triunfando en Centroamérica y EEUU. En 1952, Emilio se casó con Rita, una cubana de ascendencia asturiana con la que tendría 4 hijos, María del Pilar, María Amparo, Rita Irasema y Emilio Aragón. En 1972 vuelven por fin a España, pero esta vez en avión porque el estrecho tenía más vigilancia que el LouvBUENO ES IGUAL. TVE los había contratado para deleitar a los niños españoles al grito de ¡Al suelo todo el munDIGO ¿CÓMO ESTÁN USTEDEEEES?! Ya en esta época tenía el armario como Bart Simpson, la narí que tampoco necesitaba mucho atrezo y estaba empezando la digievolución a Alfredo Landa. Cuando su hermano Fofó murió, se le puso el pelo blanco y el programa siguió adelante sólo con 3 componentes hasta que se unió Milikito que no hablaba pero se comunicaba con un cencerro y que de mayor usaría los traje chaqueta con tenis blancos, los estereotipos de andaluces sirvientes en sus series y los billetes de 50€ pa limpiarse el CU…ANDO el programa “Había una vez un circo” se retiró de la programación, Miliki dejó el grupo y se dedicó a sus cosa hasta que finalmente se retiró en 1999, que todavía le están imprimiendo la vida laboral. Desgraciadamente, el 18 de noviembre de 2012, a los 83 años, Miliki se preguntó por última vez cómo estaríamos aunque ustedes siempre podrán recordarlo cada vez que el sol caliente menos que una leche de Ruiz-Mateos o vean llena, al final de un cumpleaños, la bandeja de shangüis de jamón york.

National Chucky the notorious killer doll day. Entertrainment from 1961. King of Greece dies from a monkey bite, US Sub torpedo's itself, 1st electronic watches went on sale. Todays birthdays - Pablo Picasso, Minnie Pearl, Marion Ross, Helen Reddy, John Anderson, Nancy Cartwright, Mark Miller, Ed Robertson, Katy Perry, Ciara. Vincent Price diedIntro - God did good - Dianna Corcoran     https://www.diannacorcoran.com/ Chucky sings a songRunaround sue - DionWalk on bye - Leroy Van DykeBirthdays - In da club - 50 Cent    http://50cent.com/Happy Days TV themeI am woman - Helen ReddyLeave it - YesDo the Bartman - The SimpsonsSome girls do - Sawyer BrownOne week - Barenaked LadiesTeenage dream - Katy Perry1 2 step - CiaraExit - Time Bomb - Jason Sturgeon      https://www.jasonsturgeonmusic.com/countryundergroundradio.comHistory & Factoids about today webpage

Subscribe now to skip the ads and get much more content. Don't forget to vote for AP in the 2025 Signal Awards! In a break from the (overtly) political, Derek and Danny are joined by The Ringer's Alan Siegel to talk about his new book Stupid TV: Be More Funny, a cultural history of The Simpsons and how it changed American comedy. They discuss how a bunch of Harvard Lampoon alumni turned the show into art, the role of Fox and Rupert Murdoch in promoting a show that mocked them both, how Bart Simpson once terrified America's parents (and George H.W. Bush), the show's postmodern worldview, and the moment The Simpsons went from anti-establishment to establishment. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

This week's new albums: Playlunch | Queen Rodeo | Bass Drum Of DeathAlso: Beeso hates your children, the Aunty Donna effect, PNW climate soundtracks, vibe dependency, future JJJ faves, garage bands on GarageBand, stealth mic'ing, drops without builds, Spotify genre or new hop varietal?, more slide whistle, ten cent beer disco demolition night, stopped clocks, jetskis mitigate against creativity, the algorithm says you're washed, DJ Napster, getting thrown out of Angus & Robertson, short notice offers, GC Indy > Singapore GP, the Bart Simpson defence, self-policing karma, Playlunch innings, era corrections and glory hunting fails.1:01 Playlunch6:52 Queen Rodeo10:06 Bass Drum Of Death 17:33 Next week's picks27:27 After DarkNext week: Say She She | Snõõper | The Living EndSpotify playlists: 2025 review albums | Playlist archive | Doc and Beeso's 2025 mixtapesThe database: All our review albums and year-end top 5 listsFind us on: Spotify Podcasts | Apple Podcasts | RSS feed for other appsSocials: Beeso on Bluesky | Doc on BlueSky | Pod Facebook | Pod email

Toby and Goobz review Bart VS The Space Mutants on NES!The guys discuss the history, story, game play, fun facts and rate this game on a 1-10 scale at the end then let you know if the game is still worth playing!--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Gameboree 2025 is coming up soon!November 1st - December 31st 2025!More info:https://www.badsecretmedia.com/gameboree--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Join our Discord group!https://discord.gg/84T8khT Support the show and order a t-shirt! https://www.teepublic.com/user/secretlevels Join our Patreon!https://www.patreon.com/badsecretmediaFollow Secret Levels on all social media! Twitter: https://twitter.com/secretlevelspod Instagram: https://instagram.com/secretlevelspod Facebook Group Page: https://www.facebook.com/groups/285925218891464/Toby's Live Streams on Twitch:https://www.twitch.tv/tobyvondoomMORE INFO:https://www.badsecretmedia.comGoobz's other podcast! The DeRailers Podcast Twitter: https://twitter.com/TheDeRailers Toby's other podcast! Secret Transmission Podcast Twitter: https://twitter.com/secrettranspod ----------------------------------------------------------- Intro and segment music: https://gregoriofranco.bandcamp.com/musicRage Meter Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kuBO6aDLM_4 Super Mario Brothers - Bluegrass Style: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bsrVEbpvU2U Support the show

Sometimes an episode is such a longtime coming that the enthusiasm from our hosts is palpable! Such is the case with this episode about The Simpsons, a TV show that pervaded Marcelle's childhood due in part to...you guessed it... syndication! In this episode, Marcelle reminds the audience how television worked before streaming and the nature of syndication. Together, she and Hannah think through the influence of The Simpsons' first 300 episodes between 1997 and 2003 (Marcelle's teen years). They explore the attractive quality of the sitcom as a genre, the reproducibility of Bart Simpson (and others) as an icon, and the show's criticism of and self-aware complicity in capitalism and consumerism. This episode is for The Simpsons NERDS and casual viewers alike. Happy listening.***To learn more about Material Girls, head to our Instagram at instagram.com/ohwitchplease! Or check out our website ohwitchplease.ca. We'll be back next week with a Material Concerns episode, but until then, go check out all the other content we have on our Patreon at Patreon.com/ohwitchplease! Patreon is how we produce the show and pay our team! Thanks again to all of you who have already made the leap to join us there!***Material Girls is a show that makes sense of the zeitgeist through materialist critique* and critical theory! Each episode looks at a unique object of study (something popular now or from back in the day) and over the course of three distinct segments, Hannah and Marcelle apply their academic expertise to the topic at hand.*Materialist Critique is, at its simplest possible level, a form of cultural critique – that is, scholarly engagement with a cultural text of some kind – that is interested in modes of production, moments of reception, and the historical and ideological contexts for both. Materialist critique is interested in the question of why a particular cultural work or practice emerged at a particular moment. Music Credits:“Shopping Mall”: by Jay Arner and Jessica Delisle ©2020Used by permission. All rights reserved. As recorded by Auto Syndicate on the album “Bongo Dance”. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Sometimes an episode is such a longtime coming that the enthusiasm from our hosts is palpable! Such is the case with this episode about The Simpsons, a TV show that pervaded Marcelle's childhood due in part to...you guessed it... syndication! In this episode, Marcelle reminds the audience how television worked before streaming and the nature of syndication. Together, she and Hannah think through the influence of The Simpsons' first 300 episodes between 1997 and 2003 (Marcelle's teen years). They explore the attractive quality of the sitcom as a genre, the reproducibility of Bart Simpson (and others) as an icon, and the show's criticism of and self-aware complicity in capitalism and consumerism. This episode is for The Simpsons NERDS and casual viewers alike. Happy listening.***To learn more about Material Girls, head to our Instagram at instagram.com/ohwitchplease! Or check out our website ohwitchplease.ca. We'll be back next week with a Material Concerns episode, but until then, go check out all the other content we have on our Patreon at Patreon.com/ohwitchplease! Patreon is how we produce the show and pay our team! Thanks again to all of you who have already made the leap to join us there!***Material Girls is a show that makes sense of the zeitgeist through materialist critique* and critical theory! Each episode looks at a unique object of study (something popular now or from back in the day) and over the course of three distinct segments, Hannah and Marcelle apply their academic expertise to the topic at hand.*Materialist Critique is, at its simplest possible level, a form of cultural critique – that is, scholarly engagement with a cultural text of some kind – that is interested in modes of production, moments of reception, and the historical and ideological contexts for both. Materialist critique is interested in the question of why a particular cultural work or practice emerged at a particular moment. Music Credits:“Shopping Mall”: by Jay Arner and Jessica Delisle ©2020Used by permission. All rights reserved. As recorded by Auto Syndicate on the album “Bongo Dance”. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Simpsons fans —THE VAULT IS OPEN!  I'm Nancy Cartwright, the voice of Bart Simpson for 35+ years, and I'm finally taking you inside Springfield. Simpsons Declassified is your all-access pass to the world's most iconic, animated  series.   Each week, we crack open wild predictions, eerie coincidences and fan conspiracies and stories  from 36 seasons (that's 800+ episodes!) behind-the-scenes with writers, directors, the cast and  celebrity superfans, PLUS…Simpsons-themed games— play along and test your Springfield IQ.   Hear exclusive stories from our guests who were there! Perhaps some scenes that almost never  aired, the jokes that died, the ones that lived and the moments that still shock me at the mic.  Produced and showrun by Monica Gil-Rodriguez. From Audacy Podcasts and CRE84U  Entertainment. Follow now to get new episodes first — and drop your wildest Simpsons' theory in a review for  a chance to be featured on our uniquely unique podcast, Simpsons Declassified. To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Simpsons fans —THE VAULT IS OPEN!  I'm Nancy Cartwright, the voice of Bart Simpson for 35+ years, and I'm finally taking you inside Springfield. Simpsons Declassified is your all-access pass to the world's most iconic, animated  series.   Each week, we crack open wild predictions, eerie coincidences and fan conspiracies and stories  from 36 seasons (that's 800+ episodes!) behind-the-scenes with writers, directors, the cast and  celebrity superfans, PLUS…Simpsons-themed games— play along and test your Springfield IQ.   Hear exclusive stories from our guests who were there! Perhaps some scenes that almost never  aired, the jokes that died, the ones that lived and the moments that still shock me at the mic.  Produced and showrun by Monica Gil-Rodriguez. From Audacy Podcasts and CRE84U  Entertainment. Follow now to get new episodes first — and drop your wildest Simpsons' theory in a review for  a chance to be featured on our uniquely unique podcast, Simpsons Declassified. To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Simpsons fans —THE VAULT IS OPEN!  I'm Nancy Cartwright, the voice of Bart Simpson for 35+ years, and I'm finally taking you inside Springfield. Simpsons Declassified is your all-access pass to the world's most iconic, animated  series.   Each week, we crack open wild predictions, eerie coincidences and fan conspiracies and stories  from 36 seasons (that's 800+ episodes!) behind-the-scenes with writers, directors, the cast and  celebrity superfans, PLUS…Simpsons-themed games— play along and test your Springfield IQ.   Hear exclusive stories from our guests who were there! Perhaps some scenes that almost never  aired, the jokes that died, the ones that lived and the moments that still shock me at the mic.  Produced and showrun by Monica Gil-Rodriguez. From Audacy Podcasts and CRE84U  Entertainment. Follow now to get new episodes first — and drop your wildest Simpsons' theory in a review for  a chance to be featured on our uniquely unique podcast, Simpsons Declassified. To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Simpsons fans —THE VAULT IS OPEN!  I'm Nancy Cartwright, the voice of Bart Simpson for 35+ years, and I'm finally taking you inside Springfield. Simpsons Declassified is your all-access pass to the world's most iconic, animated  series.   Each week, we crack open wild predictions, eerie coincidences and fan conspiracies and stories  from 36 seasons (that's 800+ episodes!) behind-the-scenes with writers, directors, the cast and  celebrity superfans, PLUS…Simpsons-themed games— play along and test your Springfield IQ.   Hear exclusive stories from our guests who were there! Perhaps some scenes that almost never  aired, the jokes that died, the ones that lived and the moments that still shock me at the mic.  Produced and showrun by Monica Gil-Rodriguez. From Audacy Podcasts and CRE84U  Entertainment. Follow now to get new episodes first — and drop your wildest Simpsons' theory in a review for  a chance to be featured on our uniquely unique podcast, Simpsons Declassified. To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Simpsons fans —THE VAULT IS OPEN!  I'm Nancy Cartwright, the voice of Bart Simpson for 35+ years, and I'm finally taking you inside Springfield. Simpsons Declassified is your all-access pass to the world's most iconic, animated  series.   Each week, we crack open wild predictions, eerie coincidences and fan conspiracies and stories  from 36 seasons (that's 800+ episodes!) behind-the-scenes with writers, directors, the cast and  celebrity superfans, PLUS…Simpsons-themed games— play along and test your Springfield IQ.   Hear exclusive stories from our guests who were there! Perhaps some scenes that almost never  aired, the jokes that died, the ones that lived and the moments that still shock me at the mic.  Produced and showrun by Monica Gil-Rodriguez. From Audacy Podcasts and CRE84U  Entertainment. Follow now to get new episodes first — and drop your wildest Simpsons' theory in a review for  a chance to be featured on our uniquely unique podcast, Simpsons Declassified. To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Simpsons fans —THE VAULT IS OPEN! I'm Nancy Cartwright, the voice of Bart Simpson for 35+ years, and I'm finally taking you inside Springfield. Simpsons Declassified is your all-access pass to the world's most iconic, animated series. Each week, we crack open wild predictions, eerie coincidences and fan conspiracies and stories from 36 seasons (that's 800+ episodes!) behind-the-scenes with writers, directors, the cast and celebrity superfans, PLUS…Simpsons-themed games— play along and test your Springfield IQ. Hear exclusive stories from our guests who were there! Perhaps some scenes that almost never aired, the jokes that died, the ones that lived and the moments that still shock me at the mic. Produced and showrun by Monica Gil-Rodriguez. From Audacy Podcasts and CRE84U Entertainment. Follow now to get new episodes first — and drop your wildest Simpsons' theory in a review for a chance to be featured on our uniquely unique podcast, Simpsons Declassified. To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Simpsons fans —THE VAULT IS OPEN!  I'm Nancy Cartwright, the voice of Bart Simpson for 35+ years, and I'm finally taking you inside Springfield. Simpsons Declassified is your all-access pass to the world's most iconic, animated series.   Each week, we crack open wild predictions, eerie coincidences and fan conspiracies and stories from 36 seasons (that's 800+ episodes!) behind-the-scenes with writers, directors, the cast and celebrity superfans, PLUS…Simpsons-themed games— play along and test your Springfield IQ.   Hear exclusive stories from our guests who were there! Perhaps some scenes that almost never  aired, the jokes that died, the ones that lived and the moments that still shock me at the mic.  Produced and showrun by Monica Gil-Rodriguez. From Audacy Podcasts and CRE84U Entertainment. Follow now to get new episodes first — and drop your wildest Simpsons' theory in a review for a chance to be featured on our uniquely unique podcast, Simpsons Declassified. To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Simpsons fans —THE VAULT IS OPEN!  I'm Nancy Cartwright, the voice of Bart Simpson for 35+ years, and I'm finally taking you inside Springfield. Simpsons Declassified is your all-access pass to the world's most iconic, animated  series.   Each week, we crack open wild predictions, eerie coincidences and fan conspiracies and stories  from 36 seasons (that's 800+ episodes!) behind-the-scenes with writers, directors, the cast and  celebrity superfans, PLUS…Simpsons-themed games— play along and test your Springfield IQ.   Hear exclusive stories from our guests who were there! Perhaps some scenes that almost never  aired, the jokes that died, the ones that lived and the moments that still shock me at the mic.  Produced and showrun by Monica Gil-Rodriguez. From Audacy Podcasts and CRE84U  Entertainment. Follow now to get new episodes first — and drop your wildest Simpsons' theory in a review for  a chance to be featured on our uniquely unique podcast, Simpsons Declassified. To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Simpsons fans —THE VAULT IS OPEN!  I'm Nancy Cartwright, the voice of Bart Simpson for 35+ years, and I'm finally taking you inside Springfield. Simpsons Declassified is your all-access pass to the world's most iconic, animated  series.   Each week, we crack open wild predictions, eerie coincidences and fan conspiracies and stories  from 36 seasons (that's 800+ episodes!) behind-the-scenes with writers, directors, the cast and  celebrity superfans, PLUS…Simpsons-themed games— play along and test your Springfield IQ.   Hear exclusive stories from our guests who were there! Perhaps some scenes that almost never  aired, the jokes that died, the ones that lived and the moments that still shock me at the mic.  Produced and showrun by Monica Gil-Rodriguez. From Audacy Podcasts and CRE84U  Entertainment. Follow now to get new episodes first — and drop your wildest Simpsons' theory in a review for  a chance to be featured on our uniquely unique podcast, Simpsons Declassified. To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Simpsons fans —THE VAULT IS OPEN!  I'm Nancy Cartwright, the voice of Bart Simpson for 35+ years, and I'm finally taking you inside Springfield. Simpsons Declassified is your all-access pass to the world's most iconic, animated  series.   Each week, we crack open wild predictions, eerie coincidences and fan conspiracies and stories  from 36 seasons (that's 800+ episodes!) behind-the-scenes with writers, directors, the cast and  celebrity superfans, PLUS…Simpsons-themed games— play along and test your Springfield IQ.   Hear exclusive stories from our guests who were there! Perhaps some scenes that almost never  aired, the jokes that died, the ones that lived and the moments that still shock me at the mic.  Produced and showrun by Monica Gil-Rodriguez. From Audacy Podcasts and CRE84U  Entertainment. Follow now to get new episodes first — and drop your wildest Simpsons' theory in a review for  a chance to be featured on our uniquely unique podcast, Simpsons Declassified. To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Simpsons fans —THE VAULT IS OPEN! I'm Nancy Cartwright, the voice of Bart Simpson for 35+ years, and I'm finally taking you inside Springfield. Simpsons Declassified is your all-access pass to the world's most iconic, animated series. Each week, we crack open wild predictions, eerie coincidences and fan conspiracies and stories from 36 seasons (that's 800+ episodes!) behind-the-scenes with writers, directors, the cast and celebrity superfans, PLUS…Simpsons-themed games— play along and test your Springfield IQ. Hear exclusive stories from our guests who were there! Perhaps some scenes that almost never aired, the jokes that died, the ones that lived and the moments that still shock me at the mic. Produced and showrun by Monica Gil-Rodriguez. From Audacy Podcasts and CRE84U Entertainment. Follow now to get new episodes first — and drop your wildest Simpsons' theory in a review for a chance to be featured on our uniquely unique podcast, Simpsons Declassified. To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Simpsons fans —THE VAULT IS OPEN!  I'm Nancy Cartwright, the voice of Bart Simpson for 35+ years, and I'm finally taking you inside Springfield. Simpsons Declassified is your all-access pass to the world's most iconic, animated  series.   Each week, we crack open wild predictions, eerie coincidences and fan conspiracies and stories  from 36 seasons (that's 800+ episodes!) behind-the-scenes with writers, directors, the cast and  celebrity superfans, PLUS…Simpsons-themed games— play along and test your Springfield IQ.   Hear exclusive stories from our guests who were there! Perhaps some scenes that almost never  aired, the jokes that died, the ones that lived and the moments that still shock me at the mic.  Produced and showrun by Monica Gil-Rodriguez. From Audacy Podcasts and CRE84U  Entertainment. Follow now to get new episodes first — and drop your wildest Simpsons' theory in a review for  a chance to be featured on our uniquely unique podcast, Simpsons Declassified. To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Simpsons fans —THE VAULT IS OPEN!  I'm Nancy Cartwright, the voice of Bart Simpson for 35+ years, and I'm finally taking you inside Springfield. Simpsons Declassified is your all-access pass to the world's most iconic, animated  series.   Each week, we crack open wild predictions, eerie coincidences and fan conspiracies and stories  from 36 seasons (that's 800+ episodes!) behind-the-scenes with writers, directors, the cast and  celebrity superfans, PLUS…Simpsons-themed games— play along and test your Springfield IQ.   Hear exclusive stories from our guests who were there! Perhaps some scenes that almost never  aired, the jokes that died, the ones that lived and the moments that still shock me at the mic.  Produced and showrun by Monica Gil-Rodriguez. From Audacy Podcasts and CRE84U  Entertainment. Follow now to get new episodes first — and drop your wildest Simpsons' theory in a review for  a chance to be featured on our uniquely unique podcast, Simpsons Declassified. To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Simpsons fans —THE VAULT IS OPEN!  I'm Nancy Cartwright, the voice of Bart Simpson for 35+ years, and I'm finally taking you inside Springfield. Simpsons Declassified is your all-access pass to the world's most iconic, animated  series.   Each week, we crack open wild predictions, eerie coincidences and fan conspiracies and stories  from 36 seasons (that's 800+ episodes!) behind-the-scenes with writers, directors, the cast and  celebrity superfans, PLUS…Simpsons-themed games— play along and test your Springfield IQ.   Hear exclusive stories from our guests who were there! Perhaps some scenes that almost never  aired, the jokes that died, the ones that lived and the moments that still shock me at the mic.  Produced and showrun by Monica Gil-Rodriguez. From Audacy Podcasts and CRE84U  Entertainment. Follow now to get new episodes first — and drop your wildest Simpsons' theory in a review for  a chance to be featured on our uniquely unique podcast, Simpsons Declassified. To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

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"Kids, you tried your best, and you failed miserably. The lesson is: never try." - Homer Simpson When a brush with the reaper inspires Mr. Burns to seek out an heir, he quickly finds one in the form of Bart Simpson. But as Bart grows more estranged from his family, we find the true test of a son's love comes down to whether or not he'll execute his own father for a Blockbuster Video gift certificate. Our guest: Eva Anderson Support this podcast and get over 200 ad-free bonus episodes by visiting Patreon.com/TalkingSimpsons and becoming a patron! And please follow the official Twitter, @TalkSimpsonsPod, not to mention Bluesky and Instagram!

Daily Dad Jokes (14 Aug 2025) The official Daily Dad Jokes Podcast electronic button now available on Amazon. The perfect gift for dad! Click here here to view! Email Newsletter: Looking for more dad joke humor to share? Then subscribe to our new weekly email newsletter. It's our weekly round-up of the best dad jokes, memes, and humor for you to enjoy. Spread the laughs, and groans, and sign up today! Click here to subscribe! Listen to the Daily Dad Jokes podcast here: https://dailydadjokespodcast.com/ or search "Daily Dad Jokes" in your podcast app. Interested in Business and Finance news? Then listen to our sister show: The Daily Business and Finance Show. Check out the website here or search "Daily Business and Finance Show" in your podcast app. Jokes sourced and curated from reddit.com/r/dadjokes. Joke credits: digiBeLow, ostapenkoed2007, Daohor, DatGayDangerNoodle, RoryJohn, AmethystMonkey, Barraken, med_iocre, bbob61169, DefenderOfNuts, ConfidentDuck1, PopeSpringsEternal, iShitSkittles, , iShitSkittles, 66Spintax, MaidMarian20, mattgoldey, iShitSkittles, HulaLuvsYou, Then_Manner190 Subscribe to this podcast via: iHeartMedia Spotify iTunes Google Podcasts YouTube Channel Social media: Instagram Facebook Twitter TikTok Discord Interested in advertising or sponsoring our show? Contact us at mediasales@klassicstudios.com Produced by Klassic Studios using AutoGen Podcast technology (http://klassicstudios.com/autogen-podcasts/) Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Daily Dad Jokes (14 Aug 2025) The official Daily Dad Jokes Podcast electronic button now available on Amazon. The perfect gift for dad! Click here here to view! Email Newsletter: Looking for more dad joke humor to share? Then subscribe to our new weekly email newsletter. It's our weekly round-up of the best dad jokes, memes, and humor for you to enjoy. Spread the laughs, and groans, and sign up today! Click here to subscribe! Listen to the Daily Dad Jokes podcast here: https://dailydadjokespodcast.com/ or search "Daily Dad Jokes" in your podcast app. Interested in Business and Finance news? Then listen to our sister show: The Daily Business and Finance Show. Check out the website here or search "Daily Business and Finance Show" in your podcast app. Jokes sourced and curated from reddit.com/r/dadjokes. Joke credits: digiBeLow, ostapenkoed2007, Daohor, DatGayDangerNoodle, RoryJohn, AmethystMonkey, Barraken, med_iocre, bbob61169, DefenderOfNuts, ConfidentDuck1, PopeSpringsEternal, iShitSkittles, , iShitSkittles, 66Spintax, MaidMarian20, mattgoldey, iShitSkittles, HulaLuvsYou, Then_Manner190 Subscribe to this podcast via: iHeartMedia Spotify iTunes Google Podcasts YouTube Channel Social media: Instagram Facebook Twitter TikTok Discord Interested in advertising or sponsoring our show? Contact us at mediasales@klassicstudios.com Produced by Klassic Studios using AutoGen Podcast technology (http://klassicstudios.com/autogen-podcasts/) Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

No episódio de hoje, Ribas e Leo vão dar um "rolêzinho" em Springfield para conferir as famosas profecias dos Simpsons! Este episódio é parte 1 de 2.=== ACESSE NOSSO CANAL NO YOUTUBE ===https://www.youtube.com/@paranormalfm=== LOJA DE CAMISAS OFICIAS PNFM ===https://reserva.ink/paranormalfm=== APOIE O PARANORMAL FM ===Quer se tornar um apoiador deste projeto e nos ajudar a continuar melhorando a qualidade, além e se tornar uma peça importante na viabilização muitos outros projetos em diferentes mídias? Entre no nosso Apoia-se e faça parte da família Paranormal FM!https://apoia.se/paranormalfm=== Siga Paranormal FM nas redes sociais ===Instagram, Twitter e Facebook: @ParanormalFMEmail: paranormalfmpodcast@gmail.comSiga e avalie o Paranormal FM nas plataformas de streaming!Apresentação: Fernando Ribas e Leonardo MarquesVinhetas e Formato: Fernando RibasEdição: Athelas Soluções em ÁudioPauta: Luana MachadoSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Les deux géants d'Hollywood accusent la plateforme d'avoir pillé leurs contenus pour entraîner leur intelligence artificielle générative. Un procès qui pourrait amener la justice américaine à encadrer les pratiques du secteur. Midjourney est un « puits sans fond de plagiat ». Dans leur argumentaire fourni à un tribunal de Los Angeles, Disney et Universal accusent sans détours la plateforme d'intelligence artificielle qui fut l'une des toutes premières à permettre au grand public de générer des images sur demande, d'avoir pillé leurs créations pour entraîner leur IA. Un procès qui promet d'être retentissant. D'abord par la taille des plaignants : à eux Disney, qui possède notamment les licences Star Wars et Marvel, et Comcast, la maison mère d'Universal et de ces milliers de films, de Jurassic Park à Fast and Furious qui ont façonné la pop culture américaine, pèsent plus de 300 milliards de dollars. Les avocats des deux mastodontes n'ont eu aucun mal à trouver des exemples d'images générées par Midjourney représentant Yoda, Shrek, Iron Man, Bart Simpson ou l'un des innombrables personnages sous licence Disney ou Universal. Un des grands patrons de Disney résume la situation : « Nous croyons dans le potentiel de l'IA, mais le piratage reste du piratage même quand il est réalisé par une intelligence artificielle. » « Fair use » ou « piratage » ? En s'attaquant à Midjourney, les studios posent la question du cadre juridique de l'IA. Ses défenseurs parlent de « fair use », « d'usage raisonnable » en français, une exception au droit d'auteur aux États-Unis qui permet de citer une œuvre en utilisant un court extrait dans une vidéo, par exemple. Comme l'administration Trump a refusé de légiférer au niveau fédéral pour « ne pas entraver l'avance technologique des États-Unis », le secteur évolue dans le flou. Les grands patrons du secteur ont d'ailleurs largement soutenu Donald Trump lors de la dernière élection, justement dans l'espoir de continuer à évoluer sans garde-fou susceptible de freiner leur avancée. Avec ce procès, la justice pourrait être amenée à cadrer les choses et à forcer les entreprises du secteur à payer les détenteurs des droits des millions de contenus en ligne que ces entreprises ont utilisés pour entraîner leurs IA. L'IA, déjà une réalité à Hollywood Paradoxalement, les grands studios de cinéma n'ont pas attendu pour se tourner vers les outils d'intelligence artificielle, y voyant une source alléchante d'économie. Il peut être tentant en effet de recourir à ces outils pour générer des effets spéciaux à moindre coût ou changer une ligne de dialogue en post-production, sans avoir à retourner une scène entière. Il a fallu plusieurs grèves des scénaristes et des comédiens pour freiner les ambitions des moguls de Hollywood qui rêvaient à haute voix de se passer de plumes et d'acteurs pour leurs productions. C'est ce qui explique sans doute la relative indulgence des grands studios jusqu'ici. Peut-être ont-ils senti le vent tourner quand il y a quelques mois a circulé sur Internet un court métrage Star Wars d'une dizaine de minutes entièrement réalisé sur IA par un fan, évidemment sans l'autorisation de Disney. Une production d'une qualité médiocre, mais dont certains plans pourraient tromper un public non averti. Ce qui pose la question : combien d'années (ou de mois) avant que n'importe quel internaute un tant soit peu dégourdi ne puisse produire de chez lui sa version d'une œuvre sous licence ? Et les grands studios de cinéma ne sont pas les seuls concernés, la situation terrifie les plus petits artistes dont les œuvres ont été pillées sans vergogne et qui n'ont pas, eux, les moyens de se défendre. L'IA de Google fait chuter les visites sur les sites des médias américains On peut aussi parler de la presse et des médias qui de plus en plus proposent à leurs lecteurs des résumés de leurs articles rédigés par l'IA. Problème : aux États-Unis, Google propose désormais un résumé des différents articles disponibles sur un sujet directement sur sa page d'accueil. Résultat : plus besoin de cliquer et les différents sites d'informations ont vu leur trafic – et les revenus publicitaires qui allaient avec – s'effondrer. Alors que c'est toujours leur contenu et leur travail qui sert de base à l'IA de Google. Bref, le piratage reste du piratage.

On today’s show: Is Ben going to retire the iconic Bart Simpson bag? Why Megan got hardcore judged by other mothers... Real life manifesting stories that worked! Ben's daughter brings up his past trauma... The best hack to get rid of a migraine Why Megan has a d*ck cup! Instagram: @THEHITSBREAKFAST Facebook: The Hits Breakfast with Jono, Ben & MeganSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

P1 Bojangles checks in, good since we haven't heard form him in awhile Why was Mattman wearing so many racist Bart Simpson shirts when he was growing up? Open Phones continues with Anonymous, who's ex paid her car off and she wants to know what his real motive was

Episode 77: Nestle in and get ready for another bedtime story. This one is, admittedly, not the best for bedtime... But as Bart Simpson would say, "Don't have a cow, man."

In this episode of Ear and Loathing, your hosts Aaron, Damon and George (The Gitmo Bros) talk about a sweater with brown buttons, George's background check, two twinks massaging your back, and the Monster Mash is a quality jam. In the Torture Chamber segment, Damon and Aaron compete for meaningless points by making George listen to his most hated music. Will George survive the Torture Chamber long enough to play one of his favorite songs? Tune in and find out! Songs featured in this episode: "Ms. Jackson" (Outkast), "America, Why I Love Her" (John Wayne), "Do the Bartman" (Bart Simpson)

In this episode Jordan James and Simon Scott chat about one of the worlds most famous and loved tv shows, the Simpsons. Why do we relate to this cartoon family so much and how does the show serve as a medium to explain and represent Autism and ADHD people? Plus we discuss why the titular family aren't the only autistic-coded characters in Springfield who reflect and resonate with the experiences of neurodivergent audiences.Here's what we cover in this episode:Through character analysis, particularly of Bart Simpson, we delve into the neurodivergent traits of Bart Simpson, exploring how his character could reflect the experiences of the show's creators.How Ralph and Martin could be viewed as 'high and low functioning' characters yet we relate to both of them!We discuss the complexities of Bart's intelligence and struggles with traditional education, as well as the similarities between Bart and his father, Homer.The discussion also touches on Maggie's representation of nonverbal autism and the broader themes of mental health and family dynamics within The Simpsons.We discuss the complexities of autism representation in media, the significance of non-speaking individuals on tv, and the unique dynamics of characters like Maggie and Marge Simpson.SUPPORT US THROUGH OUR SPONSERS:Work with Ashley Bentley at Integrative Coaching, Breathwork & Hypnotherapy to break free from old patterns and start living with more clarity, confidence, and connection - https://bit.ly/ashleyndeGet an Autism and ADHD assessment in the UK with https://www.rtnmentalhealthsolutions.com/ Use the Discount Code RTN23 when you make your initial enquiry through the RTN website or the website portal.Follow NDE on social media:Instagram: @theneurodivergentexperiencepodFacebook: The Neurodivergent Experience & Jordan's Facebook pageYouTube: @TheNeurodivergentExperienceTikTok: @neurodivergentexperienceIf you have ever enjoyed any of these episodes, could we please ask that you consider leaving a short a review on Apple Podcasts or Spotify? It takes less than a minute and makes a huge difference in helping to spread the word about the show. Get bonus content on Patreon Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Manuel Suarez's story is one of growth, perseverance, and the power of taking action. As a child, he was obsessed with video games. Winning was everything to him, and he hated losing. He loved the challenge of mastering new games and becoming the best player. But as he grew older, Manuel realized that life was much more than video games. He wanted to win at something bigger—he wanted to succeed in business and create a better life for his family.When Manuel decided to step into the world of business, he didn't have it easy. At one point, his dad believed in him enough to give him $10,000 to help him get started. But, his dad told him, that was the only time he'd get financial help. He wouldn't give him another penny if things didn't work out. That moment pushed Manuel to take massive action, but things didn't go smoothly at first. In fact, Manuel hit a major setback when he declared public bankruptcy. But instead of letting that stop him, he used it as fuel to prove that he could succeed.He didn't give up, and his hard work began to pay off. He helped build Natural Slim, a company that helps people live healthier lives through proper nutrition and lifestyle changes. With smart decisions and a commitment to helping others, Manuel grew the business and found success. He focused on digital marketing, especially social media ads, to connect with more customers and grow his brand. His approach was always about more than just selling a product; it was about truly helping people.Manuel Suarez learned an important lesson on his journey to success: winning isn't just about knowing the right information—it's about applying that knowledge. Early on, he realized that if you're not succeeding, it doesn't mean you don't know enough; it simply means you haven't applied what you've learned enough times. This understanding changed everything for him. He took the lessons he learned from books, mentors, and his own experiences, and put them into action every day. Whether it was growing his business Natural Slim through smart digital marketing or writing and promoting his book, Manuel knew that success comes from doing, not just knowing. His story shows that if you're not where you want to be, it's just a sign you need to apply more of what you already know.But Manuel's journey didn't stop with building a successful business. He also wrote a book called, "Marketing Magic" to share the lessons he learned, and like everything else he did, he took massive action to get it into the hands of people. Today, Manuel is living proof of what's possible when you don't let failures define you. He's not only winning in business, but he's now surrounded by some of the brightest minds. He's had the chance to work with the famous voice actor of Bart Simpson and even collaborated with jazz legend Chick Corea. From declaring bankruptcy to being at the top of his game ethically, Manuel's story shows that no matter where you start, if you keep taking action and never give up, you can achieve amazing things.Manuel's journey is a powerful reminder that success isn't about waiting for the perfect time—it's about taking action, focusing on what truly matters, and pushing through challenges. By surrounding himself with the right people, always moving forward, and staying true to his goals, Manuel built a successful business and created a life full of happiness and purpose for his family. His story teaches us that with hard work, belief in yourself, and the willingness to take action, we can do more and have more if we put words into action.

In this episode, Jonathan Wier is joined by James and Cody for a hilarious and increasingly unhinged exploration of King of the Hill fan theories. It starts off sane but quickly descends into beautiful madness—what they call the King of the Hill conspiracy iceberg. The crew tackles questions like: Why did Luanne give up auto repair? (Possible diagnosis: drain damage.) Did Peggy suffer brain damage after a skydiving mishap? Did Cotton Hill fake his death and flee to Japan? Why does Bobby own a Bart Simpson doll if The Simpsons is just a TV show in that universe? And is Dale exterminating bugs as a lifelong vendetta against his dad? Along the way, they spiral into tangents about Rocky villains, microwave-sized shoes, the myth of Peggy's size 16.5 feet, and a serious debate over who's hotter on Modern Family. If you love King of the Hill, weird fan theories, and grown men bonding over animated sitcoms, this episode is pure comfort food with a propane aftertaste.

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Nothing has had a more profound effect on the English language than 'The Simpsons.' Chicago’s best morning radio show now has a podcast! Don’t forget to rate, review, and subscribe wherever you listen to podcasts and remember that the conversation always lives on the Q101 Facebook page. Brian & Kenzie are live every morning from 6a-10a on Q101. Subscribe to our channel HERE: https://www.youtube.com/@Q101 Like Q101 on Facebook HERE: https://www.facebook.com/q101chicago Follow Q101 on Twitter HERE: https://twitter.com/Q101Chicago Follow Q101 on Instagram HERE: https://www.instagram.com/q101chicago/?hl=en Follow Q101 on TikTok HERE: https://www.tiktok.com/@q101chicago?lang=enSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

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****Guys may or may not have merch, go to The Guysery and check out our limited drop of a hoodie, a hat, and a long sleeve t shirt, only 200 of each on sale wednesday at 3:00 EST (or at noon EST for patrons)***** The Simpsons is a cartoon on the Fox network. We had our friends Bob Mackey and Henry Gilbert from Talking Simpsons to talk about them. Why is Lisa so mean to Bart? What do AI bots think of the Simpsons Movie? Why was my neighbor so mad at me all of the time? There is much more Chris at twitter.com/thecjs and of course https://www.patreon.com/notevenashow And for more Guys content, streams and SHOCKTOBER: a deep dive into shock jocks you can click patreon.com/guyspodcast twitter.com/murderxbryan and  https://bsky.app/profile/murderxbryan.bsky.social  Guys is on Instagram! https://www.instagram.com/guys.pod Guys has a Post Office Box now! PO Box 10769 Columbus Ohio 43201