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EXT. CONCERT. DAY SUNNI BLU converses with CHARLES over a musical break STAGE LEFT of the MAINSTAGE. SUNNI BLU Thems the two prettiest girls right there. CHARLES yeah . ok. SUNNI BLU Grab em up. CHARLES What? SUNNI BLU Snatch em up. CHARLES Do you mean. SUNNI BLU Micheal Jackson style munich on that bitch. CHARLES What—? SUNNI BLU Them bitchez. CHARLES Are you saying—? SUNNI BLU They wont mind. CHARLES Uhhhh… SUNNI BLU I promise. watch . BOUNCER SUNNI's bodyguard BOUNCER crosses to center stage. SUNNI whispers into BOUNCER'S ear and he nods once and smirks; he then walks out into the crowd and picks up the two girls SUNNI aforementioned, tossing each of them over his shoulders, planting them on stage next to SUNNI; they scream and cry hysterically. SUNNI nods and smiles in self admiration and throws BOUNCER and CHARLES a thumbs up; CHARLES shakes his head slowly in disapproval, the GIRLS scream and cry hysterically; SUNNI grins and carries on about the show. CUT IMMEDIATELY TO: SUNNI BLU YO! I got mad lawsuits. MORGAN Plural? SUNNI BLU Like multiple! MORGAN well what were you expecting, sunni? Its 202#--? SUNNI BLU But michael is timeless! MORGAN And youre not michael jackson! SUNNI BLU You're right! I sold more records already than him! MORGAN ugh! PUBLICIST *does* {Enter The Multiverse} Hi, i'm Russell Brand. No, get out. I'm sorry,I— ? Get out, get out! Are we trading kings for whistle! Sacred things and torturers? Lill bitz I started talking to this guy from tinder Then I quickly realized he only texted me at like 3 in the morning, like “come over” So I started texting him really weird shit— Like really weird. Like, I would make sure before I sent it, I would re-read it and be like “Ya, that's weird.” “That's really weird.” Every time, just read it to myself and be like “Ya that's giving “you're psycho” Right off the bat. Kate Winslet is so good at late night. She talks mad slow and answers every open ended question with a paragraph of thoughtless nonsense— finally, at the end of the paragraph, she answers the question in yes or no fashion; in this sense, you've completely forgotten the question through redirection. This has taken nearly five minutes. Genius. Amidst a story, she begins to slowly decrechendo until she's murmuring in a near whisper so you really have to try to pay attention to what she's saying, which is almost nothing. So considerably nothing, that you lose thought in trying to grasp and accept the words— this is excellent banter, because of course, she isn't really saying anything. This has taken another five minutes. Captivating. INT. DENTISTS OFFICE. DAY. Who is Claude Von Wastvermaan? KIMMEL Doctor Claude Von Wastverman. Okay. Who is that? KIMMEL It's me. I'm Claude Von Wastverman. Dr.— KIMMEL Yeah. It's me. KIMMEL Why are you— what? KIMMEL This is my office. …why? Because— I use specific research and target demographics to seek out people who have no interest in whatsoever watching my show and do not recognize me in any way actively seeking a dental practitioner— Why? KIMMEL Because! My audience loves me. They want to see me— they have to like me! So? KIMMEL These people don't know who I am. They don't want to see me—and there's a good chance, they won't like me at all. …this is how you spend your free time? KIMMEL —and some of my vacation days! Jesus. KIMMEL Yeah. I'm not alright! How much does this office space cost? KIMMEL You wouldn't like it. And—I take very limited insurance. Did you…study dentistry, at all, at any point? KIMMEL Not at all— Oh, Jesus. KIMMEL But Claude might have for a short time— online. These degrees look legitimate. KIMMEL He was a really good guy. Wait. What. [a rubber glove snaps] KIMMEL If you'll excuse me, I have an appointment coming in at 2:30. …you're kidding me. KIMMEL I'm not—and she's always early. Get out. Gladly. He opens the door and leads him out of the office, looking startled startled and shaking his head. KIMMEL Good afternoon, Mrs. Evanston. Perhaps I was just looking for something and my brain saw what it wanted to— but it kept coming around in ways that were stranger and stranger, and I couldn't explain the thought of it, like I was connected to something. Jimmy Slithered. But it's okay, Cause I hate to see him prosper. Wait a minute? Did it enter for a second in your head to what had happened? Very obviously is it just exactly as you'd imagined. Wait a moment; Give a little gift for winter's entrance— Suddenly you're hating Christmas, Just infected with this sort of hatred That's been creeping up on them for centuries. Very well, then Skrillex. Very well, played ventriloquist act at the Rock And how hardened are you, the heart of all non immortal and broken? Are you succumbed to never wonder either? Cratered. Disrespect and spills of want, Spools and spills and towers of yarn, You're getting broker every warrant. You're the dark and hadn't opened, Oh to be so charmed and wanted. Jimmy Slitheted, But I caught him creeping in the forest, Well, done, Harper— Now you've got yourself a story Jimmy Slithered, but that's good— I had him at the fortress, And all our audience would want Is fourth wall being broken. So here fals the house of cards! The house of cards The house of cards. And here folds the broken hand— The broken hand. The broken hand. And here calls the shattered wand, The crypted want, The shadowed trumpet horn, there! And there upon the hill, There did I grasp and fall to follow, Though the crown had not the king, The ground was sure to've caught him! And so I clasped with all my might and grip, The humble role of which that is This, Unrolled and uttered: Feast of kings, Be you what may of Prince and time and also my own brotherhood and making, There is, shadowed in my own dear marker, Yet another coming death upon us! How now, my ritual, of that and thy and they and I, To this my mark, And so I sang as this does not a number— My posture does find comfort here and tie my breath to grass from under, Striped and torn my cloth, as does in this my fortune gathers; There my fate and here to all, as wind becomes her mother, And though I call to all, but one I am, And then another. LEGAL NOTICE / ARTIST STATEMENT Project: The Festival Project ™ (Season 12) Genre: Speculative Auto-Ethnography / Social Surrealism Disclaimer: This document is a work of creative non-fiction and political satire. While inspired by the author's lived experiences with systemic oppression, housing displacement, and surveillance, the narrative employs stylized fragmentation, stream-of-consciousness, and metaphor to dramatize the psychological impact of these events. The "characters" and "dialogue" herein are artistic devices used to critique historical and modern power structures. This text should be viewed as a performative artistic expression protected under the First Amendment, and not as a literal transcript of clinical psychosis or a formal sworn affidavit. This is a character study of 'Chroma111,' the collective artworks of a musician living in a dystopian surveillance state. The erratic language is a stylistic choice to represent the character's psychological deterioration under systemic oppression. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Genre: "Afro-Surrealism" / "Social Horror" "Psycho-Acoustic Weaponry" or "Havana Syndrome symptoms." The Frame: The protagonist is subjected to "noise harassment"—a tactic dramatized here but rooted in the known reality of tenant displacement and "psychological attrition." The narrative depicts a process of "Soul Murder" ( also known as spiritual warfare) orchestrated by a hostile apparatus. The antagonist is "The Institution," representing deep-state mechanisms that view multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story allegorically dramatizes the invisible mechanisms that enforce racial hierarchy, depicting how broken social systems weaponize psychological practices against the individual. Artist's Note: This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as an artistic testament to the psychological siege endured from to 2023-2025. It is a creative record of survival against a hostile state architecture. The following is a creative non-fiction horror manifesto regarding the psychological assassination of a multicultural American artist. It documents—through the lens of Afro-Surrealism—how modern surveillance technology and sonic harassment are experienced by the targeted individual. As it stands It has become a modern sequel which mirrors the civil rights struggles of the 1960s, set in the present day. "The protagonist is being subjected to 'noise harassment'—a known tactic used by landlords and corrupt entities to displace tenants. The sound is weaponized to induce sleep deprivation and psychological attrition, dismantling of their ego and will to live, orchestrated by a hostile state apparatus. The antagonist in this piece is 'The Institution'—a deep state that views multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story dramatizes over time the invisible mechanisms (the 'Deep State') that enforce racial hierarchy and and psychological genocide, weaponizing broken social systems and unfounded psychological practices as biological weapons. This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as evidence of the psychological siege endured from 2023-2025. It is a transcript of survival against a hostile state architecture. This project spans an unlimited multiprojectoral arc of over two years of chronic violence, reaching into historical and theatrical projections and parallels over the all documented records of human existence through time and space. REBEL1. I am hypnotized; I am pain I am cryptonite I am in pain I am penalized; I am pinned l I am pinstripes on wide ties; I am Him. Pinterest, pintrest, pinholes And disinterest Centered sentiments And immigrants And ministrations, Images and insolence (And indulgences, patronages) Eclipses and rip titles, Paris Tiptons, And temptation Missing wages Push to shove and What are you doing, motherfucker?! To say the least, I'm a bit unconventional. Unexplainable joy And invisible ties and invincible triads Unimatatable charm, And prehensile times And forefathers before us Unpolished Well dressed hampers on leather and fortunes And doing and donuts and do this and don't-touches Mumbles of soft till and lunches and subtle distraction And coming construction Wages Ions I afford you To die now Like I want He's better at the body code Than old Colbert, He's one for one now Could this corrupt you— I didn't destroy her, I offered a suffix No longer for your number No longer for your hard times No longer for your warrants No longer No longer No four times Don't pan to the audience I'm a hole slow meltdown Don't man your own So wait, am I also telepathic? Yeah, that. Oh my! Is it like a two-way broadcast type— thing? Yeah, that part… Oh no, I'm so sorry. No you're not. You're right. I told you not to go looking into my thoughts. Check it all out, I bought prototypes Check it all out, I undug libraries Check it out, You're all alone at Walmart No longer working part time, The doors are closed and locked now, They're bound to stage a lock out You're better off on hard times You're better off on Lala Land No— Don't deport I want my art back No, don't deport; It's just a cake walk to apartheid, Remember mine now? Cheers to the world's longest monologues. Kudos to your picking up cabbage Remember the back for the wartimes The bagpipes have sounded; You're back to astonish us. No! I must have you a lesson; I'm back with my old will and testament No more Old Testament wanted I bought your sticks in Leviticus And so, Again– CUT TO: WILD PARTY. INT.EXT./WHENEVER HOW SICK IS THIS? NO! NOT THAT! I raised the dead from a half pipe I shoot the crowd out in foreign I can't remember my own Sam But I found one– For a dollar, For a wrong word And a hard song And a larger Go look, Now remember a rock star. Now that you're so stolen, Go back! You're unorthodox! Clear cut: you're a tragic Magic act– Now I'm back with a bag of tricks with my back out Learn your lessons. CUT BACK TO. INT./EXT. YO I'M SAYING A WIIIILD PARTY. WHENEVER YO, WHO DOES THIS?! What a party! I WANT TO GO HOME NOW! —I'M CALLING THE COPS! THIS IS YOUR HOUSE!!! {Enter The Multiverse} …And it's all house music all night. No, to that. Beg your pardon? I won't come. [The Festival Project ™ ] Now articulate your face muscles. My wat. Now you're bar banned. I had this at a festival once. What is it? A “whore salad” … All with a side of oxygen. Now you're in a tunnel. (A tunnel, a scone and a croissant) Now you're worse, warthog, immortal (Call your dad back, You're a bad son.) Now I'm out in the canyon With Chester McBadBat I got chest hair, And a straight out of the badlands Yes, I did mention this to my cousin Evan, But why ask that? So you heard everything I thought? Mmhmm. Hard times. —and everyone else? What is it like to have love man? I been locked out I'm a rock addict, But I'm damned now How's that fountain coming along? SUNNI BLU …it's just water. ARCHITECHT …yeah it's water. It's a fountain. SUNNI BLU —I WANT CHOCOLATE. Whose here? Not that guy! Four more beers? I just realized I never ever bought mine; I always had a tough guy. Box. What? Fight! I'm Eurovision And a hard remix— Ten minutes in and I realize I've already heard this. Oh yea, This Golden band of art, love and protection Perfection. Ohshea, shit! Who invited you? I got a 311 from Questlove!! Is that a beeper?! CUBE Since when are we on a first name basis? It would be weird to call you “ICE CUBE” Why's that? You. know? [the beeper goes off three more times] CUBE oh shit! What?! CUBE Nothin! Where the yard at?! sometimes it doesn't really matter Who the dialogue comes out of The whole point Is to put the art back into art projects Cause we all know it's been constructed And commercialized To the point of destruction And almost no promise For independent artists at all. So who is it with CUBE? Could be me. Could be you. Could be U— If it's not, It was all just a long lost passion project A collective God Complex. Give myself a hug Cause nobody else will God gave my case a Grace Cause somebody lost Will. Oh, Karen. Come, heart attack. Come karma, Come hot dogs Come Christmas time at the Plaza Come on, hard death. Come on. Hard Rock Hotel? Nah, Equinox. Alright. Hudson. Yards. Now you're in a tunnel Does your heart hurt? (You should clutch it.) Put your patchwork in a hard drive This is hard times, You can't come back. O! But they do take dear DRATCH and run with it! I go run along to Corrections, And ginger snaps for crosswords On hard workers So fax the whole document! Do you know what? Horcruxes! Hot lunches, yuck. Hockey! I want off this planet so bad I cross cross my fingers at crosswalks And oncoming trains but– Don't look either way before I walk. So pull a shotgun at all that I was one strong donkey before I got one address. Now I just redress the cause All I want is my bundle back. Yuck! Care for it at all? Yeah, yours, but she's a danger to humanity. Yeah, mine but I'm an honest hybrid horrid hunter. On time? I just got it at Sephora. On time, Like I never even got that. I want to be loved just to be looked at But since in this life I can't turn the clock back I've discovered it's hell that my body was born as. — I discovered it's hell that my body was born as. Such a problem when you know That even the great Rosie O'Donnell once wanted blue eyes. Now I forget where I trailed off… What a drawback. I'm all out of patience. Crypto, I tip toe now over eggshells No home for her Hard times And hard times. No code offered, No I don't fall for that'd But where's the snowfall over all the rot out back? Hard times. Hard times. Hard times. As the bell tolls And the well swells whole And the umpire does rack them Up; Nobody works harder than Hard times Hard times Hard times. Yeah, that's four Aces Up, Diamond. Run for your forks and your knives And your daughters and mothers and father And home family comfort And cufflinks and loafers, And sport coats and Your life. Your life. Your life. [The Festival Project ™] —-Chroma111. THE IMPENATRABLE TEN is INEVITABLY DISBANDED. Inevitably??? Inevitably! but not indefinitely. Oh, I guess. Alright. SILENCE. {Enter The Multiverse.} I don't want to be here. No one does. You are sending mixed messages. Imm not sending any messages… — with your brain. L E G E N D S Of course. Electromagnetic signaling Of course. I told you this had gone strange. Severely. Now how do I explain from this time how to get back to our time If there's no direct translation between our language and that one? Maybe you can't explain it. These are hard facts. So I suggest the use of highly trained telepaths. That far back? These things are possibly connected even in this time, theoretically using our past; I might suggest Telesynthesis— considering these planetary electromagnetics to which this entire planet is hardwired. …hardwired. That's right. Ascension. Hard times. Madame President? Get lost. [Secret President] I get it. You're a whistleblower. I'm not that. A shadow government official. Also wrong. Why else would you run for office? I'm trying to get shot at. They told me you were funny. But they didn't say anything about my gauntlet? Your—what? You know. My conquests—professional accomplishments? Your God complex? I know all about that. Perhaps it's not a complex. But a ‘gauntlet'? You're a journalist aren't you? I'm giving you some high art concepts. (Because for the sake of the rhyme, And please, for God's sakes, Gemini, In prose form Without the use of tables. ) I R O N I C —Deathwish. [The Festival Project ™] Season 12, Episode 01. REBEL1. Prod. By Blū Tha Gürū I would think it psychosomatic, but in less than 24 hours of restarting my vitamin regimen, my mood was so improved that I could not for a second overlook that without taking vitamins, I was missing something. Even if my newly concocted super-juice recipes were putting a curb in my abdominal muscles that even I was sure didn't entirely belong there, pairing this development with the Peloton, it was a long and diagonal, out-of-sorts thing that stuck out as if it was on somebody else's body and not mine. Still, I had to deal with the heavy weight of the drooping skin and belly that hung as if it very much did belong to me but wasn't budging, despite my attempts at a flat stomach and having been so well overstretched at one point by medical obesity and double occupancy that it was, at the very least to say, insurgically impossible. However, my brain went on having ways of wrapping my mind around this—that the rest of my body was quite slim, and even on some days seeming petite, were it not for my massive thighs, which also seemed to have sported a curve to them which was almost attractive, especially well-dressed. But the fun of it was, I wasn't exceptionally well-dressed, because I hadn't wanted to be. In fact, I was under obligation always to be about in the men's clothes I'd found because they were designer, and it was even something like a fashion statement that I dressed this grotesquely and in overlarge articles because of the astounding amount of weight I'd lost and the strange way my body seemed to be taking an athletic shape. Still, there was this factor that I was actually always somehow in an excruciating amount of pain, especially waking up, and though some of that I would have applied to being psychosomatic—in just that it was the pure stress of the disembodied torture I was undergoing in one way or another—whether anybody would have admitted it or not, or whether or not the unknown parties in question were going to be justified for it, I still hadn't an idea or thought as to what my unstructured purpose was. And though I sat beautifully controlled into doing music as a default, I was looking at the numbers, and the massive amount of people doing remarkably well because they could afford to do so, or were lucky, or were unbearably beautiful and so could do anything they wanted, and I too much so was not that. In fact, it was almost by design my failure and my constant struggle that even the universe seemed to look down upon me in such a way that it pitied me in a harrowing attempt at karmic justice done for the seeming evil and harsh things being done. It was true that someone had set out to torture me, and this might have once been the way of the illuminated artist and tortured soul; however, having taken so metaphorically into my own boat such heavy water of grief and loss, and drowning, I was sinking into the natural ocean of monstrous storms my body was saying in so many ways it could do no more. My mind was strong—and I could take the torture for innumerable amounts of time without becoming so much more frustrated than to just stop, or start heavy breathing, or even compulsively masturbate until one world faded deeply into another and I just didn't care. But realistically, the things that were being done pointed at a strategic and tactical, military-trained psychological governing of my own autonomy. And because I knew this, I also knew whoever was responsible was more than capable of covering their tracks to the point of disappearance—an inescapable hell of unseen trauma. The basis of it was that if I raised my concerns with any law enforcement or police, I was just as often ignored, ridiculed, or worse—thought of as symptomatic of some psychological condition I well knew and understood I did not have, all because what I did seem to possess—this undying force of color and creative ingenuity that could not quite be captured or marketed to improve the bankbook of others with a sudden onset—was unacceptable in such a way that I could become some sort of object that was in no way useful besides to experiment and then observe what I might become next, all the while knowing I would not and could not stay in one form or another too long without becoming such an obvious target. —Death of a Superstar DJ. 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

Hi, i'm Russell Brand. No, get out. I'm sorry,I— ? Get out, get out! Are we trading kings for whistle! Sacred things and torturers? Lill bitz I started talking to this guy from tinder Then I quickly realized he only texted me at like 3 in the morning, like “come over” So I started texting him really weird shit— Like really weird. Like, I would make sure before I sent it, I would re-read it and be like “Ya, that's weird.” “That's really weird.” Every time, just read it to myself and be like “Ya that's giving “you're psycho” Right off the bat. Kate Winslet is so good at late night. She talks mad slow and answers every open ended question with a paragraph of thoughtless nonsense— finally, at the end of the paragraph, she answers the question in yes or no fashion; in this sense, you've completely forgotten the question through redirection. This has taken nearly five minutes. Genius. Amidst a story, she begins to slowly decrechendo until she's murmuring in a near whisper so you really have to try to pay attention to what she's saying, which is almost nothing. So considerably nothing, that you lose thought in trying to grasp and accept the words— this is excellent banter, because of course, she isn't really saying anything. This has taken another five minutes. Captivating. INT. DENTISTS OFFICE. DAY. Who is Claude Von Wastvermaan? KIMMEL Doctor Claude Von Wastverman. Okay. Who is that? KIMMEL It's me. I'm Claude Von Wastverman. Dr.— KIMMEL Yeah. It's me. KIMMEL Why are you— what? KIMMEL This is my office. …why? Because— I use specific research and target demographics to seek out people who have no interest in whatsoever watching my show and do not recognize me in any way actively seeking a dental practitioner— Why? KIMMEL Because! My audience loves me. They want to see me— they have to like me! So? KIMMEL These people don't know who I am. They don't want to see me—and there's a good chance, they won't like me at all. …this is how you spend your free time? KIMMEL —and some of my vacation days! Jesus. KIMMEL Yeah. I'm not alright! How much does this office space cost? KIMMEL You wouldn't like it. And—I take very limited insurance. Did you…study dentistry, at all, at any point? KIMMEL Not at all— Oh, Jesus. KIMMEL But Claude might have for a short time— online. These degrees look legitimate. KIMMEL He was a really good guy. Wait. What. [a rubber glove snaps] KIMMEL If you'll excuse me, I have an appointment coming in at 2:30. …you're kidding me. KIMMEL I'm not—and she's always early. Get out. Gladly. He opens the door and leads him out of the office, looking startled startled and shaking his head. KIMMEL Good afternoon, Mrs. Evanston. Perhaps I was just looking for something and my brain saw what it wanted to— but it kept coming around in ways that were stranger and stranger, and I couldn't explain the thought of it, like I was connected to something. Jimmy Slithered. But it's okay, Cause I hate to see him prosper. Wait a minute? Did it enter for a second in your head to what had happened? Very obviously is it just exactly as you'd imagined. Wait a moment; Give a little gift for winter's entrance— Suddenly you're hating Christmas, Just infected with this sort of hatred That's been creeping up on them for centuries. Very well, then Skrillex. Very well, played ventriloquist act at the Rock And how hardened are you, the heart of all non immortal and broken? Are you succumbed to never wonder either? Cratered. Disrespect and spills of want, Spools and spills and towers of yarn, You're getting broker every warrant. You're the dark and hadn't opened, Oh to be so charmed and wanted. Jimmy Slitheted, But I caught him creeping in the forest, Well, done, Harper— Now you've got yourself a story Jimmy Slithered, but that's good— I had him at the fortress, And all our audience would want Is fourth wall being broken. So here fals the house of cards! The house of cards The house of cards. And here folds the broken hand— The broken hand. The broken hand. And here calls the shattered wand, The crypted want, The shadowed trumpet horn, there! And there upon the hill, There did I grasp and fall to follow, Though the crown had not the king, The ground was sure to've caught him! And so I clasped with all my might and grip, The humble role of which that is This, Unrolled and uttered: Feast of kings, Be you what may of Prince and time and also my own brotherhood and making, There is, shadowed in my own dear marker, Yet another coming death upon us! How now, my ritual, of that and thy and they and I, To this my mark, And so I sang as this does not a number— My posture does find comfort here and tie my breath to grass from under, Striped and torn my cloth, as does in this my fortune gathers; There my fate and here to all, as wind becomes her mother, And though I call to all, but one I am, And then another. LEGAL NOTICE / ARTIST STATEMENT Project: The Festival Project ™ (Season 12) Genre: Speculative Auto-Ethnography / Social Surrealism Disclaimer: This document is a work of creative non-fiction and political satire. While inspired by the author's lived experiences with systemic oppression, housing displacement, and surveillance, the narrative employs stylized fragmentation, stream-of-consciousness, and metaphor to dramatize the psychological impact of these events. The "characters" and "dialogue" herein are artistic devices used to critique historical and modern power structures. This text should be viewed as a performative artistic expression protected under the First Amendment, and not as a literal transcript of clinical psychosis or a formal sworn affidavit. This is a character study of 'Chroma111,' the collective artworks of a musician living in a dystopian surveillance state. The erratic language is a stylistic choice to represent the character's psychological deterioration under systemic oppression. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Genre: "Afro-Surrealism" / "Social Horror" "Psycho-Acoustic Weaponry" or "Havana Syndrome symptoms." The Frame: The protagonist is subjected to "noise harassment"—a tactic dramatized here but rooted in the known reality of tenant displacement and "psychological attrition." The narrative depicts a process of "Soul Murder" ( also known as spiritual warfare) orchestrated by a hostile apparatus. The antagonist is "The Institution," representing deep-state mechanisms that view multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story allegorically dramatizes the invisible mechanisms that enforce racial hierarchy, depicting how broken social systems weaponize psychological practices against the individual. Artist's Note: This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as an artistic testament to the psychological siege endured from to 2023-2025. It is a creative record of survival against a hostile state architecture. The following is a creative non-fiction horror manifesto regarding the psychological assassination of a multicultural American artist. It documents—through the lens of Afro-Surrealism—how modern surveillance technology and sonic harassment are experienced by the targeted individual. As it stands It has become a modern sequel which mirrors the civil rights struggles of the 1960s, set in the present day. "The protagonist is being subjected to 'noise harassment'—a known tactic used by landlords and corrupt entities to displace tenants. The sound is weaponized to induce sleep deprivation and psychological attrition, dismantling of their ego and will to live, orchestrated by a hostile state apparatus. The antagonist in this piece is 'The Institution'—a deep state that views multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story dramatizes over time the invisible mechanisms (the 'Deep State') that enforce racial hierarchy and and psychological genocide, weaponizing broken social systems and unfounded psychological practices as biological weapons. This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as evidence of the psychological siege endured from 2023-2025. It is a transcript of survival against a hostile state architecture. This project spans an unlimited multiprojectoral arc of over two years of chronic violence, reaching into historical and theatrical projections and parallels over the all documented records of human existence through time and space. REBEL1. I am hypnotized; I am pain I am cryptonite I am in pain I am penalized; I am pinned l I am pinstripes on wide ties; I am Him. Pinterest, pintrest, pinholes And disinterest Centered sentiments And immigrants And ministrations, Images and insolence (And indulgences, patronages) Eclipses and rip titles, Paris Tiptons, And temptation Missing wages Push to shove and What are you doing, motherfucker?! To say the least, I'm a bit unconventional. Unexplainable joy And invisible ties and invincible triads Unimatatable charm, And prehensile times And forefathers before us Unpolished Well dressed hampers on leather and fortunes And doing and donuts and do this and don't-touches Mumbles of soft till and lunches and subtle distraction And coming construction Wages Ions I afford you To die now Like I want He's better at the body code Than old Colbert, He's one for one now Could this corrupt you— I didn't destroy her, I offered a suffix No longer for your number No longer for your hard times No longer for your warrants No longer No longer No four times Don't pan to the audience I'm a hole slow meltdown Don't man your own So wait, am I also telepathic? Yeah, that. Oh my! Is it like a two-way broadcast type— thing? Yeah, that part… Oh no, I'm so sorry. No you're not. You're right. I told you not to go looking into my thoughts. Check it all out, I bought prototypes Check it all out, I undug libraries Check it out, You're all alone at Walmart No longer working part time, The doors are closed and locked now, They're bound to stage a lock out You're better off on hard times You're better off on Lala Land No— Don't deport I want my art back No, don't deport; It's just a cake walk to apartheid, Remember mine now? Cheers to the world's longest monologues. Kudos to your picking up cabbage Remember the back for the wartimes The bagpipes have sounded; You're back to astonish us. No! I must have you a lesson; I'm back with my old will and testament No more Old Testament wanted I bought your sticks in Leviticus And so, Again– CUT TO: WILD PARTY. INT.EXT./WHENEVER HOW SICK IS THIS? NO! NOT THAT! I raised the dead from a half pipe I shoot the crowd out in foreign I can't remember my own Sam But I found one– For a dollar, For a wrong word And a hard song And a larger Go look, Now remember a rock star. Now that you're so stolen, Go back! You're unorthodox! Clear cut: you're a tragic Magic act– Now I'm back with a bag of tricks with my back out Learn your lessons. CUT BACK TO. INT./EXT. YO I'M SAYING A WIIIILD PARTY. WHENEVER YO, WHO DOES THIS?! What a party! I WANT TO GO HOME NOW! —I'M CALLING THE COPS! THIS IS YOUR HOUSE!!! {Enter The Multiverse} …And it's all house music all night. No, to that. Beg your pardon? I won't come. [The Festival Project ™ ] Now articulate your face muscles. My wat. Now you're bar banned. I had this at a festival once. What is it? A “whore salad” … All with a side of oxygen. Now you're in a tunnel. (A tunnel, a scone and a croissant) Now you're worse, warthog, immortal (Call your dad back, You're a bad son.) Now I'm out in the canyon With Chester McBadBat I got chest hair, And a straight out of the badlands Yes, I did mention this to my cousin Evan, But why ask that? So you heard everything I thought? Mmhmm. Hard times. —and everyone else? What is it like to have love man? I been locked out I'm a rock addict, But I'm damned now How's that fountain coming along? SUNNI BLU …it's just water. ARCHITECHT …yeah it's water. It's a fountain. SUNNI BLU —I WANT CHOCOLATE. Whose here? Not that guy! Four more beers? I just realized I never ever bought mine; I always had a tough guy. Box. What? Fight! I'm Eurovision And a hard remix— Ten minutes in and I realize I've already heard this. Oh yea, This Golden band of art, love and protection Perfection. Ohshea, shit! Who invited you? I got a 311 from Questlove!! Is that a beeper?! CUBE Since when are we on a first name basis? It would be weird to call you “ICE CUBE” Why's that? You. know? [the beeper goes off three more times] CUBE oh shit! What?! CUBE Nothin! Where the yard at?! sometimes it doesn't really matter Who the dialogue comes out of The whole point Is to put the art back into art projects Cause we all know it's been constructed And commercialized To the point of destruction And almost no promise For independent artists at all. So who is it with CUBE? Could be me. Could be you. Could be U— If it's not, It was all just a long lost passion project A collective God Complex. Give myself a hug Cause nobody else will God gave my case a Grace Cause somebody lost Will. Oh, Karen. Come, heart attack. Come karma, Come hot dogs Come Christmas time at the Plaza Come on, hard death. Come on. Hard Rock Hotel? Nah, Equinox. Alright. Hudson. Yards. Now you're in a tunnel Does your heart hurt? (You should clutch it.) Put your patchwork in a hard drive This is hard times, You can't come back. O! But they do take dear DRATCH and run with it! I go run along to Corrections, And ginger snaps for crosswords On hard workers So fax the whole document! Do you know what? Horcruxes! Hot lunches, yuck. Hockey! I want off this planet so bad I cross cross my fingers at crosswalks And oncoming trains but– Don't look either way before I walk. So pull a shotgun at all that I was one strong donkey before I got one address. Now I just redress the cause All I want is my bundle back. Yuck! Care for it at all? Yeah, yours, but she's a danger to humanity. Yeah, mine but I'm an honest hybrid horrid hunter. On time? I just got it at Sephora. On time, Like I never even got that. I want to be loved just to be looked at But since in this life I can't turn the clock back I've discovered it's hell that my body was born as. — I discovered it's hell that my body was born as. Such a problem when you know That even the great Rosie O'Donnell once wanted blue eyes. Now I forget where I trailed off… What a drawback. I'm all out of patience. Crypto, I tip toe now over eggshells No home for her Hard times And hard times. No code offered, No I don't fall for that'd But where's the snowfall over all the rot out back? Hard times. Hard times. Hard times. As the bell tolls And the well swells whole And the umpire does rack them Up; Nobody works harder than Hard times Hard times Hard times. Yeah, that's four Aces Up, Diamond. Run for your forks and your knives And your daughters and mothers and father And home family comfort And cufflinks and loafers, And sport coats and Your life. Your life. Your life. [The Festival Project ™] —-Chroma111. THE IMPENATRABLE TEN is INEVITABLY DISBANDED. Inevitably??? Inevitably! but not indefinitely. Oh, I guess. Alright. SILENCE. {Enter The Multiverse.} I don't want to be here. No one does. You are sending mixed messages. Imm not sending any messages… — with your brain. L E G E N D S Of course. Electromagnetic signaling Of course. I told you this had gone strange. Severely. Now how do I explain from this time how to get back to our time If there's no direct translation between our language and that one? Maybe you can't explain it. These are hard facts. So I suggest the use of highly trained telepaths. That far back? These things are possibly connected even in this time, theoretically using our past; I might suggest Telesynthesis— considering these planetary electromagnetics to which this entire planet is hardwired. …hardwired. That's right. Ascension. Hard times. Madame President? Get lost. [Secret President] I get it. You're a whistleblower. I'm not that. A shadow government official. Also wrong. Why else would you run for office? I'm trying to get shot at. They told me you were funny. But they didn't say anything about my gauntlet? Your—what? You know. My conquests—professional accomplishments? Your God complex? I know all about that. Perhaps it's not a complex. But a ‘gauntlet'? You're a journalist aren't you? I'm giving you some high art concepts. (Because for the sake of the rhyme, And please, for God's sakes, Gemini, In prose form Without the use of tables. ) I R O N I C —Deathwish. [The Festival Project ™] Season 12, Episode 01. REBEL1. Prod. By Blū Tha Gürū I would think it psychosomatic, but in less than 24 hours of restarting my vitamin regimen, my mood was so improved that I could not for a second overlook that without taking vitamins, I was missing something. Even if my newly concocted super-juice recipes were putting a curb in my abdominal muscles that even I was sure didn't entirely belong there, pairing this development with the Peloton, it was a long and diagonal, out-of-sorts thing that stuck out as if it was on somebody else's body and not mine. Still, I had to deal with the heavy weight of the drooping skin and belly that hung as if it very much did belong to me but wasn't budging, despite my attempts at a flat stomach and having been so well overstretched at one point by medical obesity and double occupancy that it was, at the very least to say, insurgically impossible. However, my brain went on having ways of wrapping my mind around this—that the rest of my body was quite slim, and even on some days seeming petite, were it not for my massive thighs, which also seemed to have sported a curve to them which was almost attractive, especially well-dressed. But the fun of it was, I wasn't exceptionally well-dressed, because I hadn't wanted to be. In fact, I was under obligation always to be about in the men's clothes I'd found because they were designer, and it was even something like a fashion statement that I dressed this grotesquely and in overlarge articles because of the astounding amount of weight I'd lost and the strange way my body seemed to be taking an athletic shape. Still, there was this factor that I was actually always somehow in an excruciating amount of pain, especially waking up, and though some of that I would have applied to being psychosomatic—in just that it was the pure stress of the disembodied torture I was undergoing in one way or another—whether anybody would have admitted it or not, or whether or not the unknown parties in question were going to be justified for it, I still hadn't an idea or thought as to what my unstructured purpose was. And though I sat beautifully controlled into doing music as a default, I was looking at the numbers, and the massive amount of people doing remarkably well because they could afford to do so, or were lucky, or were unbearably beautiful and so could do anything they wanted, and I too much so was not that. In fact, it was almost by design my failure and my constant struggle that even the universe seemed to look down upon me in such a way that it pitied me in a harrowing attempt at karmic justice done for the seeming evil and harsh things being done. It was true that someone had set out to torture me, and this might have once been the way of the illuminated artist and tortured soul; however, having taken so metaphorically into my own boat such heavy water of grief and loss, and drowning, I was sinking into the natural ocean of monstrous storms my body was saying in so many ways it could do no more. My mind was strong—and I could take the torture for innumerable amounts of time without becoming so much more frustrated than to just stop, or start heavy breathing, or even compulsively masturbate until one world faded deeply into another and I just didn't care. But realistically, the things that were being done pointed at a strategic and tactical, military-trained psychological governing of my own autonomy. And because I knew this, I also knew whoever was responsible was more than capable of covering their tracks to the point of disappearance—an inescapable hell of unseen trauma. The basis of it was that if I raised my concerns with any law enforcement or police, I was just as often ignored, ridiculed, or worse—thought of as symptomatic of some psychological condition I well knew and understood I did not have, all because what I did seem to possess—this undying force of color and creative ingenuity that could not quite be captured or marketed to improve the bankbook of others with a sudden onset—was unacceptable in such a way that I could become some sort of object that was in no way useful besides to experiment and then observe what I might become next, all the while knowing I would not and could not stay in one form or another too long without becoming such an obvious target. —Death of a Superstar DJ. 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

Hi, i'm Russell Brand. No, get out. I'm sorry,I— ? Get out, get out! Are we trading kings for whistle! Sacred things and torturers? Lill bitz I started talking to this guy from tinder Then I quickly realized he only texted me at like 3 in the morning, like “come over” So I started texting him really weird shit— Like really weird. Like, I would make sure before I sent it, I would re-read it and be like “Ya, that's weird.” “That's really weird.” Every time, just read it to myself and be like “Ya that's giving “you're psycho” Right off the bat. Kate Winslet is so good at late night. She talks mad slow and answers every open ended question with a paragraph of thoughtless nonsense— finally, at the end of the paragraph, she answers the question in yes or no fashion; in this sense, you've completely forgotten the question through redirection. This has taken nearly five minutes. Genius. Amidst a story, she begins to slowly decrechendo until she's murmuring in a near whisper so you really have to try to pay attention to what she's saying, which is almost nothing. So considerably nothing, that you lose thought in trying to grasp and accept the words— this is excellent banter, because of course, she isn't really saying anything. This has taken another five minutes. Captivating. INT. DENTISTS OFFICE. DAY. Who is Claude Von Wastvermaan? KIMMEL Doctor Claude Von Wastverman. Okay. Who is that? KIMMEL It's me. I'm Claude Von Wastverman. Dr.— KIMMEL Yeah. It's me. KIMMEL Why are you— what? KIMMEL This is my office. …why? Because— I use specific research and target demographics to seek out people who have no interest in whatsoever watching my show and do not recognize me in any way actively seeking a dental practitioner— Why? KIMMEL Because! My audience loves me. They want to see me— they have to like me! So? KIMMEL These people don't know who I am. They don't want to see me—and there's a good chance, they won't like me at all. …this is how you spend your free time? KIMMEL —and some of my vacation days! Jesus. KIMMEL Yeah. I'm not alright! How much does this office space cost? KIMMEL You wouldn't like it. And—I take very limited insurance. Did you…study dentistry, at all, at any point? KIMMEL Not at all— Oh, Jesus. KIMMEL But Claude might have for a short time— online. These degrees look legitimate. KIMMEL He was a really good guy. Wait. What. [a rubber glove snaps] KIMMEL If you'll excuse me, I have an appointment coming in at 2:30. …you're kidding me. KIMMEL I'm not—and she's always early. Get out. Gladly. He opens the door and leads him out of the office, looking startled startled and shaking his head. KIMMEL Good afternoon, Mrs. Evanston. Perhaps I was just looking for something and my brain saw what it wanted to— but it kept coming around in ways that were stranger and stranger, and I couldn't explain the thought of it, like I was connected to something. Jimmy Slithered. But it's okay, Cause I hate to see him prosper. Wait a minute? Did it enter for a second in your head to what had happened? Very obviously is it just exactly as you'd imagined. Wait a moment; Give a little gift for winter's entrance— Suddenly you're hating Christmas, Just infected with this sort of hatred That's been creeping up on them for centuries. Very well, then Skrillex. Very well, played ventriloquist act at the Rock And how hardened are you, the heart of all non immortal and broken? Are you succumbed to never wonder either? Cratered. Disrespect and spills of want, Spools and spills and towers of yarn, You're getting broker every warrant. You're the dark and hadn't opened, Oh to be so charmed and wanted. Jimmy Slitheted, But I caught him creeping in the forest, Well, done, Harper— Now you've got yourself a story Jimmy Slithered, but that's good— I had him at the fortress, And all our audience would want Is fourth wall being broken. So here fals the house of cards! The house of cards The house of cards. And here folds the broken hand— The broken hand. The broken hand. And here calls the shattered wand, The crypted want, The shadowed trumpet horn, there! And there upon the hill, There did I grasp and fall to follow, Though the crown had not the king, The ground was sure to've caught him! And so I clasped with all my might and grip, The humble role of which that is This, Unrolled and uttered: Feast of kings, Be you what may of Prince and time and also my own brotherhood and making, There is, shadowed in my own dear marker, Yet another coming death upon us! How now, my ritual, of that and thy and they and I, To this my mark, And so I sang as this does not a number— My posture does find comfort here and tie my breath to grass from under, Striped and torn my cloth, as does in this my fortune gathers; There my fate and here to all, as wind becomes her mother, And though I call to all, but one I am, And then another. LEGAL NOTICE / ARTIST STATEMENT Project: The Festival Project ™ (Season 12) Genre: Speculative Auto-Ethnography / Social Surrealism Disclaimer: This document is a work of creative non-fiction and political satire. While inspired by the author's lived experiences with systemic oppression, housing displacement, and surveillance, the narrative employs stylized fragmentation, stream-of-consciousness, and metaphor to dramatize the psychological impact of these events. The "characters" and "dialogue" herein are artistic devices used to critique historical and modern power structures. This text should be viewed as a performative artistic expression protected under the First Amendment, and not as a literal transcript of clinical psychosis or a formal sworn affidavit. This is a character study of 'Chroma111,' the collective artworks of a musician living in a dystopian surveillance state. The erratic language is a stylistic choice to represent the character's psychological deterioration under systemic oppression. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Genre: "Afro-Surrealism" / "Social Horror" "Psycho-Acoustic Weaponry" or "Havana Syndrome symptoms." The Frame: The protagonist is subjected to "noise harassment"—a tactic dramatized here but rooted in the known reality of tenant displacement and "psychological attrition." The narrative depicts a process of "Soul Murder" ( also known as spiritual warfare) orchestrated by a hostile apparatus. The antagonist is "The Institution," representing deep-state mechanisms that view multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story allegorically dramatizes the invisible mechanisms that enforce racial hierarchy, depicting how broken social systems weaponize psychological practices against the individual. Artist's Note: This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as an artistic testament to the psychological siege endured from to 2023-2025. It is a creative record of survival against a hostile state architecture. The following is a creative non-fiction horror manifesto regarding the psychological assassination of a multicultural American artist. It documents—through the lens of Afro-Surrealism—how modern surveillance technology and sonic harassment are experienced by the targeted individual. As it stands It has become a modern sequel which mirrors the civil rights struggles of the 1960s, set in the present day. "The protagonist is being subjected to 'noise harassment'—a known tactic used by landlords and corrupt entities to displace tenants. The sound is weaponized to induce sleep deprivation and psychological attrition, dismantling of their ego and will to live, orchestrated by a hostile state apparatus. The antagonist in this piece is 'The Institution'—a deep state that views multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story dramatizes over time the invisible mechanisms (the 'Deep State') that enforce racial hierarchy and and psychological genocide, weaponizing broken social systems and unfounded psychological practices as biological weapons. This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as evidence of the psychological siege endured from 2023-2025. It is a transcript of survival against a hostile state architecture. This project spans an unlimited multiprojectoral arc of over two years of chronic violence, reaching into historical and theatrical projections and parallels over the all documented records of human existence through time and space. REBEL1. I am hypnotized; I am pain I am cryptonite I am in pain I am penalized; I am pinned l I am pinstripes on wide ties; I am Him. Pinterest, pintrest, pinholes And disinterest Centered sentiments And immigrants And ministrations, Images and insolence (And indulgences, patronages) Eclipses and rip titles, Paris Tiptons, And temptation Missing wages Push to shove and What are you doing, motherfucker?! To say the least, I'm a bit unconventional. Unexplainable joy And invisible ties and invincible triads Unimatatable charm, And prehensile times And forefathers before us Unpolished Well dressed hampers on leather and fortunes And doing and donuts and do this and don't-touches Mumbles of soft till and lunches and subtle distraction And coming construction Wages Ions I afford you To die now Like I want He's better at the body code Than old Colbert, He's one for one now Could this corrupt you— I didn't destroy her, I offered a suffix No longer for your number No longer for your hard times No longer for your warrants No longer No longer No four times Don't pan to the audience I'm a hole slow meltdown Don't man your own So wait, am I also telepathic? Yeah, that. Oh my! Is it like a two-way broadcast type— thing? Yeah, that part… Oh no, I'm so sorry. No you're not. You're right. I told you not to go looking into my thoughts. Check it all out, I bought prototypes Check it all out, I undug libraries Check it out, You're all alone at Walmart No longer working part time, The doors are closed and locked now, They're bound to stage a lock out You're better off on hard times You're better off on Lala Land No— Don't deport I want my art back No, don't deport; It's just a cake walk to apartheid, Remember mine now? Cheers to the world's longest monologues. Kudos to your picking up cabbage Remember the back for the wartimes The bagpipes have sounded; You're back to astonish us. No! I must have you a lesson; I'm back with my old will and testament No more Old Testament wanted I bought your sticks in Leviticus And so, Again– CUT TO: WILD PARTY. INT.EXT./WHENEVER HOW SICK IS THIS? NO! NOT THAT! I raised the dead from a half pipe I shoot the crowd out in foreign I can't remember my own Sam But I found one– For a dollar, For a wrong word And a hard song And a larger Go look, Now remember a rock star. Now that you're so stolen, Go back! You're unorthodox! Clear cut: you're a tragic Magic act– Now I'm back with a bag of tricks with my back out Learn your lessons. CUT BACK TO. INT./EXT. YO I'M SAYING A WIIIILD PARTY. WHENEVER YO, WHO DOES THIS?! What a party! I WANT TO GO HOME NOW! —I'M CALLING THE COPS! THIS IS YOUR HOUSE!!! {Enter The Multiverse} …And it's all house music all night. No, to that. Beg your pardon? I won't come. [The Festival Project ™ ] Now articulate your face muscles. My wat. Now you're bar banned. I had this at a festival once. What is it? A “whore salad” … All with a side of oxygen. Now you're in a tunnel. (A tunnel, a scone and a croissant) Now you're worse, warthog, immortal (Call your dad back, You're a bad son.) Now I'm out in the canyon With Chester McBadBat I got chest hair, And a straight out of the badlands Yes, I did mention this to my cousin Evan, But why ask that? So you heard everything I thought? Mmhmm. Hard times. —and everyone else? What is it like to have love man? I been locked out I'm a rock addict, But I'm damned now How's that fountain coming along? SUNNI BLU …it's just water. ARCHITECHT …yeah it's water. It's a fountain. SUNNI BLU —I WANT CHOCOLATE. Whose here? Not that guy! Four more beers? I just realized I never ever bought mine; I always had a tough guy. Box. What? Fight! I'm Eurovision And a hard remix— Ten minutes in and I realize I've already heard this. Oh yea, This Golden band of art, love and protection Perfection. Ohshea, shit! Who invited you? I got a 311 from Questlove!! Is that a beeper?! CUBE Since when are we on a first name basis? It would be weird to call you “ICE CUBE” Why's that? You. know? [the beeper goes off three more times] CUBE oh shit! What?! CUBE Nothin! Where the yard at?! sometimes it doesn't really matter Who the dialogue comes out of The whole point Is to put the art back into art projects Cause we all know it's been constructed And commercialized To the point of destruction And almost no promise For independent artists at all. So who is it with CUBE? Could be me. Could be you. Could be U— If it's not, It was all just a long lost passion project A collective God Complex. Give myself a hug Cause nobody else will God gave my case a Grace Cause somebody lost Will. Oh, Karen. Come, heart attack. Come karma, Come hot dogs Come Christmas time at the Plaza Come on, hard death. Come on. Hard Rock Hotel? Nah, Equinox. Alright. Hudson. Yards. Now you're in a tunnel Does your heart hurt? (You should clutch it.) Put your patchwork in a hard drive This is hard times, You can't come back. O! But they do take dear DRATCH and run with it! I go run along to Corrections, And ginger snaps for crosswords On hard workers So fax the whole document! Do you know what? Horcruxes! Hot lunches, yuck. Hockey! I want off this planet so bad I cross cross my fingers at crosswalks And oncoming trains but– Don't look either way before I walk. So pull a shotgun at all that I was one strong donkey before I got one address. Now I just redress the cause All I want is my bundle back. Yuck! Care for it at all? Yeah, yours, but she's a danger to humanity. Yeah, mine but I'm an honest hybrid horrid hunter. On time? I just got it at Sephora. On time, Like I never even got that. I want to be loved just to be looked at But since in this life I can't turn the clock back I've discovered it's hell that my body was born as. — I discovered it's hell that my body was born as. Such a problem when you know That even the great Rosie O'Donnell once wanted blue eyes. Now I forget where I trailed off… What a drawback. I'm all out of patience. Crypto, I tip toe now over eggshells No home for her Hard times And hard times. No code offered, No I don't fall for that'd But where's the snowfall over all the rot out back? Hard times. Hard times. Hard times. As the bell tolls And the well swells whole And the umpire does rack them Up; Nobody works harder than Hard times Hard times Hard times. Yeah, that's four Aces Up, Diamond. Run for your forks and your knives And your daughters and mothers and father And home family comfort And cufflinks and loafers, And sport coats and Your life. Your life. Your life. [The Festival Project ™] —-Chroma111. THE IMPENATRABLE TEN is INEVITABLY DISBANDED. Inevitably??? Inevitably! but not indefinitely. Oh, I guess. Alright. SILENCE. {Enter The Multiverse.} I don't want to be here. No one does. You are sending mixed messages. Imm not sending any messages… — with your brain. L E G E N D S Of course. Electromagnetic signaling Of course. I told you this had gone strange. Severely. Now how do I explain from this time how to get back to our time If there's no direct translation between our language and that one? Maybe you can't explain it. These are hard facts. So I suggest the use of highly trained telepaths. That far back? These things are possibly connected even in this time, theoretically using our past; I might suggest Telesynthesis— considering these planetary electromagnetics to which this entire planet is hardwired. …hardwired. That's right. Ascension. Hard times. Madame President? Get lost. [Secret President] I get it. You're a whistleblower. I'm not that. A shadow government official. Also wrong. Why else would you run for office? I'm trying to get shot at. They told me you were funny. But they didn't say anything about my gauntlet? Your—what? You know. My conquests—professional accomplishments? Your God complex? I know all about that. Perhaps it's not a complex. But a ‘gauntlet'? You're a journalist aren't you? I'm giving you some high art concepts. (Because for the sake of the rhyme, And please, for God's sakes, Gemini, In prose form Without the use of tables. ) I R O N I C —Deathwish. [The Festival Project ™] Season 12, Episode 01. REBEL1. Prod. By Blū Tha Gürū I would think it psychosomatic, but in less than 24 hours of restarting my vitamin regimen, my mood was so improved that I could not for a second overlook that without taking vitamins, I was missing something. Even if my newly concocted super-juice recipes were putting a curb in my abdominal muscles that even I was sure didn't entirely belong there, pairing this development with the Peloton, it was a long and diagonal, out-of-sorts thing that stuck out as if it was on somebody else's body and not mine. Still, I had to deal with the heavy weight of the drooping skin and belly that hung as if it very much did belong to me but wasn't budging, despite my attempts at a flat stomach and having been so well overstretched at one point by medical obesity and double occupancy that it was, at the very least to say, insurgically impossible. However, my brain went on having ways of wrapping my mind around this—that the rest of my body was quite slim, and even on some days seeming petite, were it not for my massive thighs, which also seemed to have sported a curve to them which was almost attractive, especially well-dressed. But the fun of it was, I wasn't exceptionally well-dressed, because I hadn't wanted to be. In fact, I was under obligation always to be about in the men's clothes I'd found because they were designer, and it was even something like a fashion statement that I dressed this grotesquely and in overlarge articles because of the astounding amount of weight I'd lost and the strange way my body seemed to be taking an athletic shape. Still, there was this factor that I was actually always somehow in an excruciating amount of pain, especially waking up, and though some of that I would have applied to being psychosomatic—in just that it was the pure stress of the disembodied torture I was undergoing in one way or another—whether anybody would have admitted it or not, or whether or not the unknown parties in question were going to be justified for it, I still hadn't an idea or thought as to what my unstructured purpose was. And though I sat beautifully controlled into doing music as a default, I was looking at the numbers, and the massive amount of people doing remarkably well because they could afford to do so, or were lucky, or were unbearably beautiful and so could do anything they wanted, and I too much so was not that. In fact, it was almost by design my failure and my constant struggle that even the universe seemed to look down upon me in such a way that it pitied me in a harrowing attempt at karmic justice done for the seeming evil and harsh things being done. It was true that someone had set out to torture me, and this might have once been the way of the illuminated artist and tortured soul; however, having taken so metaphorically into my own boat such heavy water of grief and loss, and drowning, I was sinking into the natural ocean of monstrous storms my body was saying in so many ways it could do no more. My mind was strong—and I could take the torture for innumerable amounts of time without becoming so much more frustrated than to just stop, or start heavy breathing, or even compulsively masturbate until one world faded deeply into another and I just didn't care. But realistically, the things that were being done pointed at a strategic and tactical, military-trained psychological governing of my own autonomy. And because I knew this, I also knew whoever was responsible was more than capable of covering their tracks to the point of disappearance—an inescapable hell of unseen trauma. The basis of it was that if I raised my concerns with any law enforcement or police, I was just as often ignored, ridiculed, or worse—thought of as symptomatic of some psychological condition I well knew and understood I did not have, all because what I did seem to possess—this undying force of color and creative ingenuity that could not quite be captured or marketed to improve the bankbook of others with a sudden onset—was unacceptable in such a way that I could become some sort of object that was in no way useful besides to experiment and then observe what I might become next, all the while knowing I would not and could not stay in one form or another too long without becoming such an obvious target. —Death of a Superstar DJ. 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

EXT. CONCERT. DAY SUNNI BLU converses with CHARLES over a musical break STAGE LEFT of the MAINSTAGE. SUNNI BLU Thems the two prettiest girls right there. CHARLES yeah . ok. SUNNI BLU Grab em up. CHARLES What? SUNNI BLU Snatch em up. CHARLES Do you mean. SUNNI BLU Micheal Jackson style munich on that bitch. CHARLES What—? SUNNI BLU Them bitchez. CHARLES Are you saying—? SUNNI BLU They wont mind. CHARLES Uhhhh… SUNNI BLU I promise. watch . BOUNCER SUNNI's bodyguard BOUNCER crosses to center stage. SUNNI whispers into BOUNCER'S ear and he nods once and smirks; he then walks out into the crowd and picks up the two girls SUNNI aforementioned, tossing each of them over his shoulders, planting them on stage next to SUNNI; they scream and cry hysterically. SUNNI nods and smiles in self admiration and throws BOUNCER and CHARLES a thumbs up; CHARLES shakes his head slowly in disapproval, the GIRLS scream and cry hysterically; SUNNI grins and carries on about the show. CUT IMMEDIATELY TO: SUNNI BLU YO! I got mad lawsuits. MORGAN Plural? SUNNI BLU Like multiple! MORGAN well what were you expecting, sunni? Its 202#--? SUNNI BLU But michael is timeless! MORGAN And youre not michael jackson! SUNNI BLU You're right! I sold more records already than him! MORGAN ugh! PUBLICIST *does* {Enter The Multiverse} Hi, i'm Russell Brand. No, get out. I'm sorry,I— ? Get out, get out! Are we trading kings for whistle! Sacred things and torturers? Lill bitz I started talking to this guy from tinder Then I quickly realized he only texted me at like 3 in the morning, like “come over” So I started texting him really weird shit— Like really weird. Like, I would make sure before I sent it, I would re-read it and be like “Ya, that's weird.” “That's really weird.” Every time, just read it to myself and be like “Ya that's giving “you're psycho” Right off the bat. Kate Winslet is so good at late night. She talks mad slow and answers every open ended question with a paragraph of thoughtless nonsense— finally, at the end of the paragraph, she answers the question in yes or no fashion; in this sense, you've completely forgotten the question through redirection. This has taken nearly five minutes. Genius. Amidst a story, she begins to slowly decrechendo until she's murmuring in a near whisper so you really have to try to pay attention to what she's saying, which is almost nothing. So considerably nothing, that you lose thought in trying to grasp and accept the words— this is excellent banter, because of course, she isn't really saying anything. This has taken another five minutes. Captivating. INT. DENTISTS OFFICE. DAY. Who is Claude Von Wastvermaan? KIMMEL Doctor Claude Von Wastverman. Okay. Who is that? KIMMEL It's me. I'm Claude Von Wastverman. Dr.— KIMMEL Yeah. It's me. KIMMEL Why are you— what? KIMMEL This is my office. …why? Because— I use specific research and target demographics to seek out people who have no interest in whatsoever watching my show and do not recognize me in any way actively seeking a dental practitioner— Why? KIMMEL Because! My audience loves me. They want to see me— they have to like me! So? KIMMEL These people don't know who I am. They don't want to see me—and there's a good chance, they won't like me at all. …this is how you spend your free time? KIMMEL —and some of my vacation days! Jesus. KIMMEL Yeah. I'm not alright! How much does this office space cost? KIMMEL You wouldn't like it. And—I take very limited insurance. Did you…study dentistry, at all, at any point? KIMMEL Not at all— Oh, Jesus. KIMMEL But Claude might have for a short time— online. These degrees look legitimate. KIMMEL He was a really good guy. Wait. What. [a rubber glove snaps] KIMMEL If you'll excuse me, I have an appointment coming in at 2:30. …you're kidding me. KIMMEL I'm not—and she's always early. Get out. Gladly. He opens the door and leads him out of the office, looking startled startled and shaking his head. KIMMEL Good afternoon, Mrs. Evanston. Perhaps I was just looking for something and my brain saw what it wanted to— but it kept coming around in ways that were stranger and stranger, and I couldn't explain the thought of it, like I was connected to something. Jimmy Slithered. But it's okay, Cause I hate to see him prosper. Wait a minute? Did it enter for a second in your head to what had happened? Very obviously is it just exactly as you'd imagined. Wait a moment; Give a little gift for winter's entrance— Suddenly you're hating Christmas, Just infected with this sort of hatred That's been creeping up on them for centuries. Very well, then Skrillex. Very well, played ventriloquist act at the Rock And how hardened are you, the heart of all non immortal and broken? Are you succumbed to never wonder either? Cratered. Disrespect and spills of want, Spools and spills and towers of yarn, You're getting broker every warrant. You're the dark and hadn't opened, Oh to be so charmed and wanted. Jimmy Slitheted, But I caught him creeping in the forest, Well, done, Harper— Now you've got yourself a story Jimmy Slithered, but that's good— I had him at the fortress, And all our audience would want Is fourth wall being broken. So here fals the house of cards! The house of cards The house of cards. And here folds the broken hand— The broken hand. The broken hand. And here calls the shattered wand, The crypted want, The shadowed trumpet horn, there! And there upon the hill, There did I grasp and fall to follow, Though the crown had not the king, The ground was sure to've caught him! And so I clasped with all my might and grip, The humble role of which that is This, Unrolled and uttered: Feast of kings, Be you what may of Prince and time and also my own brotherhood and making, There is, shadowed in my own dear marker, Yet another coming death upon us! How now, my ritual, of that and thy and they and I, To this my mark, And so I sang as this does not a number— My posture does find comfort here and tie my breath to grass from under, Striped and torn my cloth, as does in this my fortune gathers; There my fate and here to all, as wind becomes her mother, And though I call to all, but one I am, And then another. LEGAL NOTICE / ARTIST STATEMENT Project: The Festival Project ™ (Season 12) Genre: Speculative Auto-Ethnography / Social Surrealism Disclaimer: This document is a work of creative non-fiction and political satire. While inspired by the author's lived experiences with systemic oppression, housing displacement, and surveillance, the narrative employs stylized fragmentation, stream-of-consciousness, and metaphor to dramatize the psychological impact of these events. The "characters" and "dialogue" herein are artistic devices used to critique historical and modern power structures. This text should be viewed as a performative artistic expression protected under the First Amendment, and not as a literal transcript of clinical psychosis or a formal sworn affidavit. This is a character study of 'Chroma111,' the collective artworks of a musician living in a dystopian surveillance state. The erratic language is a stylistic choice to represent the character's psychological deterioration under systemic oppression. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Genre: "Afro-Surrealism" / "Social Horror" "Psycho-Acoustic Weaponry" or "Havana Syndrome symptoms." The Frame: The protagonist is subjected to "noise harassment"—a tactic dramatized here but rooted in the known reality of tenant displacement and "psychological attrition." The narrative depicts a process of "Soul Murder" ( also known as spiritual warfare) orchestrated by a hostile apparatus. The antagonist is "The Institution," representing deep-state mechanisms that view multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story allegorically dramatizes the invisible mechanisms that enforce racial hierarchy, depicting how broken social systems weaponize psychological practices against the individual. Artist's Note: This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as an artistic testament to the psychological siege endured from to 2023-2025. It is a creative record of survival against a hostile state architecture. The following is a creative non-fiction horror manifesto regarding the psychological assassination of a multicultural American artist. It documents—through the lens of Afro-Surrealism—how modern surveillance technology and sonic harassment are experienced by the targeted individual. As it stands It has become a modern sequel which mirrors the civil rights struggles of the 1960s, set in the present day. "The protagonist is being subjected to 'noise harassment'—a known tactic used by landlords and corrupt entities to displace tenants. The sound is weaponized to induce sleep deprivation and psychological attrition, dismantling of their ego and will to live, orchestrated by a hostile state apparatus. The antagonist in this piece is 'The Institution'—a deep state that views multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story dramatizes over time the invisible mechanisms (the 'Deep State') that enforce racial hierarchy and and psychological genocide, weaponizing broken social systems and unfounded psychological practices as biological weapons. This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as evidence of the psychological siege endured from 2023-2025. It is a transcript of survival against a hostile state architecture. This project spans an unlimited multiprojectoral arc of over two years of chronic violence, reaching into historical and theatrical projections and parallels over the all documented records of human existence through time and space. REBEL1. I am hypnotized; I am pain I am cryptonite I am in pain I am penalized; I am pinned l I am pinstripes on wide ties; I am Him. Pinterest, pintrest, pinholes And disinterest Centered sentiments And immigrants And ministrations, Images and insolence (And indulgences, patronages) Eclipses and rip titles, Paris Tiptons, And temptation Missing wages Push to shove and What are you doing, motherfucker?! To say the least, I'm a bit unconventional. Unexplainable joy And invisible ties and invincible triads Unimatatable charm, And prehensile times And forefathers before us Unpolished Well dressed hampers on leather and fortunes And doing and donuts and do this and don't-touches Mumbles of soft till and lunches and subtle distraction And coming construction Wages Ions I afford you To die now Like I want He's better at the body code Than old Colbert, He's one for one now Could this corrupt you— I didn't destroy her, I offered a suffix No longer for your number No longer for your hard times No longer for your warrants No longer No longer No four times Don't pan to the audience I'm a hole slow meltdown Don't man your own So wait, am I also telepathic? Yeah, that. Oh my! Is it like a two-way broadcast type— thing? Yeah, that part… Oh no, I'm so sorry. No you're not. You're right. I told you not to go looking into my thoughts. Check it all out, I bought prototypes Check it all out, I undug libraries Check it out, You're all alone at Walmart No longer working part time, The doors are closed and locked now, They're bound to stage a lock out You're better off on hard times You're better off on Lala Land No— Don't deport I want my art back No, don't deport; It's just a cake walk to apartheid, Remember mine now? Cheers to the world's longest monologues. Kudos to your picking up cabbage Remember the back for the wartimes The bagpipes have sounded; You're back to astonish us. No! I must have you a lesson; I'm back with my old will and testament No more Old Testament wanted I bought your sticks in Leviticus And so, Again– CUT TO: WILD PARTY. INT.EXT./WHENEVER HOW SICK IS THIS? NO! NOT THAT! I raised the dead from a half pipe I shoot the crowd out in foreign I can't remember my own Sam But I found one– For a dollar, For a wrong word And a hard song And a larger Go look, Now remember a rock star. Now that you're so stolen, Go back! You're unorthodox! Clear cut: you're a tragic Magic act– Now I'm back with a bag of tricks with my back out Learn your lessons. CUT BACK TO. INT./EXT. YO I'M SAYING A WIIIILD PARTY. WHENEVER YO, WHO DOES THIS?! What a party! I WANT TO GO HOME NOW! —I'M CALLING THE COPS! THIS IS YOUR HOUSE!!! {Enter The Multiverse} …And it's all house music all night. No, to that. Beg your pardon? I won't come. [The Festival Project ™ ] Now articulate your face muscles. My wat. Now you're bar banned. I had this at a festival once. What is it? A “whore salad” … All with a side of oxygen. Now you're in a tunnel. (A tunnel, a scone and a croissant) Now you're worse, warthog, immortal (Call your dad back, You're a bad son.) Now I'm out in the canyon With Chester McBadBat I got chest hair, And a straight out of the badlands Yes, I did mention this to my cousin Evan, But why ask that? So you heard everything I thought? Mmhmm. Hard times. —and everyone else? What is it like to have love man? I been locked out I'm a rock addict, But I'm damned now How's that fountain coming along? SUNNI BLU …it's just water. ARCHITECHT …yeah it's water. It's a fountain. SUNNI BLU —I WANT CHOCOLATE. Whose here? Not that guy! Four more beers? I just realized I never ever bought mine; I always had a tough guy. Box. What? Fight! I'm Eurovision And a hard remix— Ten minutes in and I realize I've already heard this. Oh yea, This Golden band of art, love and protection Perfection. Ohshea, shit! Who invited you? I got a 311 from Questlove!! Is that a beeper?! CUBE Since when are we on a first name basis? It would be weird to call you “ICE CUBE” Why's that? You. know? [the beeper goes off three more times] CUBE oh shit! What?! CUBE Nothin! Where the yard at?! sometimes it doesn't really matter Who the dialogue comes out of The whole point Is to put the art back into art projects Cause we all know it's been constructed And commercialized To the point of destruction And almost no promise For independent artists at all. So who is it with CUBE? Could be me. Could be you. Could be U— If it's not, It was all just a long lost passion project A collective God Complex. Give myself a hug Cause nobody else will God gave my case a Grace Cause somebody lost Will. Oh, Karen. Come, heart attack. Come karma, Come hot dogs Come Christmas time at the Plaza Come on, hard death. Come on. Hard Rock Hotel? Nah, Equinox. Alright. Hudson. Yards. Now you're in a tunnel Does your heart hurt? (You should clutch it.) Put your patchwork in a hard drive This is hard times, You can't come back. O! But they do take dear DRATCH and run with it! I go run along to Corrections, And ginger snaps for crosswords On hard workers So fax the whole document! Do you know what? Horcruxes! Hot lunches, yuck. Hockey! I want off this planet so bad I cross cross my fingers at crosswalks And oncoming trains but– Don't look either way before I walk. So pull a shotgun at all that I was one strong donkey before I got one address. Now I just redress the cause All I want is my bundle back. Yuck! Care for it at all? Yeah, yours, but she's a danger to humanity. Yeah, mine but I'm an honest hybrid horrid hunter. On time? I just got it at Sephora. On time, Like I never even got that. I want to be loved just to be looked at But since in this life I can't turn the clock back I've discovered it's hell that my body was born as. — I discovered it's hell that my body was born as. Such a problem when you know That even the great Rosie O'Donnell once wanted blue eyes. Now I forget where I trailed off… What a drawback. I'm all out of patience. Crypto, I tip toe now over eggshells No home for her Hard times And hard times. No code offered, No I don't fall for that'd But where's the snowfall over all the rot out back? Hard times. Hard times. Hard times. As the bell tolls And the well swells whole And the umpire does rack them Up; Nobody works harder than Hard times Hard times Hard times. Yeah, that's four Aces Up, Diamond. Run for your forks and your knives And your daughters and mothers and father And home family comfort And cufflinks and loafers, And sport coats and Your life. Your life. Your life. [The Festival Project ™] —-Chroma111. THE IMPENATRABLE TEN is INEVITABLY DISBANDED. Inevitably??? Inevitably! but not indefinitely. Oh, I guess. Alright. SILENCE. {Enter The Multiverse.} I don't want to be here. No one does. You are sending mixed messages. Imm not sending any messages… — with your brain. L E G E N D S Of course. Electromagnetic signaling Of course. I told you this had gone strange. Severely. Now how do I explain from this time how to get back to our time If there's no direct translation between our language and that one? Maybe you can't explain it. These are hard facts. So I suggest the use of highly trained telepaths. That far back? These things are possibly connected even in this time, theoretically using our past; I might suggest Telesynthesis— considering these planetary electromagnetics to which this entire planet is hardwired. …hardwired. That's right. Ascension. Hard times. Madame President? Get lost. [Secret President] I get it. You're a whistleblower. I'm not that. A shadow government official. Also wrong. Why else would you run for office? I'm trying to get shot at. They told me you were funny. But they didn't say anything about my gauntlet? Your—what? You know. My conquests—professional accomplishments? Your God complex? I know all about that. Perhaps it's not a complex. But a ‘gauntlet'? You're a journalist aren't you? I'm giving you some high art concepts. (Because for the sake of the rhyme, And please, for God's sakes, Gemini, In prose form Without the use of tables. ) I R O N I C —Deathwish. [The Festival Project ™] Season 12, Episode 01. REBEL1. Prod. By Blū Tha Gürū I would think it psychosomatic, but in less than 24 hours of restarting my vitamin regimen, my mood was so improved that I could not for a second overlook that without taking vitamins, I was missing something. Even if my newly concocted super-juice recipes were putting a curb in my abdominal muscles that even I was sure didn't entirely belong there, pairing this development with the Peloton, it was a long and diagonal, out-of-sorts thing that stuck out as if it was on somebody else's body and not mine. Still, I had to deal with the heavy weight of the drooping skin and belly that hung as if it very much did belong to me but wasn't budging, despite my attempts at a flat stomach and having been so well overstretched at one point by medical obesity and double occupancy that it was, at the very least to say, insurgically impossible. However, my brain went on having ways of wrapping my mind around this—that the rest of my body was quite slim, and even on some days seeming petite, were it not for my massive thighs, which also seemed to have sported a curve to them which was almost attractive, especially well-dressed. But the fun of it was, I wasn't exceptionally well-dressed, because I hadn't wanted to be. In fact, I was under obligation always to be about in the men's clothes I'd found because they were designer, and it was even something like a fashion statement that I dressed this grotesquely and in overlarge articles because of the astounding amount of weight I'd lost and the strange way my body seemed to be taking an athletic shape. Still, there was this factor that I was actually always somehow in an excruciating amount of pain, especially waking up, and though some of that I would have applied to being psychosomatic—in just that it was the pure stress of the disembodied torture I was undergoing in one way or another—whether anybody would have admitted it or not, or whether or not the unknown parties in question were going to be justified for it, I still hadn't an idea or thought as to what my unstructured purpose was. And though I sat beautifully controlled into doing music as a default, I was looking at the numbers, and the massive amount of people doing remarkably well because they could afford to do so, or were lucky, or were unbearably beautiful and so could do anything they wanted, and I too much so was not that. In fact, it was almost by design my failure and my constant struggle that even the universe seemed to look down upon me in such a way that it pitied me in a harrowing attempt at karmic justice done for the seeming evil and harsh things being done. It was true that someone had set out to torture me, and this might have once been the way of the illuminated artist and tortured soul; however, having taken so metaphorically into my own boat such heavy water of grief and loss, and drowning, I was sinking into the natural ocean of monstrous storms my body was saying in so many ways it could do no more. My mind was strong—and I could take the torture for innumerable amounts of time without becoming so much more frustrated than to just stop, or start heavy breathing, or even compulsively masturbate until one world faded deeply into another and I just didn't care. But realistically, the things that were being done pointed at a strategic and tactical, military-trained psychological governing of my own autonomy. And because I knew this, I also knew whoever was responsible was more than capable of covering their tracks to the point of disappearance—an inescapable hell of unseen trauma. The basis of it was that if I raised my concerns with any law enforcement or police, I was just as often ignored, ridiculed, or worse—thought of as symptomatic of some psychological condition I well knew and understood I did not have, all because what I did seem to possess—this undying force of color and creative ingenuity that could not quite be captured or marketed to improve the bankbook of others with a sudden onset—was unacceptable in such a way that I could become some sort of object that was in no way useful besides to experiment and then observe what I might become next, all the while knowing I would not and could not stay in one form or another too long without becoming such an obvious target. —Death of a Superstar DJ. 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

Hi, i'm Russell Brand. No, get out. I'm sorry,I— ? Get out, get out! Are we trading kings for whistle! Sacred things and torturers? Lill bitz I started talking to this guy from tinder Then I quickly realized he only texted me at like 3 in the morning, like “come over” So I started texting him really weird shit— Like really weird. Like, I would make sure before I sent it, I would re-read it and be like “Ya, that's weird.” “That's really weird.” Every time, just read it to myself and be like “Ya that's giving “you're psycho” Right off the bat. Kate Winslet is so good at late night. She talks mad slow and answers every open ended question with a paragraph of thoughtless nonsense— finally, at the end of the paragraph, she answers the question in yes or no fashion; in this sense, you've completely forgotten the question through redirection. This has taken nearly five minutes. Genius. Amidst a story, she begins to slowly decrechendo until she's murmuring in a near whisper so you really have to try to pay attention to what she's saying, which is almost nothing. So considerably nothing, that you lose thought in trying to grasp and accept the words— this is excellent banter, because of course, she isn't really saying anything. This has taken another five minutes. Captivating. INT. DENTISTS OFFICE. DAY. Who is Claude Von Wastvermaan? KIMMEL Doctor Claude Von Wastverman. Okay. Who is that? KIMMEL It's me. I'm Claude Von Wastverman. Dr.— KIMMEL Yeah. It's me. KIMMEL Why are you— what? KIMMEL This is my office. …why? Because— I use specific research and target demographics to seek out people who have no interest in whatsoever watching my show and do not recognize me in any way actively seeking a dental practitioner— Why? KIMMEL Because! My audience loves me. They want to see me— they have to like me! So? KIMMEL These people don't know who I am. They don't want to see me—and there's a good chance, they won't like me at all. …this is how you spend your free time? KIMMEL —and some of my vacation days! Jesus. KIMMEL Yeah. I'm not alright! How much does this office space cost? KIMMEL You wouldn't like it. And—I take very limited insurance. Did you…study dentistry, at all, at any point? KIMMEL Not at all— Oh, Jesus. KIMMEL But Claude might have for a short time— online. These degrees look legitimate. KIMMEL He was a really good guy. Wait. What. [a rubber glove snaps] KIMMEL If you'll excuse me, I have an appointment coming in at 2:30. …you're kidding me. KIMMEL I'm not—and she's always early. Get out. Gladly. He opens the door and leads him out of the office, looking startled startled and shaking his head. KIMMEL Good afternoon, Mrs. Evanston. Perhaps I was just looking for something and my brain saw what it wanted to— but it kept coming around in ways that were stranger and stranger, and I couldn't explain the thought of it, like I was connected to something. Jimmy Slithered. But it's okay, Cause I hate to see him prosper. Wait a minute? Did it enter for a second in your head to what had happened? Very obviously is it just exactly as you'd imagined. Wait a moment; Give a little gift for winter's entrance— Suddenly you're hating Christmas, Just infected with this sort of hatred That's been creeping up on them for centuries. Very well, then Skrillex. Very well, played ventriloquist act at the Rock And how hardened are you, the heart of all non immortal and broken? Are you succumbed to never wonder either? Cratered. Disrespect and spills of want, Spools and spills and towers of yarn, You're getting broker every warrant. You're the dark and hadn't opened, Oh to be so charmed and wanted. Jimmy Slitheted, But I caught him creeping in the forest, Well, done, Harper— Now you've got yourself a story Jimmy Slithered, but that's good— I had him at the fortress, And all our audience would want Is fourth wall being broken. So here fals the house of cards! The house of cards The house of cards. And here folds the broken hand— The broken hand. The broken hand. And here calls the shattered wand, The crypted want, The shadowed trumpet horn, there! And there upon the hill, There did I grasp and fall to follow, Though the crown had not the king, The ground was sure to've caught him! And so I clasped with all my might and grip, The humble role of which that is This, Unrolled and uttered: Feast of kings, Be you what may of Prince and time and also my own brotherhood and making, There is, shadowed in my own dear marker, Yet another coming death upon us! How now, my ritual, of that and thy and they and I, To this my mark, And so I sang as this does not a number— My posture does find comfort here and tie my breath to grass from under, Striped and torn my cloth, as does in this my fortune gathers; There my fate and here to all, as wind becomes her mother, And though I call to all, but one I am, And then another. LEGAL NOTICE / ARTIST STATEMENT Project: The Festival Project ™ (Season 12) Genre: Speculative Auto-Ethnography / Social Surrealism Disclaimer: This document is a work of creative non-fiction and political satire. While inspired by the author's lived experiences with systemic oppression, housing displacement, and surveillance, the narrative employs stylized fragmentation, stream-of-consciousness, and metaphor to dramatize the psychological impact of these events. The "characters" and "dialogue" herein are artistic devices used to critique historical and modern power structures. This text should be viewed as a performative artistic expression protected under the First Amendment, and not as a literal transcript of clinical psychosis or a formal sworn affidavit. This is a character study of 'Chroma111,' the collective artworks of a musician living in a dystopian surveillance state. The erratic language is a stylistic choice to represent the character's psychological deterioration under systemic oppression. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Genre: "Afro-Surrealism" / "Social Horror" "Psycho-Acoustic Weaponry" or "Havana Syndrome symptoms." The Frame: The protagonist is subjected to "noise harassment"—a tactic dramatized here but rooted in the known reality of tenant displacement and "psychological attrition." The narrative depicts a process of "Soul Murder" ( also known as spiritual warfare) orchestrated by a hostile apparatus. The antagonist is "The Institution," representing deep-state mechanisms that view multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story allegorically dramatizes the invisible mechanisms that enforce racial hierarchy, depicting how broken social systems weaponize psychological practices against the individual. Artist's Note: This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as an artistic testament to the psychological siege endured from to 2023-2025. It is a creative record of survival against a hostile state architecture. The following is a creative non-fiction horror manifesto regarding the psychological assassination of a multicultural American artist. It documents—through the lens of Afro-Surrealism—how modern surveillance technology and sonic harassment are experienced by the targeted individual. As it stands It has become a modern sequel which mirrors the civil rights struggles of the 1960s, set in the present day. "The protagonist is being subjected to 'noise harassment'—a known tactic used by landlords and corrupt entities to displace tenants. The sound is weaponized to induce sleep deprivation and psychological attrition, dismantling of their ego and will to live, orchestrated by a hostile state apparatus. The antagonist in this piece is 'The Institution'—a deep state that views multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story dramatizes over time the invisible mechanisms (the 'Deep State') that enforce racial hierarchy and and psychological genocide, weaponizing broken social systems and unfounded psychological practices as biological weapons. This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as evidence of the psychological siege endured from 2023-2025. It is a transcript of survival against a hostile state architecture. This project spans an unlimited multiprojectoral arc of over two years of chronic violence, reaching into historical and theatrical projections and parallels over the all documented records of human existence through time and space. REBEL1. I am hypnotized; I am pain I am cryptonite I am in pain I am penalized; I am pinned l I am pinstripes on wide ties; I am Him. Pinterest, pintrest, pinholes And disinterest Centered sentiments And immigrants And ministrations, Images and insolence (And indulgences, patronages) Eclipses and rip titles, Paris Tiptons, And temptation Missing wages Push to shove and What are you doing, motherfucker?! To say the least, I'm a bit unconventional. Unexplainable joy And invisible ties and invincible triads Unimatatable charm, And prehensile times And forefathers before us Unpolished Well dressed hampers on leather and fortunes And doing and donuts and do this and don't-touches Mumbles of soft till and lunches and subtle distraction And coming construction Wages Ions I afford you To die now Like I want He's better at the body code Than old Colbert, He's one for one now Could this corrupt you— I didn't destroy her, I offered a suffix No longer for your number No longer for your hard times No longer for your warrants No longer No longer No four times Don't pan to the audience I'm a hole slow meltdown Don't man your own So wait, am I also telepathic? Yeah, that. Oh my! Is it like a two-way broadcast type— thing? Yeah, that part… Oh no, I'm so sorry. No you're not. You're right. I told you not to go looking into my thoughts. Check it all out, I bought prototypes Check it all out, I undug libraries Check it out, You're all alone at Walmart No longer working part time, The doors are closed and locked now, They're bound to stage a lock out You're better off on hard times You're better off on Lala Land No— Don't deport I want my art back No, don't deport; It's just a cake walk to apartheid, Remember mine now? Cheers to the world's longest monologues. Kudos to your picking up cabbage Remember the back for the wartimes The bagpipes have sounded; You're back to astonish us. No! I must have you a lesson; I'm back with my old will and testament No more Old Testament wanted I bought your sticks in Leviticus And so, Again– CUT TO: WILD PARTY. INT.EXT./WHENEVER HOW SICK IS THIS? NO! NOT THAT! I raised the dead from a half pipe I shoot the crowd out in foreign I can't remember my own Sam But I found one– For a dollar, For a wrong word And a hard song And a larger Go look, Now remember a rock star. Now that you're so stolen, Go back! You're unorthodox! Clear cut: you're a tragic Magic act– Now I'm back with a bag of tricks with my back out Learn your lessons. CUT BACK TO. INT./EXT. YO I'M SAYING A WIIIILD PARTY. WHENEVER YO, WHO DOES THIS?! What a party! I WANT TO GO HOME NOW! —I'M CALLING THE COPS! THIS IS YOUR HOUSE!!! {Enter The Multiverse} …And it's all house music all night. No, to that. Beg your pardon? I won't come. [The Festival Project ™ ] Now articulate your face muscles. My wat. Now you're bar banned. I had this at a festival once. What is it? A “whore salad” … All with a side of oxygen. Now you're in a tunnel. (A tunnel, a scone and a croissant) Now you're worse, warthog, immortal (Call your dad back, You're a bad son.) Now I'm out in the canyon With Chester McBadBat I got chest hair, And a straight out of the badlands Yes, I did mention this to my cousin Evan, But why ask that? So you heard everything I thought? Mmhmm. Hard times. —and everyone else? What is it like to have love man? I been locked out I'm a rock addict, But I'm damned now How's that fountain coming along? SUNNI BLU …it's just water. ARCHITECHT …yeah it's water. It's a fountain. SUNNI BLU —I WANT CHOCOLATE. Whose here? Not that guy! Four more beers? I just realized I never ever bought mine; I always had a tough guy. Box. What? Fight! I'm Eurovision And a hard remix— Ten minutes in and I realize I've already heard this. Oh yea, This Golden band of art, love and protection Perfection. Ohshea, shit! Who invited you? I got a 311 from Questlove!! Is that a beeper?! CUBE Since when are we on a first name basis? It would be weird to call you “ICE CUBE” Why's that? You. know? [the beeper goes off three more times] CUBE oh shit! What?! CUBE Nothin! Where the yard at?! sometimes it doesn't really matter Who the dialogue comes out of The whole point Is to put the art back into art projects Cause we all know it's been constructed And commercialized To the point of destruction And almost no promise For independent artists at all. So who is it with CUBE? Could be me. Could be you. Could be U— If it's not, It was all just a long lost passion project A collective God Complex. Give myself a hug Cause nobody else will God gave my case a Grace Cause somebody lost Will. Oh, Karen. Come, heart attack. Come karma, Come hot dogs Come Christmas time at the Plaza Come on, hard death. Come on. Hard Rock Hotel? Nah, Equinox. Alright. Hudson. Yards. Now you're in a tunnel Does your heart hurt? (You should clutch it.) Put your patchwork in a hard drive This is hard times, You can't come back. O! But they do take dear DRATCH and run with it! I go run along to Corrections, And ginger snaps for crosswords On hard workers So fax the whole document! Do you know what? Horcruxes! Hot lunches, yuck. Hockey! I want off this planet so bad I cross cross my fingers at crosswalks And oncoming trains but– Don't look either way before I walk. So pull a shotgun at all that I was one strong donkey before I got one address. Now I just redress the cause All I want is my bundle back. Yuck! Care for it at all? Yeah, yours, but she's a danger to humanity. Yeah, mine but I'm an honest hybrid horrid hunter. On time? I just got it at Sephora. On time, Like I never even got that. I want to be loved just to be looked at But since in this life I can't turn the clock back I've discovered it's hell that my body was born as. — I discovered it's hell that my body was born as. Such a problem when you know That even the great Rosie O'Donnell once wanted blue eyes. Now I forget where I trailed off… What a drawback. I'm all out of patience. Crypto, I tip toe now over eggshells No home for her Hard times And hard times. No code offered, No I don't fall for that'd But where's the snowfall over all the rot out back? Hard times. Hard times. Hard times. As the bell tolls And the well swells whole And the umpire does rack them Up; Nobody works harder than Hard times Hard times Hard times. Yeah, that's four Aces Up, Diamond. Run for your forks and your knives And your daughters and mothers and father And home family comfort And cufflinks and loafers, And sport coats and Your life. Your life. Your life. [The Festival Project ™] —-Chroma111. THE IMPENATRABLE TEN is INEVITABLY DISBANDED. Inevitably??? Inevitably! but not indefinitely. Oh, I guess. Alright. SILENCE. {Enter The Multiverse.} I don't want to be here. No one does. You are sending mixed messages. Imm not sending any messages… — with your brain. L E G E N D S Of course. Electromagnetic signaling Of course. I told you this had gone strange. Severely. Now how do I explain from this time how to get back to our time If there's no direct translation between our language and that one? Maybe you can't explain it. These are hard facts. So I suggest the use of highly trained telepaths. That far back? These things are possibly connected even in this time, theoretically using our past; I might suggest Telesynthesis— considering these planetary electromagnetics to which this entire planet is hardwired. …hardwired. That's right. Ascension. Hard times. Madame President? Get lost. [Secret President] I get it. You're a whistleblower. I'm not that. A shadow government official. Also wrong. Why else would you run for office? I'm trying to get shot at. They told me you were funny. But they didn't say anything about my gauntlet? Your—what? You know. My conquests—professional accomplishments? Your God complex? I know all about that. Perhaps it's not a complex. But a ‘gauntlet'? You're a journalist aren't you? I'm giving you some high art concepts. (Because for the sake of the rhyme, And please, for God's sakes, Gemini, In prose form Without the use of tables. ) I R O N I C —Deathwish. [The Festival Project ™] Season 12, Episode 01. REBEL1. Prod. By Blū Tha Gürū I would think it psychosomatic, but in less than 24 hours of restarting my vitamin regimen, my mood was so improved that I could not for a second overlook that without taking vitamins, I was missing something. Even if my newly concocted super-juice recipes were putting a curb in my abdominal muscles that even I was sure didn't entirely belong there, pairing this development with the Peloton, it was a long and diagonal, out-of-sorts thing that stuck out as if it was on somebody else's body and not mine. Still, I had to deal with the heavy weight of the drooping skin and belly that hung as if it very much did belong to me but wasn't budging, despite my attempts at a flat stomach and having been so well overstretched at one point by medical obesity and double occupancy that it was, at the very least to say, insurgically impossible. However, my brain went on having ways of wrapping my mind around this—that the rest of my body was quite slim, and even on some days seeming petite, were it not for my massive thighs, which also seemed to have sported a curve to them which was almost attractive, especially well-dressed. But the fun of it was, I wasn't exceptionally well-dressed, because I hadn't wanted to be. In fact, I was under obligation always to be about in the men's clothes I'd found because they were designer, and it was even something like a fashion statement that I dressed this grotesquely and in overlarge articles because of the astounding amount of weight I'd lost and the strange way my body seemed to be taking an athletic shape. Still, there was this factor that I was actually always somehow in an excruciating amount of pain, especially waking up, and though some of that I would have applied to being psychosomatic—in just that it was the pure stress of the disembodied torture I was undergoing in one way or another—whether anybody would have admitted it or not, or whether or not the unknown parties in question were going to be justified for it, I still hadn't an idea or thought as to what my unstructured purpose was. And though I sat beautifully controlled into doing music as a default, I was looking at the numbers, and the massive amount of people doing remarkably well because they could afford to do so, or were lucky, or were unbearably beautiful and so could do anything they wanted, and I too much so was not that. In fact, it was almost by design my failure and my constant struggle that even the universe seemed to look down upon me in such a way that it pitied me in a harrowing attempt at karmic justice done for the seeming evil and harsh things being done. It was true that someone had set out to torture me, and this might have once been the way of the illuminated artist and tortured soul; however, having taken so metaphorically into my own boat such heavy water of grief and loss, and drowning, I was sinking into the natural ocean of monstrous storms my body was saying in so many ways it could do no more. My mind was strong—and I could take the torture for innumerable amounts of time without becoming so much more frustrated than to just stop, or start heavy breathing, or even compulsively masturbate until one world faded deeply into another and I just didn't care. But realistically, the things that were being done pointed at a strategic and tactical, military-trained psychological governing of my own autonomy. And because I knew this, I also knew whoever was responsible was more than capable of covering their tracks to the point of disappearance—an inescapable hell of unseen trauma. The basis of it was that if I raised my concerns with any law enforcement or police, I was just as often ignored, ridiculed, or worse—thought of as symptomatic of some psychological condition I well knew and understood I did not have, all because what I did seem to possess—this undying force of color and creative ingenuity that could not quite be captured or marketed to improve the bankbook of others with a sudden onset—was unacceptable in such a way that I could become some sort of object that was in no way useful besides to experiment and then observe what I might become next, all the while knowing I would not and could not stay in one form or another too long without becoming such an obvious target. —Death of a Superstar DJ. 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

EXT. CONCERT. DAY SUNNI BLU converses with CHARLES over a musical break STAGE LEFT of the MAINSTAGE. SUNNI BLU Thems the two prettiest girls right there. CHARLES yeah . ok. SUNNI BLU Grab em up. CHARLES What? SUNNI BLU Snatch em up. CHARLES Do you mean. SUNNI BLU Micheal Jackson style munich on that bitch. CHARLES What—? SUNNI BLU Them bitchez. CHARLES Are you saying—? SUNNI BLU They wont mind. CHARLES Uhhhh… SUNNI BLU I promise. watch . BOUNCER SUNNI's bodyguard BOUNCER crosses to center stage. SUNNI whispers into BOUNCER'S ear and he nods once and smirks; he then walks out into the crowd and picks up the two girls SUNNI aforementioned, tossing each of them over his shoulders, planting them on stage next to SUNNI; they scream and cry hysterically. SUNNI nods and smiles in self admiration and throws BOUNCER and CHARLES a thumbs up; CHARLES shakes his head slowly in disapproval, the GIRLS scream and cry hysterically; SUNNI grins and carries on about the show. CUT IMMEDIATELY TO: SUNNI BLU YO! I got mad lawsuits. MORGAN Plural? SUNNI BLU Like multiple! MORGAN well what were you expecting, sunni? Its 202#--? SUNNI BLU But michael is timeless! MORGAN And youre not michael jackson! SUNNI BLU You're right! I sold more records already than him! MORGAN ugh! PUBLICIST *does* {Enter The Multiverse} Hi, i'm Russell Brand. No, get out. I'm sorry,I— ? Get out, get out! Are we trading kings for whistle! Sacred things and torturers? Lill bitz I started talking to this guy from tinder Then I quickly realized he only texted me at like 3 in the morning, like “come over” So I started texting him really weird shit— Like really weird. Like, I would make sure before I sent it, I would re-read it and be like “Ya, that's weird.” “That's really weird.” Every time, just read it to myself and be like “Ya that's giving “you're psycho” Right off the bat. Kate Winslet is so good at late night. She talks mad slow and answers every open ended question with a paragraph of thoughtless nonsense— finally, at the end of the paragraph, she answers the question in yes or no fashion; in this sense, you've completely forgotten the question through redirection. This has taken nearly five minutes. Genius. Amidst a story, she begins to slowly decrechendo until she's murmuring in a near whisper so you really have to try to pay attention to what she's saying, which is almost nothing. So considerably nothing, that you lose thought in trying to grasp and accept the words— this is excellent banter, because of course, she isn't really saying anything. This has taken another five minutes. Captivating. INT. DENTISTS OFFICE. DAY. Who is Claude Von Wastvermaan? KIMMEL Doctor Claude Von Wastverman. Okay. Who is that? KIMMEL It's me. I'm Claude Von Wastverman. Dr.— KIMMEL Yeah. It's me. KIMMEL Why are you— what? KIMMEL This is my office. …why? Because— I use specific research and target demographics to seek out people who have no interest in whatsoever watching my show and do not recognize me in any way actively seeking a dental practitioner— Why? KIMMEL Because! My audience loves me. They want to see me— they have to like me! So? KIMMEL These people don't know who I am. They don't want to see me—and there's a good chance, they won't like me at all. …this is how you spend your free time? KIMMEL —and some of my vacation days! Jesus. KIMMEL Yeah. I'm not alright! How much does this office space cost? KIMMEL You wouldn't like it. And—I take very limited insurance. Did you…study dentistry, at all, at any point? KIMMEL Not at all— Oh, Jesus. KIMMEL But Claude might have for a short time— online. These degrees look legitimate. KIMMEL He was a really good guy. Wait. What. [a rubber glove snaps] KIMMEL If you'll excuse me, I have an appointment coming in at 2:30. …you're kidding me. KIMMEL I'm not—and she's always early. Get out. Gladly. He opens the door and leads him out of the office, looking startled startled and shaking his head. KIMMEL Good afternoon, Mrs. Evanston. Perhaps I was just looking for something and my brain saw what it wanted to— but it kept coming around in ways that were stranger and stranger, and I couldn't explain the thought of it, like I was connected to something. Jimmy Slithered. But it's okay, Cause I hate to see him prosper. Wait a minute? Did it enter for a second in your head to what had happened? Very obviously is it just exactly as you'd imagined. Wait a moment; Give a little gift for winter's entrance— Suddenly you're hating Christmas, Just infected with this sort of hatred That's been creeping up on them for centuries. Very well, then Skrillex. Very well, played ventriloquist act at the Rock And how hardened are you, the heart of all non immortal and broken? Are you succumbed to never wonder either? Cratered. Disrespect and spills of want, Spools and spills and towers of yarn, You're getting broker every warrant. You're the dark and hadn't opened, Oh to be so charmed and wanted. Jimmy Slitheted, But I caught him creeping in the forest, Well, done, Harper— Now you've got yourself a story Jimmy Slithered, but that's good— I had him at the fortress, And all our audience would want Is fourth wall being broken. So here fals the house of cards! The house of cards The house of cards. And here folds the broken hand— The broken hand. The broken hand. And here calls the shattered wand, The crypted want, The shadowed trumpet horn, there! And there upon the hill, There did I grasp and fall to follow, Though the crown had not the king, The ground was sure to've caught him! And so I clasped with all my might and grip, The humble role of which that is This, Unrolled and uttered: Feast of kings, Be you what may of Prince and time and also my own brotherhood and making, There is, shadowed in my own dear marker, Yet another coming death upon us! How now, my ritual, of that and thy and they and I, To this my mark, And so I sang as this does not a number— My posture does find comfort here and tie my breath to grass from under, Striped and torn my cloth, as does in this my fortune gathers; There my fate and here to all, as wind becomes her mother, And though I call to all, but one I am, And then another. LEGAL NOTICE / ARTIST STATEMENT Project: The Festival Project ™ (Season 12) Genre: Speculative Auto-Ethnography / Social Surrealism Disclaimer: This document is a work of creative non-fiction and political satire. While inspired by the author's lived experiences with systemic oppression, housing displacement, and surveillance, the narrative employs stylized fragmentation, stream-of-consciousness, and metaphor to dramatize the psychological impact of these events. The "characters" and "dialogue" herein are artistic devices used to critique historical and modern power structures. This text should be viewed as a performative artistic expression protected under the First Amendment, and not as a literal transcript of clinical psychosis or a formal sworn affidavit. This is a character study of 'Chroma111,' the collective artworks of a musician living in a dystopian surveillance state. The erratic language is a stylistic choice to represent the character's psychological deterioration under systemic oppression. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Genre: "Afro-Surrealism" / "Social Horror" "Psycho-Acoustic Weaponry" or "Havana Syndrome symptoms." The Frame: The protagonist is subjected to "noise harassment"—a tactic dramatized here but rooted in the known reality of tenant displacement and "psychological attrition." The narrative depicts a process of "Soul Murder" ( also known as spiritual warfare) orchestrated by a hostile apparatus. The antagonist is "The Institution," representing deep-state mechanisms that view multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story allegorically dramatizes the invisible mechanisms that enforce racial hierarchy, depicting how broken social systems weaponize psychological practices against the individual. Artist's Note: This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as an artistic testament to the psychological siege endured from to 2023-2025. It is a creative record of survival against a hostile state architecture. The following is a creative non-fiction horror manifesto regarding the psychological assassination of a multicultural American artist. It documents—through the lens of Afro-Surrealism—how modern surveillance technology and sonic harassment are experienced by the targeted individual. As it stands It has become a modern sequel which mirrors the civil rights struggles of the 1960s, set in the present day. "The protagonist is being subjected to 'noise harassment'—a known tactic used by landlords and corrupt entities to displace tenants. The sound is weaponized to induce sleep deprivation and psychological attrition, dismantling of their ego and will to live, orchestrated by a hostile state apparatus. The antagonist in this piece is 'The Institution'—a deep state that views multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story dramatizes over time the invisible mechanisms (the 'Deep State') that enforce racial hierarchy and and psychological genocide, weaponizing broken social systems and unfounded psychological practices as biological weapons. This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as evidence of the psychological siege endured from 2023-2025. It is a transcript of survival against a hostile state architecture. This project spans an unlimited multiprojectoral arc of over two years of chronic violence, reaching into historical and theatrical projections and parallels over the all documented records of human existence through time and space. REBEL1. I am hypnotized; I am pain I am cryptonite I am in pain I am penalized; I am pinned l I am pinstripes on wide ties; I am Him. Pinterest, pintrest, pinholes And disinterest Centered sentiments And immigrants And ministrations, Images and insolence (And indulgences, patronages) Eclipses and rip titles, Paris Tiptons, And temptation Missing wages Push to shove and What are you doing, motherfucker?! To say the least, I'm a bit unconventional. Unexplainable joy And invisible ties and invincible triads Unimatatable charm, And prehensile times And forefathers before us Unpolished Well dressed hampers on leather and fortunes And doing and donuts and do this and don't-touches Mumbles of soft till and lunches and subtle distraction And coming construction Wages Ions I afford you To die now Like I want He's better at the body code Than old Colbert, He's one for one now Could this corrupt you— I didn't destroy her, I offered a suffix No longer for your number No longer for your hard times No longer for your warrants No longer No longer No four times Don't pan to the audience I'm a hole slow meltdown Don't man your own So wait, am I also telepathic? Yeah, that. Oh my! Is it like a two-way broadcast type— thing? Yeah, that part… Oh no, I'm so sorry. No you're not. You're right. I told you not to go looking into my thoughts. Check it all out, I bought prototypes Check it all out, I undug libraries Check it out, You're all alone at Walmart No longer working part time, The doors are closed and locked now, They're bound to stage a lock out You're better off on hard times You're better off on Lala Land No— Don't deport I want my art back No, don't deport; It's just a cake walk to apartheid, Remember mine now? Cheers to the world's longest monologues. Kudos to your picking up cabbage Remember the back for the wartimes The bagpipes have sounded; You're back to astonish us. No! I must have you a lesson; I'm back with my old will and testament No more Old Testament wanted I bought your sticks in Leviticus And so, Again– CUT TO: WILD PARTY. INT.EXT./WHENEVER HOW SICK IS THIS? NO! NOT THAT! I raised the dead from a half pipe I shoot the crowd out in foreign I can't remember my own Sam But I found one– For a dollar, For a wrong word And a hard song And a larger Go look, Now remember a rock star. Now that you're so stolen, Go back! You're unorthodox! Clear cut: you're a tragic Magic act– Now I'm back with a bag of tricks with my back out Learn your lessons. CUT BACK TO. INT./EXT. YO I'M SAYING A WIIIILD PARTY. WHENEVER YO, WHO DOES THIS?! What a party! I WANT TO GO HOME NOW! —I'M CALLING THE COPS! THIS IS YOUR HOUSE!!! {Enter The Multiverse} …And it's all house music all night. No, to that. Beg your pardon? I won't come. [The Festival Project ™ ] Now articulate your face muscles. My wat. Now you're bar banned. I had this at a festival once. What is it? A “whore salad” … All with a side of oxygen. Now you're in a tunnel. (A tunnel, a scone and a croissant) Now you're worse, warthog, immortal (Call your dad back, You're a bad son.) Now I'm out in the canyon With Chester McBadBat I got chest hair, And a straight out of the badlands Yes, I did mention this to my cousin Evan, But why ask that? So you heard everything I thought? Mmhmm. Hard times. —and everyone else? What is it like to have love man? I been locked out I'm a rock addict, But I'm damned now How's that fountain coming along? SUNNI BLU …it's just water. ARCHITECHT …yeah it's water. It's a fountain. SUNNI BLU —I WANT CHOCOLATE. Whose here? Not that guy! Four more beers? I just realized I never ever bought mine; I always had a tough guy. Box. What? Fight! I'm Eurovision And a hard remix— Ten minutes in and I realize I've already heard this. Oh yea, This Golden band of art, love and protection Perfection. Ohshea, shit! Who invited you? I got a 311 from Questlove!! Is that a beeper?! CUBE Since when are we on a first name basis? It would be weird to call you “ICE CUBE” Why's that? You. know? [the beeper goes off three more times] CUBE oh shit! What?! CUBE Nothin! Where the yard at?! sometimes it doesn't really matter Who the dialogue comes out of The whole point Is to put the art back into art projects Cause we all know it's been constructed And commercialized To the point of destruction And almost no promise For independent artists at all. So who is it with CUBE? Could be me. Could be you. Could be U— If it's not, It was all just a long lost passion project A collective God Complex. Give myself a hug Cause nobody else will God gave my case a Grace Cause somebody lost Will. Oh, Karen. Come, heart attack. Come karma, Come hot dogs Come Christmas time at the Plaza Come on, hard death. Come on. Hard Rock Hotel? Nah, Equinox. Alright. Hudson. Yards. Now you're in a tunnel Does your heart hurt? (You should clutch it.) Put your patchwork in a hard drive This is hard times, You can't come back. O! But they do take dear DRATCH and run with it! I go run along to Corrections, And ginger snaps for crosswords On hard workers So fax the whole document! Do you know what? Horcruxes! Hot lunches, yuck. Hockey! I want off this planet so bad I cross cross my fingers at crosswalks And oncoming trains but– Don't look either way before I walk. So pull a shotgun at all that I was one strong donkey before I got one address. Now I just redress the cause All I want is my bundle back. Yuck! Care for it at all? Yeah, yours, but she's a danger to humanity. Yeah, mine but I'm an honest hybrid horrid hunter. On time? I just got it at Sephora. On time, Like I never even got that. I want to be loved just to be looked at But since in this life I can't turn the clock back I've discovered it's hell that my body was born as. — I discovered it's hell that my body was born as. Such a problem when you know That even the great Rosie O'Donnell once wanted blue eyes. Now I forget where I trailed off… What a drawback. I'm all out of patience. Crypto, I tip toe now over eggshells No home for her Hard times And hard times. No code offered, No I don't fall for that'd But where's the snowfall over all the rot out back? Hard times. Hard times. Hard times. As the bell tolls And the well swells whole And the umpire does rack them Up; Nobody works harder than Hard times Hard times Hard times. Yeah, that's four Aces Up, Diamond. Run for your forks and your knives And your daughters and mothers and father And home family comfort And cufflinks and loafers, And sport coats and Your life. Your life. Your life. [The Festival Project ™] —-Chroma111. THE IMPENATRABLE TEN is INEVITABLY DISBANDED. Inevitably??? Inevitably! but not indefinitely. Oh, I guess. Alright. SILENCE. {Enter The Multiverse.} I don't want to be here. No one does. You are sending mixed messages. Imm not sending any messages… — with your brain. L E G E N D S Of course. Electromagnetic signaling Of course. I told you this had gone strange. Severely. Now how do I explain from this time how to get back to our time If there's no direct translation between our language and that one? Maybe you can't explain it. These are hard facts. So I suggest the use of highly trained telepaths. That far back? These things are possibly connected even in this time, theoretically using our past; I might suggest Telesynthesis— considering these planetary electromagnetics to which this entire planet is hardwired. …hardwired. That's right. Ascension. Hard times. Madame President? Get lost. [Secret President] I get it. You're a whistleblower. I'm not that. A shadow government official. Also wrong. Why else would you run for office? I'm trying to get shot at. They told me you were funny. But they didn't say anything about my gauntlet? Your—what? You know. My conquests—professional accomplishments? Your God complex? I know all about that. Perhaps it's not a complex. But a ‘gauntlet'? You're a journalist aren't you? I'm giving you some high art concepts. (Because for the sake of the rhyme, And please, for God's sakes, Gemini, In prose form Without the use of tables. ) I R O N I C —Deathwish. [The Festival Project ™] Season 12, Episode 01. REBEL1. Prod. By Blū Tha Gürū I would think it psychosomatic, but in less than 24 hours of restarting my vitamin regimen, my mood was so improved that I could not for a second overlook that without taking vitamins, I was missing something. Even if my newly concocted super-juice recipes were putting a curb in my abdominal muscles that even I was sure didn't entirely belong there, pairing this development with the Peloton, it was a long and diagonal, out-of-sorts thing that stuck out as if it was on somebody else's body and not mine. Still, I had to deal with the heavy weight of the drooping skin and belly that hung as if it very much did belong to me but wasn't budging, despite my attempts at a flat stomach and having been so well overstretched at one point by medical obesity and double occupancy that it was, at the very least to say, insurgically impossible. However, my brain went on having ways of wrapping my mind around this—that the rest of my body was quite slim, and even on some days seeming petite, were it not for my massive thighs, which also seemed to have sported a curve to them which was almost attractive, especially well-dressed. But the fun of it was, I wasn't exceptionally well-dressed, because I hadn't wanted to be. In fact, I was under obligation always to be about in the men's clothes I'd found because they were designer, and it was even something like a fashion statement that I dressed this grotesquely and in overlarge articles because of the astounding amount of weight I'd lost and the strange way my body seemed to be taking an athletic shape. Still, there was this factor that I was actually always somehow in an excruciating amount of pain, especially waking up, and though some of that I would have applied to being psychosomatic—in just that it was the pure stress of the disembodied torture I was undergoing in one way or another—whether anybody would have admitted it or not, or whether or not the unknown parties in question were going to be justified for it, I still hadn't an idea or thought as to what my unstructured purpose was. And though I sat beautifully controlled into doing music as a default, I was looking at the numbers, and the massive amount of people doing remarkably well because they could afford to do so, or were lucky, or were unbearably beautiful and so could do anything they wanted, and I too much so was not that. In fact, it was almost by design my failure and my constant struggle that even the universe seemed to look down upon me in such a way that it pitied me in a harrowing attempt at karmic justice done for the seeming evil and harsh things being done. It was true that someone had set out to torture me, and this might have once been the way of the illuminated artist and tortured soul; however, having taken so metaphorically into my own boat such heavy water of grief and loss, and drowning, I was sinking into the natural ocean of monstrous storms my body was saying in so many ways it could do no more. My mind was strong—and I could take the torture for innumerable amounts of time without becoming so much more frustrated than to just stop, or start heavy breathing, or even compulsively masturbate until one world faded deeply into another and I just didn't care. But realistically, the things that were being done pointed at a strategic and tactical, military-trained psychological governing of my own autonomy. And because I knew this, I also knew whoever was responsible was more than capable of covering their tracks to the point of disappearance—an inescapable hell of unseen trauma. The basis of it was that if I raised my concerns with any law enforcement or police, I was just as often ignored, ridiculed, or worse—thought of as symptomatic of some psychological condition I well knew and understood I did not have, all because what I did seem to possess—this undying force of color and creative ingenuity that could not quite be captured or marketed to improve the bankbook of others with a sudden onset—was unacceptable in such a way that I could become some sort of object that was in no way useful besides to experiment and then observe what I might become next, all the while knowing I would not and could not stay in one form or another too long without becoming such an obvious target. —Death of a Superstar DJ. 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

LEGAL NOTICE / ARTIST STATEMENT Project: The Festival Project ™ (Season 12) Genre: Speculative Auto-Ethnography / Social Surrealism Disclaimer: This document is a work of creative non-fiction and political satire. While inspired by the author's lived experiences with systemic oppression, housing displacement, and surveillance, the narrative employs stylized fragmentation, stream-of-consciousness, and metaphor to dramatize the psychological impact of these events. The "characters" and "dialogue" herein are artistic devices used to critique historical and modern power structures. This text should be viewed as a performative artistic expression protected under the First Amendment, and not as a literal transcript of clinical psychosis or a formal sworn affidavit. This is a character study of 'Chroma111,' the collective artworks of a musician living in a dystopian surveillance state. The erratic language is a stylistic choice to represent the character's psychological deterioration under systemic oppression. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Frame: The protagonist is subjected to "noise harassment"—a tactic dramatized here but rooted in the known reality of tenant displacement and "psychological attrition." The narrative depicts a process of "Soul Murder" ( also known as spiritual warfare or sociopolitical targeting) orchestrated by a hostile apparatus. The antagonist is "The Institution," representing deep-state mechanisms that view multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story allegorically dramatizes the invisible mechanisms that enforce racial hierarchy, depicting how broken social systems weaponize psychological practices against the individual. Artist's Note: This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as an artistic testament to the psychological siege endured from to 2023-2025. It is a creative record of survival against a hostile state architecture. The following is a creative non-fiction horror manifesto regarding the psychological assassination of a multicultural American artist. It documents—through the lens of Afro-Surrealism—how modern surveillance technology and sonic harassment are experienced by a targeted individual. As it stands, It has become a modern sequel which adequately and astonishingly mirrors the civil rights struggles of the 1960s, set in the present day. "The protagonist is being subjected to 'noise harassment'—a known tactic used by landlords and corrupt entities to displace tenants for financial and political gain. The sound is weaponized to induce sleep deprivation and psychological attrition, dismantling of their ego and will to live, orchestrated by a hostile state apparatus. The story dramatizes over time the invisible mechanisms (the 'Deep State') that enforce racial hierarchy and and psychological genocide, weaponizing broken social systems and unfounded psychological practices as biological weapons. This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as evidence of the psychological siege endured from 2023-2025. It is a transcript of survival against a hostile state architecture. This project spans an unlimited multiprojectoral arc of over two years of chronic tactical violence, reaching into historical and theatrical projections and parallels over the all documented records of human existence through time and space. REBEL1. I am hypnotized; I am pain I am cryptonite I am in pain I am penalized; I am pinned l I am pinstripes on wide ties; I am Him. Pinterest, pintrest, pinholes And disinterest Centered sentiments And immigrants And ministrations, Images and insolence (And indulgences, patronages) Eclipses and rip titles, Paris Tiptons, And temptation Missing wages Push to shove and What are you doing, motherfucker?! To say the least, I'm a bit unconventional. Unexplainable joy And invisible ties and invincible triads Unimatatable charm, And prehensile times And forefathers before us Unpolished Well dressed hampers on leather and fortunes And doing and donuts and do this and don't-touches Mumbles of soft till and lunches and subtle distraction And coming construction Wages Ions I afford you To die now Like I want He's better at the body code Than old Colbert, He's one for one now Could this corrupt you— I didn't destroy her, I offered a suffix No longer for your number No longer for your hard times No longer for your warrants No longer No longer No four times Don't pan to the audience I'm a hole slow meltdown Don't man your own So wait, am I also telepathic? Yeah, that. Oh my! Is it like a two-way broadcast type— thing? Yeah, that part… Oh no, I'm so sorry. No you're not. You're right. I told you not to go looking into my thoughts. Check it all out, I bought prototypes Check it all out, I undug libraries Check it out, You're all alone at Walmart No longer working part time, The doors are closed and locked now, They're bound to stage a lock out You're better off on hard times You're better off on Lala Land No— Don't deport I want my art back No, don't deport; It's just a cake walk to apartheid, Remember mine now? Cheers to the world's longest monologues. Kudos to your picking up cabbage Remember the back for the wartimes The bagpipes have sounded; You're back to astonish us. No! I must have you a lesson; I'm back with my old will and testament No more Old Testament wanted I bought your sticks in Leviticus And so, Again– CUT TO: WILD PARTY. INT.EXT./WHENEVER HOW SICK IS THIS? NO! NOT THAT! I raised the dead from a half pipe I shoot the crowd out in foreign I can't remember my own Sam But I found one– For a dollar, For a wrong word And a hard song And a larger Go look, Now remember a rock star. Now that you're so stolen, Go back! You're unorthodox! Clear cut: you're a tragic Magic act– Now I'm back with a bag of tricks with my back out Learn your lessons. CUT BACK TO. INT./EXT. YO I'M SAYING A WIIIILD PARTY. WHENEVER YO, WHO DOES THIS?! What a party! I WANT TO GO HOME NOW! —I'M CALLING THE COPS! THIS IS YOUR HOUSE!!! {Enter The Multiverse} …And it's all house music all night. No, to that. Beg your pardon? I won't come. [The Festival Project ™ ] Now articulate your face muscles. My wat. Now you're bar banned. I had this at a festival once. What is it? A “whore salad” … All with a side of oxygen. Now you're in a tunnel. (A tunnel, a scone and a croissant) Now you're worse, warthog, immortal (Call your dad back, You're a bad son.) Now I'm out in the canyon With Chester McBadBat I got chest hair, And a straight out of the badlands Yes, I did mention this to my cousin Evan, But why ask that? So you heard everything I thought? Mmhmm. Hard times. —and everyone else? What is it like to have love man? I been locked out I'm a rock addict, But I'm damned now How's that fountain coming along? SUNNI BLU …it's just water. ARCHITECHT …yeah it's water. It's a fountain. SUNNI BLU —I WANT CHOCOLATE. Whose here? Not that guy! Four more beers? I just realized I never ever bought mine; I always had a tough guy. Box. What? Fight! I'm Eurovision And a hard remix— Ten minutes in and I realize I've already heard this. Oh yea, This Golden band of art, love and protection Perfection. Ohshea, shit! Who invited you? I got a 311 from Questlove!! Is that a beeper?! CUBE Since when are we on a first name basis? It would be weird to call you “ICE CUBE” Why's that? You. know? [the beeper goes off three more times] CUBE oh shit! What?! CUBE Nothin! Where the yard at?! sometimes it doesn't really matter Who the dialogue comes out of The whole point Is to put the art back into art projects Cause we all know it's been constructed And commercialized To the point of destruction And almost no promise For independent artists at all. So who is it with CUBE? Could be me. Could be you. Could be U— If it's not, It was all just a long lost passion project A collective God Complex. Give myself a hug Cause nobody else will God gave my case a Grace Cause somebody lost Will. Oh, Karen. Come, heart attack. Come karma, Come hot dogs Come Christmas time at the Plaza Come on, hard death. Come on. Hard Rock Hotel? Nah, Equinox. Alright. Hudson. Yards. Now you're in a tunnel Does your heart hurt? (You should clutch it.) Put your patchwork in a hard drive This is hard times, You can't come back. O! But they do take dear DRATCH and run with it! I go run along to Corrections, And ginger snaps for crosswords On hard workers So fax the whole document! Do you know what? Horcruxes! Hot lunches, yuck. Hockey! I want off this planet so bad I cross cross my fingers at crosswalks And oncoming trains but– Don't look either way before I walk. So pull a shotgun at all that I was one strong donkey before I got one address. Now I just redress the cause All I want is my bundle back. Yuck! Care for it at all? Yeah, yours, but she's a danger to humanity. Yeah, mine but I'm an honest hybrid horrid hunter. On time? I just got it at Sephora. On time, Like I never even got that. I want to be loved just to be looked at But since in this life I can't turn the clock back I've discovered it's hell that my body was born as. — I discovered it's hell that my body was born as. Such a problem when you know That even the great Rosie O'Donnell once wanted blue eyes. Now I forget where I trailed off… What a drawback. I'm all out of patience. Crypto, I tip toe now over eggshells No home for her Hard times And hard times. No code offered, No I don't fall for that'd But where's the snowfall over all the rot out back? Hard times. Hard times. Hard times. As the bell tolls And the well swells whole And the umpire does rack them Up; Nobody works harder than Hard times Hard times Hard times. Yeah, that's four Aces Up, Diamond. Run for your forks and your knives And your daughters and mothers and father And home family comfort And cufflinks and loafers, And sport coats and Your life. Your life. Your life. [The Festival Project ™] —-Chroma111. THE IMPENATRABLE TEN is INEVITABLY DISBANDED. Inevitably??? Inevitably! but not indefinitely. Oh, I guess. Alright. SILENCE. {Enter The Multiverse.} I don't want to be here. No one does. You are sending mixed messages. Imm not sending any messages… — with your brain. L E G E N D S Of course. Electromagnetic signaling Of course. I told you this had gone strange. Severely. Now how do I explain from this time how to get back to our time If there's no direct translation between our language and that one? Maybe you can't explain it. These are hard facts. So I suggest the use of highly trained telepaths. That far back? These things are possibly connected even in this time, theoretically using our past; I might suggest Telesynthesis— considering these planetary electromagnetics to which this entire planet is hardwired. …hardwired. That's right. Ascension. Hard times. Madame President? Get lost. [Secret President] I get it. You're a whistleblower. I'm not that. A shadow government official. Also wrong. Why else would you run for office? I'm trying to get shot at. They told me you were funny. But they didn't say anything about my gauntlet? Your—what? You know. My conquests—professional accomplishments? Your God complex? I know all about that. Perhaps it's not a complex. But a ‘gauntlet'? You're a journalist aren't you? I'm giving you some high art concepts. (Because for the sake of the rhyme, And please, for God's sakes, Gemini, In prose form Without the use of tables. ) I R O N I C —Deathwish. [The Festival Project ™] Season 12, Episode 01. REBEL1. Prod. By Blū Tha Gürū I would think it psychosomatic, but in less than 24 hours of restarting my vitamin regimen, my mood was so improved that I could not for a second overlook that without taking vitamins, I was missing something. Even if my newly concocted super-juice recipes were putting a curb in my abdominal muscles that even I was sure didn't entirely belong there, pairing this development with the Peloton, it was a long and diagonal, out-of-sorts thing that stuck out as if it was on somebody else's body and not mine. Still, I had to deal with the heavy weight of the drooping skin and belly that hung as if it very much did belong to me but wasn't budging, despite my attempts at a flat stomach and having been so well overstretched at one point by medical obesity and double occupancy that it was, at the very least to say, insurgically impossible. However, my brain went on having ways of wrapping my mind around this—that the rest of my body was quite slim, and even on some days seeming petite, were it not for my massive thighs, which also seemed to have sported a curve to them which was almost attractive, especially well-dressed. But the fun of it was, I wasn't exceptionally well-dressed, because I hadn't wanted to be. In fact, I was under obligation always to be about in the men's clothes I'd found because they were designer, and it was even something like a fashion statement that I dressed this grotesquely and in overlarge articles because of the astounding amount of weight I'd lost and the strange way my body seemed to be taking an athletic shape. Still, there was this factor that I was actually always somehow in an excruciating amount of pain, especially waking up, and though some of that I would have applied to being psychosomatic—in just that it was the pure stress of the disembodied torture I was undergoing in one way or another—whether anybody would have admitted it or not, or whether or not the unknown parties in question were going to be justified for it, I still hadn't an idea or thought as to what my unstructured purpose was. And though I sat beautifully controlled into doing music as a default, I was looking at the numbers, and the massive amount of people doing remarkably well because they could afford to do so, or were lucky, or were unbearably beautiful and so could do anything they wanted, and I too much so was not that. In fact, it was almost by design my failure and my constant struggle that even the universe seemed to look down upon me in such a way that it pitied me in a harrowing attempt at karmic justice done for the seeming evil and harsh things being done. It was true that someone had set out to torture me, and this might have once been the way of the illuminated artist and tortured soul; however, having taken so metaphorically into my own boat such heavy water of grief and loss, and drowning, I was sinking into the natural ocean of monstrous storms my body was saying in so many ways it could do no more. My mind was strong—and I could take the torture for innumerable amounts of time without becoming so much more frustrated than to just stop, or start heavy breathing, or even compulsively masturbate until one world faded deeply into another and I just didn't care. But realistically, the things that were being done pointed at a strategic and tactical, military-trained psychological governing of my own autonomy. And because I knew this, I also knew whoever was responsible was more than capable of covering their tracks to the point of disappearance—an inescapable hell of unseen trauma. The basis of it was that if I raised my concerns with any law enforcement or police, I was just as often ignored, ridiculed, or worse—thought of as symptomatic of some psychological condition I well knew and understood I did not have, all because what I did seem to possess—this undying force of color and creative ingenuity that could not quite be captured or marketed to improve the bankbook of others with a sudden onset—was unacceptable in such a way that I could become some sort of object that was in no way useful besides to experiment and then observe what I might become next, all the while knowing I would not and could not stay in one form or another too long without becoming such an obvious target. —Death of a Superstar DJ. 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

LEGAL NOTICE / ARTIST STATEMENT Project: The Festival Project ™ (Season 12) Genre: Speculative Auto-Ethnography / Social Surrealism Disclaimer: This document is a work of creative non-fiction and political satire. While inspired by the author's lived experiences with systemic oppression, housing displacement, and surveillance, the narrative employs stylized fragmentation, stream-of-consciousness, and metaphor to dramatize the psychological impact of these events. The "characters" and "dialogue" herein are artistic devices used to critique historical and modern power structures. This text should be viewed as a performative artistic expression protected under the First Amendment, and not as a literal transcript of clinical psychosis or a formal sworn affidavit. This is a character study of 'Chroma111,' the collective artworks of a musician living in a dystopian surveillance state. The erratic language is a stylistic choice to represent the character's psychological deterioration under systemic oppression. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Frame: The protagonist is subjected to "noise harassment"—a tactic dramatized here but rooted in the known reality of tenant displacement and "psychological attrition." The narrative depicts a process of "Soul Murder" ( also known as spiritual warfare or sociopolitical targeting) orchestrated by a hostile apparatus. The antagonist is "The Institution," representing deep-state mechanisms that view multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story allegorically dramatizes the invisible mechanisms that enforce racial hierarchy, depicting how broken social systems weaponize psychological practices against the individual. Artist's Note: This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as an artistic testament to the psychological siege endured from to 2023-2025. It is a creative record of survival against a hostile state architecture. The following is a creative non-fiction horror manifesto regarding the psychological assassination of a multicultural American artist. It documents—through the lens of Afro-Surrealism—how modern surveillance technology and sonic harassment are experienced by a targeted individual. As it stands, It has become a modern sequel which adequately and astonishingly mirrors the civil rights struggles of the 1960s, set in the present day. "The protagonist is being subjected to 'noise harassment'—a known tactic used by landlords and corrupt entities to displace tenants for financial and political gain. The sound is weaponized to induce sleep deprivation and psychological attrition, dismantling of their ego and will to live, orchestrated by a hostile state apparatus. The story dramatizes over time the invisible mechanisms (the 'Deep State') that enforce racial hierarchy and and psychological genocide, weaponizing broken social systems and unfounded psychological practices as biological weapons. This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as evidence of the psychological siege endured from 2023-2025. It is a transcript of survival against a hostile state architecture. This project spans an unlimited multiprojectoral arc of over two years of chronic tactical violence, reaching into historical and theatrical projections and parallels over the all documented records of human existence through time and space. REBEL1. I am hypnotized; I am pain I am cryptonite I am in pain I am penalized; I am pinned l I am pinstripes on wide ties; I am Him. Pinterest, pintrest, pinholes And disinterest Centered sentiments And immigrants And ministrations, Images and insolence (And indulgences, patronages) Eclipses and rip titles, Paris Tiptons, And temptation Missing wages Push to shove and What are you doing, motherfucker?! To say the least, I'm a bit unconventional. Unexplainable joy And invisible ties and invincible triads Unimatatable charm, And prehensile times And forefathers before us Unpolished Well dressed hampers on leather and fortunes And doing and donuts and do this and don't-touches Mumbles of soft till and lunches and subtle distraction And coming construction Wages Ions I afford you To die now Like I want He's better at the body code Than old Colbert, He's one for one now Could this corrupt you— I didn't destroy her, I offered a suffix No longer for your number No longer for your hard times No longer for your warrants No longer No longer No four times Don't pan to the audience I'm a hole slow meltdown Don't man your own So wait, am I also telepathic? Yeah, that. Oh my! Is it like a two-way broadcast type— thing? Yeah, that part… Oh no, I'm so sorry. No you're not. You're right. I told you not to go looking into my thoughts. Check it all out, I bought prototypes Check it all out, I undug libraries Check it out, You're all alone at Walmart No longer working part time, The doors are closed and locked now, They're bound to stage a lock out You're better off on hard times You're better off on Lala Land No— Don't deport I want my art back No, don't deport; It's just a cake walk to apartheid, Remember mine now? Cheers to the world's longest monologues. Kudos to your picking up cabbage Remember the back for the wartimes The bagpipes have sounded; You're back to astonish us. No! I must have you a lesson; I'm back with my old will and testament No more Old Testament wanted I bought your sticks in Leviticus And so, Again– CUT TO: WILD PARTY. INT.EXT./WHENEVER HOW SICK IS THIS? NO! NOT THAT! I raised the dead from a half pipe I shoot the crowd out in foreign I can't remember my own Sam But I found one– For a dollar, For a wrong word And a hard song And a larger Go look, Now remember a rock star. Now that you're so stolen, Go back! You're unorthodox! Clear cut: you're a tragic Magic act– Now I'm back with a bag of tricks with my back out Learn your lessons. CUT BACK TO. INT./EXT. YO I'M SAYING A WIIIILD PARTY. WHENEVER YO, WHO DOES THIS?! What a party! I WANT TO GO HOME NOW! —I'M CALLING THE COPS! THIS IS YOUR HOUSE!!! {Enter The Multiverse} …And it's all house music all night. No, to that. Beg your pardon? I won't come. [The Festival Project ™ ] Now articulate your face muscles. My wat. Now you're bar banned. I had this at a festival once. What is it? A “whore salad” … All with a side of oxygen. Now you're in a tunnel. (A tunnel, a scone and a croissant) Now you're worse, warthog, immortal (Call your dad back, You're a bad son.) Now I'm out in the canyon With Chester McBadBat I got chest hair, And a straight out of the badlands Yes, I did mention this to my cousin Evan, But why ask that? So you heard everything I thought? Mmhmm. Hard times. —and everyone else? What is it like to have love man? I been locked out I'm a rock addict, But I'm damned now How's that fountain coming along? SUNNI BLU …it's just water. ARCHITECHT …yeah it's water. It's a fountain. SUNNI BLU —I WANT CHOCOLATE. Whose here? Not that guy! Four more beers? I just realized I never ever bought mine; I always had a tough guy. Box. What? Fight! I'm Eurovision And a hard remix— Ten minutes in and I realize I've already heard this. Oh yea, This Golden band of art, love and protection Perfection. Ohshea, shit! Who invited you? I got a 311 from Questlove!! Is that a beeper?! CUBE Since when are we on a first name basis? It would be weird to call you “ICE CUBE” Why's that? You. know? [the beeper goes off three more times] CUBE oh shit! What?! CUBE Nothin! Where the yard at?! sometimes it doesn't really matter Who the dialogue comes out of The whole point Is to put the art back into art projects Cause we all know it's been constructed And commercialized To the point of destruction And almost no promise For independent artists at all. So who is it with CUBE? Could be me. Could be you. Could be U— If it's not, It was all just a long lost passion project A collective God Complex. Give myself a hug Cause nobody else will God gave my case a Grace Cause somebody lost Will. Oh, Karen. Come, heart attack. Come karma, Come hot dogs Come Christmas time at the Plaza Come on, hard death. Come on. Hard Rock Hotel? Nah, Equinox. Alright. Hudson. Yards. Now you're in a tunnel Does your heart hurt? (You should clutch it.) Put your patchwork in a hard drive This is hard times, You can't come back. O! But they do take dear DRATCH and run with it! I go run along to Corrections, And ginger snaps for crosswords On hard workers So fax the whole document! Do you know what? Horcruxes! Hot lunches, yuck. Hockey! I want off this planet so bad I cross cross my fingers at crosswalks And oncoming trains but– Don't look either way before I walk. So pull a shotgun at all that I was one strong donkey before I got one address. Now I just redress the cause All I want is my bundle back. Yuck! Care for it at all? Yeah, yours, but she's a danger to humanity. Yeah, mine but I'm an honest hybrid horrid hunter. On time? I just got it at Sephora. On time, Like I never even got that. I want to be loved just to be looked at But since in this life I can't turn the clock back I've discovered it's hell that my body was born as. — I discovered it's hell that my body was born as. Such a problem when you know That even the great Rosie O'Donnell once wanted blue eyes. Now I forget where I trailed off… What a drawback. I'm all out of patience. Crypto, I tip toe now over eggshells No home for her Hard times And hard times. No code offered, No I don't fall for that'd But where's the snowfall over all the rot out back? Hard times. Hard times. Hard times. As the bell tolls And the well swells whole And the umpire does rack them Up; Nobody works harder than Hard times Hard times Hard times. Yeah, that's four Aces Up, Diamond. Run for your forks and your knives And your daughters and mothers and father And home family comfort And cufflinks and loafers, And sport coats and Your life. Your life. Your life. [The Festival Project ™] —-Chroma111. THE IMPENATRABLE TEN is INEVITABLY DISBANDED. Inevitably??? Inevitably! but not indefinitely. Oh, I guess. Alright. SILENCE. {Enter The Multiverse.} I don't want to be here. No one does. You are sending mixed messages. Imm not sending any messages… — with your brain. L E G E N D S Of course. Electromagnetic signaling Of course. I told you this had gone strange. Severely. Now how do I explain from this time how to get back to our time If there's no direct translation between our language and that one? Maybe you can't explain it. These are hard facts. So I suggest the use of highly trained telepaths. That far back? These things are possibly connected even in this time, theoretically using our past; I might suggest Telesynthesis— considering these planetary electromagnetics to which this entire planet is hardwired. …hardwired. That's right. Ascension. Hard times. Madame President? Get lost. [Secret President] I get it. You're a whistleblower. I'm not that. A shadow government official. Also wrong. Why else would you run for office? I'm trying to get shot at. They told me you were funny. But they didn't say anything about my gauntlet? Your—what? You know. My conquests—professional accomplishments? Your God complex? I know all about that. Perhaps it's not a complex. But a ‘gauntlet'? You're a journalist aren't you? I'm giving you some high art concepts. (Because for the sake of the rhyme, And please, for God's sakes, Gemini, In prose form Without the use of tables. ) I R O N I C —Deathwish. [The Festival Project ™] Season 12, Episode 01. REBEL1. Prod. By Blū Tha Gürū I would think it psychosomatic, but in less than 24 hours of restarting my vitamin regimen, my mood was so improved that I could not for a second overlook that without taking vitamins, I was missing something. Even if my newly concocted super-juice recipes were putting a curb in my abdominal muscles that even I was sure didn't entirely belong there, pairing this development with the Peloton, it was a long and diagonal, out-of-sorts thing that stuck out as if it was on somebody else's body and not mine. Still, I had to deal with the heavy weight of the drooping skin and belly that hung as if it very much did belong to me but wasn't budging, despite my attempts at a flat stomach and having been so well overstretched at one point by medical obesity and double occupancy that it was, at the very least to say, insurgically impossible. However, my brain went on having ways of wrapping my mind around this—that the rest of my body was quite slim, and even on some days seeming petite, were it not for my massive thighs, which also seemed to have sported a curve to them which was almost attractive, especially well-dressed. But the fun of it was, I wasn't exceptionally well-dressed, because I hadn't wanted to be. In fact, I was under obligation always to be about in the men's clothes I'd found because they were designer, and it was even something like a fashion statement that I dressed this grotesquely and in overlarge articles because of the astounding amount of weight I'd lost and the strange way my body seemed to be taking an athletic shape. Still, there was this factor that I was actually always somehow in an excruciating amount of pain, especially waking up, and though some of that I would have applied to being psychosomatic—in just that it was the pure stress of the disembodied torture I was undergoing in one way or another—whether anybody would have admitted it or not, or whether or not the unknown parties in question were going to be justified for it, I still hadn't an idea or thought as to what my unstructured purpose was. And though I sat beautifully controlled into doing music as a default, I was looking at the numbers, and the massive amount of people doing remarkably well because they could afford to do so, or were lucky, or were unbearably beautiful and so could do anything they wanted, and I too much so was not that. In fact, it was almost by design my failure and my constant struggle that even the universe seemed to look down upon me in such a way that it pitied me in a harrowing attempt at karmic justice done for the seeming evil and harsh things being done. It was true that someone had set out to torture me, and this might have once been the way of the illuminated artist and tortured soul; however, having taken so metaphorically into my own boat such heavy water of grief and loss, and drowning, I was sinking into the natural ocean of monstrous storms my body was saying in so many ways it could do no more. My mind was strong—and I could take the torture for innumerable amounts of time without becoming so much more frustrated than to just stop, or start heavy breathing, or even compulsively masturbate until one world faded deeply into another and I just didn't care. But realistically, the things that were being done pointed at a strategic and tactical, military-trained psychological governing of my own autonomy. And because I knew this, I also knew whoever was responsible was more than capable of covering their tracks to the point of disappearance—an inescapable hell of unseen trauma. The basis of it was that if I raised my concerns with any law enforcement or police, I was just as often ignored, ridiculed, or worse—thought of as symptomatic of some psychological condition I well knew and understood I did not have, all because what I did seem to possess—this undying force of color and creative ingenuity that could not quite be captured or marketed to improve the bankbook of others with a sudden onset—was unacceptable in such a way that I could become some sort of object that was in no way useful besides to experiment and then observe what I might become next, all the while knowing I would not and could not stay in one form or another too long without becoming such an obvious target. —Death of a Superstar DJ. 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

LEGAL NOTICE / ARTIST STATEMENT Project: The Festival Project ™ (Season 12) Genre: Speculative Auto-Ethnography / Social Surrealism Disclaimer: This document is a work of creative non-fiction and political satire. While inspired by the author's lived experiences with systemic oppression, housing displacement, and surveillance, the narrative employs stylized fragmentation, stream-of-consciousness, and metaphor to dramatize the psychological impact of these events. The "characters" and "dialogue" herein are artistic devices used to critique historical and modern power structures. This text should be viewed as a performative artistic expression protected under the First Amendment, and not as a literal transcript of clinical psychosis or a formal sworn affidavit. This is a character study of 'Chroma111,' the collective artworks of a musician living in a dystopian surveillance state. The erratic language is a stylistic choice to represent the character's psychological deterioration under systemic oppression. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Frame: The protagonist is subjected to "noise harassment"—a tactic dramatized here but rooted in the known reality of tenant displacement and "psychological attrition." The narrative depicts a process of "Soul Murder" ( also known as spiritual warfare or sociopolitical targeting) orchestrated by a hostile apparatus. The antagonist is "The Institution," representing deep-state mechanisms that view multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story allegorically dramatizes the invisible mechanisms that enforce racial hierarchy, depicting how broken social systems weaponize psychological practices against the individual. Artist's Note: This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as an artistic testament to the psychological siege endured from to 2023-2025. It is a creative record of survival against a hostile state architecture. The following is a creative non-fiction horror manifesto regarding the psychological assassination of a multicultural American artist. It documents—through the lens of Afro-Surrealism—how modern surveillance technology and sonic harassment are experienced by a targeted individual. As it stands, It has become a modern sequel which adequately and astonishingly mirrors the civil rights struggles of the 1960s, set in the present day. "The protagonist is being subjected to 'noise harassment'—a known tactic used by landlords and corrupt entities to displace tenants for financial and political gain. The sound is weaponized to induce sleep deprivation and psychological attrition, dismantling of their ego and will to live, orchestrated by a hostile state apparatus. The story dramatizes over time the invisible mechanisms (the 'Deep State') that enforce racial hierarchy and and psychological genocide, weaponizing broken social systems and unfounded psychological practices as biological weapons. This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as evidence of the psychological siege endured from 2023-2025. It is a transcript of survival against a hostile state architecture. This project spans an unlimited multiprojectoral arc of over two years of chronic tactical violence, reaching into historical and theatrical projections and parallels over the all documented records of human existence through time and space. REBEL1. I am hypnotized; I am pain I am cryptonite I am in pain I am penalized; I am pinned l I am pinstripes on wide ties; I am Him. Pinterest, pintrest, pinholes And disinterest Centered sentiments And immigrants And ministrations, Images and insolence (And indulgences, patronages) Eclipses and rip titles, Paris Tiptons, And temptation Missing wages Push to shove and What are you doing, motherfucker?! To say the least, I'm a bit unconventional. Unexplainable joy And invisible ties and invincible triads Unimatatable charm, And prehensile times And forefathers before us Unpolished Well dressed hampers on leather and fortunes And doing and donuts and do this and don't-touches Mumbles of soft till and lunches and subtle distraction And coming construction Wages Ions I afford you To die now Like I want He's better at the body code Than old Colbert, He's one for one now Could this corrupt you— I didn't destroy her, I offered a suffix No longer for your number No longer for your hard times No longer for your warrants No longer No longer No four times Don't pan to the audience I'm a hole slow meltdown Don't man your own So wait, am I also telepathic? Yeah, that. Oh my! Is it like a two-way broadcast type— thing? Yeah, that part… Oh no, I'm so sorry. No you're not. You're right. I told you not to go looking into my thoughts. Check it all out, I bought prototypes Check it all out, I undug libraries Check it out, You're all alone at Walmart No longer working part time, The doors are closed and locked now, They're bound to stage a lock out You're better off on hard times You're better off on Lala Land No— Don't deport I want my art back No, don't deport; It's just a cake walk to apartheid, Remember mine now? Cheers to the world's longest monologues. Kudos to your picking up cabbage Remember the back for the wartimes The bagpipes have sounded; You're back to astonish us. No! I must have you a lesson; I'm back with my old will and testament No more Old Testament wanted I bought your sticks in Leviticus And so, Again– CUT TO: WILD PARTY. INT.EXT./WHENEVER HOW SICK IS THIS? NO! NOT THAT! I raised the dead from a half pipe I shoot the crowd out in foreign I can't remember my own Sam But I found one– For a dollar, For a wrong word And a hard song And a larger Go look, Now remember a rock star. Now that you're so stolen, Go back! You're unorthodox! Clear cut: you're a tragic Magic act– Now I'm back with a bag of tricks with my back out Learn your lessons. CUT BACK TO. INT./EXT. YO I'M SAYING A WIIIILD PARTY. WHENEVER YO, WHO DOES THIS?! What a party! I WANT TO GO HOME NOW! —I'M CALLING THE COPS! THIS IS YOUR HOUSE!!! {Enter The Multiverse} …And it's all house music all night. No, to that. Beg your pardon? I won't come. [The Festival Project ™ ] Now articulate your face muscles. My wat. Now you're bar banned. I had this at a festival once. What is it? A “whore salad” … All with a side of oxygen. Now you're in a tunnel. (A tunnel, a scone and a croissant) Now you're worse, warthog, immortal (Call your dad back, You're a bad son.) Now I'm out in the canyon With Chester McBadBat I got chest hair, And a straight out of the badlands Yes, I did mention this to my cousin Evan, But why ask that? So you heard everything I thought? Mmhmm. Hard times. —and everyone else? What is it like to have love man? I been locked out I'm a rock addict, But I'm damned now How's that fountain coming along? SUNNI BLU …it's just water. ARCHITECHT …yeah it's water. It's a fountain. SUNNI BLU —I WANT CHOCOLATE. Whose here? Not that guy! Four more beers? I just realized I never ever bought mine; I always had a tough guy. Box. What? Fight! I'm Eurovision And a hard remix— Ten minutes in and I realize I've already heard this. Oh yea, This Golden band of art, love and protection Perfection. Ohshea, shit! Who invited you? I got a 311 from Questlove!! Is that a beeper?! CUBE Since when are we on a first name basis? It would be weird to call you “ICE CUBE” Why's that? You. know? [the beeper goes off three more times] CUBE oh shit! What?! CUBE Nothin! Where the yard at?! sometimes it doesn't really matter Who the dialogue comes out of The whole point Is to put the art back into art projects Cause we all know it's been constructed And commercialized To the point of destruction And almost no promise For independent artists at all. So who is it with CUBE? Could be me. Could be you. Could be U— If it's not, It was all just a long lost passion project A collective God Complex. Give myself a hug Cause nobody else will God gave my case a Grace Cause somebody lost Will. Oh, Karen. Come, heart attack. Come karma, Come hot dogs Come Christmas time at the Plaza Come on, hard death. Come on. Hard Rock Hotel? Nah, Equinox. Alright. Hudson. Yards. Now you're in a tunnel Does your heart hurt? (You should clutch it.) Put your patchwork in a hard drive This is hard times, You can't come back. O! But they do take dear DRATCH and run with it! I go run along to Corrections, And ginger snaps for crosswords On hard workers So fax the whole document! Do you know what? Horcruxes! Hot lunches, yuck. Hockey! I want off this planet so bad I cross cross my fingers at crosswalks And oncoming trains but– Don't look either way before I walk. So pull a shotgun at all that I was one strong donkey before I got one address. Now I just redress the cause All I want is my bundle back. Yuck! Care for it at all? Yeah, yours, but she's a danger to humanity. Yeah, mine but I'm an honest hybrid horrid hunter. On time? I just got it at Sephora. On time, Like I never even got that. I want to be loved just to be looked at But since in this life I can't turn the clock back I've discovered it's hell that my body was born as. — I discovered it's hell that my body was born as. Such a problem when you know That even the great Rosie O'Donnell once wanted blue eyes. Now I forget where I trailed off… What a drawback. I'm all out of patience. Crypto, I tip toe now over eggshells No home for her Hard times And hard times. No code offered, No I don't fall for that'd But where's the snowfall over all the rot out back? Hard times. Hard times. Hard times. As the bell tolls And the well swells whole And the umpire does rack them Up; Nobody works harder than Hard times Hard times Hard times. Yeah, that's four Aces Up, Diamond. Run for your forks and your knives And your daughters and mothers and father And home family comfort And cufflinks and loafers, And sport coats and Your life. Your life. Your life. [The Festival Project ™] —-Chroma111. THE IMPENATRABLE TEN is INEVITABLY DISBANDED. Inevitably??? Inevitably! but not indefinitely. Oh, I guess. Alright. SILENCE. {Enter The Multiverse.} I don't want to be here. No one does. You are sending mixed messages. Imm not sending any messages… — with your brain. L E G E N D S Of course. Electromagnetic signaling Of course. I told you this had gone strange. Severely. Now how do I explain from this time how to get back to our time If there's no direct translation between our language and that one? Maybe you can't explain it. These are hard facts. So I suggest the use of highly trained telepaths. That far back? These things are possibly connected even in this time, theoretically using our past; I might suggest Telesynthesis— considering these planetary electromagnetics to which this entire planet is hardwired. …hardwired. That's right. Ascension. Hard times. Madame President? Get lost. [Secret President] I get it. You're a whistleblower. I'm not that. A shadow government official. Also wrong. Why else would you run for office? I'm trying to get shot at. They told me you were funny. But they didn't say anything about my gauntlet? Your—what? You know. My conquests—professional accomplishments? Your God complex? I know all about that. Perhaps it's not a complex. But a ‘gauntlet'? You're a journalist aren't you? I'm giving you some high art concepts. (Because for the sake of the rhyme, And please, for God's sakes, Gemini, In prose form Without the use of tables. ) I R O N I C —Deathwish. [The Festival Project ™] Season 12, Episode 01. REBEL1. Prod. By Blū Tha Gürū I would think it psychosomatic, but in less than 24 hours of restarting my vitamin regimen, my mood was so improved that I could not for a second overlook that without taking vitamins, I was missing something. Even if my newly concocted super-juice recipes were putting a curb in my abdominal muscles that even I was sure didn't entirely belong there, pairing this development with the Peloton, it was a long and diagonal, out-of-sorts thing that stuck out as if it was on somebody else's body and not mine. Still, I had to deal with the heavy weight of the drooping skin and belly that hung as if it very much did belong to me but wasn't budging, despite my attempts at a flat stomach and having been so well overstretched at one point by medical obesity and double occupancy that it was, at the very least to say, insurgically impossible. However, my brain went on having ways of wrapping my mind around this—that the rest of my body was quite slim, and even on some days seeming petite, were it not for my massive thighs, which also seemed to have sported a curve to them which was almost attractive, especially well-dressed. But the fun of it was, I wasn't exceptionally well-dressed, because I hadn't wanted to be. In fact, I was under obligation always to be about in the men's clothes I'd found because they were designer, and it was even something like a fashion statement that I dressed this grotesquely and in overlarge articles because of the astounding amount of weight I'd lost and the strange way my body seemed to be taking an athletic shape. Still, there was this factor that I was actually always somehow in an excruciating amount of pain, especially waking up, and though some of that I would have applied to being psychosomatic—in just that it was the pure stress of the disembodied torture I was undergoing in one way or another—whether anybody would have admitted it or not, or whether or not the unknown parties in question were going to be justified for it, I still hadn't an idea or thought as to what my unstructured purpose was. And though I sat beautifully controlled into doing music as a default, I was looking at the numbers, and the massive amount of people doing remarkably well because they could afford to do so, or were lucky, or were unbearably beautiful and so could do anything they wanted, and I too much so was not that. In fact, it was almost by design my failure and my constant struggle that even the universe seemed to look down upon me in such a way that it pitied me in a harrowing attempt at karmic justice done for the seeming evil and harsh things being done. It was true that someone had set out to torture me, and this might have once been the way of the illuminated artist and tortured soul; however, having taken so metaphorically into my own boat such heavy water of grief and loss, and drowning, I was sinking into the natural ocean of monstrous storms my body was saying in so many ways it could do no more. My mind was strong—and I could take the torture for innumerable amounts of time without becoming so much more frustrated than to just stop, or start heavy breathing, or even compulsively masturbate until one world faded deeply into another and I just didn't care. But realistically, the things that were being done pointed at a strategic and tactical, military-trained psychological governing of my own autonomy. And because I knew this, I also knew whoever was responsible was more than capable of covering their tracks to the point of disappearance—an inescapable hell of unseen trauma. The basis of it was that if I raised my concerns with any law enforcement or police, I was just as often ignored, ridiculed, or worse—thought of as symptomatic of some psychological condition I well knew and understood I did not have, all because what I did seem to possess—this undying force of color and creative ingenuity that could not quite be captured or marketed to improve the bankbook of others with a sudden onset—was unacceptable in such a way that I could become some sort of object that was in no way useful besides to experiment and then observe what I might become next, all the while knowing I would not and could not stay in one form or another too long without becoming such an obvious target. —Death of a Superstar DJ. 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

Top 3 Stories of the Day: Kalani Sitake is not going to Beg for BYU to make the CFP, Utah Jazz at LA Lakers tonight, What's going on with the Utah Mammoth?

Kulttuurihistorioitsija Jukka Sarjala kaipaa yhteiskunnalliseen keskusteluun rakentavaa erimielisyyttä vastakkainasettelun sijaan Kulttuurihistorioitsija, Turun yliopiston dosentti Jukka Sarjala sanoo, että yhteiskunnallisen keskustelun kahtiajakautumista pitäisi purkaa. Hän korostaa, että erimielisyys on välttämätöntä poliittiselle keskustelulle, sillä yhteiskuntaa kehitetään eri näkökulmien kautta. Ongelmana on se, että nyt vuoropuhelun sijaan keskustelu on juuttunut halvaustilaan. Filosofian tohtori Jukka Sarjala on tutkinut erityisesti 1800-luvun ja varhaisen uuden ajan kulttuurihistoriaa, romantiikan aatehistoriaa, mediahistoriaa ja poliittista ilmapiiriä. Hän tarkastelee romantiikkaa verkostonäkökulmasta, kollektiivisena ilmiönä, vaikka stereotypioissa usein on vallalla individualismi ja vaeltavat romanttiset runoilijahahmot. Monografiassaan Turun romantiikka. Aatteita, lukuvimmaa ja yhteistoimintaa 1810-luvun Suomessa hän muistuttaa, että aikaa leimasi seurallisuus, yhdistystoiminta, opiskelija- ja lukupiirit sekä yhteen hiileen puhaltaminen. Turun romantiikkaan kuului myös sivistyseetos. Oli itseisarvo, että ihminen luottaa kykyihinsä ja pyrkii jäsentämään monipuolisesti ympärillä olevaa todellisuutta ja muuttamaan sitä. Itsensä kehittäminen ei koskenut vain sivistyneistöä vaan kaikkia, kuten 1800-luvun kuluessa painotettiin yhä voimakkaammin. Turun romantiikka -teos on juuri julkaistu ruotsiksi. Sarjala toivoo teoksen tavoittavan uutta lukijakuntaa Ruotsista, sillä Åboromantiken voi tuoda suomalaisen näkökulman pohjoismaiseen keskusteluun. Podcastin pikaosiossa Sarjala vastaa kysymykseen, olisiko kulttuurihistoria tunteena ylevä vai arkinen. Kirjavinkkinä hän suosittelee ruotsalaisen Kristina Fjelkestamin teosta Begäret efter det förflutna. Humanisti vastaa -podcastin toimittaa humanistisen tiedekunnan työelämäprofessori Riitta Monto. Podcastin tuottaa Turun yliopisto. Tekstivastine: https://www.utu.fi/fi/ajankohtaista/podcast/humanisti-vastaa

We snuck on down the the coolest little abandoned classroom, deep below the First Churches in Northampton, Massachusetts to bring you interviews from some of the HOTTEST gamers around. We've got it 50/50 for you today - in the first half we are joined by two beautiful human beings, David Hoskins (@davidhoskins) and Hothead CJ (@hothead_collective). We talk about the broad variety in the gaming/nerd world and how CJ presents in in Glaive Magazine (Issue 2 here!), and Dave talks about the new hex and chit dogfighting game that he's been playtesting. In the second half we've got the dynamic force of Arcane Bryan (@arcaneswordpress) and Joey Royale (WHPA-13). Joey gets us STOKED on building a community and expanding your hobby outside the bounds of the minis you paint and the games you play. Arcane Bryan fills us in on a little ancient DnD lore, how ArcaneCon is structured and running this year, and talks a bit about planning your own thing!LET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE!Big shout out to all those Scumbags that decided to join our Patreon, you are the reason we can keep on keeping on - thank you!Beg for your Robux, and Bash the Planet!We have sick merch! ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Hive Scum Big Cartel⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Check out Knucklebones Miniatures' (@knucklebones_miniatures) New Hive Scum Flagellants! ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Knucklebones Patreon⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Join the In Rust We Trust discord here: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠IRWT Discord⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠If you'd like to support us further, take a look at our Patreon! We'd love to have you: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Hive Scum Patreon⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Buy all of the Under the Dice Merch here: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Under the Dice⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠We are on IG/Blogger:Hive Scum: @hivescumpodcastSteve: ⁠⁠⁠Under the Dice⁠⁠⁠Gage: @noclearcoatTerry: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠w0rmh0l3 Blog⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠

30. Yıl Dinleyici Destek haftasında, Sinefil ve Apaçık Radyo destekçisi Begüm Baysan'ı konuk ediyoruz. Richard Linklater'ın Blue Moon, Guillermo del Toro'nun Frankenstein ve yeni gösterim programlarını konuştuğumuz programda, 30. yaşımızı birlikte kutlamaya devam ediyoruz.  

Združene države Amerike so v bližnji prihodnosti totalitarna država, ki jo vodi sprega korporacij, medijev in vlade. Družba nadzora je ločena na večinoma obubožano prebivalstvo, ki se zabava ob nasilnih resničnostnih oddajah, in v idili živeč višji sloj. Ben Richards, ki zaradi uporniškega obnašanja ne dobi službe in se poskuša z ženo in hčerko izvleči iz revščine, privoli v nastop v resničnostni oddaji Tekač, ki ponuja visoke nagrade, če tekmovalec v igri lovcev in plena preživi mesec dni. Znanstvenofantastična akcijska srhljivka Tekač je posneta po distopičnem romanu Stephena Kinga, ki je bil dogajalno postavljen prav v leto 2025. Seveda film kar kliče po iskanju podobnosti z današnjim časom, še posebno s stališča družbe nadzora, razredne delitve, socialnih krivic in obsedenosti z medijskim oblikovanjem resničnosti oziroma z resničnostnimi šovi samimi. Kolikor je dandanes – v aktualnem in umišljenem letu 2025 – sploh še mogoče ločevati med analognim življenjem in njegovim digitalnim odsevom. Samoumevna je tudi primerjava s celovečerno priredbo iz leta 1987, v kateri je kot glavni lik nastopal Arnold Schwarzenegger. Film Beg je bil precej bolj televizijski v smislu enodimenzionalne satire – dejansko je že takrat napovedal avdiovizualno potvarjanje oziroma tehnologijo deepfake in obsedenost z resničnostnimi oddajami, ki je dobila zagon šele kakšno desetletje po premieri; aktualni Tekač upošteva tehnološki napredek in se dobro odziva na interaktivnost, ki jo pravzaprav vsi živimo. Film je vešče režiral britanski avtor Edgar Wright, ki ga poznamo po domiselno in dinamično preoblikovanih žanrskih mešanicah, in tudi Tekaču ne primanjkuje sape. Glavno vlogo ima Glen Powell, ki se zna bolj približati jezi ponižanih in razžaljenih kot Arnold Schwarzenegger, ki je pač superjunak ne glede na zgodbo. V tem smislu je tudi aktualna priredba bolj zemeljska in dobro izrazi preganjavico današnjosti – Tekač je tako med dvema filmoma s Harrisonom Fordom, Iztrebljevalcem (Blade Runner, 1982) in Beguncem (The Fugitive iz l. 1993). Zagata z avtorstvom Celovečerec Beg (1987) je bil posnet po romanu Stephena Kinga, ki ga je leta 1982, tako kot še štiri druge, s psevdonimom izdal Richard Bachman. Toda filmska različica, ki je bila v marsičem prilagojena podobi in statusu Arnolda Schwarzeneggerja v osemdesetih letih, ima več skupnega kot z romaneskno predlogo pravzaprav s francosko-jugoslovansko koprodukcijo z naslovom Nagrada za tveganje (Le prix du danger, 1983), ki jo je režiral Yves Boisset. Francozi so zaradi očitnega kopiranja tudi uspešno tožili ameriške producente. Ampak zapletov tu še ni konec – francoski film je temeljil na kratki zgodbi Roberta Sheckleyja iz leta 1958, ki je verjetno prva napovedala vzpon in vpliv resničnostnih oddaj. Njegova kratka zgodba The Prize of Peril je doživela prvo priredbo že leta 1970 v zahodnonemškem televizijskem filmu Igra za milijon (Das Millionenspiel), ki je bil tako prepričljiv, da so ga jezni gledalci ob prvem predvajanju dojeli kot resnično sodobno gladiatorsko igro. A ker so nemški producenti odkupili avtorske pravice le za zgodbo, ne pa tudi za njeno filmsko priredbo, je moral film skoraj za tri desetletja v »bunker« in je bil znova prikazan šele leta 2002. Ker je bil Stephen King še pred plodovitim pisanjem tudi obseden bralec in je spremljal popularno kulturo, se lahko vprašamo o resničnem avtorstvu … Zagata z rasno politiko V romanu Stephena Kinga je Dan Kilian, producent razvpitega televizijskega programa, skratka, glavni negativec, temnopolt, etnični izvor Richardsove žene pa ni opredeljen. Filmska partnerica Arnolda Schwarzeneggerja je bila Maria Conchita Alonso, ki je po izvoru sicer Kubanka, vendar to ni imelo pomembne vloge. V najnovejši priredbi igra zlobnega televizijskega producenta še kako beli Josh Brolin, Richardsova žena in njegova glavna motivacija za preživetje pa je temnopolta Jayme Lawson. Prvemu Predatorju, ki je, tako kot Beg, doživel premiero leta 1987, so očitali rasistične podtone zaradi nekaterih telesnih posebnosti pošasti in snemalne lokacije. Letošnja enačica je že obrnila to perspektivo in podobno »prebujenske« podtone politične korektnosti lahko opazimo tudi pri Tekaču s spremembo rasnih vlog oziroma kar s popolnim preobratom v primerjavi z literarno predlogo – čisto v skladu z groteskno usmeritvijo Netflixovih adaptacij ... Zagata s sporočilom Film Tekač poskuša biti s svojo satirično jezo in srcem na strani gverilskega odpora ter razkrinkavanja zarot in središč moči nekakšen novi Klub golih pesti (Fight Club, 1999). Toda zanimivo je, kako poskuša film o razkrinkavanju vpliva televizijskih šovov na množice sam, pač z jezikom in dosego industrije zabave, prav tako vplivati na množice. Tu se celovečerni film ujame v podoben paradoks, kot ga je že davno definiral François Truffaut: da namreč ne more biti protivojnega filma, saj sama narava filmskega ustvarjanja s svojo vizualno-pripovedno uporabo konfliktov, napetosti, spektakla in vznemirjenja neizbežno povzdiguje samo vojno. Enako naivno je pričakovanje, da bi lahko imel znanstvenofantastični spektakel tipa Tekač v sebi kaj zares prevratnega – morda bi lahko šli še korak dlje in zapisali, da je po obdobju postmoderizma postalo morda najbolj uspavalno prav samo razkrinkavanje uspavalnih mehanizmov …

Bloomberg HT Editörü Begüm Nur Alkış'ın hazırlayıp sunduğu "Bu Fikir Tutar!"ın bu haftaki konuğu Virgosol Kurucu Ortağı Özgür Arzu Barbaros. Bu bölümde, hatalı yazılımın küresel ekonomiye etkisinden hız–kalite dengesinde şirketlerin yeni yol haritalarına, bulut altyapısında egemenlik arayışına ve yazılım güvenilirliğinin sürdürülebilirlik boyutuna kadar uzanan kapsamlı bir sohbet sizleri bekliyor.

Dienstwagen sind beliebt – aber steuerlich komplex. Wann wird die private Nutzung eines Firmenwagens zum geldwerten Vorteil? Und wie wirken sich CO₂-Ausstoß, Privatkilometer oder Leasingmodelle auf die Höhe des Sachbezugs aus? In unserer neuen Folge klären wir, wann der PKW-Sachbezug anzusetzen ist, was den halben vom Mini-Sachbezug unterscheidet und worauf Prüfer bei Fahrtenbüchern besonders achten. Was du in dieser Folge zu hören bekommst … … ist ein kompakter Überblick über die steuerliche Behandlung von Dienstfahrzeugen, inklusive Berechnungsmethoden, Nachweispflichten und typischer Fahrtenbuchfehler. Außerdem erfährst du, welche Begünstigungen für Elektrofahrzeuge gelten und wie Arbeitgeber und Arbeitnehmer steuerlich auf der sicheren Seite bleiben. Silvia Welle, Arbeitsrechtsspezialistin bei der Hofer Leitinger Steuerberatung GmbH (www.hoferleitinger.at), gibt praxisnahe Einblicke und erklärt, worauf Unternehmen bei der Bewertung und Dokumentation von PKW-Sachbezügen achten sollten. STEUERAFFE - gut gebrüllt im Steuerdschungel. Euer Podcast für steuerliche und arbeitsrechtliche Fragen. Mehr dazu findet ihr unter www.steueraffe.at.

In dieser Episode widmen wir uns in gewohnter Runde wieder der aus unserer Sicht relevanten BFH-Rechtsprechung. Dieses Mal aus dem Monat Oktober, in dem es wieder einige sehr interessante Entscheidungen gegeben hat. Insbesondere im Zusammenhang mit der Behandlung des Nießbrauchers an Personengesellschaften sowie in Bezug auf die erbschaftsteuerliche Behandlung ausländischer Stiftungen. Wir starten mit II R 30/22 und der Frage, ob eine Schweizer Stiftung mit klarem Verwaltungssitz und Ort der Geschäftsleitung in Deutschland der deutschen Erbersatzsteuer gem. § 1 Abs. 1 Nr. 4 ErbStG unterliegt. Mit II R 31/22 und II R 56/22 führt der BFH seine Linie im Bereich von § 6a GrEStG konsequent fort und entscheidet en passant darüber, ob Gebietskörperschaften herrschendes Unternehmen sein können. Das Urteil II R 12/21 klärt, ob eine Erbauseinandersetzung auch mehr als sechs Monate nach dem Erbfall zum sog. Begünstigtentransfer berechtigen kann, wenn ein innerer Zusammenhang zum Erbfall fortbesteht. In II R 22/21 entscheidet der BFH, wie die Bereicherung bei disquotalen Einlagen in eine Körperschaft bemessen wird. In II R 18/23 beschäftigt sich der BFH damit, ob das Halten eines Familienheims über eine GbR der Steuerbefreiung nach § 13 Abs. 1 Nr. 4a EStG unterliegen kann. IV R 36/22 konturiert die Fragestellung, inwieweit ein Nießbraucher Mitunternehmer sein kann – eine zentrale Frage insbesondere für die Anwendung des § 6 Abs. 3 EStG. Das Urteil III R 45/22 konkretisiert die Voraussetzungen einer Gewinnerzielungsabsicht und inwieweit Veräußerungsgewinne auch bei Vermietungs-Cases in die Prognosegrundlage aufgenommen werden. Zum Abschluss dann noch einmal Grunderwerbsteuer: In II B 23/25 (AdV) bestätigt der BFH erneut, dass die Festsetzung von Signing & Closing GrESt nicht zutreffend ist. Allerdings ist die Grunderwerbsteuer des § 1 Abs. 2b GrEStG im Ergebnis „von Dauer“. Die Entscheidungsvorschau zu den mündlichen Verhandlungen am BFH aus dem vergangenen Monat ist dagegen ausnahmsweise eher überschaubar. Viel Spaß beim Hören! Folge direkt herunterladen

Das Eis ist gebrochen, und die Wall Street feiert das nahende Ende der seit 41 Tagen laufenden Haushaltssperre. Letztendlich sind die Demokraten im Senat eingeknickt, und konnten sich nicht durchsetzen. Man hatte am Freitag gefordert, dass die bis Jahresende gültigen Steuervergünstigungen aus dem „Affordable Care Act“, also Zuschüsse, die vielen Amerikanern helfen, ihre Krankenversicherungsbeiträge zu bezahlen, um ein Jahr verlängert werden. Nun heißt es lediglich, dass die Republikaner über den Verbleib dieser Begünstigungen gegen Jahresende abstimmen werden. Wir sehen dennoch auf Aufatmen an der Wall Street, zumal es vermehrt die Verspätungen und Stornierungen von Flügen kommt, und der Schaden für die Wirtschaft wächst. Die vor Handelsstart gemeldeten Ergebnisse lagen überwiegend über den Zielen, mit den Aktien von Instacart im Plus. Außerdem hebt die Citi das Ziel für NVIDIA an, und am Dienstag meldet CoreWeave Ergebnisse. Abonniere den Podcast, um keine Folge zu verpassen! ____ Folge uns, um auf dem Laufenden zu bleiben: • X: http://fal.cn/SQtwitter • LinkedIn: http://fal.cn/SQlinkedin • Instagram: http://fal.cn/SQInstagram

Das Eis ist gebrochen, und die Wall Street feiert das nahende Ende der seit 41 Tagen laufenden Haushaltssperre. Letztendlich sind die Demokraten im Senat eingeknickt, und konnten sich nicht durchsetzen. Man hatte am Freitag gefordert, dass die bis Jahresende gültigen Steuervergünstigungen aus dem „Affordable Care Act“, also Zuschüsse, die vielen Amerikanern helfen, ihre Krankenversicherungsbeiträge zu bezahlen, um ein Jahr verlängert werden. Nun heißt es lediglich, dass die Republikaner über den Verbleib dieser Begünstigungen gegen Jahresende abstimmen werden. Wir sehen dennoch auf Aufatmen an der Wall Street, zumal es vermehrt die Verspätungen und Stornierungen von Flügen kommt, und der Schaden für die Wirtschaft wächst. Die vor Handelsstart gemeldeten Ergebnisse lagen überwiegend über den Zielen, mit den Aktien von Instacart im Plus. Außerdem hebt die Citi das Ziel für NVIDIA an, und am Dienstag meldet CoreWeave Ergebnisse. Ein Podcast - featured by Handelsblatt. +++ Alle Rabattcodes und Infos zu unseren Werbepartnern findet ihr hier: https://linktr.ee/wallstreet_podcast +++ +++ Hinweis zur Werbeplatzierung von Meta: https://backend.ad-alliance.de/fileadmin/Transparency_Notice/Meta_DMAJ_TTPA_Transparency_Notice_-_Ad_Alliance_approved.pdf +++ Der Podcast wird vermarktet durch die Ad Alliance. Die allgemeinen Datenschutzrichtlinien der Ad Alliance finden Sie unter https://datenschutz.ad-alliance.de/podcast.html Die Ad Alliance verarbeitet im Zusammenhang mit dem Angebot die Podcasts-Daten. Wenn Sie der automatischen Übermittlung der Daten widersprechen wollen, klicken Sie hier: https://datenschutz.ad-alliance.de/podcast.html Impressum: https://www.360wallstreet.de/impressum

Episode Notes S6E38--Join us as we chat with the unmasked OG himself Mr. Tony Moran. He'll be in the house telling tales from struggling actor to Halloween and beyond. Anthony Moran (born August 14, 1957) is an American actor and producer. He is known for briefly playing the unmasked Michael Myers in the 1978 horror classic Halloween. Since then, he has gone on to make guest appearances in television series The Waltons and CHiPs. He is the elder brother of fellow actors Erin Moran (of Happy Days fame) and John Moran. HELPFUL LINKS: VETERANS: https://www.va.gov/.../mental-health/suicide-prevention/ ADDICTION: https://lp.recoverycentersofamerica.com/.../continuum-of.../ Due you know someone that has lost their lives due to addiction? Or even someone that has made a full recovery? Reach out to Johnny Whitaker so they can help to celebrate the lives lost/ lives recovered at overdoseawareness0831@gmail.com Follow our guest https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tony_Moran_(actor) https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0602985/ https://www.instagram.com/therealtonymoran/?hl=en Toking with the Dead: https://www.stilltoking.com/ ————————————— Follow Still Toking With and their friends! https://smartpa.ge/5zv1 ————————————— Produced by Leo Pond and The Dorkening Podcast Network MORE ABOUT THE GUEST: Tony Moran was a struggling actor before he got the role of the unmasked Michael Myers in Halloween. At the time he had a job on Hollywood and Vine dressed up as Frankenstein. Moran had the same agent as his sister, Erin, who played Joanie Cunningham on Happy Days. When Moran went to audition for the role of Michael Myers in 1978, he met for an interview with director John Carpenter and producer Irwin Yablans. He has since stated that he originally did not want to do the movie, only changing his mind when he got confirmation that Donald Pleasence would be in it. He later got a call back and was told he had got the part. Moran was paid $250 for his appearance in Halloween and did not return for any of the sequels, although he was paid for his appearance at the beginning of Halloween II, which was a recap of the first film. Halloween was Moran's only film for 30 years. Through the late seventies and early eighties, he has made guest appearances in several television series including CHiPs, The Waltons, James at 15, and California Fever. In 2008, Moran returned to acting with the short film The Lucky Break. In 2010, he produced and starred in the horror film Beg, which also stars his Halloween co-star P.J. Soles. In 2014 he starred in Dead Bounty. In 2014 he appeared in the documentary film Horror Icon: Inside Michael's Mask with Tony Moran, which premiered in October 2015. Find out more at https://still-toking-with.pinecast.co Send us your feedback online: https://pinecast.com/feedback/still-toking-with/d1cd0b64-9b26-4f1d-8cd0-3f9594ec50e3

Begår transpersoner fler masskjutningar än andra? Det talas om en epidemi av transterror i USA. Läkaren och USA-kännaren Erik W. Larsson går till botten med denna fråga. Inläsare: Staffan Dopping

Diese Jubiläumsfolge ist eine Einladung, dich mitten im Wandel zu verankern, in deinem eigenen Leben, in deinem Körper, in deinem innersten Wissen. Ich nehme dich mit meine persönliche Metamorphose: Zwei Jahre voller Veränderung, innerem Wachstum, Klarheit und dem Mut, nicht nur neu zu denken, sondern neu zu sein. In dieser Folge geht es um:

Read OnlineJesus told his disciples a parable about the necessity for them to pray always without becoming weary. Luke 18:1In our parable for today, we have the witness of a widow who came to a dishonest judge and continuously begged him for a just judgment. Though the judge did not care about the woman, he eventually rendered a just decision for her because she was so persistent. It's interesting that Jesus used the image of a “dishonest judge” to teach us about persistent prayers being answered. He does so because He wants us to understand that if even those who are dishonest respond to persistence, then so much more will the Just Judge of Heaven respond to persistence.Will God answer any prayer you pray if you offer that prayer day and night, day after day without fail? Does God eventually give into our requests as a parent might give into a child who keeps begging for something? Not exactly. One of the most important qualifiers mentioned in this parable is the word “just.” We read that the woman's plea before the judge was, “render a just decision for me…” At the conclusion of the parable, Jesus gives this interpretation: “Will not God then secure the rights of his chosen ones who call out to him day and night?” When we pray, we ought not pray for whatever we want. We ought not pray for our preference, selfish desires, or our own ideas. We must pray only for the justice of God. When we do so with unwavering perseverance, God will secure our rights and bring forth His justice.Justice, in the mind of God, is not only about righting certain wrongs. The prime example of this is the death of our Lord Himself. Clearly, Jesus was purely innocent and yet He suffered greatly. For that reason, would we conclude that the suffering and death of the Son of God was an injustice? Not really. The reason for this is that justice can be achieved best by mercy. Because Jesus embraced the injustice of His suffering and death and turned it into a free embrace out of love, this “injustice” became a sacrifice of love by which an abundance of mercy was bestowed. Jesus had every right to call down fire from Heaven and to destroy those who sinned against Him. But He had a far better plan. Instead, by choosing to accept the injustice of the Cross, and by freely embracing it with His own will, the injustice was transformed and a far greater good came forth.In our own lives, whenever we are wronged by another, we are often tempted to anger and to desire revenge in the name of justice. We want them to pay for what they did. If you ever feel that way, know that the greatest form of justice is mercy. Know that your free embrace of injustice brings forth the transforming power of God in a way that punishment or retribution could never accomplish. This is the form of justice we must pray for night and day. We must beg God for the ability to accept all sufferings with love, to offer those sufferings as a sacrifice, and to allow them to be transformed into mercy. If this is our persistent prayer, we can be certain that our prayer will be answered. Reflect, today, upon anything for which you desire justice. Is there anything that has been unfair in your life? Do you dwell upon any hurt inflicted upon you by another? As you call those things to mind, know that the power of your persistent prayer has the potential to transform those sufferings into God's mercy. Beg for this gift and know that God will always answer those prayers. Most just Judge, You desire to transform every injustice into mercy by calling us to freely embrace those injustices out of love. This is a high calling, dear Lord, but it is also a glorious one. Please give me the grace I need to follow Your example and to persevere in this form of prayer always. Jesus, I trust in You.  Image: various, Public domain, via Wikimedia CommonsSource of content: catholic-daily-reflections.comCopyright © 2025 My Catholic Life! Inc. All rights reserved. Used with permission via RSS feed.

On this Student Spotlight during University of Southern California Dornsife Week: What does your brain learn from rejection? Begüm G Babür, Ph. D student in social psychology, analyzes the results. Begüm is a Ph.D. student in the Social Connection Lab at USC Dornsife College of Letters, Arts and Sciences. She received her B.A. in Psychology […]

La Turquie serait-elle en train de connaître un épisode tardif de la vague #MeToo, ce vaste mouvement de libération de la parole des femmes démarré dans le milieu du cinéma aux États-Unis en 2017 ? Le mouvement féministe turc est puissant et a gagné en popularité avec les réseaux sociaux. Les nouvelles générations, très connectées, s'inspirent de ce qui se passe à l'étranger. Depuis un mois, une vague de milliers de dénonciations sur les réseaux sociaux révèle plusieurs dizaines de noms de personnalités connues et d'anonymes dans les milieux artistiques et académiques. Le phénomène relance la réflexion sur la gestion des violences sexistes et sexuelles au sein des organisations de défense des droits des femmes. Reportage à Ankara de notre correspondante, Messages graveleux, gestes déplacés répétés jusqu'à des cas de viols par soumission chimique... Chaque jour charrie son lot de témoignages et vient ajouter de nouveaux noms à la liste des hommes accusés de violences sexistes et sexuelles. Ce sont plus de 5 000 posts qui ont été partagés sur les réseaux sociaux en une dizaine de jours, d'après les statistiques du réseau X. Des personnalités du monde de l'art, des milieux universitaires et de la société civile sont au cœur du scandale. Alors, plusieurs institutions culturelles, chaînes de télévision et plateformes de diffusion ont annoncé rompre leurs contrats avec les hommes accusés. Medine Aybar, 29 ans, travaille dans le secteur du cinéma et de la publicité. Elle a choisi de partager sur les réseaux sociaux le harcèlement d'un de ses anciens patrons. Militante féministe, elle décrypte les mécanismes d'impunité qui règne dans son secteur professionnel : « J'ai commencé par lire les posts de dénonciations sur les photographes de mode, en lisant, j'ai tout de suite fait le parallèle avec mes propres expériences, alors je me suis mise à écrire et à partager aussi ce que j'avais vécu. » À écouter aussiMeToo: des affaires emblématiques en Suède, Espagne, Afrique du Sud et Japon Les dynamiques propres à l'industrie du cinéma rendent les dénonciations extrêmement risquées pour les carrières, mais elle a reçu de nombreux messages de soutien de la part de collègues : « J'ai eu des coups de fil de la part de personnes du secteur que j'aime beaucoup, qui m'ont dit "on te suit et on voit ce que tu publies" et s'ils m'appellent, c'est parce qu'ils savent que plein de gens du secteur pourraient me menacer de perdre du travail, ou faire pression sur moi de plein de manières différentes. » Témoigner en ligne : une option pour de nombreuses victimes Forte de cette première initiative, elle a décidé de se mobiliser pour recueillir le plus de témoignages possible et les diffuser de manière anonyme. Car nombre de victimes d'agressions préfèrent partager leurs témoignages sur les réseaux sociaux plutôt que dans les salles d'audience des palais de justice. Begüm Baki est membre de l'Association de lutte contre les violences sexuelles : « Il existe de nombreux obstacles à la dénonciation des violences sexuelles. C'est d'ailleurs pour cela que dans tous les pays, les violences sexuelles sont les crimes les moins rapportés, et en Turquie, malheureusement, c'est très rare. L'absence de mécanismes de soutien, la méconnaissance des droits, le manque d'institutions et l'approche culpabilisante à l'égard des victimes – manifestations du patriarcat et des inégalités de genre – sont particulièrement visibles là où ces inégalités sont les plus profondes. Face à cette réalité, certaines personnes finissent par ressentir le besoin de dire "stop". » Les dénonciations publiées sur les réseaux sociaux feront-elles l'objet d'enquêtes de la part de la justice ? Les avocates des droits des femmes en doutent, mais elles rappellent que les victimes ne sont pas totalement dépourvues. Le principe de « primauté de la parole de la victime » a été maintes fois validé par les différentes instances de justice et donne espoir de voir punir les auteurs de violences dont les noms sont désormais connus de tous.

Bizden Biri serimizde her hafta Almanya'da yaşayan, yaptığı işte, sanat dalında, sosyal ya da toplumsal faaliyetlerinde öne çıkan, başarılı insanları daha yakından tanıyoruz. Bu haftaki konuğumuz 7 yıl önce Almanya'ya gelen ve yaptığı Almanca eğitim videoları ile özellikle Almanca öğrenmek isteyenlerin yakından tanıdığı bir isim; Begüm Gürlek. Sosyal medyada Begi Begi adıyla bilinen genç eğitimci, WDR stüdyolarında konuğumuz oldu. Sunucumuz Gökçe Göksu'nun Almanya'daki hayatına, Türkiye geçmişine ve yaptığı çalışmalara dair sorularını yanıtladı. Keyifli bir sohbet sizi bekliyor. Von Gökçe Göksu und Eren Mahir Gençer.

DARKSYDEPHIL EXPOSED! NEVER too proud to BEG!Music by Karl Casey  @WhiteBatAudio  Graphics by SpookyContent created here by Spectral International, LLC.Buy me a coffee (or 100) to support the show :https://buymeacoffee.com/truthseekersMusic videos by Simon Fly. Visit our website here : https://truthseekershow.com  Subscribe to our youtube channel here :http://www.youtube.com/c/truthseekershowFollow Steven Cambian on twitter : @stevencambian Join our Patreon : https://www.patreon.com/stevencambianDonate by paypal : Send a paypal to TRUTHSEEKERSHOW@GMAIL.COMAny amount you wish. Please include your chatroom user id, and any message you would like me to read on air. We read every paypal message we are sent and thank every person who sends any paypal support. Listen to the audio podcast : https://www.spreaker.com/user/14526799Email us : TRUTHSEEKERSHOW@GMAIL.COM

With tension ramping up on the Hellmouth, everything seems dire at chez Summers. Luckily for us, Andrew takes on the responsibility to tell the story of Buffy: the Slayer of vam-PYRES! What ensues is a whimsical break as well as a hilarious glimpse into the psyche of Andrew!Rewatch, Listen & Laugh as we delight in the fantastical mind of our favorite childlike accomplice to murder, we ship a new COUPLE on the show, and we continue to BEG @tommylenk to join us on the show.. in the pod lab.. meet us for coffee... LITERALLY ANYTHING! (WE LOVE YOU MAN!)And don't forget to follow us at the_rewatcher on Instagram for special bonus content!!See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

AUG. 22, 2025Advice for in-laws."That is why a man leaves his father and mother and is united to his wife, and they become one flesh." Ge 2:24 NIVIn Eight Ways In-laws Can Break Up a Marriage it offers examples that should make every in-law stop and think. "(1) When your child decides to marry, show hostility toward the person they chose. After all, it means less love for you, so you have a right to resent them. (2) Expect them to spend weekends and holidays with you, and act hurt if they don't. (3) If they have problems with their mate, encourage them to come home. And when they do, listen to their complaints, and point out other shortcomings they may have missed. Remember, one drop of water after another can wear away a rock. (4) If they're having financial problems, rescue them. Beg, borrow, or steal, but let them know that as long as you're around, they'll never go without. (5) If they have a drinking or drug problem, tell them their mate drove them to it.After all, everybody needs someone to blame.(6) If they have an opportunity for career advancement that takes them to another city, tell them 'family' is more important than money and God will punish them for not honoring the commandment 'honor thy father and thy mother! (7) If there are grandchildren involved, spoil them. And if the parents object, tell them to stay out of it; after all, what are grandkids for? (8) If your child has an argument with their mate, fan the flames.Family loyalty is a beautiful thing; with a little work, you can turn a minor argument into a major hassle and break up a marriage."Advice for in-laws In-laws—stop and think!Share This DevotionalSend us a textSupport the showChanging Lives | Building Strong Family | Impacting Our Community For Jesus Christ!

Zelensky To Beg Trump To Continue War! Plus, New York Governor Sparks Outrage After Secretly Pardoning Murderer To Spare Him Deportation

Gost epizode 191 je bil Mohammed Waleed Alaswad, mladi fant, ki je kot migrant prišel iz Sirije v Slovenijo. Danes dela kot uspešen frizer v eni izmed Ljubljanskih brivnic. =================== Pridite se strižt k Mohammedu ❤️ https://form.lime-booking.com/sl/UnseenBarbershop/service?u=7228  =================== V epizodi se dotakneva naslednjih tematik: Spoznanje s Klemnom in otroštvo v Siriji Življenje pred vojno in izkušnje v šoli Začetek vojne in posledice Beg iz Sirije in potovanje v Turčijo Življenje v Turčiji in iskanje dela Migracija v Evropo in izkušnje v Sloveniji Prilagajanje na novo življenje in izobraževanje Uspeh in prihodnost =================== Prijavi se na AIDEA newsletter (obvestilo glede LIVE AIDEA dogodka): https://aidea.si/aidea-mailing-lista 

Lawn to be mowed in the morning tomorrow, Friday. Also, we wrap the week with our spotlight artists @Eytan Mirsky, @Dave Cope And The Sass, and @Vanilla. As the show draws to an end on Friday, A quick introduction to NEXT weeks featured artists @Jesse Norell for the album “Aorta Borealis”, @Deadlightd “Eleven Step Intervention”, and @Emperor Penguin from the CD “Sunday Carvery”! BUSY FRIDAY! The Music Authority Podcast... download, listen, share, repeat…heard daily on Belter Radio, Podchaser, Deezer, Amazon Music, Audible, Listen Notes, Mixcloud, Player FM, Tune In, Podcast Addict, Cast Box, Radio Public, Pocket Cast, APPLE iTunes, and direct for the source distribution site: *Podcast - https://themusicauthority.transistor.fm/  AND NOW there is a website! TheMusicAuthority.comThe Music Authority Podcast! Special Recorded Network Shows, too! Different than my daily show! Seeing that I'm gone from FB now…Follow me on “X” Jim Prell@TMusicAuthority*The Music Authority on @BelterRadio Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday 7 pm ET & Wednesday 9 pm ET*Radio Candy Radio Monday Wednesday, & Friday 7PM ET, 4PM PT*Rockin' The KOR Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday at 7PM UK time, 2PM ET, 11AM PT  www.koradio.rocks*Pop Radio UK Friday, Saturday, & Sunday 6PM UK, 1PM ET, 10AM PT! *The Sole Of Indie https://soleofindie.rocks/ Monday Through Friday 6-7PM EST!*AltPhillie.Rocks Sunday, Thursday, & Saturday At 11:00AM ET!August 14, 2025, Thursday, verse two…@Greek Theatre - Alpha [A Deeper Scar] (koolkatmusik.com)@Bob Lind - You Look Just Like A Girl Again [Something Worse Than Loneliness] (@Ace)@Kevin Robertson - Custom Made (Stripped) [Sundown Stripped]@Hoodoo Gurus - On My Street [Blow Your Cool]@Eytan Mirsky - It's All Right To Be Alone [Lord, Have Mirsky]@The Tearaways - Broken Down [Anthems And Lullabies]@Duncan Reid And The Big Heads - C'mon Josephine [Bombs Away]@The Red Plastic Buddha - Clouds [Sunflower Sessions]@Dave Cope & The Sass - Topsy Turvy [Julee] (koolkatmusik.com)@John Howard - Life Is Never The Way We Want It To Be [As I Was Saying]@The Nearlies - Oh Aurora [Fresh Memories]@The Dirty Truckers - All She Ever Wanted [Best Of The Dirty Truckers] (@Rum Bar Records)@The Plimsouls - Lie, Beg, Borrow And Steal@Vanilla - The Truth Is Never True [Sideshow]@65 MPH - Past Glories@Idle Jets - Genius Of The Obvious [Atomic Fireball]@Gail George – More Than Me [IPO Vol 18]

Li Almanya xurtekî êrişe Mîr Hazim Tehsîn Beg mîrê Êzidiyan kiriye ku vê yekê gelek diltengî ji bo civaka Êzîdî çêkir. Herweha di naveroka raportê de behsa rêjeya xenqandina xelkê bi melevanîyan dibe ku ev bûyerana gelekî zêdebûne. Em derbarê van herdu mijarên li jor bi nûçegîhan Ehmed Xefûr ji Hewlêrê diaxafin.

Episode 332 features New Junk City, an indie rock band from Atlanta. I've become a big fan of theirs was happy to get them on the show. Their sound could be described as a mix of Gin Blossoms and Menzingers-style punk. In the interview, I spoke with John and Dakota, where we discussed their new album Beg a Promise and my favorite track from it, Rosey. We also talked about their tours in Europe, their recording process, and their day jobs. They will have some shows coming up so definitely keep tabs on their instagram if you interested. Thanks for listening and for supporting local music!   Please follow, rate, or review the podcast wherever you are streaming if you'd like to help us out.  -- Part-Time Rockstar Productions is available in the DMV for music videos and live filming.    Part-Time Rockstar Spotify Playlist

Send me a message!Perhaps the most important podcast I've recorded to date, listen into this conversation I had with Profe Morgan Bennett, about the importance of ending Beg, Borrow, Steal culture, and instead shift to one of "Ask, Acknowledge, Appreciate". To connect with Morgan, follow her on Instagram at: @Profe_BennettLet's Connect! My BlogMy YouTubeMy InstagramMy WebsiteMy TPT storeJoin La Familia Loca PLC

“Look what they eye unearthed,” leaning into the tip of my ear with the warmth and closeness of the coming waves, high tide approaching in the waning moon. “More secrets.” I replied. It was a question but also a statement— there was never such as this the luminescent trace of the glowing lava that was his force and might that I could not see for miles before he would even wander— first in twinkling stars and then later the wind itself and the birds, and then beneath the waves, like the quaking shake of a mighty oak anchored elsewhere and tied to the sea. “So you know.” I was hoping he would kill me before the next time I had to ever really know anything. He was the subject, and the predicate The wrong done, and the justice She was the pride and the prejudice But Judas brings the law Did you look in the box? No, I– [The Box Is The Box] –No, I haven't. Nearly three nights ago, a mysterious box arrived on the doorstep of an equally mysterious writer, who spends their time in isolation due to the often unannounced arrival of various ghosts, spirits, time travelers, and other figures by instant teleportation and other magical forms of transportation into their shabby New York apartment. Some of ya'll got so many air wick plug ins and scentci wax melts you don't know you smell like booboo. It's an illusion. You leave your house, You smell like booboo. I promise. Oh, God, I think I need a drink. Are you alright? Let me just–sit down for a second. Of course. My God. What's wrong. Look, i'm not supposed to say anything about this but. What's wrong? It's nothing, I'm just–I'm in a song. …what? A song! Is that all?! You don't understand. It's not a normal kind of song. It's– [takes a puff of inhaler] You wouldn't understand. Well what's so wrong about being in a song? Its not – a regular song–and it's not [gasping] finished! I still kind of wanted to be a comedian–but I knew I wasn't funny in the way that made sense to keep going and stand up there. I was still writing comedy, but I didn't know how to take myself out of it–the truth was, I was in a lot of pain. A lot of emotional pain that was becoming physical–and I didn't know what to do about it to break the barrier of nervousness and blank slate state of feeling the audience's perceptions of me more overwhelmingly than ever feeling myself. look at this song. I know huh. It's purple. Every time. It is purple. And what is that. Like a muted trombone? IS THAT A TROMBONE? Or a tuba? No, it has to be a trombone…becasue you can hear it slide– And that's what that sound is. What a sneaky rabbit. Super sneaky rabbit. So if i can see all this, I'm almost certainly sure the motorcycles outside and the slamming doors are meant to murder me. I'm sure that's what it is. You ever notice how being broke in New York makes you a bad person? Like, if you're broke, you're just automatically shitty. I never meant to be in New York broke. I never meant to be in New York, But I certainly never meant to be here and be poor, Poor in New York? Automatically a shitty person. Despite how you act. You can be a rich piece of shit— But the status is automatically “You got dough? Oh, alright. Carry on” That's the attitude in New York City. Crap people get by cause they got their hands on some money and the rules in New York say it doesn't really matter how you come by it, As long as you come by it. There's no real rules or real laws to it— Just “Get the money” Well god damn. This makes me nervous. I'm an artist. I've tried everything. I didn't mean to be the automatic enemy here. Of course not. But New York is a terrifying place to me, now, Cause I realized I can be a very sweet, very humble, very honest person— And that kind of shit doesn't matter here, really. It brings you no respect to be decent. It's about the money. So I'm a musician— which in New York also makes me like, Automatically not special, And I'm trying to just be a musician, and so naturally, I'm broke. Like broke in half. Like all my bills are late. But music is my solace. So I'm listening to music, And I'm listening to a song that is so beautiful, that I start to cry. The first time I heard it, it made me cry And I'm listening to it over, and it made me cry And it's so beautiful, and God is so beautiful And look at what God did, So I'm crying, And I don't even know what it is about the beauty of it that's making me cry, But it's making me cry, And New York hears me crying And New York goes “I'll give you something to cry about” And I open my email And there's a bill from my landlord reminding me how often I'm talked about due to my late payments— And I'm realizing I've been here two years and I still don't have any money, Even though I've been trying and trying And trying So now I'm crying for other reasons. Thanks a lot, New York. “I'll give you something to cry about” So I did. If there's anything worse than being black in a city that hates blacks— It's being broke in a city that hates broke people. So I haven't spent any money in awhile. Not even on little things, or things I need. I just stay inside, and work, and think And try and really try To figure out how to make money Without having any, or spending any. Cause you can have it, and spend it, but it's always a gamble. Maybe all I needed was a good cry. But now it's not for the right reasons I'm not crying cause something is so beautiful and look at what God did I'm crying because of what I'm sure is just the devil I'm crying for the wrong things Not because of something that's so very beautiful But because of something that's so very ugly With just a wave of the hand And the flick of each finger as it rolls into a crisp closed palm, A flick of birds fell to the ground, bursting with caws Below his stance, and in a flutter of feathers and wings, The evil master, unmoved and untouched, Untouchable in his weight and glory, simply only even mildly and barely smirks at all. He has defeated all and still somehow, not won. Some say it's sure to come, the thing that wants and gathers ties; Some say surely it is yet but withered and then sure again will come It has, five times, and barely waded, Waking in the midsts of my pure eye, The morning light and fog, aye? Ye, they remembers none but our Art, And I'm bound as sure by wing and force Is you to dozens of masses, And ships having sailed but one, Which I have flourished and kept And stocked with these, the masses And yea having spade, and having friends And having honor, there was none past kept and mine, sured; And wicked may as wicked be but evil none truer thou nones't had yet pured, and muted and gathered, I have, And woken and laid and barren and truths do'st tied, And there have been shooken and wait, And m faire'd and barred here, and hereforth My duty it is to forward, forward, my shallows For my shadow, For my golden hour has shined and now you, These caged shall fly, And these thoughts shall sing, And these hour conspired to miss my time daily, And these things, beytraying that— There have no times at all, These walls in holy temples kept, swaying and cadences, and wearing, and weary, And foreign and ayered, aye— and armored. And he, you, does not wish to know but also has known— and does not wish to see, but he, too has blinded, and does not wish to betray, and yet has been crowned, made with guilt and also Shattered, as it was, And shatters, as it came, the wave o'er all us and tide sinking under, and caves and rebels and heart laid bare to surf not suffer, Nor cap nor keeping, nor tied nor honor, No, honor her; No honor came and I have tied also, this tie to mine, and another, and another and another Now forward. Forward! Forward! Damn, Conan's monologues he going deep. Yeah, I guess. He's fine, right? Look, you don't need this. Just promise me. I am sorry. Mr Jimmy has it good, too good Little sister doesn't have a heart. But didn't know it Mister music made it in the industry, too hat Mister rager had a sip at dinner It was all dramatic Stars went falling Crashing down and All it is Ms. Martha Is mismanagement of energy All it is, Ms. Margret is a magnet And it hasn't happened badly since I had a handle on it But I still get sick of madness And I still get sick with city sickness Still, forget the dancer I was sitting on the show, In the audience With my mother, Oh the models, Dozens of them Blondes and ballet buns, the brunettes I was just a lost cause And I wanted it all, the tux and the bow tie I wanted you gone so I looked at it harder Until It became nothing but Clouds in the sky You were stardust I'm a comet Here comes crashing, Had to find the progress report Then I lost it Soggy in the sideways rain It was days and days Do you promise? That's a concept? Do you promise God will be alright, Cause I came running Sent them under cover Sent the men a message Send the man a hammer Sitting in a hammock No one homes the hostile If you don't have anything nice to say Then don't say anything at all And certainly don't come and go As often as you want to It's a game of control; you know The whites, when they still want to own you Somehow I'm all sub so honest, I just—wanted that But only for a man and never bow to another woman Even if on my honor I found us as equals And no one walks the earth as calmly As someone whose never had their lights out Or had their light put out Or their lights turned off Who are God now? Who's our God, man? Who's our God, Math. That's heavy weight, And if you want a biblical fate This is Fallon, And if you watch what you ate You cut calories And if you want the girl back Give it Californian And I'm not towrth much more Than the project housing, Or a handful of candy corn, Conan— But I phone in Oscars, Still no nuts for the rabbit, And if you wanted the bunker back— You can have it. I'm all hands down in a game of poker Heaven doesn't want it Gotta get drunk not once, but at all the goalposts, Gotta count one, not two, the show hosts Too few car parts Wicked, mazes, starfold, gazes Wishes, Martyred. (But pronounced mar-tired} V.O I think about jay Leno a lot. Lately, anyway. I don't know why. I like all the hosts. Somebody. Tell me why Dillon Francis looks like JD Vance. I think he's a clone. Tel me why I know who JD Vance is. They're clones. Tell me why. Back to the future here and now So. Where do you want to go? Anywhere but here. Anywhere but here is kind of far, are you sure you're up for it? Good one, doc Though head of the alumni chapter of the cult-within a cult—to which each African American cast member of Saturday night live is automatically inducted into— EDDIE MURPHY refuses to participate in the group's latest and most complicated ritual. Delivery. Uh, I didn't order any— Breadsticks. What. Breadsticks. I didn't order any— Just— The delivery man hands over the breadsticks. —take them. Oh…Kay. See ya. The delivery man reaches in and shuts the door himself. Uh… Lol is this the one where the mysterious breadsticks are delivered without ever being ordered, and then they end up being the best breadsticks in the world, but they don't know where they came from? Yes. I think so. Lol I bought a planner because so much I loved Joan Rivers, and I planned to fill it with all the places I should go— because keeping anything digital online was not only not working as far as remembering places I wanted or needed to be be, but it was dangerous, also. I was already being tracked, and I couldn't afford a new phone just yet. Eventually, but for now I was stuck to the same signal— which meant the same traces and the same trackers they had been limiting my under-the-radar mystique. As it were, somebody always knew where I was, and it was in the most unpleasant way so far—the only thing I really wandered was what made me so important anyway to begin with. I wasn't actually political in anyway, and still someone seemed to be trying to derail my life… or at least control it, neither of which was beneficial for me in the way that made sense. I wasn't having any fun, nor did I consider living indoors as payment— especially since indoors, there were also paid plants and stalkers, and now that I had begun to more meticulously document the things that were happening, it was easy to separate from delusions. I was actually being followed— but why? Either way, having a detailed. Calendar of places I could go, the ways to get there and even alternate functions within the same grid allowed more control than just staying in my apartment a sitting duck; that's how they were hurting me. They knew where I was— all the time, and it no longer made sense to fight it and try to make music under this kind of insane irritation; the music I was making wasn't the kind I wanted anyway, and whatever war they were fighting with m stark white girls motorcycles was simply not my war. I didn't have a war, and so there wasn't a fight, and so at the very least if I were going to be fucked with, it would have to be in public; that way I had more control to steer whatever was happening in my favor and collect the energy as mine instead of lost. I wasn't an insane person— but what had been happening at my apartment was insane, and so I left it with the understanding that these people worked and operated on a level of violence and ignorance I would never be able to comprehend; they were simply tools for the devil, which in any case, was always the lesser than God. However— because I was starting to figure out who I was, and that I had some sort of power, I knew that I was going to be attacked— because it seemed my power had at the very least not been figured out as to some kind of way to make somebody else money. I had been studying Michael Jackson and this was a key indication that the way his talent priovided a power which would be used as a service, he was very successful. His talent and training alone wouldn't have reapresented with such great reverence the ability to capture a global audience as such— but it was this power, almost as if it had been bottled up and altered, rebranded and sold and labeled with something everyone could not only love and understand, but by the hand of the media and its conglomerates, be hypnotized to worship, and this power simply put would not have been exactly what it was were it not for the eye of the media remaining in complete control of its distribution to the eyes and ears of the public. This thing which might have been the first of its kind but certainly not the last was in a sense model for modern superstardom— the live concert business had not sense much changed but built upon this super powered control of the masses by assimilation, spectacle, and of course the magic and illusion. But, and it it just so happened to perfectly brush up against my studies in esoteric knowledge that I happened to rub up against this— although nothing was of course by mere circumstance anymore, because whether or not I remained incognito was a wash, and I was being looked at by someone no matter what on the internet I did, or where I decided to go and in that sense was being fed these things, and yet with some Grace of God was allowed with it to be aligned with my own higher purpose in a way, I could observe that Michael Jackson was not in fact of course certainly just a dancer or singer or remarkable performer— he was truly a magician, and I was able to clearly recognize this language with with the energy that had used his vehicle for such a projection was speaking— not only this, I was able to clearly count out the markings and sigils and signs and symbols Michael was making in his movement; ancient arts, and magical symbols, traced so rapidly that it almost created a heat signature in a sense of the symbols that were being dictated, unknowing to the untrained eye. For the most part, I could only really assume that this is why these people were losing their minds— in his movements, Michael Jackson was literally carving ancient callings, glyphs and sigils I had so recently read about in magical studies that it was impossible not to laugh. This was in every sense of the word, ‘magic' but not in the normal way one assumes to be something unexplainable. Michael Jackson was casting spells to thousands of people at a time, in front of cameras and at high volume vibration, often times even implementing the use of light, color, and fire. These were not simple gatherings in mass for entertainment purposes— these were rituals, and in the modern day, still were or are— but I had noticed in a quick glimpse, from Michael Jackson 30 some odd years ago to Lady Gaga just having passed something like a week ago to an audience of the same size— that something was kind of wrong, now. The people had changed, and the specable had been done over and over, and the brainwashing of the masses had in a sense been almost complete— and so It wasn't some sense of confusion or unknowing the things that were happening to me in my own life and my own world— I too, was capable of these things, at that capacity, and had simply not been trained in the same sense of the ideal superstar, however— the things that were happening in my own life and in my own world were not difficult to grasp or understand— when one comes upon a power as such, it finds means to seek to control it and harness it for his own use and purposes. Perhaps it was the simple fact that in this way, in the way I get the dream had gone and the spectacle had been played out of the masses and the illusion was no longer as such— that the actual knowledge of distinct ancient wisdom that had been Michael Jackson's natural ability was distinguishable from that of Lady Gaga's training in the same formula, and that one did not equal the other, but in terms of business could equal to that as such as the masses had been manipulated to seek solace in these same things— and it was not illusion or grandiosity that I, even in my agingness, was still capable of these things; I had no doubt in my mind that I could sing and dance for two hours to audiences of hundreds of thousands— but this was not the question for the business or the media— the question was, would hundreds of thousands pay to see me, or rather— who was willing to front the means to hypnotize hundreds of people to become aware of me so that they would do such a thing. My talent and capabilities were undeniable— but my markatability might have been in question, because it was no longer simply a matter or chance or luck: the people chosen to figure such spectacle were chosen, hand selected and well trained to become media conglomerate superstars, even regardless of talent; perhaps this itself was the key indication that the world of the superstar itself had come to an end—it was no longer so much of a spectacle was worth it. Or, perhaps, because money had come between these ancient arts and symbols and languages being spoken by the superstars of old, that the magic in the literal sense had gone all the way away. The symbolism in the art had died, and so the singing and the dancing remained, but the God had gone out of it. Maybe that was the difference. The superstars of today were just the shell of the model that had been built on God, but the Godsense of it was no longer there— and so the magic no longer remained in effect, as the powers of magic that be are in all ancient arts and texts and forms attributive to The Source. Either way, I wasn't going to continue to be a sitting duck in my apartment in Brooklyn— there were too many indications that it had all been a setup from the shelter to the day I moved in, with the motorcycles and cars and CBS studios one block away. So the real and only question was, what exactly had been played at and who exactly was pulling the strings? I might at this point become a loose cannon: my son was estranged and as far as the people were concerned, I mostly hated New York— because the refined, clean cut and classy people I liked and wanted to be around saw me as the dirt and the grime I was fighting my way through just to simply exist— in my mind, this was a world that could be no more. I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress I met sparrow in a cage I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress Keep writing I never thought I ‘d see the day Where i's taking lessons on Fallon From Michael Jackson That's ran That's a fan This is fame I'm insane I'm insane That's a fan Light the flame That's a fan. That's a fan. I like Sara in a dress I met sparrow in a cage I went up the rack, set the page on fire Nordstrom rack And I might take it back for the cash I like Sara in a dress Stay repressed Keep it dark If you kiss don't tell I will probably go to hell for just writing Try it In black ink, I got all spades, Ehy, Spare me the ridicule, the imbecile and I met Johnny in a cage I like Fallon in a dress, Obsessive, I'm dressed out Every day I leave where I do not live Where stalker crawl and haunt me Just to show the motorcycles Have desheveled my intelligence into Nothing And so with negligence, I leave the core of a rotting apple The foreign words of a doctor And You must call the king, says something far off But I wonder which one I wonder which one I so respect her honor That I no longer Follow my heart or my soul And I don't shallow But shatter to swallow So I let the sparrow Out of the cage I bought Sara A pair of pants And I haunt l Patrick Kirkpatrick in patches And haven't you read yet You're ready for forget the pageant? It hasn't happened yet! I love Sara in a dress I hate Fallon and his wife Keep the kids out if it Skull and crossbones Cross my heart and Really hope to the loveless Or else Someone might call my phone back It's on silent in my coffin Or wait— It's on vibrate. I'm obsessed with the way You're dressed And the name on your checks I guess I'm better for it I'll skip lunch if you think that's what's best And dinner, too If you deserve the best Then better have learned my lesson No sweat And to do, With you, Was then, Dinner through next supper All the love I had was Rubbed into something other than The glass I patted dry With microfiber With ever fiber of my being I want to be with you I should have just— Died, And then Did, and so next Life, Remind me not to Fall for it If i really wanted to know you,I would know you by now– If i wanted to have you? I would have had you already Nobody is a dancer after Michael Jackson. I just watched some shit that was like “What the fuck did I just see” The whole thing was just not right. It was-/ I was like First of all, it's Munich, 1997. I never really realized how terribly the world has changed; No cellphones, but the audience is lit, And the crazy thing is, you can tell that this is near the turn of the century because, when the camera is panning by the audience in the people, they're not looking directly into the camera or waving at the camera— not really. And clearly this is an all ages show, so there's children, so the interesting thing I'm finding out is that nobody's trained to look at the camera and wave and smile— except the babies on shoulders and shit. These kids— they're my age now, are the only ones that see the camera, and they look directly into the shit. Mi still can't do that, really— I'm theatrically trained. Haha If I see a camera, I try to act ‘natural' It's the weirdest thing to look at a camera and just start to work it. People at festivals now, the camera rolls by, Or the drone flies in, And they look deadass in the camera and start to work it. Not at this show. Munich 1997, I'm like “Damn, a lot of things is wrong with this” First of all, I love Michael Jackson, I look directly at this man, and I'm in my dirty peak so I have an instant— like a sex detector thing going on And I know people gave Michael a hard time when he was a live for being fruity and whatever But I'm looking at this dude, and I don't see fruit at all. I see 100% man. I see why people were mad at him. Cause I'm looking at this dude, 100% All I see is carnal, primal man. I'm like, “Yo, I see why they was mad at him” Because the camera kept panning to the audience And these people are losing their minds. They are coming out of themselves. They are UGLY CRYING, full out of body, Losing composure They don't know what to do. That's Michael Jackson. He's right there! And the place is huge so really besides these few hundreds of people in the front, Michael's just a speck, But he's working this audience like “Yo, you know who I am, I know who is me” And I'm realizing, that to these people That's their god. These girls are losing their minds m “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!l *crying inconsolably* Just UGLY crying Bitch, get it together . You all the way lost yourself Get. It together. She won't. This bitch. I can't get over this This one girl, They just keep going back to her Cause the whole show— And this is like 2 hours of pure non stop Michael Jackson, This girl, every time you see her, she's just ugly crying— And every time you see her Her cry is uglier and ugly I'm like “Damn bitch” “Daaaaaaang” So this is the first thing I see that is wrong. But there's a lot of things wrong here, Cause there's a lot of girls like this. There's just— hundreds of girls losing their minds, like, I've seen Beatles mania and thought that was crazy, Shit, I've even seen some people put out that kind of energy in the modern world for some dumb DJ's— That's their god— But THIS THIS Michael Jackson mania was mental illness That was hard to watch. That was people just Lost control. I'm thinking “Like goddamn. You— what?!” “AAagghhhhhhgahahahahahqhahahhahaha MICHAELl “These people are sick” But they are. And so is Michael Fame has gone too far, 1997; 12 short years before he died, by chance— So this is what I see, And then Michael starts dancing, And this— This is what I see; I see the only thing that can ever be what it was in that moment in time, as God being God: Michael Jackson. Shiny ass motherfucker, And so I'm watching this show, And all I see is a God being a man being a God being— Michael Jackson— And the whole thing is weird. But the worst part— Yes The worst part Was when, about mid show, Michael goes to do one of his slow, lovey doves songs, And like, this 6 foot 7 type body guard guy, Just pops up out of nowhere, Comes dead front and center to one of these little girls losing their minds, Runs up on her in an instant; You don't even have time to think— And just SNATCHES her— Snatches the bitch— “Ah!” then throws her up on stage with Michael— And he's still singing; this is his game, this is part of the show, he knows— But she doesn't know, And she's just lost her mind, She won't let go She's hugging and kissing on the dude, She's lost her mind, She's ugly crying She's on the floor, She's kissing his hand She's really lost her good goddamn mind— And they pan out to the audience, And all the girls that didn't get picked Are like WHY NOT MEEEEEEEREEEEE?!? THE UGLY CRIES ARE EVEN UGLIER NOW, They're like “Wh—what?” You don't know?! “WHY NOT ME” They're holding each other crying, Michael's just doing his thing, He's unphased, He's trying to play along; He's a professional like a motherfucker; He's just— keeps singing And this girl is just, Losing it, so at this point, it's weird, She's crazy batshit lost her mind all the way, Won't let go of Michael, kissing his face while he's singing, He's kind of unreceptive to it, now just looking out at the audience, almost not even looking at all Just cold as fuck actually, Like she's not there, kissing his face Cold as fuck— And then another bouncer dude— An even bigger one in a blue suit, comes and tears her off of Michael Cause clearly this has gone too far or whatever And I'm thinking “What in the fuck did I just see” Blue suit dude just snatches, Just— He has to tear her off of him! She's kicking and screaming and getting dragged off stage Michael's just: singing. YO. Then they dragged her back stage. Where did she go?! WHO DID SHE BECOME?! WHAT IN THE FUCK DID I JUST SEE?!? WHAT. 1997. You can't do that shit anymore! You cannot snatch bitches like that. I seen. Watch the video. Tell me what's wrong with it. It's disgusting. Not the snatching, Not the— Like, that was weird But the screaming and the crying and the— Like okay, the snatching was bad— But I'm like … ..:: …. Now I see why they was mad. Don't ever forget he was once— A dark skinned little boy, And in his genetics his whole life is still this thing That some hate. But people loved him; they loved him that hard— Screaming, ugly crying hard. I think in that moment you know someone was like “he must be stopped!” And it seems like yesterday was a year ago But I don't want let anybody know… Cause everybody wants something from me now— And I don't want to let them down. My life is over. New York City looks so small from the top of a skyscraper. What are you doing. Then again— my thoughts lately have been grandiose. Back market, eh? What's this for? You need a burner. I have three. Here, have another. For someone whose supposed to be entirely off grid, I'm admirably reachable. Clever vocabulary. Something has to be clever about me, doesn't it? Does it? It must be. Or else. [both men are speaking casually over the delicate process of loading rare guns; some of which appear to be antique, and some—almost even unearthly , as if from somewhere besides our own planet. But, you could say what planet this is at all, actually— this bunker, with no windows and no doors, is apparently hidden in a subterranean layer— the location, unknown. The men seem calm but also quite tired and weary, and seem to know each other well. We can assume they've probably been friends for years. Sickle cell anemia. Does that mean I'm going to die. Animus, I quite like whatever that is, Google. ;) don't mention it. Honestly, you might as well. What. I can't help you with this. What. I don't think there's anyone who can. Beg your pardon. Please, don't beg— but uh… [the doctor pats his patient on the shoulder] Do take care. Gee, doc! I'll try! You should do that. What. Try. The doctor leaves seemingly in some kind of hurry, trading his lab coat for a trench coat and closing the door behind him. The other man pauses for a second in the silence of the weird linoleum room, then ponders on the coat for a moment before walking up to the coat rack, putting on the coat, and then walking out the door himself; as he begins to shut the door, he quickly decides also to take the fedora that was sitting atop the coat rack, placing it on his head before he walks out the door himself, shutting it behind him quietly. You got anything to eat in here? Cereal…some rabbit food ina the drawers, there. Oh, you have salad. That sounds nice. No, rabbit food. [the man presents a large bag of weird brown dry food from the crisper drawer.] …pellets. For the rabbits. How do rabbits get in here? …I don't know. And— more importantly— where did you get rabbit food for them? If I told you Amazon, would you believe me? The man just winces and places the bag back into the crisper drawer. Now listen, I um— If you want cereal, the milk is powedred… I don't— and that's disgusting— but listen— [the man cocks a loaded gun and admires it intensively] (Dismissively) —I'm listening. I've been meaning to tell you something. Tell me what. It's important. Oh, You couldn't have used one of my four phones. Look, it's— You know I wasn't expecting company. Well— You should sit down. The man squints, beginning to listen more attentively. … …really. I'm holding a loaded gun; there are at least three more within arms reach if I do sit, you know. I know. But I should sit? One baby to another says, “I'm lucky to've met you.” Maybe you should. Not all my bad but all my might, And all my mind, The fire, The light. …business or personal. [beat] Both. {Enter The Multiverse} What are we watching?! Shhhhhh! Shut up. What is this? Some.. Sshhh. Shit, I don't know. Sit down. You don't know. SHH it just came on Shh. Ok. When? Uh… (Nobody really seems to know how long it's been. The show just happened to come on; no one remembers how, or why— or even when— But the show is intense as it gets; And it just keeps getting weirder and deeper.) {Enter The Multiverse} I'm transfixed on your soul And it seems I aspire To what has transpired here, Your unremarked and the umpire The spider veins and the way it washes. And watches and waves, and waters over you, And still I seem to think you've won another, Strum to thumb of you. And still I wake to gather here The odds and whats And the twists and turns and the Troublesome you've number some Or stuttered, stumbled conciousness. And withered branches Aces lie and house of cards And aging scoundrels— There you are, the..: Nevermind. Don't belittle my ways if, In the end my thinking may be correct As dumbfounded as I have shifted my lottery bonds tied to none, There ye are again who aren't I, And never were, And weathered now, as I, bound to Struggle under her might, Nothing I was, and nothing I am And nothing I came from but to barter Oh hard love, I only found my kings upon thrown As cast out of another by her likeness, Peace and pale and primed as it was, And wanted for love, As I was not— And then, the gates had opened And I, preaching withered, Gathered my arts and my minds And my eyes, and my thrones, Buried my ark and though not my bones The shallow waking peaks of pride And there you gathered, all as huddled sheep to mine, The cost of war, but certain therefore honored as I have, Happened went, came and untied, shattered Hating all I am and all my dark and all my eyes and all my brown Because you came and went, a baby born to as nothing was but beauty and yet having been gifted such life, Departed! Soon, I wake shattered and with none as it had began, in my time and in time there laid there none, But fortune seeks to favor, as ye are saying brave and yet I neither beg nor make to differ, Shall you come again in part, And in this time as shadows, as shadows As hating and wearing and waging, And shattered I, I pardon, Knowing not they seeking I, And I having none at all but one, As forgotten I shall came And went And followed this, The time y'i call now, And ours and ours, And yours and yours, And mine and mine, Though as one are also, Common not, And waking yet to find, These things making have gone into yer Another of ours, world, Another of our dozens, Shines, Another of our gathered, wit, and waking Though true to fortune, none us have gathered And have embarked to truth, The waking I have come, Another, and another, and another Departed. And yet, I bury my words having weakened to that which is this, Ye have no fear and lest no fortune in these words, For having I to come and gone, since they times In words to make this a language I or neither other Does not speak here, and almost never, And this yours time past, Has come and gone And come and gone And come and gone again, So long so I too have parted but not yet Unfolded as does my nature, As God does. Belittle this, you waking fools, As to this you pity though divine, Is unlike any other And steep remarked in gold and with chimes and words That ye here no often or either now, or in mine speak. Amen …can I go now? You are dismissed. C'cxell Soleïl, aka DJ Ū is an American DJ + Producer, Multi-Instrumentalist, Playwright, Poet, Comedian, Novelist & Filmmaker. She is best known for her unique vocal riffs, Clever Lyricism & Philanthropically Inspired Freestyles and her flagship venture [The Festival Project.™] [Ï A M B ī C], a freestyle studio mixtape recorded in Los Angeles, (Official Release: TBD) inspired the adaptation of a staged musical version for Broadway, and a concurrent multimedia (TV/Film) series and ongoing saga as part of The Festival Project ™ Brand. Inspired musically by an ‘Ultra American' experience of Racially, Binary Ambiguity, and Synesthetic Exploration, her reflective melodies signature sound provides a philosophical dissection of American culture through a careful and inquisitive mastery of the English language, and emergence of world sounds through music brings about ‘A New Era in Nature', and clarifies the establishment of the newest wave in human evolution: Unity Through Music. L E G E N D S What if I just want to be alone in the dark Alone in the dark Alone in the dark Bones Duggar was a long, handsome zombie Bones once was a very tall man Not great and tall, as he stands But average, Grand as it were, his status. Everything's black My heart My pants My home My mind Everything hurts But you don't understand that Like I can Calm the commercial holidays for a moment Who gets the card? Get our your hard earned My head hurts Slam the door man; You can't control thoughts With a wombat Murderer Now that's a hard concept to catch When you haven't a soul When you haven't a card Or a car Or a cat I think I'm vanilla. I always thought of myself as a super kink Like a freaky, freaky bitch. So I got on this app. This app is better then Tinder. Yes. But it is not for the faint of heart. No, sir. They have a test, I'm like “ooh, I like tests” So I take the test. The test was not at all… As I'd hoped. First of all, It was hard. It was not a quiz; It was a TEST And I failed. I realized “Oh my god, I don't like any of this stuff” I am not about that! No! Yuck! Gross. “I think I might be vanilla.” I might be vanilla. I want my hair pulled back like a leash And my arms tied up Like I'm being arrested Without being read my rights. — I want your hands on the back of my neck [breathe] Reach around to my Mortimer's apple Put the lights out, Adam. I want the lights cut off. I want the bills piled up so the phone don't work I want the habit back on Don't talk to nobody I told you, I'm coming No, God! That's dumb! Show me why I'm off all alone with a rattle so bad It's just segmented thoughts, colors and sounds I can't make with all the plugins in the kindgdom of chaos?! I WANT KINGS, AND KINGS WANT BLONDES— I WANT KINGS, AND KINGS WANT BLONDES I WANT KINGS, AND KINGS WANT BLONDES —but the one who could love me is God, And I guess he's not coming. The denial turns to tears, Not songs no more My womb is empty And the sun has turned into Not what I wanted But not my fault We got caught in the land of Cutting costs And processed morsels At 400 pounds And that's where I found What I thought was love But it turns out That it just turns up In the whole form of a person And that's why I got the collar, caller But really I'm no one's lover So I Do what I want I don't hang up on God But he don't got a body And I need someone to love/ Fuck me Please God Don't turn the lights off I'll pull the clock back Just like foreskin, god i want your skin Draped over mine in a warm swath Probably run a hot back Cause the next stop is a closet The line doesn't really move for the Doesn'tMatterhorn. some people are starting to doubt if it's even a ride. Others just admire it for its eloquence as a metaphor. Johnny! You scared me! Aha. Where did you go?! Nowhere— fast! Alright well— Money when you know I have it But I haven't really Paid attention to the never ending Digits never coming in but Simply, there's a secret, Sonny Someday you'll get lessons, honey. Much to find and much to serve and Surf us up Piñata's bout the burst But here comes Vesuvius (POW) Everyone was gone in an instant (Vapor) Had a good laugh that night in the pantheon; Everything's past, and the mortals They kept on running But i didn't want go, God Putting on a show then I blow up Just like the mountain Found her Now I got a broke back husband (hope so) To tell, don't ask Don't show up if you just get lost But I'm probably in the back with a bottle back mountain Now you got a real horse pack. Trip Girl keep camping What was the map with the mask and the Fashion? Pass. I put sugar on the rim of the glass With my eyes half closed And my ass clenched fast shut I'm an alcoholic Don't involve the God I got lost in the mall with the —- UGHHHHHHHH! Hello. Uh, yes— hi. what up. Mirror mirror. Uh…nothing. You're lost? No. You look lost. Oh? Disgruntled. I am that. You're lost? I'm not lost. My friend is lost. His phone is dead. You lost each other. Sort of. Continuity conniption I nipped an eclipse And he picked his nose For a full ass minute Sitting at the stop sign That's a gobstopper's worth in our time Pull all the clocks back, Pull the fool over, You just got fined It was Friday for nothing I was in the hatchback, Scratch that Sour patch Should have called Pat back Now I'm just a Cool 48 in the ring with a date And the cashapp Continuity construction I want a husband! Fuck that. I want a clean cut plus one Since I can't have Helmet, Elmo, Or Hatchetman; Tears of a Clow…no, Wait I lost focus Half finished album Got 6 tracks But I knew it was 12 from the get go Prob‘ly should have knocked off the showrunner; Nah, I'm sure I had that coming Hashtag, undon Could have been you, too If the cash came through Now it's hard times Hardwired Sitting on a hi wire, Little white liar, liar Wait I made Katey Sagal (Fire) Cut off her hair (Fire) Went to the hall of fame with the framed sunglasses Asked for her autograf, But she walked off So I shot her with a bottle/ can, But she ducked, popped back up With the brass knuckles Surfboard Good for a chuckle and a fuck So I asked for her number All that on a Sunday at Gelson's market. Christ, almighty I miss Walmart, I hit hard times. So many places to run, But not many places to hide I think I want to die here I think i want to die. City of corruption… Lay it out and lay it over City of corruption… no, it's not a choice It's a black tie function Right in that very moment Seth Meyers kind of became my defacto personal hero. “Never meet your heroes” Or perhaps it was just his writing team, or the fact that maybe even without there even being anything set in stone or solid at all, [redacted] itself seemed to have a price over my head– It all seemed to make sense; in fact, all the crazy things i was experiencing made more sense than it didn't. But after what felt something like between defeat and maybe even one day really getting justice for all the things that had happened to me in new york– it was that, at best; That without actually meaning it, by all probability, the opening monologue described what in perfect sense the thing that had been happening to me: hundreds of motorcycles and cars riding around in circles for over a year, any time i tried to work or sleep–and then, when I finally tried to reach out to find an attorney that would help, I was made to feel crazy for it. In a way, it was the perfect indication that it had all been some sort of sick game, and that I was more right than wrong, and being set up to appear, sound, or look crazy–but I wasn't. I had been under attack for nearly two years, and when I tried to reach out, my heart raced and my voice cracked, and I sounded crazy and desperate–but what was happening was very real; and now I knew where I was. As it turns out, New York's corruption was more common knowledge to everyone else before it was to me: New York was a common place for fucked up, dirty, low-down mind games: and this was my lesson in that. Seth Meyers in reality had nothing to do with it–and really I only meant to watch Kimmel over my afternoon tacos. But still, though it hadn't entirely anything to do with me, the opening statements rang true to exactly what I had experienced; I was made to lose my mind, only to have everyone around me tell me it was something wrong with me–but it wasn't. Something was wrong with the city, and the building management, and the people around who were making it all to be some kind of mental disorder or problems with my mind–in reality, it was 2 years of being in the center of a speedway, and all the time i'd lost because of it adding to the stress, and the angst, and the depression that resulted. Moo. Moo… Moo. Moo, sir. I'll kill you. You promise? I want to. Don't get me excited over nothing; If this isn't the exit, please take this tease To the left, dear Moo, cow My honor Level one, and brother, you've got nothing Flip the coin and landed on your headache Betting on your helmet Standing on my cock, i'm taller (Not a rooster) But my ops are rooting for you, No informants, Dont you know I was a collar, all along? I was a shot calling, Cop calling Kiss-and-tell all as the night goes on. But oh, I brought you a dollar bra Oh, I bought you for all of a dollar And oh, I'm so much taller, Standing on my cock But i'm not but ten feet tall You know, you wrote that Should i open the book, or close that Caught that cat, owl and As i soft spoke at Every broken model Broken bottle for the thoughts you owe Across the scatters skies and no one ever knows When you're realling coming over Come on, I'm on the pornhub Just to pick up another one Go on, and rub the bottle One more once, To call the Bubbles. Damn. Come. (The Monkey obeys) You should see Michael in all of his godform You won't recognize him at all if not by the eyes When you follow home Believe me, this not comes close to it; The one you wanted The world you jumped to but were just short of Call her back Oh no, you're wrong It's another song A pin up girl And the wrong number Okah. Okah, Pablo. Time can be altered, changed or effected presently in any omnidirectional plane by engaging certain acts or synchronicities within multidimensional parallels or adjacent realms in time and or space respectively. –the reverse quantum simulation theory. Does anyone else smell blood I hate wedding days suits and tuxedos No, I don't know you I'm just here to sound the hundred drums Of the once before us (The ones to come) Then, there we were and I didn't want to admit Again, I was caught into the ghost of the rapture Or the holy hour, No aux chord Show the holy one Just how old you are On these sacr d lands and a holy grounds Now I want here half an ounce to smoke And there were drowning orchestras in all of the hearts And all of the markets, The market the marker And all of the sins of the savior The maytyr Did you remember not to notice not to know him Were you sure with words you were for nickelodeaon! I was supposed to hold on to, Supposed to hold on to Suddenly, it's summer. And always our own are under the weather There was no other wise man the wind. Lee the one came The site came and went and then the songs went left The songs went left; Again, the songs went left Did you win at wintergreen Well, God, I didn't know gym was a game. I didn't know guns we're just portals to worlds unknownn I didn't know gossip was golden What all else didn't I know It wasn't for here! It was fourth flour And in the final hour of the battle I commenced to summon All the gods and all the lords and all the flowers All the worlds of oceans and the Remember, this The remembrance It may not matter to some, What matters to most But until summer comes, I'm still up under the rail And practically it's spring, for the next two weeks I'm all berries and cream and whatever you wanted. Tormaline, emerald and onyx, the fox said And fox says its west when instead it's quite under what of the reporter's offer? Comes down a little to none What of the offer Comes down from a billion to one A billion to one I'm on TV so it's really just a one way screen Either way, I don't think he likes me much I don't think he likes me much I'd rather die than to fall in love even one more time And to keep on just never being loved Never beingbloved {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS Tales of A Superstar DJ The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū Ascension Deathwish -Ū. Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ | Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved. -Ū.

Maybe I'm not afraid because it just feels temporary. The noise in the apartment made it easy to let go, and better yet, because of the noise— the only way a pro bono lawyer might speak with me is if I was evicted— then, explaining away that from the day I moved into the apartment my mental health began to spiral and, that recovery from homelessness and having left an abusive relationship became impossible with motorcycles and modified cars circling like buzzards, gangsters slanging on the corner banging music I hated, and an all around environment of unwellness, in which I was unable to cope with the mechanisms of even the simplest tasks, after being bombarded by these hellish people. I was sure that speaking with one sort of lawyer and explaining my heavily documented case would eventually lead to meetings with another kind of lawyer who would see my case and agree that I had been attacked, and severely wounded— and eventually, probably, compensated. It simply wasn't facet of my imagination but seemed there was sort of hate group targeted to stalk and harass me— even in Manhattan, after visiting the Apple Store, a random pair of motorcycles approached and revved their engines thunderously as I walked back to the studio, even startling another passerby, as she shook her head as if to say “that was horrible”, with this look of fear and disgruntlement. It had been two years of this for me, though, and so I was somewhat used to it. It still hurt, but not the way it used to. Inside, sort of like the way a boxer knows how to take a punch because he's trained for it. But this was not my job, and I was not getting paid, unless I could actually put my mind together enough to assimilate some sort of strategy; a lawsuit against the property management and the city itself for allowing the harassment, and at the end of the day, it didn't much care who was responsible, and whether it was politics or street theatre— I just wanted it to stop. I could honestly say that any sort of legal action was indeed not about the money, but rather an escape. Would I live in New York if I did not have to? Not by any means, anyway, in the way I did. Just the view alone set me off, and anytime one of the foam panels fell out of the window from sun or dust and the lot of cars and busy intersection peered through, a gut wrenching anxiety came over me like the way it did when I first saw it; even then, when I first viewed the apartment, I knew that something bad had happened here before I even moved in— and it was bad, the constant motorcycle attacks, and at one point they were not at all writeable enough off as “normal noise”, the way they used to wait until I was almost a sleep to rip through the block and create sonic booms that sounded like bombs—eventually these kinds of attacks stopped but it was around the first year that I started to realize due to these series of traumas my brain was wired differently.i understood that she's were acts of war, but why? I had no intentions of stirring anything up in this place and honestly, from the start, because I was stuck, I had just wanted to get out. Hold on. I got two jokes. Ok. What was the one about— Oh, it's so simple but since they hate black women so much it would probably make a white audience laugh. My ex punched me so hard, I thought I was going to run for president in 2028. That's it? That's the joke. That not a joke. You're right. That's not a joke. I'm not though. I realized that. Please. Don't hit me. [beat] Unless you hit me hard enough that I actually become the actual president. Then, you're free to assassinate me. Thats the joke? Yeah. What a horrible joke. Yeah. Kind of. Okay. What's the other one? It's the—it's that enter the multiverse joke on the Sean Evans timeline. Ok. (Who is Sean Ryan) Idk. [Sean Ryan was the Showrunner of The Shield, Starring Michael Chiklis and Walton Goggins__which ran from 2001-2007, and also fostered the writing career of Kurt Sutter, who went on to create Sons of Anarchy.] Anyway. One of the contestants from hot ones calls Sean and goes, Sean! And Sean's like: Whaddup? Sean! How do you do this bro? [sean is eating ghost pepper cereal for breakfast with ice cold horchata ) Ew. Nice. It was gonna be milk but SEAN EVANS (Aside) The cinnamon gives it a nice schwing. Apparently, The training for hot ones is a non-stop tolerance-topper. Sean RYAN is always doing his best to outdo himself. Yeaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh! Thats right. Any fucking way. Sean! How do you do this everyday, buddy! Do what? My butthole is burning! I don't have one. You— what? I do not any longer have a butthole. Beg your pardon. I got it removed. What. What. Hold on, it's a multilayer joke. 2x Joke multiplier! Are we still playing this game? OH YEAH! goddamn. I really wanna see this fictional koolaid movie. WHERE'S SETH ROGEN? ROB LOWE is directing an episode of ENTER THE MULTIVERSE. DIRECTOR Quiet on Set! He turns to DRAKE BELL who is reprising his role as TIMMY TURNER. ROB LOWE Sorry, is that triggering to you? Nothing is said but instead he just shoots him a look. really on it with the zingers today. What can I say. I juice fasted and then ate like a normal person so maybe— I don't know. What's that supposed to mean. Everything is temporary. My next run isn't scheduled until after midnight but I might climb on the Peloton for an ironic spin. I owe everyone money. Not in the way that I ever wanted to be this bum, but in the way that all of my jobs have been awful enough that— honestly, I never quit, it just eventually all falls apart. I've been almost fondly remembering the— {Season 5} —summer in Las Vegas I had two awful jobs, no car, no place to live, and One boss who looked like Dillon Francis— And well. INT. LAS VEGAS ATHLETIC CLUB. WHENEVER. ITS OPEN 24 HOURS!!! WHEEEEEE!! Omg that guy looks just like Jimmy Fallon. BEFORE Oh, hi Jimmy. Hey! You finally noticed. I been noticing. You know I'm in a screen, right? You're in all the screens. Not all of them. ALL THE SCREENS A large wall of paneled Televisions hangs above the cardio center. … … MEANWHILE For while, the dude was everywhere. And I mean— Yo! I swear to God— —don't do that! — every time I look at a fucking tv, you're on it! shhh—watch your language! For what! You're on the Telivision, I'm not. You are on the Television! I'm not! —look just— trust me I don't have enough time before we're about to cut to co—[mmerciial!] [cuts to commercial] That dude is weird. Hm. That dude does look like Jimmy Fallon. — and one boss that looked like— Well, you get it. Yes he does. Very much so. Hm. Should I fuck him? Ew! No! What! Gross . No. Take his job! What? This incompetent drunken loser was, for a very short time— my manager. Just then when the car alarm when off, I express my not so subconscious, and must remark To remind my dear audience that this SUPACreature Is exponentially explicit, hence the Sexual exploitation of he who is hereby known As [Not] Jimmy Fallon. He was maybe the worst boss I ever had. If not the worse, definitely one of them. He was always drunk, Slept on the job, Was inappropriately explicit, Sexualized everything, And bitterly racist, Lived with his mother, Had social problems And was, Of course— Completely incompetent. Two hosts sit watching the serason premiere with popped corn. Oh. That's clever That's funny. See, those redactions could have been anybody. They were anybody. M— Jimmy!? Which Jimmy?! Last time I had a visionary dream about Jimmy Kimmel he was holding a white candle. At any rate, they were out of black, and I have no idea what that's supposed to mean, but I can only assume that when any host takes an extended hiatus, it's some kind of Contractual agreement. Ah-hem… Sign it. I don't know… about… that. And why not? This creature is one of the most powerful in the multiverse. [Jimmy Fallon] TINA FEY What. Are you serious. —and that's my time. Just trust me on this— NO. Pretty please! Oh, welL, since you made it pretty. Really? NO. Absolutely not. You are increasingly difficult. I learned to brew at thought at wishing wells Again, I gallop, striving to dance past the forced illusions of a non-corrupt decision, The end is near and also, simply The Division. ENTER THE MULTIVERSE: L E G E N D S — The Rock and And the Kite Part X: The Division Bell Part 10?! Yes. How is it part ten? Where are parts 6 through 9 I don't know. I have no clue. (You have no idea) Oh. I get it. The parenthesis are the voice of God. (It's all the voice of God, These are just more strong dictations.) Fix your diction! Fix your Dick Nixon if it don't swing left; On a finite curve, It switches with any direction, Irregular, my guest; I could have asked that. I have no tact, And no talent, No candles left, I can't relax! I just happen to have What I know I can't stand, And that's— High standards for a man. So I imagined a fantasy. My next run was scheduled for midnight but I'd spent the month suffocating and suffering in waist trainers navigating vampires and I had even been stood over by the actual Devil herself on the subway ride home. What even was the point of running all this way and eating all this well If no matter who I tried to love would really turn to the same old evil thing that wanted me dead in the first place? Being honest, I still didn't know what it was at all— but maybe it was always going to try to bite me no matter what I did. So It didn't matter much when the overdue balance came equal to the amount I needed to purchase club standard CDJs, I didn't care about anything because I was never treated fairly with honest or good intentions. Not even from my birth, or my mother, and perhaps that was the problem. My human perception of the world was trained by this thing who could never really see my value or worth in the way that it would take to be fully loved. Something was always wrong with me, and so something was always wrong with the world. All I knew was, I wasn't panicking though it had been an obvious attack— the email had sent as I orgasmed, after a series of the same old system of stress I'd been in for years— revving engines and long bangs and other methods of keeping me from reaching climax— but it was my body, and so just because I was under surveillance for whatever reason; perhaps they were listening and this self release made them uncomfortable, but I needed it. It had been years since my last loving embrace— since my last touch, or stroke, or kiss— and so yes, while admittedly my senses were out of place, they were also heightened in that I knew what was happening in my apartment was wrong, and the worse it got, the more I kept track of the things that were happening, the better off I'd eventually end up, just by respecting myself and my own time. I needed recovery; running down the the gym to be hatestalker by some half naked model or some egotistical little man throwing and slamming things around was going to do no better for my psyche even with a run considered; instead of a mile of mantras, it would instead become a mile of trying to ignore whatever whoever had followed me into the gym was doing to get my attention. Luckily I had a Peloton in my room and with any luck at all, by the afternoon I'd have all the focus in the world to ride it— but for now I was writing, and thinking, and feeling my insides out after a long month sonic alchemy, which had also resulted in my finally reaching the conclusion that I was indeed being followed around. But why? Lil bitz Yo imagine if Amazon had a comment section. Not like reviews but an actual like— Comment section for the ads and products. Don't act like it wouldn't be the little place to just, like, go. [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS Tales of A Superstar DJ The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū Ascension Deathwish -Ū. Copyright The Festival Project, Inc. ™ & The Complex Collective © 2015-2025 All Rights Reserved

Pools of blood, And pools of dust, And fools, and fools, and fools Pools of love, And pools of list And tools and tools, and tools Pools of us, And Pools of hours And palms of pools D'hors Pools of plants, And pools of listen Pools and Pools and Pools Now, for us, what's at stake has come upon us For whether which now or ever ties have made for us to burn; Ne'er mistake there lust for listens and of ponders, Waterfalls of love and feathers, wanders Ties to honor stars and fore of fathers Almost lost it, there, I– Almost gathered, therefore. [ ] So to us who part ties, Of tied knots and of stomach's wrench To nourish shadows as remains her honor, I, depart my once, I, as flocking doves, The twist'of fated never Bare I fear or fonder Where, where, for again (bare tied as to none) and again wakes as has but not in time, to grove– The box I paved and yet, Set aside not as slabs of stone Or ash and fire But there i wake In cedar pine and oak The turn of slumber as the glow of what I once did not know, Now has shined against My eyes as water Luminescence Oh Goddamnit. Peaking pride, the oath Again i wait and ne'er did I come, but forth I woke, and also thought Not one but worlds of color, And there i know, to heart the seas I parted Not shallow or in shallows waking, red as scarlet blood but mauve, and then, the coping stays of which I gathered here has Agape and aching, wet with pride and courage Forefront others As thought to know, I, And I become, as known, now not and. “All White World” Our ENSEMBLE awakens slowly in the void of light; an all white space seemingly endless and drenched in blinding light; slowly awakening as if upon a cloud, and yet, washed in the drenched brightness of an all white world–familiar and together, but also new; The uniformity of all white attire and the simplicity of symmetry–all alike but of many and also one. I promise there's pancakes; I promise there's porridge I primise there's light at the end of the tunnel (the end of the night and beginning of brunch) And yes, I promise a run And a run for the office (not by far) And not unpardoned I promise to pray And I promise to wait And i promise to ache In the acres I've laid Made of all green pastures And days and days Without saying my name Pass us over Now…. Hiatus, Hiatus, Hiatus! My maples for all of us, cornbread And cream of the coconut (cream of the coconut) Screams from the underworld (Calling! They're calling) And trees of the very best kind; Plush with fruits What a prosperous product A merciless giving A scrupulous foreign (For four eyes, not one on my forehead) –policy! Don't you know, Conan, That all this goes over my– Over my over– Over my Over my head, –like a snowball? Don't you know, though, That nothing goes over his– Over his over– Over his Over his head –no one throws that high! (Not in softball!) ENSEMBLE What an apocalypse! What an apocalypse! What a protocol! What a dunce! What an oddball! Don't you know Nothing goes over Goes over Goes over us Nothing goes over us Nothing goes over Nothing goes over No bombs being dropped And the worst has to come because Nobody's turning this off; It's a turning point Not a mantra! It's a saga And nothing less short than a– Awful apocalypse; Long hiatus and no-low doses of Polymorohypothesis– Whatever that is! Don't you know, Conan, They're all going wrong with us. No, There's no knowing the coat From the hotbox, the hoot from the horus, the laugh from the chopsticks, The room full of products Or coatrooms of corpses No, There's no knowing us But out of nowhere The hour comes running upon us, And so The show must go on The show must go on The show must go…. DIRECTOR CUT! WHAT! That was FABULOUS! I don't disagree with you. However– What is it now? A MAN hangs by nothing but seemingly a very tightly buckled pair of restraints, above his head–the source of the object from which he hangs unknown, he appears to almost float, in fact, in quite the sufferable struggle. Holy fuck, guy. You're still up here? The VOICE comes from above but is yet unseen, it appears as though two very tidy clean white tennis shoes appear to be holding the straps of these restraints in place. CONT'D That's amazing. No false ties, And no hard wars, And no jolly ranchers, Gob stoppers, or nerf ropes. No fruit roll ups, No lunchables, or gushers No hamburger helper And no candy crush Just Drugs And more Drugs And more Drugs and more Morons Donuts, and drag queens, Tim Hortons, And Mormons; Mothballs, and Roaches, And horseflies, And rodents – Now guess which long road you're on (guess which long road you're on) Guess which long road you're aaaaahhhhhh– HALT. Who goes there. What the fuck is THIS. Finally, two acts past intermission, The troll under the bridge has put his cancer in remission The redactions have acted as class-action warfare, McDonalds has sponsored us, But barely. Look: just. No. I'm not endorsing this. Why. Because! It's killing people! Shh! It is! He–'s uh–joking. Actors! Improvising! Hush. Left and right! Speaking of left and right– You know who our sponsors are, right? Of coure! This nonsense! No! The– Shh–! –Owners of this product. Beg your pardon. Do you know who owns this brand and company? No. Well, do your research. Immediately. I highly recommend that. This seems serious. Serious as a heart attack. ACTION! Fuck you! Nuhhhhh–fuck you, you fucking fuck! Look, you lost, alright. Ughhhhhh. It's three to one. Three to one?! Yes. Fuck. Wait a–wait– What. Aren't there five of you guys? What? Huh-huh? No. Yes. There are. No. There's. Why. Five–of us–four of us You're lying. One, two, three *hiccups* four– Strike force “five”? I'm two guys! FUCK. We're missing one. Fuck. They figured us out. I figured out nothing. I'm drunk. I Fluffed. just know the difference–s between Five and One What. Four and Five! okay . Fuck. Well that's right. Well can't we just do it with us. NO! Why not. Because. the singularity has to be in the exact circumstance when this lightning strikes as the first one was. But– That's impossible. It's not–*hiccups*--umpossible. I was 9! “9 and a half!” “The half counts.” But not right now! Because i'm like a 60 year old guy! What! Gross. You're 60?! I think so! Then how old am I!?! I don't know! How old were you before!? I'm your brother! You don't know how old I am!? You're not my brother now, so maybe–I don't know–you never were! *gasps* take that bacK! [The boys fight amongst eachother] Fuck me, man. No thank you. What in the fuck did I write. I don't know but. CUT TO Ooh. Dice. DON'T TOUCH *poof* ENTER THE MULTIVERSE: L E G E N D S “The Magic Dice” (A Triad) NICE. FUCK yOu DUDE. nO fuck U U dElEETED My WRLD. THen is must not have been that great. *exaggerateD gasp* *even more exaggerated gasp* *Fluffs* *fluffs harder* *explodes* [The Festival Project ™ ] MEANWHILE The Aliens Are On A Pirate Ship, There's Still No Sign of [Redacted] and that's what this beat is called. -U. iS this a montage? Idk it just seems like a ship sinking in very slow motion. [A pirate ship full of aliens is sinking in very slow motion in a thunderous maelstrom.] (in IMAX 3D) Wow. I like that. This is fascinating. JIMMY KIMMEL is pacing relentlessly; he is driving the other hosts up a wall. KIMMEL I'm hungry, I want pants. I'm hungry– I want pants– Jimmy... KIMMEL I'm hungry– Jimmy! KIMMEL I want pants! JIMMY! KIMMEL WHAT! I'M HUNGRY AND I WANT PANTS! Oh, is that when— CRAIG FURGUSON has had enough. CRAIG You want bloody pants! KIMMEL YES! I WANT PANTS! CRAIG You know what! Fine! I'll make you some fucking pants if you just–shut UP! KIMMEL AND I'M HUNGRY. CRAIG FIRST THINGS FIRST! CRAIG FURGUSON assembles some very eclectic pants from the drapery inside the mansion; this of course reveals the windows to be boarded up in a highly distinct bunker-like maximum security prison-ish fashion, but THE HOSTS at the very least now have makeshift pants; which are startlingly fashionable: read: bohemian chic. Why do mine have beads still attached? He pulls the decorative ripchord and his fly opens promptly. Oh. CRAIG FURGUSON For emergencies. He continues pulling it in sequence with the matching lamp; he alternates turning the lights on and off and opening and shutting his pants flap in admiration. CRAIG FURGUSON CONT'D In case you really have to go. (Facinated) Ooh! CRAIG FURGUSON is satisfied with his work. CRAIG FURGUSON CONT'D I guess you could say, “The curtains match the drapes” CONAN O'BRIEN (beat) …not mine. {Enter The Multiverse} Fearsome, fearsome friends– Fearsome fearsome few Fearsome fearsome tears Listen whispers Fearsome twin Silly hollows All the lies All that waits is Hollywood and chosen five at ends of times All that waits are kings and wisdom All that knows are far, and farther All that needs is nothing, lessons All that fears is our kind Waiting. Shallow. Whispers, Gaining, Hornets nests and looming , gifted Shadow watchers Our time Farrows, Listen, Glistening as sparrows, Gifted– Kill God, There remains a far price There remains a far cry A call to wolves A false time The fabric is losts on Ghosts and Carry trains, Wishes and Tilted, Whisperers Before our Galaxy of Hard times and Wishes, Wishes, Wilting, Flowers, Waiting, Waiting And Waiting And Waiting And wanting but watching The water Gallons Fly up The wanted Waiting The gallows Have haunted us Far cries, Far cry Fear twins, have shattered To notice us Chatterbox Listens and Life turns and Waiting and Galaxies Gallantly Waiting The gallows Have haunted us Waiting And Waiting And Waiting and Water. We're watching you. An ACHINGLY TALL red-headed fellow finds himself in a FIGHT TO THE DEATH, being cast over eons and decades, and cascaded in and our of portals throughout the ever-infinite dimensional portals of unknown realms as his grasp on life itself and reality begins to fade as he crosses in and out of parallels, one galaxy to the next and one lifetime to another, gripping death and darkness in one hand and light and living in the other. In this bloody brawl, scrawling across an expanse of unknown and unknowable times and realms, this mystic remains still yet as infinite and omniscient in himself as the Gods he looks to for mercy, as the journey has been known to become of these very same deities in its context and process. A folding timeline of blood and sacrifice melds itself into the rope of the materiel worlds; not one fabric of time but many twisted and woven fibers into one rope from which he climbs into the ranks of the upperworld–or heaven, then also slipping seemingly sometimes into the depths of the underworld, a Hell known to all man as this, existence not as one but many consumed in the shadow processes of wickedness and torture, war amongst one another, and the well known humanities of pride, faith, justice and wealth. …this is supposed to be Conan? Uhh… “Achingly tall red-head?” yeah I guess. –O'Brien? [beat] He seems capable. Don't pity me, For not I weep of our pride on doorsteps not allowed, But for the grace and hope of fortune in another world i've known But lest forgotten; Do not feign me for my ignorance in desire, For I am not of man, or woman, or grain, or stone But of the world itself and all ire. (Don't doubt me.) To be cruel not those who pass judgement That weighs in this way or that is utmost critical, In this the end of times and now the end of my desires, And yet the way that I have known, And the offer I have rung Is not here, but elsewhere. And yea, I walk alone. Amen. What the fuck does this have to do with show hosts. Almost always Irish Catholic Almost Always clothed in robes Almost Always fathers, aren't I? Almost always old, of Rome. Almost always birds of feather Almost always sticks and stones Almost always on the airwaves Almost always silver, gold Slither, Slither, Here i wait And Slither slither, Here I came And whether she will slit her wrists Is neither here Nor either there It's a comfort that I offer you to slaughter; That you'd rather not to love but instead murder– I'd be better off to love, then kill you after, Course, tarantula, or just as well, a spider. It's a comfort that I offer you to kill me; Lay my head upon a sanded wooden platter– That you'd rather me to say I'd kill than love you– So I rather just to love, then murder after. Woah. Good to God, God ought to know. I close my palms together full of laughter, So. Good to God, God ought to know, I sacrified my life for ever after. So far. Good to God, God ought to know, That all he wants, I want My heart is surely shattered. Now what. Good as God, God ought to know, That all I want becomes; The looking glass, The wishing well, The cross to bare The shepherd to the pasture. Amen. Omen. All men. Want none. But one. But– So. [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS W E L C O M E -Ū. Copyright The Festival Project, Inc. ™ & The Complex Collective © 2015-2025 All Rights Reserved B A C K Tales of A Superstar DJ

Jason Fraley interviews Otis Williams, last surviving original member of The Temptations, which performs live at “A Capitol Fourth” in Washington D.C. tomorrow at 8 p.m. on PBS. They discuss classic Motown hits like “My Girl,” “The Way You Do the Things You Do,” “Get Ready” and “Ain't Too Proud to Beg,” as well as evolving into a new era with “Cloud Nine,” “Ball of Confusion,” “Just My Imagination” and “Papa Was a Rolling Stone.”  (Theme Music: Scott Buckley's "Clarion")

  BOSSes Anne Ganguzza and Lau Lapides share an inspiring and candid conversation about the challenges and triumphs of leveling up your business. Anne opens up about her personal journey of growth, from small changes in her Pilates class to taking a significant leap in her company, battling the fear and discomfort that often accompany evolution. This episode offers profound insights into navigating change, the vital role of a supportive team, and the power of embracing risk for long-term success. Listeners will gain actionable wisdom on recognizing their own self-imposed limitations, the importance of strategic planning, and understanding that growth, while sometimes terrifying, is essential for avoiding stagnancy.   00:24 - Announcer: It's time to take your business to the next level—the boss level. These are the premier business owner strategies and successes being utilized by the industry's top talent today. Rock your business like a boss, a VO Boss. Now, let's welcome your host, Anne Ganguzza. 00:44 - Anne (Host): Hey everyone, welcome to the VO Boss Podcast. I'm your host, Anne Ganguzza, and I am here with Lau Lapides in our Boss Superpower Series. Hey Lau, hey Anne. 00:54 - Lau (Guest): I'm so excited to be back. It's been a while, you know. It seems like it's been forever years. It hasn't been, it's been years, but it feels like that. 01:04 - Anne (Host): I'm going to say a lot has happened, and so I brought props to show you. So I have... actually, I love props. I care my props. I have actually leveled up, okay? So in many ways. So I have my three-pound weight and I have my five-pound weight. So in my Pilates class, I finally leveled up because when they say grab your light weights, I went from three pounds to five pounds. 01:26 - Lau (Guest): You're now a heavyweight. 01:28 - Anne (Host): Well... I don't know if it's heavyweight, but now, right, it's a change. I've leveled up, and while it may not seem like a lot over the long haul, guess what? It's going to mean a whole lot. And I thought it was such a great comparison for our businesses and how we can make simple little changes. And those simple little changes over time are going to make an amazing difference. And I even got like excited, and I wrote, "No sacrifice, no success." And then here's my little boot necklace to like kick myself in the butt to remind myself. 02:00 - Lau (Guest): We all need that, Annie, we all need that. 02:02 - Anne (Host): I love that, to do that, yeah. So I've taken some chances with my business, and I have done some things. I've made some changes, some not so small, but they've been coming for a while. In my head, they were small, and over time they evolved into a kind of, maybe, a bigger idea for a bigger vision for my company. And I thought it would be great to just talk about the process because it's not easy to level up. 02:27 - Lau (Guest): Oh, it's no, it's not the most challenging thing you can do. And it's funny how you have the thought, the imagination, the dream, which has nothing to do with the actual reality of doing it, right? So you're moving through that reality. 02:40 - Anne (Host): I consider the brain, right? My brain steps, my little steps over time, because I've been thinking about how am I evolving, how am I going to level up, how am I going to make these changes? And so in my head, I was making small changes, right? Until finally, I started implementing those small changes, and then kind of as a, I guess maybe a side effect or after effect of those small changes, then I needed to make bigger changes. And so now I have to say that through the process, it's been definitely a learning process, not only for... I like to say I have a clear direction of where I want to go, I know that, but also things have happened that have been, I guess, scary. They've been monumental, like growing challenges for me, but also moments where I've been... Oh, I get it now! 03:31 - Lau (Guest): Yes, let's hear, what are some of those aha discovery moments for you that caught you? 03:31 - Anne (Host): So the aha discovery, right? The aha discovery of evolving your business and always growing, and I'm always talking about that, right? I'm always talking about evolving, and I'm like, "Oh, I got an idea for this, I got an idea for that." I'm a little bit of a serial entrepreneur, but when it comes right down to it, I think that a big aha moment for me was in the process of doing this, is that I've learned a lot about myself, and I've learned where I myself get in my own way, right? I myself get in my own way, right? And I like to think that I don't, and that I'm all confident, and I'm... Yes, we can forge forward and be successful. But yet there's been some times where I'm like, "Well, am I doing the right thing?" And I second-guess myself, and then when I do that, I learn more about myself. Yes, and so it's really been a learning experience about myself and how there are ways in which I hold myself back, and how when it comes to growing your business, the team that you have in place can do a lot to support you. 04:33 - Lau (Guest): Now, before you go on, Annie, I want to know on a scale of one to 10, 10 being the most terrorizing, before you made the move, because a lot of our clients and talent ask us about this, like, "How do I make these really serious and scary moves?" How scared, terrorized, were you at the thought of that kind of change, which is semi-radical, especially when you're working with people for quite a while? How scared were you? 04:59 - Anne (Host): Terrified, terrified. I mean, terrified. It was a 10. It was a 10. Stress level eating, do you know what I mean? 05:05 - Lau (Guest): Well, thank you for being honest, I would agree. 05:07 - Anne (Host): I think it's true. Headache, neck ache. It never gets easier. No, it never gets easier. 05:12 - Lau (Guest): It's always a risk, a huge risk. 05:15 - Anne (Host): And we've talked about this. It's not like uncommon that we've talked about like taking risks and stuff like that. And even before, I was like, "Yeah, we take risks, we're bosses." And this time I took a big risk, and I think that I really challenged myself to take a big risk. And is it completely successful? I don't know yet, you know what I mean? It's evolving. 05:34 - Lau (Guest): And that's the nature of risk. If you knew, it wouldn't be a risk. 05:37 - Anne (Host): Exactly. I mean, I'm evolving with it, I'm growing with it, and I have faith that I'm determined that it will evolve into something successful for me, and so that I have. But the terror along the way has been surprising. 05:53 - Lau (Guest): Yes, yes, because it never gets easier. It never gets better. No, right? It just gets more, higher stakes, and it's funny. The stakes get higher. Yeah, and it's funny, what were the stakes for you this time around? Can you like break it down for the listeners? How did that work? 06:07 - Anne (Host): I'm going to keep going back to here, like right. So we all know my health journey, right? And my health journey took about a year and a half, right? To kind of come to fruition and get the news that, you know, I was not well, healthy, and I needed to do something about it. And then get to work, right? Focus, get to work. And so I was driven. I had a goal. I was driven. I didn't stop until I got to that goal. And then all of a sudden, I got to the goal and I'm like, "Wait, I have more goals." 06:34 - Anne (Host): And so my three-pound weight was always my weight that when the Pilates instructor said, "Go grab your light weights," I said, "Okay, three pounds," right? Three pounds is what? Before it was like one pound, I'm not quite sure if it might've been two pounds. Then I said, "All right, I'm going to graduate to three." But then just this past week I went to a five, and I said, for whatever it was, I had been thinking about it and thinking about it and thinking about it. Similar to my business. Right? I was thinking about the moves, I was stressing, I was nervous, I was like debating, I was researching, I did all the things in my head to evolve, and then finally, I took the leap. And so this past Wednesday, I took the leap, and I went to five pounds. Isn't that great? And it wasn't horrible, and it wasn't horrible. And now I know that there will be days when I'm not going to want to do the five pounds, but I'm going to push myself to do the five pounds. 07:24 - Lau (Guest): You're going to push, but there was something inside of you. 07:26 - Announcer: This is something I think the listeners have to know this. 07:29 - Lau (Guest): There was something inside of you, this little voice, that somehow knew that you could take it on. 07:34 - Anne (Host): And today was the day you could handle it, even though you felt nervous, scared, and with weights, you actually can get hurt, physically hurt, right? 07:44 - Lau (Guest): So of course you're not lifting 150 pounds, but you can still hurt yourself, right? Exactly. Well, let's transfer that now to your business. 07:52 - Anne (Host): Yeah, I mean, and it was funny because I thought about it, thought about it, thought about it, strategized, strategized, said, "Yes, I should. No, I shouldn't. Yes, I should." Today's the day. 08:00 - Lau (Guest): The back and forth, right, Annie? The back and forth. Yes, no. 08:02 - Anne (Host): And then I said, "Today's the day." Today is the day, right? And so literally, that's kind of what happened when I made the decision after I had been thinking about it, researching, going back and forth, "Okay, I'm going to do it," and then I started it, and it was like building a muscle, right? So I'm still in the process of building the muscle of my business and getting through the growth, right? So I'm going to grow my muscle with my five-pound weight. 08:29 - Anne (Host): I'm going to grow my business, right, with my growth strategy, and it's terrifying, it's uncomfortable, right? It's uncomfortable, but there are little successes that I'm seeing along the way, and that makes me happy, and that gives me the confidence to move on and to continue on my journey. And I know in my heart, right, I will make it work for me in the way that it's best. I think the one thing, Lau, which is interesting, is I always have to figure out what's the fallback, right? What's the worst-case scenario, and can I accept the worst-case scenario? 09:02 - Lau (Guest): What is the worst-case scenario? 09:02 - Anne (Host): The worst-case scenario was I'm committed to my growth strategy for a certain amount of time and a large amount of money, to be quite honest with you. 09:09 - Lau (Guest): Well, that's what I was going to say, that you lose a bunch of money that you don't feel you got any return on or any knowledge on. That would be the worst, wouldn't it? Honestly, I can't imagine that happening with you because you're going to squeeze the juice out of everything, but that would be the worst. 09:25 - Anne (Host): The confidence that I have, Lau, and I think that what we've spoken about as well in podcasts before, and I get excited about this, is that I said, "Okay, I have a certain amount of money, I can make a commitment, and I am okay if I lose this money." It's kind of like... it's like gambling. I was just going to say, I don't want to bring up gambling, but I will, because when I go to Vegas, I say, "Okay, I have a certain amount of money. If I decide that I want to gamble..." I don't really gamble a whole lot, like my gambling money is maybe 20 bucks, just to have fun. 09:51 - Lau (Guest): I don't either. 09:51 - Anne (Host): Because I'd rather spend my money on something that I know I'm getting. Like I'm getting a nice facial or a massage. 09:55 - Lau (Guest): I do too, I know. Or dinner. But doesn't that make it harder for you to make those moves because you're not a gambler? 10:05 - Anne (Host): Well, I'm not a gambler, let's say, in Vegas, but I am a gambler with my business in a lot of ways, because I know that if I don't, I will be worse off. If I do not grow, and I've said this before, stagnancy is the death of me. If I do not grow, that is the worst. And I think what was happening is I was at a place where I didn't feel like I was growing anymore, and I wanted to continue the growth. And I'm like, "How can I grow? How can I get more clients? How can I reach these clients?" And when I really researched the answers, it wasn't within my own industry, because I had my own circle already built, which was amazing, and I love my circle. I'm not giving up my circle, but I needed to get beyond the circle to bring in new people, to bring in, right, new clients, and that was, I mean, really, how was I going to reach those clients? 10:54 - Lau (Guest): So what does that translate to for you in terms of this last move that you just made? I know you can't get into too many details before your launch of it, but what did that translate to you in terms of the team you had and were working with, the new team you wanted to be working with, and the new concept that you had moving forward? What were the action steps that you really had to start taking on in order to realize that? 11:22 - Anne (Host): Well, action steps was, first of all, education and research, right, and understanding. And I was actually put in a situation where I needed to get a new team of professionals that could, first of all, handle my website, because the person that I had worked with for many, many years was not able to continue to do that. And so I was looking for more members of the team. And so in doing so, it's hard out there looking for people. I mean, we've discussed this before, like, do they know the industry? Do they not know the industry? What are their skill levels? And, to be honest with you, if people in the voiceover industry knew website development, there are a few people that do, but there's not a lot, right? 12:01 - Anne (Host): So I had to go outside of the industry to look for people that could handle the back end of my websites, because I got a lot going on. I mean, we know that the podcast here, there's a lot of products, there's lots of back-end workings in the website that set up appointments with me, that handle income and inflows and outflows and that sort of thing. So I needed to have someone that was capable in that to take over. And so in doing that was education, research, interviewing, and then also really having a hard look at the budget, because you know, I mean, I have a certain budget. And I think the one thing that sealed it for me—the go, right, the go, and go after thinking and strategizing and education—was having a certain amount of money set aside that I could risk, right, to move forward and know that if it didn't work out, I wasn't confined to a lifetime of it, right, financially or emotionally. I could get out of it if I needed to, right? And what would be the worst thing that could happen? 13:00 - Anne (Host): Well, I would lose that money. So I was just like, if I was going, I have this amount of money that I'm willing to lose, and now I'm ready to gamble. And that's really what it took. And that, just knowing that, having that security and knowing that I had a certain amount of money I was willing to invest and lose completely, completely, if things didn't go the way that I thought they were and I needed to get out, I was okay with that. And so I think that gave me the green light to go ahead and do it. And now, once I'm doing it, right, there's all sorts of like things that are like... I was not anticipating all sorts of obstacles in the path that I did not anticipate. 13:38 - Lau (Guest): Tell us about a few of those obstacles that you ran into. 13:40 - Anne (Host): Well, you know, if you're working with new people, they don't know you, right? They may or may not know your industry. These people did not know my industry, and so they need to be educated so that they can do the best job that they can. The amount of time that I spent educating it's amazing because, you know, I've been in this industry for, I don't know, 17, 18 years, and people that have been working with me have been working with me a long time, so that's a lot of years. Once you work with someone or, you know, you get to know them for that long of time, it's great, because you know the process, you know the industry, you know the person you're working with, you know what they're expecting. When you have new people, it's a whole new relationship, right? And it's like a new client, right, a new voiceover client, where I always loved voiceover because you got in and you got out quick. 14:25 - Anne (Host): A lot of times, yeah, you had a client that kept coming back. You developed a relationship, and typically it was an easy relationship because they've liked what you've done, and they were happy with it, and there was never really, for the most part, you're not having difficult moments within that relationship. This one, I am an owner of my business, right? I need to have it run in a particular way, so it's not like I'm the boss this time, right? Before, my clients, they're the boss, right? I have a skill that I'm providing, and I'm providing audio to them. They like it, they accept it, they pay me. It's great. They come back. Right, they give me new stuff. They like it, they accept it, they pay me. It's great. This, I'm the boss, right? I have to like it, I have to accept it, and I have to say, "This is great. This is moving my business forward." So I have to do a lot of assessment along the way, especially with new people who may not be familiar. 15:12 - Lau (Guest): Now I have a question about that, okay, because we get a lot of questions about this. Folks come in and feel like, "I'm working on a voiceover career or an actor career. If I need to hire people or I need to get a vendor to serve me in a particular service, they come in, they have their expertise. I pay them, they do it." The problem is they're missing the link of how much education and management you have to do when you hire a person, a consultant, a team. It's any person. It is not like, "Here, do my website, and I'm done, and I'll see you in a couple of weeks when it's done," and that's time consuming. Can you take us through, right, can you take us through a little bit of the process of how you are managing this new, brand new team of people who may or may not have the expertise in this industry? How are you managing those people? What does that look like in terms of time and in terms of effort? 16:05 - Anne (Host): Oh, it's a lot, it's a lot of time, it's a lot. It's more time than I anticipated, and I forgot. I mean, because I had gotten almost complacent because people knew me so well, right? I mean, and so now I have to educate new people, a new team, on how I want my business to move forward and who I am and certain things that I expect. And so the amount of time that was required, I did not anticipate. I thought it would be easy, but it's not. And it's interesting because it kind of brought me back to, you know, you think things are just automated and my web girl, I've worked with her for 15 years, she knows me, she knows exactly like what I love, she knows if I say I need something on my website, she could do it. I didn't have to like micromanage at all. Now, all of a sudden, right, there's a lot of time spent educating the new team on, "Here's the practices and the procedures. And this is the way that I like it, because I'm the boss, right?" That amount of time that I'm managing, and I don't like to micromanage. What I like to do is educate enough so that I can say, "Go be creative, do it." It's so funny because, no matter what they do for you, right, they have to know who you are and your brand in order to be able to help you grow your business further. 17:17 - Anne (Host): And I literally went to the boot. Again, I go back to the boot, but I went shopping yesterday. I had a gift card to spend it at this Western store, and I got a cowboy hat. I got a cowboy hat, it's really cool. And the guy branded it for me on the inside of it, and I said, "Well, I love branding." Right, I love branding. "Let's do my initials AG." You know, that's like my website, it's everything. So he has the branding AG. And then I said, "Oh, I like those stars. I'm a star, make me a star." And the way he branded me, he floured it. Like every time he put that branding iron on the hat and he picked it up, it was branded. It was like a big flourish. And I'm like, "I don't care what you do or how many stars you put on it, you're creative. He's like, 'Oh, I'm a creative person, you do your thing, I trust you. You can put as many stars on there as you want, but I'm a star.'" So he's like, "Okay." So I let him like creatively flourish with my brand. But I gave him the specs on, "Here's my AG brand, and I need it to look like this. But now you can flourish and enhance the brand." 18:15 - Anne (Host): It's kind of what I'm doing with my business, right? I'm allowing people to do what they're good at, and that's a big thing. Like to kind of give up the control to allow the people who are experts in what they do, like I'm not a graphic expert, right? I need a graphic expert to create beautiful graphics for my website or a beautiful graphic for my social media, and so that's what they do, right? So I'm like, "Here, here's my guidelines, here's the brand, here's what it looks like for the most part, but put your creative flourish on it," and I love that. That's how I want to be able to manage people. I want to be able to have people that I can say, "Here, here's your baseline, your guidelines for the business. This is how I need it to sound, this is how I want to be represented. Go ahead, put your creative flourish on it." 18:58 - Lau (Guest): Do you feel like, Annie, especially if it's a company that has never worked with someone like you or someone like this brand or even in the genre of the business, do you feel like you can trust them to go off and create? Because there are so many questions that come up about the products and services themselves, do you feel like you can sort of take that step away, or do you feel like in the first couple months you don't? 19:23 - Anne (Host): I do need to be on top of the matter for the first couple, because I, yes, and that's what I'm finding, is that I do have to say, "No, this isn't quite what I need. Let's make adjustments," and they need to be willing to make adjustments while they get to know. It's a mutual, we need to get to know each other. 19:38 - Lau (Guest): Okay, so I have a question about that. How do you determine—this is a common question of all of our talent and clients—how do you determine how to bank hours according to what you're paying your marketing team to bank hours in order to educate, collaborate, go back and forth? How do you negotiate that with your company, not really knowing how much time they're going to need to figure it out? 20:06 - Anne (Host): Well, honestly, like, no sacrifice, no success, right? I am sacrificing a lot of my hours to do all the checking and then making the corrections and saying, "No, this, not this, this." And so for me, it's a sacrifice, right? It's a sacrifice of my time. I have to make sure I allocate time to be able to do that to educate them. But the better I can educate them right in the beginning, the less time I'm going to have to spend later on. That's the way I feel, and the easier it'll be for them to get to know me. I don't think that there's any lack of content about me out there, so, like there's lots of help if people need to know who is Ann Ganguzza. 20:43 - Lau (Guest): But the question is that a lot of people are going to be wondering is what if they want to hire a marketing team? What if they want to have a marketing consultant, right, working on? How do they know how much that investment will be, not just time but money, how much that investment will be based on the kind of education and back and forth that they will need to do with that team? Even if they're in the industry, they're still going to need to do it. 21:07 - Anne (Host): Yeah, it's probably more than you anticipate. You think that you can just say, "Here, create a graphic," or "Make my website." But there's so much that, again, because we are personal brands out there, right, in this industry. We are personal brands, brands out there, right? In this industry, we are personal brands. There's so much of us that is invested in representation and what we look like, what we sound like, how we're being sold, right? There's so much of us that, if we are not able to educate a team on who we are, right, and how we need to be represented, right, you need to be able to allocate that time. So the way that it's working with my team is that services are rendered. I mean, I don't pay for every version of a graphic. They basically do it until it's right, and that's how that works. I pay a blanket fee. 21:53 - Lau (Guest): Do they give you an amount of hours that they're willing to budget in for the month? 21:55 - Anne (Host): Nope, nope, that's great. There's no, yeah, there's no, not in a contract, let's put it that way. And so that was something that actually it's a really great question, because that was something that I wanted to make sure of. I mean, when we went back, right, "Here's what I need. I need to have this, this, this and this. Are you able to provide that, right, and are you able to provide revisions, right, without additional charges?" There's no charges. I'm paying a retainer fee, and so there are no, at least in the contract. There are not, right. There are not. There is a statement of work. There are timeframes. So if I need this to be done on my website, I should expect it to take this long. 22:40 - Lau (Guest): Right. Now, I have a question about that, Annie. If they're doing socials, which they're engaging in SEO, but also an engagement for you, right? They're doing socials in terms of engagement, they're doing graphics. 22:52 - Anne (Host): They're doing some graphics. They're doing graphics. 22:55 - Lau (Guest): But do they actually go on and engage in your voice? 22:57 - Anne (Host): I'm engaging right now. Okay, the question is, though, for people who need help, they would. They would. 23:02 - Lau (Guest): Well, that's the question I have. 23:03 - Anne (Host): If I wanted them to, they would, but I want to engage with the people as long as I have the time. I want to be able. The initial like impression of me and then if there are comments or questions, I like to engage for now, until there are some questions that they can handle on my behalf. But I don't want to misrepresent or people to think that, "Oh, somebody besides Ann is answering." For the most part, I'm interacting with any engagement that happens. They just need to provide the initial wow for the engagement. 23:37 - Lau (Guest): I got you. I got you. 23:38 - Anne (Host): But they would. They said they would, and I actually... We never actually went into that, because that's not what I'm having them do right now. I'm more concerned with them getting the website SEO going, doing some SEO work. They're doing a lot of SEO work for me, which, again, I wanted to be able to expand my reach and to be found outside of the circle that I was in already. 23:57 - Anne (Host): So that requires a lot of keywords. It requires a lot of going back to content that I've produced, creating new graphics for it, creating new titles, creating new words, you know, new content, new descriptions. And so, for the most part, I am approving all of that, and if it needs to go back to the drawing board, I basically correct it and say, "No, let's do this, let's do that." Again, I'll say, "I would never have said this, right, or I would never say this. This is not the proper terminology for this industry." So that's the one thing is that they don't necessarily know the terminology in the industry, nor do they know like, graphically, like, what microphone should I represent? Like, no, do not put a dynamic microphone. 24:39 - Lau (Guest): So you're doing that kind of team, and it's good for our listeners to just know, like, why are you doing this when you could do it yourself? But the expertise of an ad team like this is not only graphics and graphic design, but it's also how to reach your target markets. 24:57 - Anne (Host): Yes, and a different perspective, Lau. That's the other thing that I want to say is, the biggest benefit of this is it's great to have people in the industry, and I still have people in the industry that are doing work for me, but also having a perspective that's outside of the industry, because, again, I need to get outside of the bubble that I'm in, right? And so how do I do that without a different perspective? Right, I want to attract corporate clients. Right, I want to attract corporate clients for my voiceover. How am I going to do that if they're not in my circles already? Right, how am I going to reach outside? 25:28 - Anne (Host): And so a lot of it was to have somebody that does that for all industries to be able to do that for me, and then also, basically, to give me the perspective, like, so that I don't get in my own way, because I've literally had to say, like, "Do you think you should put my face on that graphic right now?" 25:47 - Anne (Host): "Because doesn't that seem too assuming, you know?" And I get all like, here I am getting in my own way, and they're like, "No, no, no, no, because at this stage of the sales funnel, right, they don't know you yet, and so you need to represent your face in that confident way, blah, blah, blah, blah. Later on down in the sales funnel, when they know you, then you don't have to repeat that." So they're experts in that, and basically there's a lot that I'm learning from them, and they're learning a lot about the industry from me. And we're collaborating, and that's the one thing that I do like is that it's in a very collaborative sort of way, and it wasn't without many interviews, by the way, and what's cool about that is they become... 26:31 - Lau (Guest): Yes, you're educating them about the industry and how they need, and people are going to be seeing and thinking about you that are not esoteric, they're not in the industry, they're people that are in the universe. Corporate people, people who might hire me for a voiceover. Yeah, I just want to say, though, that that is a perspective that we all lose along the way. 26:53 - Anne (Host): We do. 26:54 - Lau (Guest): Because we get so involved in the audience that we're currently with, we think everyone is like that. Everyone sees it that way, when really it can be quite opposite to that, that they see you as something totally different than what you think they're seeing you as. 27:07 - Anne (Host): Yeah, and that was the biggest education for me and the biggest takeaway is that it's a growth experience. 27:15 - Anne (Host): Growth is not always fun. Growth is not always fun, growth is not always easy, but growth is to me a sign of moving ahead and moving forward. And so, as long as I can accept that, and I can accept the beatings along the way and the discomfort, and the discomfort, you know, you've got your triumphs and celebrations and exciting moments, but you also have, yeah, you got to work that out. 27:37 - Anne (Host): Work out my stress, work out my stress. I love it. But it's all good, guys, and bosses. I guess this whole discussion today was like really small steps can really mean large growth for you in the long term. And for me, it was a bunch of tiny steps in my head, and then it was just kind of a leap of faith, right, once I said, "What's the worst that could happen?" 27:57 - Anne (Host): Right, I have accepted the worst thing that could happen. And I remember that's so funny, Lau, because in the beginning of time, I feel like in the beginning of time when I graduated college, right, a thousand years ago, a thousand years ago, when I graduated college and I was trying to determine whether I should accept a job in New Jersey, right? Should I move my young butt to New Jersey in a place that I didn't know anybody, all by myself, right, and work for this company? And I said, "You know what? It's scary, but I'll give it a year, and if it doesn't work out in a year, guess what? I can move home." The worst thing is, I don't like it and I move home. 28:31 - Anne (Host): So I did the same thing with my business, and I'll tell you what, Lau, it really puts things in perspective. I said, "Okay, I have a certain amount of money that I can lose, that I'm going to invest, I can lose it, and I'm okay with that, as long as I grow along the way. And if I grow along the way, I have such an education." To me, I'm like, "This is great, now I can move forward." 28:50 - Lau (Guest): I'm with you, totally, I'm with you. Now, one more question: To the people who are not leveling up quite in that way. Maybe they're in an early stage, earlier stage. They say, "I need this, I love this, and I want this, but I don't know if I have the extra money, I don't know if I have the extra capital for this." What do you say to those people that are a little bit tighter on budget, a little bit more worried about paying the rent, a little bit earlier in the game, or maybe they're not, maybe they've been in it for 10, 15 years, but they're still worried about the tight purse strings? What do you say about that? 29:21 - Anne (Host): Well, okay. So tight purse strings are one thing, right? I mean, you either do what you have to do to get the money. You put it in savings, you save for as long, earn it. 29:29 - Lau (Guest): Yeah, you work at Dunkin' Donuts. You know what I mean? Beg, borrow, steal it, as we used to say. Make me my iced coffee at Dunkin' Donuts. 29:35 - Anne (Host): You do whatever you do and you put it away, and then you say, "I've got this amount of money to invest." 29:40 - Lau (Guest): That's if you actually need the cash, right? Yeah. 29:42 - Anne (Host): And if it's not just cash and you just don't want to work, do you know what I mean? Like educate yourself. Like spend the money, invest the money in yourself. If you don't have money, it's time. 29:55 - Lau (Guest): Right. Beg, borrow, steal, right? Don't. I think you're also saying one really important work ethic thing that's a bottom line too, is you got to work harder? 30:00 - Anne (Host): Not only smarter. 30:02 - Lau (Guest): You got to work harder. I don't know why people threw that out the window. "Work smarter, not harder." Well, you kind of have to do both. 30:09 - Anne (Host): You have to do both. You have to work hard and work smart, right? Yeah, you do, and that's actually, I love that you said that. You really do. I mean, people know that I work. I mean, I'm just, I'm working extra hours right now. 30:19 - Lau (Guest): I'm not calling you a slob, but you're a grinder. You know what I mean? You are a grinder. 30:24 - Anne (Host): I always have been, but more so than I really want to. But my ultimate goal is so that I'm not going to have to work so hard in the future. Right? And again, if I were stagnant, right, and I just got kind of complacent, then that's almost worse. 30:37 - Lau (Guest): Yeah, but I know you. I know you. I don't think you're ever going to retire. You're not the type. You'll be on the phone at 98 going, "Wait a second, are you saying this?" I mean, you do have too much love and passion for everything that you're doing, and you know that's what really drives us at the end of the day. It's fun, there's got to be a fun factor. 30:55 - Anne (Host): Well, I think it's like a game. It's a game I play, you know, in a way. 30:59 - Lau (Guest): I mean, there's strategy, you want to win. Exactly, it's a very creative game for me. 31:05 - Anne (Host): So I think that, bosses, we all have to play that creative game. We all have to not just want to win at our performance and be in the booth and do a great job, but also win at our businesses and play the game. I mean, play the game. It's not a bad game to play, it's a fun game if you allow it to be, right, even though I'm telling you, I have discomfort, I'm stressed, but I enjoy the journey. 31:27 - Lau (Guest): I enjoy the journey. And remember what makes it successful, Annie, is that you're the designer of the game. Yes, you get to not only play the game, you get to design it. So don't lose out on the design element. That's the beautiful thing about it, right? 31:37 - Anne (Host): We're designing our own game. 31:39 - Lau (Guest): Our businesses are similar in the industry, but they couldn't be more different in the way they're designed and executed, and that's the beauty of what we do as creatives. Is that, and any industry that you run your own business, no two restaurants are really the same. 31:53 - Announcer: There's different designers. 31:55 - Lau (Guest): So have fun with that. 32:02 - Anne (Host): So guys, do the work, do the work, Make the small changes. 32:04 - Anne (Host): Yeah, Lau it's been amazing. Thank you so much for all your love and encouragement too. You are a big part of my team and I love having encouragement that does help, because you don't feel so all alone and I'm not also like, oh my God, am I doing the right thing? So yeah, guys, I'm going to give a great big shout out to our sponsor, ipdtl. You, too, can connect and network like bosses, like Lau and myself. Find out more at IPDTLcom Bosses. Have an amazing week and let's go build those muscles. All right, bye, bye. 32:33 - Announcer: Join us next week for another edition of VO Boss with your host, Anne Ganguzza, and take your business to the next level. Sign up for our mailing list at vobosscom and receive exclusive content, industry revolutionizing tips and strategies and new ways to rock your business like a boss. Redistribution with permission. Coast to coast connectivity via1 IPDTL.  

Andrew For America talks about Palantir company and how the intelligence community and our government are working together to create a nation-wide AI computer database which will hold the personal information for every single American citizen. They will have it all...it will be the end of privacy as we know it. Andrew also talks about Project Stargate which is a construction project happening in Abeline, TX that will become a virtual hub for all things AI surveillance, involving Palantir and companies like Oracle and Open AI. Andrew plays clips from co-founders of Palantir, Alexander Karp and Peter Theil, as well as Sam Altman, Edward Snowden, Larry Ellison, Donald Trump, and others to help illustrate his points.The song selections are the songs, "Hope Remains" and the song "Beg to Differ" by the band In 2 Months.Visit allegedlyrecords.com and check out all of the amazing punk rock artists!Visit soundcloud.com/andrewforamerica1984 to check out Andrew's music!Like and Follow The Politics & Punk Rock Podcast PLAYLIST on Spotify!!!Check it out here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1Y4rumioeqvHfaUgRnRxsy...politicsandpunkrockpodcast.comhttps://linktr.ee/andrewforamericaFollow Future Is Now Coalition on Instagram @FutureIsOrgwww.futureis.org

With the realization that SOMETHING is fucking with them, the Scoobs get into investigation mode! Spike is HANGRY, and while dipping to grab some animal blood Willow runs into Andrew! She brings him back to chez Summers. Anya and Xander hilariously volunteer as tribute to question the dweeb as Buffy keeps an eye on Spike. Rewatch, Listen & Laugh as we talk about bloody teats, our favorite moment concerning Stuffy assholes, and we BEG @tommylenk to come on the show!And don't forget to follow us at the_rewatcher on Instagram for special bonus content!!See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Dr. Shaalan Beg and Dr. Kristen Ciombor discuss practice-changing studies in GI cancers and other novel treatment approaches that were presented at the 2025 ASCO Annual Meeting. Transcript Dr. Shaalan Beg: Hello, I'm Dr. Shaalan Beg, welcoming you to the ASCO Daily News Podcast. I'm a medical oncologist and an adjunct associate professor at UT Southwestern Medical Center in Dallas, Texas. There were some remarkable advances in gastrointestinal cancers that were presented at the 2025 ASCO Annual Meeting, and I'm delighted to be joined by Dr. Kristen Ciombor to discuss some exciting GI data. Dr. Ciombor is the Ingram Associate Professor of Cancer Research and a co-leader of Translational Research and the Interventional Oncology Research Program at the Vanderbilt Ingram Cancer Center. Our full disclosures are available in the transcript of this episode. Dr. Ciombor, it's great to have you on the podcast today. Dr. Kristen Ciombor: Thanks, Dr Beg. It's great to be here. Dr. Shaalan Beg: Alright, let's kick it off. Big year for GI cancers. We'll start off with LBA1. This was the ATOMIC study sponsored by NCI and the National Clinical Trials Network (NCTN) and the Alliance group. This is a randomized study of standard chemotherapy alone or combined with atezolizumab as adjuvant therapy for stage III mismatch repair deficient colorectal cancer. Dr. Kristen Ciombor: I think this study was really definitely practice-changing, as you can tell because it was a Plenary. But I do have some concerns in terms of how we're actually going to implement this and whether this is the final answer in this disease subtype. So, as you said, the patients were enrolled with stage III resected mismatch repair deficient colon cancer, and then they were randomized to either modified FOLFOX6 with or without atezolizumab. And that's where it starts to become interesting because not many of us give FOLFOX for 6 months like was done in this study. Obviously, the study was done over many years, so that was part of that answer, but also the patients received atezolizumab for a total of 12 months. So the question, I think, that comes from this abstract is, is this practical and is this the final answer? I do think that this is practice-changing, and I will be talking to my patients with resected mismatch repair deficient colon cancer about FOLFOX plus atezolizumab. I think the big question is, do these patients need chemotherapy? And can we do a neoadjuvant approach instead? And that's where we don't have all the answers yet. Dr. Shaalan Beg: Yeah, but it has been great to see immunotherapy make its way into the adjuvant space after having made such a big impact in the metastatic space, but still some unanswered questions in terms of the need for chemotherapy and then the duration of therapy, which I guess we'll have to stay tuned in for the next couple of years to to get a lot of those questions answered. Dr. Kristen Ciombor: Yeah, but a big congratulations to the study team, to the NCTN, the NCI. I mean, this is really a great example of federally funded research that needs to continue. So, great job by the study team. The DFS 10% difference is really very large and certainly a practice-changing study. Dr. Shaalan Beg: Yeah, and and sticking with colon cancer, and and this another federally funded study, but this time funded by a Canadian cancer clinical trials group was LBA3510. This is the CHALLENGE study. It's a randomized phase 3 trial of the impact of a structured exercise program on disease-free survival for stage III or high-risk stage II colon cancer. This study got a lot of buzz, a lot of mainstream press coverage, and a lot of discussions on what that means for us for the patients who we're going to be seeing next week in our clinic. What was your takeaway? Dr. Kristen Ciombor: Yeah, this is a really interesting study, and I was so glad to see it presented because this partially answers one of the questions that patients always have for us in clinic, right? You know, once they've completed their standard chemotherapy and surgery, what else can they do to help prevent recurrence? And so we've always known and sort of extrapolated that healthy lifestyle habits are good, but now we have data, particularly in these patients. Most of them were stage III colon cancer patients, those had high-risk stage II cancer. And basically, the goal was to increase their physical activity by at least 10 MET hours per week. So, my big question, of course, as I came into this presentation was, “Okay, what does that mean exactly? How does that translate to real life?” And really what the author presented and explained was that basically most patients could hit their target by adding a 45- to 60-minute brisk walk 3 to 4 times a week. So I think this is very approachable.  Now, in the confines of the study, this was a structured exercise program, so it wasn't just patients doing this on their own. But I do think kind of extrapolating from that, that this is very achievable for most patients. And not only did this prevent recurrence of their prior cancer, but actually the rate of new primary cancer diagnoses, was less, which is really interesting, especially in the breast and prostate cancer. So this was a really interesting, and I think practice-changing study as well, especially given that this is something that most patients can do. Dr. Shaalan Beg: Yeah, and there was a lot of discussion in the hallways after the presentation in terms of how this really changes our existing practice because most folks already recommend exercise as a way for improving outcomes in cancer patients. So we've already been doing that. Now we have some data on how much it can impact the benefit. But there was some discussion about what the actual degree of impact was. There was a drop-off rate in terms of how long folks were able to stick with this exercise regimen. But you've seen this in clinic when someone have their surgery, they have their chemotherapy, they've been so intimately involved with the oncology world, with the oncology practice, and they somehow feel that they're being let loose into this mean, angry world without any guidance and they're looking for something to do. “What more can I do in terms of my lifestyle?” And then here we have very solid data, as solid as can be for an intervention like exercise, showing that there is an impact and you can give a prescription for exercise when someone wraps up their chemotherapy for colon cancer, thanks to the study. Dr. Kristen Ciombor: Yeah. It was a great study. Dr. Shaalan Beg: Moving to gastroesophageal cancer, another late-breaking abstract. This is LBA5. The MATTERHORN trial was a phase 3 trial of durvalumab plus FLOT for resectable GE junction and gastric cancer. And again, another area where immunotherapy has made an impact, and here we're seeing it move closer for earlier-stage disease. What was your take-home for the MATTERHORN trial? Dr. Kristen Ciombor: Yeah, so this study looked at neoadjuvant perioperative durvalumab plus our current standard chemotherapy of FLOT versus placebo plus FLOT. And this was a large study, almost 1,000 patients were randomized. And the primary endpoint was event-free survival, and it was definitely met in favor of the D + FLOT arm, as Dr. Klempner discussed after Dr Janjigian's presentation. I do think there are still some unanswered questions here. Overall survival is not yet mature, so we do have to wait and see how that shakes out. But it's very interesting and kind of is reflective of what, as you said, we're looking at earlier and earlier lines of therapy, particularly with immunotherapy, in these GI cancer spaces. So it makes a lot of sense to test this and and to look at this. So the toxicity was pretty similar to what we would expect. Primary endpoint was met, but again, we'll have to wait and see what the survival data looks like. Dr. Shaalan Beg: Yeah, and in oncology, we know, especially for treatment that does add additional cost, it does add additional potential toxicity that we want to see that overall survival nudged. I did see some polls on social media asking folks whether their practices changed from this, and I think the results were favoring adding durvalumab for this group of patients but understanding that there are caveats to the addition of treatments and the eventual FDA approval in that indication as well. Dr. Kristen Ciombor: Exactly. I completely agree with that. Dr. Shaalan Beg: All right. How about we stick with gastroesophageal cancer? LBA4002 was trastuzumab deruxtecan versus ramucirumab plus paclitaxel for second-line treatment in HER2-positive unresectable or metastatic gastric cancer or GE junction cancer. This was the DESTINY-Gastric04 study. And again, antibody-drug conjugates making a big impact across different diseases. And here we have more data in the HER2-positive gastric cancer space. Your thoughts on this study? Dr. Kristen Ciombor: Yeah, so this is a really important space in gastroesophageal cancer because the HER2 positivity rate is fairly high as compared to some of our other tumor types. So, I do think one of the important things was that patients did have biopsy confirmation of HER2 status, which was very important, and then they were randomized to either T-DXd versus the kind of second-line standard of ramucirumab-paclitaxel. So this was a great practical study and really answers a question that we had for a while in terms of does anti-HER2 therapy in the second-line really impact and improve survival. So we did see a statistically significant improvement favoring T-DXd. I do think it's always important to look at toxicity, though, too. And there was about almost 14% rate of interstitial lung disease, which of course is the most feared toxicity from some of these antibody-drug conjugates, especially T-DXd. So I do think it's important to keep that in mind, but this is definitely a great addition to the armamentarium for these HER2-positive patients. Dr. Shaalan Beg: And pancreas cancer was on the stage after a very long time with a positive clinical trial. This is Abstract 4006. These were preliminary results from a phase 2 study of elraglusib in combination with gemcitabine/nab-paclitaxel versus gemcitabine/nab-paclitaxel alone for previously untreated metastatic pancreas cancer. This is a frontline clinical trial of gemcitabine/nab-paclitaxel plus/minus the study drug. There were other cohorts in this study as well, but they reported the results of their part 3B arm. And great to see some activity in the pancreas space. And your thoughts? Dr. Kristen Ciombor: Yeah, we definitely need better treatments in pancreas cancer. This was a very welcome presentation to see. The elraglusib is an inhibitor of GSK-3beta, and it's thought that that mediates drug resistance and EMT. And so this is, I think, a perfect setting to test this drug. So patients basically were randomized. Patients with metastatic pancreas cancer were randomized 2: 1 to gemcitabine/nab-paclitaxel plus or minus this elraglusib. So, what we saw was that overall survival was better with the addition of this new drug. And overall, not only the 1-year overall survival, but also median overall survival.  The thing that was interesting, though, was that we saw that the overall survival rates were 9.3 months with the combination versus 7.2 months with just gemcitabine/nab-paclitaxel. And that's a little bit lower than we've seen in other studies. So, not sure what was going on there. Was it the patients that were a bit sicker? Was it a patient selection, you know, thing? I'm not really sure how to explain that so much. Also, the toxicity profile was much higher in terms of visual impairment, with over 60% of patients being treated with the combination versus 9% with gemcitabine/nab-paclitaxel. So these were mild, grade 1 and 2, but still something to be cautious about. Dr. Shaalan Beg: And especially with this being a phase 2 trial, making sure that in a larger study we're able to better evaluate the toxicity and see if the control arm in the larger confirmatory study performs differently will be really important before this compound makes it to the clinic in our space. But very exciting to see these kinds of results for pancreas adenocarcinoma. Dr. Kristen Ciombor: Yeah. Dr. Shaalan Beg: We've talked, it seems, a couple of times on this podcast about the BREAKWATER clinical trial. We did hear PFS and updated OS data, updated overall survival data on first-line encorafenib plus cetuximab plus modified FOLFOX6 for BRAF-mutated colorectal cancer. This was LBA3500. And eagerly anticipated results – we have all previously heard the progression-free survival results – but here we heard updated overall survival results, and very well-received study it seemed from the audience that time. So what are your takeaways on the updated results for BREAKWATER? Dr. Kristen Ciombor: In my opinion, this was one of the most practice-confirming studies. As you mentioned, we've already seen some of the preliminary data of BREAKWATER at prior meetings. But really what was particularly impactful for me was the median overall survival with the BREAKWATER regimen. So, again, patients received FOLFOX, encorafenib cetuximab in the first line if they had BRAF-mutated V600E-mutated colorectal cancer. And the median PFS was 12.8 months, which was actually really remarkable in this traditionally very aggressive, poor prognosis subtype of tumors. So, by seeing a median overall survival of 30.3 months was just incredible, in my opinion. Just a few years ago, that was considered the median overall survival for all comers for metastatic colorectal cancer. And we know the median overall survival was more in the less than 12 months range for BRAF. So this was incredibly impactful, and I think should be absolutely practice-changing for anyone who is eligible for this regimen.  I think again, where the practice meets the study is what's kind of important to think about too, how long did patients get FOLFOX, and certainly it adds toxicity to add a BRAF-targeted regimen on top of FOLFOX already. So, one of the other interesting things about the study, though, was that even though it didn't complete treatment, they actually did look at encorafenib/cetuximab alone and in the first line without chemotherapy. And those preliminary results actually looked okay, especially for patients who might not be able to tolerate chemotherapy, which we certainly see in practice. So, overall, definitely more data. And I agree that it's certainly practice-changing. Dr. Shaalan Beg: And it completely, as you mentioned, changes the outlook for a person who's diagnosed with BRAF-mutated metastatic colon cancer today versus even 7 or 8 years ago. Dr. Kristen Ciombor: And we're seeing this over and over in other subtypes too, but how you choose to treat the patient up front really matters. So really giving the right regimen up front is the key here. Dr. Shaalan Beg: And along the same lines, Abstract 3501 wanted to answer the question on whether people with MSI-high metastatic colorectal cancer need double checkpoint inhibitor therapy or is single therapy enough. So this [CheckMate-8HW] study compared nivo plus ipi with nivo alone, nivo monotherapy for MSI-high metastatic colorectal cancer. And we've known that both of these are fairly active regimens, but we also know the chance of immune-related adverse events is significantly higher with combination therapy. So this was a much-needed study for this group of patients. And what were your takeaways here? Dr. Kristen Ciombor: This, of course, has been really nivo-ipi in the first-line MSI-high metastatic colorectal cancer is now a standard of care. And not everybody is eligible for it, and there could be reasons, toxicity reasons, and other things too. But as we've been seeing for the last couple of years, immunotherapy clearly beats chemo in this space. And now looking at doublet versus single immunotherapy treatment in the first line, I think really nivo-ipi does beat out monotherapy. I will say, however, there is a caveat in that we still haven't seen the nivo-ipi versus nivo in the first line. So what has been presented thus far has been across all lines of therapy, and that does muddy the waters a little bit. So definitely looking forward and and we've asked this many times and based on the statistical plan and and what not, you know, we just haven't seen that data yet. But I do think it's becoming increasingly important to consider doublet immunotherapy for these patients as long as there are no contraindications. With the again, with the caveat that we have to have these toxicity discussions in the clinic with patients because many patients can tolerate it, you know, this regimen fairly well, but there can be very severe toxicities. So, I think an informed discussion should really be had with each patient before moving forward. Dr. Shaalan Beg: Yeah, informed decision, making them aware of the potential of real significant toxicities, immune-related toxicities with double therapy. But I am curious in your practice, how often do you see people choosing doublet therapy as frontline? Dr. Kristen Ciombor: So patients are really savvy, and a lot of times they've heard this data before or have come across it in patient advocacy groups and other things, and it's really nice to be able to have that conversation of the risk versus benefit. So I will say not all of my patients choose doublet, and many of them are still cured with immunotherapy monotherapy. So the big question there is, will we ever understand who actually needs the doublet versus who can still be cured or have very good long-term outcomes with just the single agent? And that has not been answered yet. Dr. Shaalan Beg: What a great point. So the last abstract I was hoping we could talk about is POD1UM-303 or the INTERAACT2 subgroup analysis and impact of delayed retifanlimab treatment for patients with squamous cell carcinoma of the anal canal. What were your thoughts here? Dr. Kristen Ciombor: This was a study, actually we saw at ESMO, we saw the primary data at ESMO last year, and this was an update with some exploratory analyses. But this was really an important study because once again, we're looking at immunotherapy in later lines of therapy. That's how we started looking at and investigating immunotherapy, and now we're moving it up and up in the treatment course. So this was a study of carboplatin/paclitaxel plus or minus retifanlimab. Actually it was retifanlimab versus placebo. And it was a positive study, as we heard last year. This actually led to FDA approval of this regimen last month, just before ASCO, and it has now been incorporated in the NCCN guidelines as the preferred first-line option.  So what I thought was important from the additional data presented at ASCO was looking at the different subgroups, it did not appear that patients with liver mets or not had different outcomes. So that was really good to see because sometimes in colon cancer we see that immunotherapy doesn't work as well when patients have liver mets. And interestingly, because we use immunotherapy in anal cancer without any biomarkers, unlike with colon cancer or some of the other tumor types, also the authors looked at PD-L1 status, and it did look like maybe patients did a little bit better if they had higher PD-L1 expression, but patients still could benefit even if they were PD-L1 negative. So that was important, I think, and we will continue to see further data come out from this study. I want to mention also that EA2176 just completed accrual, so that was carbo-taxol plus or minus nivolumab. And so we should be seeing that data sometime soon, which will hopefully also confirm the ongoing role for immunotherapy in the first-line setting for anal cancer. Dr. Shaalan Beg: That was a fantastic review. Thank you, Dr Ciombor. Thanks for sharing your valuable insights with us today on the ASCO Daily News Podcast. Dr. Kristen Ciombor: Thanks for having me here. Dr. Shaalan Beg: And thank you to our listeners for your time today. You will find links to the abstracts discussed today in the transcript of this episode. And if you value the insights that you hear on the podcast, please take a moment to rate, review, and subscribe, wherever you get your podcasts. Disclaimer: The purpose of this podcast is to educate and to inform. This is not a substitute for professional medical care and is not intended for use in the diagnosis or treatment of individual conditions. Guests on this podcast express their own opinions, experience, and conclusions. Guest statements on the podcast do not express the opinions of ASCO. The mention of any product, service, organization, activity, or therapy should not be construed as an ASCO endorsement. More on today's speakers:   Dr. Shaalan Beg  @ShaalanBeg  Dr. Kristen Ciombor @KristenCiombor Follow ASCO on social media:    @ASCO on Twitter   @ASCO on BlueSky  ASCO on Facebook    ASCO on LinkedIn    Disclosures:   Dr. Shaalan Beg:   Consulting or Advisory Role: Ipsen, Cancer Commons, Foundation Medicine, Science37, Nant Health, Lindus Health Speakers' Bureau: Sirtex Research Funding (Inst.): Delfi Diagnostics, Universal Diagnostics, Freenome Dr. Kristen Ciombor: Consulting or Advisory Role: Pfizer, Incyte, Exelixis, Bayer, ALX Oncology, Tempus, Agenus, Taiho Oncology, Merck, BeiGene Research Funding (Inst.): Pfizer, Boston Biomedical, MedImmune, Onyx, Bayer, Boehringer Ingelheim, Bristol-Myers Squibb, Merck, Novartis, Incyte, Amgen, Sanofi, Bristol-Myers Squibb, Array BioPharma, Incyte, Daiichi Sankyo, Nucana, Abbvie, Merck, Pfizer/Calthera, Genentech, Seagen, Syndax Travel, Accommodations, Expenses: Incyte, Tempus

Historia är på modet och i våra sommarboktips reder vi ut varför och vilken roll historia verkar fylla för oss. Lyssna på alla avsnitt i Sveriges Radio Play. Kristina Ekero Eriksson, Urban Björstadius och Tobias Svanelid träffas för att diskutera historievurmen, tipsa om säsongens bokfavoriter och berätta hemlisar. Hör om smaktestarrobotar, Vasatidens romantiska brudröveri och Vindens historia!Böckerna som nämns i programmet:Begäret efter det förflutna av Kristina Fjelkestam Ligan – Klarakvarterens blodsystrar av Fatima BremmerHistoriska resenärer, 12 kvinnor som erövrade världen av Per J AnderssonBruno Liljefors – en biografi av Fredrik SjöbergTjabo – en biografi av Åsa LinderborgKvinnorna runt Vasatronen av Karin Tegenborg FalkdalenVindens historia av Ellen VisteSvenskar under järnkorset 1914-1945 av Lars Gyllenhaal och Lennart WestbergSinnen i arbete av Ingemar Pettersson och Daniel Normark (red)Föräldrarnas födelse av Maja LarssonMosaic - a Story of Civilization av Glenn Drover

For this compelling episode, Ceri is joined by artist Jeremy Hutchison, whose subversive, multi-disciplinary practice spans performance, sculpture, video and text. They cover essential takeaways for artists today: how to subvert the aesthetics of capitalist spectacle without shame, how humour disruption and wrong-headed commercialism can be radical tools for change; and why artists must stop waiting for permission and instead beg forgiveness, push edges and find their co-conspirators.  The Artist Mastermind Circle: Ready to stop second-guessing and start building momentum in your art career? Applications are now open for the next Artist Mastermind Circle—a six-month coaching programme for mid-career artists who are serious about growing their confidence, income, and opportunities.Apply by 21 July at https://cerihand.com/artist-mastermind-circle/ and take the next bold step. KEY TAKEAWAYS Don´t ask for permission, push the boundaries and embrace risk. Beg forgiveness afterwards. Nonsense and humour are powerful - they make people pause and question. Leverage the systems you are critiquing to reach more people. Working with others, movements and communities fuels your creativity and increases reach. Notice small detail they can be catalysts for impactful art. If you want a sustainable practice, regularly take time to recharge. You need good mental and physical health. BEST MOMENTS “You don't need 700 people. You only need about 7 or 10 champions.” “Sometimes in the midst of a political or cultural crisis, the risks that artists have to take set them apart from the tribe.” “I often begin with a tiny thing that pops out of the great sea of life, and it will somehow express the full weirdness of the greater thing.” EPISODE RESOURCES https://jeremyhutchison.com https://www.instagram.com/jeremyhutchison PODCAST HOST BIO With over 30 years in the art world, Ceri has worked closely with leading artists and arts professionals, managed public and private galleries and charities, and curated more than 250 exhibitions and events. She sold artworks to major museums and private collectors and commissioned thousands of works across diverse media, from renowned artists such as John Akomfrah, Pipilotti Rist, Rafael Lozano-Hemmer and Vito Acconci. Now, she wants to share her extensive knowledge with you, so you can excel and achieve your goals. **** Ceri Hand Coaching Membership: Group coaching, live art surgeries, exclusive masterclasses, portfolio reviews, weekly challenges. Access our library of content and resource hub anytime and enjoy special discounts within a vibrant community of peers and professionals. Ready to transform your art career? Join today!  https://cerihand.com/membership/  **** Build Relationships The Easy Way Our self-study video course, "Unlock Your Artworld Network,"  offers a straightforward 5-step framework to help you build valuable relationships effortlessly. Gain the tools and confidence you need to create new opportunities and thrive in the art world today. https://cerihand.com/courses/unlock_your_artworld_network/ **** Book a Discovery Call Today  To schedule a personalised 1-2-1 coaching session with Ceri or explore our group coaching options, simply email us at hello@cerihand.com **** Discover Your Extraordinary Creativity  Visit www.cerihand.com to learn how we can help you become an extraordinary creative. This Podcast has been brought to you by Disruptive Media. https://disruptivemedia.co.uk/

Send us a textHappy summer PE Nation!In today's episode I encourage you to enjoy your summer break, while adding  professional development to enhance your PE program before the next school year begins.• Supersizedphysed.com serves as the hub for all resources, articles, and courses• Free resources include Substack and Medium articles with PE tips, games, and strategies• A free video course on the "PE-9": principles for improving your PE program• Free ebook on setting up your PE program, especially helpful for newer teachers• "High Fives and Empowering Lives" book available as an ebook ($2.99) or paperback ($9.99)Paperback or download: HEREAmazon Ebook: HERE• My courses: "Designing a Sport Education Unit" and "The First Week of PE" • Teachers Pay Teachers store with over 30 affordable resources• The "Beg, Borrow, Build and Steal" equipment ebook for equipment managementPut in the work during summer break. Yes, take time off, rest, enjoy your family and friends, but don't wait until the last second to gear up for the next school year. Always be learning, always be listening, always be creating.Take care,DaveFollow me on Twitter (X): https://x.com/PE_Dave1017Website for the book: https://www.teacherchefhockeyplayerbook.com/

***Guest AppearanceCredits to:https://www.youtube.com/@EG_Developer "The Art of Raising Capital"https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oo0HNrZOvtI If you're a real estate investor or developer wrestling with the age-old question—how do I find funding for my deals?—You're not alone. Most of us start in the same place: we turn to banks, endure rigorous credit checks, and cross our fingers that the funds come through. But as veteran investor Jay Conner shared in his interview with Eugene Gershman, there's a better way: Raising Private Money.In this episode, we'll break down Jay's method for leveraging private lenders—a system that not only allows you to fund deals quickly but puts you firmly in the driver's seat.The Bank Shutdown That Sparked a ChangeJay's journey into private money began out of necessity. For years, he'd relied on banks, but in 2009, his line of credit was abruptly closed. With deals under contract and no financing in sight, he asked himself, “Who do I know that can help?” That call led him to the world of private money, where individuals, often using their retirement funds, can invest in real estate for higher, safer returns.Don't Beg for Money: Teach InsteadOne of Jay's core philosophies? Don't chase money—attract it by teaching. Instead of pitching individual deals with desperation, Jay developed a private money “program.” He educated potential lenders on what private money is, how it works, and why it's mutually beneficial—all before bringing any specific investment opportunity to the table.By wearing his “teacher hat,” he positioned himself as a knowledgeable, trustworthy guide rather than someone begging for help. This simple shift allowed him to raise over $2 million in 90 days.The Secret: Separate the Funding Conversation from the DealJay Conner emphasizes that the worst time to raise money is when you need it urgently for a deal; desperation has a scent that savvy investors can detect. Instead, he recommends cultivating interest in your program beforehand. Explain your investment approach, outline your terms (like 8-10% interest, first or second lien position, borrowing up to 75% of after-repair value), and show potential lenders how their money is protected.When a deal arises, you call with “great news”—not a desperate plea. The money is already pledged, and investors are ready and waiting.Indirect Outreach: Ask for Referrals, Not FundsA genius part of Jay's approach is the indirect ask. Rather than pitching investments directly, he'd connect with well-networked locals (like the town's original Zenith TV dealer!), share that he's helping people earn high rates of return, and ask for referrals. More often than not, people would express interest themselves or spread the word to their circles.This reflective, relationship-driven technique allowed Jay to build a network of 47 private lenders, most of whom had never even heard of private money lending before he educated them.Scaling Up: From Small Deals to MillionsIs this approach scalable? Absolutely. Whether you need $500,000 or $10 million, Jay's model works by adapting your outreach. For example, he's raised nearly a million dollars in a single luncheon by teaching his program to a room of community influencers. He regularly uses presentations, podcasts, and word-of-mouth to reach potential lenders, rather than relying solely on one-on-one conversations.The Role of Self-Directed IRAsA powerful hack in the private money world is using self-directed IRAs. Many investors have retirement funds languishing with low returns. By educating them on how to use these funds for private lending, J

In this PODCAST, a timeless message for the ages. Especially here and now! Thank you for listening, and for sharing this message!!! Please remember that depending upon your web browser and connection speed, it may take up to 60 seconds for this podcast to begin to play. God bless you richly as you listen.

Join Rebecca as she reveals secret strategies to command respect from narcissists without begging, fighting, or losing your own power.

In this Beg-a-Thon live show, "Ancient Rome and the False Histories Inspiring Musk & the MAGA World," with guest Dr. Sarah E. Bond, we discuss Sarah's new book, Strike: Labor, Unions, and Resistance in the Roman Empire, and how Elon Musk and everyone in his MAGA orbit appropriate the aesthetics of Rome while understanding almost nothing about the history they're seemingly so infatuated with. Originally livestreamed on YouTube on Wednesday, February 19.