Podcasts about cartman

“I had people in my life telling me this was a funny movie…” - Steve On this week's show, we're getting into our month of holiday programming with a chat about the totally dated Christmas comedy, Just Friends! How annoying is it that this movie barely cares about being set at Christmas? Why couldn't we get just a little more for the incredible Julie Hagerty to do in the movie? How abhorrent is the entire idea of the “Friend Zone” in the first place? Is this one of the biggest public humiliations at a movie's house party? And why is Ryan Reynolds doing a Cartman voice when he's in that abysmal fat suit the production borrowed from the Friends archive? PLUS: A Jared from Subway reference in this film that Chris accurately describes as “completely destabilizing”! Just Friends stars Ryan Reynolds, Amy Smart, Anna Paris, Chris Klein, Christopher Rodriguez Marquette, Fred Ewanuick, Amy Matysio, and Julie Hagerty as Carol Brander; directed by Roger Kumble. This week's episode is brought to you in part by Sonos. Discover how easy it is to bring every room to life with incredible sound. Explore Sonos speakers, soundbars, and more at sonos.com! Also by Rocket Money. Cancel your unwanted subscriptions and reach your financial goals faster with Rocket Money. Go to RocketMoney dot com slash WHM today. That's RocketMoney dot com slash WHM. RocketMoney dot com slash WHM! And by Uncommon Goods! To get 15% off your next gift, go to UNCOMMON GOODS dot com slash whm. That's UNCOMMON GOODS dot com slash whm, for 15% off! Don't miss out on this limited-time offer. Uncommon Goods. They're all out of the ordinary. Be sure to snag your tickets to see our 15th Anniversary show at the Bell House in Brooklyn this Saturday, December 6! We're celebrating the better part of two decades on the air while talking about the fantastic Arnold sci-fi action adventure, Total Recall! Click through to get your tix now, it's close to selling out!  Throughout 2025, we'll be donating 100% of our earnings from our merch shop to the Center for Reproductive Rights. So head over and check out all these masterful designs and see what tickles your fancy! Shirts? Phone cases? Canvas prints? We got all that and more! Check it out and kick in for a good cause! Original cover art by Felipe Sobreiro.

The source material consists of a speaker's critical analysis of what they categorize as staged historical events or psychological operations (psyops), particularly focusing on the alleged shooting of Charlie Kirk. The speaker details a three-part media strategy supporting these events, encompassing predictive programming (content released long before the event), concurrent programming (content released at the time), and reinforcement (the media ecosystem validating the premise). Furthermore, the discussion transitions to critique the anti-geoengineering movement, which the speaker dismisses as controlled opposition designed to ensure both sides of the political spectrum agree on the fundamental premise of man-made global alteration. The speaker contends that these scripted events suggest that key public figures are merely scripted people playing pre-planned roles that stretch back decades. Ultimately, the speaker argues that the public's increasing inability to discern truth from sophisticated media fakery and AI-generated content is ushering in a "new dark age."The speaker focuses on analyzing major current events, such as the Charlie Kirk shooting, as staged historical events or psychological operations (psyops) that shape shared history. These simulated events are characterized by pervasive media saturation involving predictive, concurrent, and reinforcement programming. The South Park episode featuring a Charlie Kirk-esque character (Cartman/Clyde) falling off a chair to the left is cited as specific evidence of concurrent and predictive programming leading up to the alleged shooting event. The analysis extends to major public figures, referred to as "fake people" or scripted actors, whose roles are foreshadowed in prior media, suggesting they step into pre-planned scenarios (e.g., Elon Musk, Donald Trump, Charlie Kirk, Candace Owens).The speaker also critically analyzes the anti-geo-engineering movement (chemtrails), calling it intellectually dishonest and controlled opposition that serves as a tool of the "system". This movement, like climate change activism, results in the Hegelian dialectic working because both sides agree that man is destroying the planet.The central theme is the need for a paradigm shift to an "off-world stage perspective," where individuals adopt the premise of "fake until proven real" to counteract the rising tide of media fakery and AI-generated content, which threatens to usher in a "new dark age" characterized by visual illiteracy.Staged Events and Predictive Programming: Significant headline-grabbing events are considered simulated events (psyops or hoaxes) that are often scheduled and planned in advance, with scripts potentially existing 20 years ago or longer. The planning of these events is evidenced by the existence of predictive, concurrent, and reinforcement programming across media ecosystems, blurring the lines between nonfiction and fiction.The South Park Example: The South Park episode featuring a Charlie Kirk character being knocked off a chair to the left is highlighted as a conspicuous example of concurrent and predictive programming, elevating Charlie Kirk's profile just in time for the staged event and possibly foreshadowing his alleged fate. The association of this character with Cartman is noted as potentially representing how "the left characterizes the right". he event. And that'd be under concurrent programming.""And I'm suggesting that maybe the whole thing about political theater and politics in general is just a steam valve to give the masses an illusion of control.""It turns out all of the conspiracies of Trutherville, if they're popular conspiracies, they're fake. These are part of a meta conspiracy.""If you haven't made that paradigm shift already, you're gonna fall into this new dark age."

South Park Charlie Kirk Predictive ProgrammingThe source material consists of a speaker's critical analysis of what they categorize as staged historical events or psychological operations (psyops), particularly focusing on the alleged shooting of Charlie Kirk. The speaker details a three-part media strategy supporting these events, encompassing predictive programming (content released long before the event), concurrent programming (content released at the time), and reinforcement (the media ecosystem validating the premise). Furthermore, the discussion transitions to critique the anti-geoengineering movement, which the speaker dismisses as controlled opposition designed to ensure both sides of the political spectrum agree on the fundamental premise of man-made global alteration. The speaker contends that these scripted events suggest that key public figures are merely scripted people playing pre-planned roles that stretch back decades. Ultimately, the speaker argues that the public's increasing inability to discern truth from sophisticated media fakery and AI-generated content is ushering in a "new dark age."SynopsisThe speaker focuses on analyzing major current events, such as the Charlie Kirk shooting, as staged historical events or psychological operations (psyops) that shape shared history. These simulated events are characterized by pervasive media saturation involving predictive, concurrent, and reinforcement programming. The South Park episode featuring a Charlie Kirk-esque character (Cartman/Clyde) falling off a chair to the left is cited as specific evidence of concurrent and predictive programming leading up to the alleged shooting event. The analysis extends to major public figures, referred to as "fake people" or scripted actors, whose roles are foreshadowed in prior media, suggesting they step into pre-planned scenarios (e.g., Elon Musk, Donald Trump, Charlie Kirk, Candace Owens).The speaker also critically analyzes the anti-geo-engineering movement (chemtrails), calling it intellectually dishonest and controlled opposition that serves as a tool of the "system". This movement, like climate change activism, results in the Hegelian dialectic working because both sides agree that man is destroying the planet.The central theme is the need for a paradigm shift to an "off-world stage perspective," where individuals adopt the premise of "fake until proven real" to counteract the rising tide of media fakery and AI-generated content, which threatens to usher in a "new dark age" characterized by visual illiteracy.5 Talking PointsStaged Events and Predictive Programming: Significant headline-grabbing events are considered simulated events (psyops or hoaxes) that are often scheduled and planned in advance, with scripts potentially existing 20 years ago or longer. The planning of these events is evidenced by the existence of predictive, concurrent, and reinforcement programming across media ecosystems, blurring the lines between nonfiction and fiction.The South Park Example: The South Park episode featuring a Charlie Kirk character being knocked off a chair to the left is highlighted as a conspicuous example of concurrent and predictive programming, elevating Charlie Kirk's profile just in time for the staged event and possibly foreshadowing his alleged fate. The association of this character with Cartman is noted as potentially representing how "the left characterizes the right".Controlled Opposition in Conspiracy Culture: Movements like anti-geo-engineering (chemtrails) are viewed as controlled opposition or a "litmus test" for gullibility, designed to provide the right wing with a political framework, ultimately aligning with the mainstream climate change narrative that "man is destroying the planet". The speaker argues that these popular conspiracy theories are generally fake and political, serving to misdirect those who stray from the mainstream.Fake People and Scripted Roles: Many individuals on the world stage are considered "scripted people" or "plants" who are playing roles in a reality TV show that is an "alternate reality game" inviting audience participation. Figures like Donald Trump and Elon Musk were allegedly foreshadowed in predictive content, suggesting they stepped into pre-existing roles. The activities of people associated with Charlie Kirk (e.g., Erica Kirk, Candace Owens, J.D. Vance) are seen as part of the overall scripted scenario.Combating Visual Illiteracy in the Age of AI: Due to the advancing sophistication of media fakery and AI agents influencing public opinion, relying on visuals to deconstruct a fake event is no longer reliable, necessitating a paradigm shift. Adopting the mindset of "fake until proven real" is crucial to avoid falling into a new dark age of visual illiteracy and remaining susceptible to psychological operations and emotional manipulation.5 Quotes"These are simulated events with significance in terms of our shared history. These are world

It's time to take down to evil corporations with the power of podcasting, as we revisit "Die Hippie, Die", a fun episode that sees Cartman fulfill his purpose in life, destroying all hippies!A great parody of disaster films such as Armageddon and The Core, which is always a bug thumbs up in our book. Also the last speaking role from Isaac Hayes (boo).We also discuss whether Parker and Stone like hippies, the downfall of the Chef character, our love of The Nutty Professor and more.LISTEN on Spotify - spoti.fi/4fzFQbj LISTEN on Apple - apple.co/4fCJmBvWATCH on YouTube - bit.ly/southparkpodcastSupport the Four Finger Discount Network for EARLY & AD-FREE access to every show we produce, as well as 100 hours of exclusive content! Join the FFD family today at patreon.com/fourfingerdiscountCHECK OUT OUR OTHER PODCASTS:Four Finger Discount (Simpsons) - fourfingerdiscount.com.auThe Movie Guide with Leonard Maltin - themovieguidepodcast.comSpeaKing Of The Hill - spreaker.com/show/speaking-of-the-hill-a-king-of-the-hill-The One About Friends - spreaker.com/show/the-one-about-friends-podcastTalking Seinfeld - spreaker.com/show/talking-seinfeldSaturday Night Dive (SNL) - spreaker.com/podcast/saturday-night-dive-an-snl-podcastThe Office Talk - spreaker.com/show/the-office-talk-podcastGoin' Down To South Park is brought to you by The Four Finger Discount Network.

This week, 40 years of pumpkin smashing, rock ballads are going strong thanks to... Cartman? A tiny Disneyland project, we may have convinced Mel that Haunted Mansion Holiday should be sent to Disney World after listening to a holiday mash-up by a talented cast-member, plus next year's D23 member items announced. Listen now at: https://www.podketeers.com/596 or watch this episode at: YouTube.com/Podketeers   Our most frequently requested links can be found at: https://www.podketeers.com/links/   Help us make a difference!  Teamboat Willie is the official charity team of the Podketeers Podcast. For more information on the charity that we're currently supporting, head to: http://www.teamboatwillie.com   Check out our series of Armchair Imagineering episodes here:  https://www.podketeers.com/armchair-imagineering/ --- Join the FGP Squad Family! Support for Podkeeters is provided by listeners and viewers like you! We like to call our supporters our Fairy Godparents (they call themselves the FGP Squad). You can find more info on how to become part of the FGP Squad family by going to:  https://www.podketeers.com/fgp --- We're on Discord! Join other members of our community and us on our Discord server! Use the invite link below to join us: https://discord.gg/gG8kJ2a ---  

Don't you see, sensei I'm just as disappointed in myself And ready to die Just as I relay the message, Spray me with your morbid essence Don't, croak, you fool, You've only a spoon ful of sugar left to go The dose is coming up your throat, — you didn't know to throw up Grab the rope and go up Before gravity has crushed your —thought: Stupid boy, you don't want to die— Nor to do, but oh, do we have it coming Silly mortal, overlords and governed, Short of morals, steady coming at your doorstep So goes our concert! And so goes our concept for divorce, And sure of course, Your four corse meal, and/or dessert This is just devastating, genetics made me The sort at sorting words, but surfing, Sure. Ever temporarily the cadence changes, Still they say “you've been betrayed” But never had a friend I made made As good as death and God have been to me For everything you're meant to be, Plus everything you're meant to me, I go, unwanted, troubled and disgusted at my own immortal outcome. Sure. My back hurts and I'm wounded, Heartbroke, Thrust in every cardinal direction Also, honored at the mark of magic wand Upon her shoulder; And so, Just as soon as the sun and moon, Does the fire escape set a perfect path For outward destruction of the bricks and mortar Or your alter (This we talk about, to some effect Is your repression and affective form of supernatural perfection) But forget the makeup; I can make you up to be a star And not of wars and other worlds, But those that come before us, Carson, and the others Paar before that. But, I think not dear sir How wrong you are, A wretched bird, Set not to fly, but O father Wit and relay messages, The passage said, and set to clocks, The past was won and so the future altered, But dear feathered father, Mortal you are not But just another triumph Of my god; And set the mirror to the magnets Camera, lights and action, Magic— All the signs of the dawn, and the mad don Red Dawn came upon us, called the Red Man Tom, from other, over, under Still was my mistake to mumble such Or put upon the tongue As such assumption Still— wonder? Bird, shut up; Love I dusk And lust I soak In all the frittered dust and feathers, Colors, coming up as mister Chuck and wood, and wait and ponder Slithered this to wonder, not a rock, But potted fern, Asunder Thunderstorm And wicked rain And fair the back A tide had come And sitting there upon the shore, Was us, and 12 apostles She's a Brick— Seemingly out of nowhere, A RED BRICK HOUSE falls very perfectly from the SKY and into OZ. oh good, my house is here. House. [the festival project ™] But I don't want to make house! Then play it! I don't want to play house it is BORING. You play it— they want it. But I don't want it. Then forget it! What! Listen kid, a job's a job! {Enter The Multiverse} Wrong, this is wrong— everything is wrong. What's wrong, Rob? I'll be back. ROB LOWE has just played TRUTH OR DARE L E G E N D S if I could get inside your head For just a second Bread and butter Heaven, hell, And other places I have wandered But oh, wonder This is never what I wanted, Was it? No sir. Sure, I set you off, No sooner had you got a gun and shot me. Handsome fucker. I'll bet. Wrong act. Wrong award show. Wrong hat and a baseball bat, Peanut butter and a nice cold cheesecake, Don't forget to order cheesesteak For your cat. A carnivore at odds with the other worlds, And also fused to us; This drifting back and forth Between the Rock And Hollywood Has got to stop. ((The world is toxic.)) the legend of… L. JONES It's you! BLŪ AH, crap. L. JONES Listen, I got something for you. BLŪ Where did your bird go? L.JONES What bird? CUT TO: Now open that. No wait! It's a trap! THE VAULT inside THE CRYPT at 30 ROCK has been opened. I keep looking down at my phone As if I'm expecting a phone call Or incoming message from God But the worlds to a song Are all jumbled up in my Concious I don't want to talk about it I feel Nauseous Everyone is being obnoxious Even my own blood I don't want to function I just want some French toast crunch For lunch Nostalgia I got a whole inch taller on the peloton Holla Now I got a body, Broader, So close to Broadway But I never go there That's a tall order Of “gotta have money” I mean live theatre It's fine I'll eat here And repeat these things till they just rhyme Line them all up like a context, Story Someday I'm gonna cut my own check Watch me lol none of this rhymes without a hard Brooklyn accent ; Guess you can't hack it! Send you ass packin! I said “That's whack son!” Then I went back blonde Now they want Backend, Contract, Off the top, Royalties Residuals I'm an individual with insidious syntax And yet I'm ridiculed Truly I'm a tit-for-tat Or particle of all you are Circular centrifuge, I trickle down your tentacles (Eugh) Choke the chicken just to give the cat a chicken bowl, Chick fil et and pret a tair just to get a ritual Espresso and a quick snack So I can get my dick wrapped In chocolate and licorice because the shit is edible Damn that I guess they set a damn trap By putting out the welcome mat, Then strapping Like a mothafuckin' straight jacket Matter fact, I look a nap in it, Then magic tricked the slip effective Compliments of Michael Jackson Or was it tech nine? Maybe I should get my Mind right I lost it once I guess I've better find it If I am, in fact, A diamond in the rough It's probably blooded it up enough That you should dig it up and shine it; Better yet, Somebody outta pick it up And sign it, Cause I write enough To put a vision To a blind man It's Fran Fine, man I'm behind, man The shadowgov had put me on a diet My bad I noticed that they tried to shut me up But couldn't stop the words or other stuff That just keeps coming out of my head I put coconuts as butter onto my bread And thinking thoughts of Carl cox As I drift off in my bed, I said, “It shouldn't be a problem, officer” As I reached for the gun And he aimed it at my death. That's an impossible apocalyptic suicide— Did you invite the devil in? I said “Nah, but that guy did.” The problem is, I pointed over yonder to a ghost Who also knows that I'm a well respected psychic; Nevermind a sidekick, side bitch in a sidecar, Psych ward, Sike! We spike war on your kind! So far, If I make history tonight, The other side decides their psalm is just as likely The third reike. Okay, strike one: I'm gonna turn your lights off. Strike two : you do and say what I do: Strike three: we're gonna make you suicidal I specialize in denying rights for high profits But big brother, or boss— What if my glove fits? The instance it does, We lock you up with no service, Your world becomes dark And your words become worthless Oh shit. This is not a good rap song. Like, at all. I must say, I do agree, You lose your trust, but silently Denied is all your trouble, Till it just begins to bubble up Until the cookie crumbles— See that feeling in your stomach? This is bigger than the money, girl — They want your soul, and then the world! I told you never call him. I didn't! Then explain this: [Skrillex] *sharp inward sigh* CUT IMMIDIATLEH TO STAN You know what! That's it! I don't care how handsome or rich and famous he is! This has to stop! KYLE Hey, wait just a minute— STAN SHUT UP KYLE. KYLE You shut up! STAN You're starting to sound just like him! KYLE Take that back! STAN I won't take it back! You all might have forgotten who you are, but I haven't!after of fact, I bet to Cartman, you're still that stupid little Jew kid! KYLE That's IT. KYLE takes out his phone. what are you doing? …I'm tweeting about this. I thought it was X now… It is, but you can't ‘x' anything, it's still calledl tweeting. I guess youre right. —and I'm tagging Cartman ! STAN Are you serious? Oh shit, this is social suicide. …did I ever explain this storyline? …I don't know, did i? I'd gotten so focused on this impending doom looming over me with this whole lawsuit that I'd forgotten entire worlds and whole documents. Even more terrifying, was the sudden quiet and the onset guilt that came over me for getting distracted. But I couldn't remove myself from it entirely—- it seemed to have ruined everything. It wasn't just motorcycle noises, it was like a nervousness and angst twisting in my stomach for months and months, until finally, as the court dates started approaching, it was peaceful, or rather, normal, all of a sudden. It couldn't be peaceful because now that the extreme noise was gone, I knew it had been planted all long— but what was the purpose? I'd lost two years not knowing, and though there were albums, they were never what I wanted. Now I was sorting through the documents of the show like it was the rubble of a decimated building— completely demolished, and I hadn't the slightest clue the contexts or the storylines anymore. It was pain and suffering, but not in the legal context. It was a creative disaster— I hadn't any idea in the slightest where I'd left my audience before I was forced to abandon them. But I was forced to choose, at times, between soap and toilet paper, or eventually, food, and water— or a phone. Eventually, this too became a pattern of the impossible— trying my hardest to do what I thought had been my purpose, but for far, being so endlessly sabotaged, even ridiculed and humiliated, and still, I couldn't understand why. I was tired— and somehow, even though I'd wanted to be left alone, I was the target. Worse was that I assumed it to be bigger than I thought and completely out of control— I thought immediately back to how my best friend from middle school had been attacked, and how she was made to think that it was me…to the point that she'd become obsessive about it to call my mom over it. And as far as the court was concerned, to the wrong ears or wrong eyes, anything I'd published in the festival project could look troublesome, like the ramblings of a mad mad, or schizo, or uncontrolled obsessive thoughts— because the biggest secrets of all, the things that tied together these fictional worlds and plots, were my own real life experience. The inability in a court of law to detail the podcast, which had started as meltdown some would call grandiose over an almost long forgotten rockstar and a porn model — and the entries into the festival project that followed, which included high concepts, off-kilter comedy, politics, and even fringed on social justice. Nothing I ever would have wanted and especially over money, but the lawsuit wasn't about money at all. In fact, at any moment I would have chosen to die and have it all stop if it weren't for my very young son being left alone. Though recently the dread had overcome with a sense of unbearable loss and agony, encrypted with suicidal thoughts and wants, reeling for human touch, the overbearing factor seemed to be that if I killed myself, I was giving someone what they wanted. I was really much too tired to go on, but leaving behind the world in entirety, in my very own way of beliefs wasn't just “shitutting it off”, it was starting it over. Understandably and undeniably immortal in its nature, the instances of God I had left spoke with a reminiscence of being born again, and having to remember which is it I'd wanted to start off. It was an unachievable overload of chaos and disruption, a level of corruption that spoke to something so dark and sinister it seemed biblical — then, again, I tried to wrap my mind around a way to rebuild a positive world from hope and thought, or manifest reality, but this is the very experience I'd felt was intended all along. The motorcycles weren't merely meant to destroy my career, or my will power, or force— they were, but also they were made to play upon my most valuable asset, the power of thought, to make it impossible to become something other than what was wanted; to use my own mind against itself and destroy my way of thought by using vibrations that could not be shut out, or stopped— they followed me to the sound collective, to Shakespeare in the park, the bank, the doctors office— it was as if they knew and understood my very thoughts, my process. It was of nothing at all to corrupt every single body and brain who would surround me or come close— by using the power that seemed supernatural enough, but indeed were powered by money, and technology. Perhaps, in this essence, I thought, was the purest display of defective intention itself; the mere thought that this indeed was rather Good Vs. Evil or God and The Devil would easily be written off as a diseased way of thought. The social world and constructs had been built around being open minded to a system of psychology that was intrinsically rather corrupt. I knew this could only be fought with what I knew, and what I could draw from as logic. I didn't want to go to court because I knew the people I would be fighting were liars, and well trained psychological masters of manipulation, well hidden terrorists dressed as public servants and systematic corrupters all for simple profit margins, to whom I was not so much a person or a mother, or a daughter, but a number. Because I was poor, and had once or four times chosen to love the wrong person in an unorthodox and uncontrollable form of torture, dismissing each and every social construct or physiology that was by the book, by embracing that there was a reason for change I quickly became quite the antagonist of sorts and hopefully not some sort of martyr —for the kind of people that had money and property, and perhaps even socially constructed circles to camoflage their own self doubt and hatred, but absolutely also had no morals. –Death of a Superstar DJ If I lose my mind At least I know I'm right on time This time— I meant that, I had it bad this time MCBADBAT I had it bad this time, And the last. Perchance for you, Hour or folded, Hair my weight And glassed upon thy, This upon now, Feathered waking, And there barely weathered Shaking. Dear, dear, Tis is fair truth, To fare that I have gasp And fated at thy doorstep; And yet, care to force, Her breaking waves and saving tinder, Fit there slithered in as yet astonished, Then another; And I hated. So, then, slower now. All there, gathered none. And show to show thy force What then became and withered after, None to bark or beg But birds and feathered creatures, pander The tides did Quake, And the heart did grow ten fold and steady saying None upon us but one left to shiver in the depths That yet remain as undiscovered For now never there was another world, Undone, And also another becomes, My death— And therefore all the worlds I kept, To travel on and travel As becomes one, does another onward As the first is glass to dust, And last is born there. So, Then, I, Crept, In my dress, Kept for clothes that church did water I, met, My mark and there the doors of shadows open Wilted and wake? Hear you; A star was born In other cosmos tied with our own nurture So, Kept, The weight of clasp and bone That holds the crept and precious alter Goddamn cat! Where are you. AAtticus Caaticus Oop. Gotta go. Toonces! Tooooonces! Where are you? Omg remember that one where that couple has a magic toddler and they just let him like,float away. Yeah, barely. Yeah. So I do. CUT TO: TOONCES focuses intently on the task at hand; he's sure he can manage to drive the human vehicle to his own home— to where he's assured he will find the actual body in which he belongs. Now… let's see, if I can just Wait, I who? ATTICUS CATTICUS, An ancient alien sorcerer must relay a series of important messages. Unfortunately. YO WHAT THE FUCK. None of them seem to be getting through. CUT BACK TO: TOONCEEESSSS. here kitty kitty kitty!! {Enter the Multiverse} I would dedicate, but honestly I've not time to waste And I'm craving wedding cake I hate to destroy you But for now, you know I can't employ you; This implies my eyes are also murder And I'm sure of her departure From another world, Perhaps across the border. Also, quite the dark sorcerer himself LORNE MICHAELS has well hidden himself under the guise of having become one of the most successful television producer of all times— And even in his own very small world, Nobody quite seems to know why. JIMMY FALLON Lorne, I have to tell you something. LORNE MICHAELS This had better be good, Jimmy, I've just made popcorn. [the festival project ™] Don't worry, for now, The risk remains hidden, As sure as an asset is an advantage, I can't have the classes counting Heads of cabbage as accomplishes, The masses are honestly astonished And impossible, but what was wrong with Boredom in the first place? Nonsense More words And still no dollars Hunger strike, And burning harder, California deficit, lack of bread, Heaven sent interventions and scissors, Mistresses, disasters and divorces But who says the whole story has to suffer? You're a surfer under water, Remember that when you finally catch your breath above the surface Can you clear her? He who? Back to work! Or back to the future! My super brain is dead but I think I'm next I think heaven swallows whole the blooded laugher From the constructs I've come from. Remember that. Remember not to fall from too far up, God would give you wings With time to spare Before you ever wondered where Your mark was On the plaza Don't let me up to the very top. I will at the very least Best scenario jump off And rid the world myself, Just for a dozen donuts over Crossing hearts and Hollywood And Griffith park To also soft my foot Upon red carpets. You ever shave your armpits!? …no. Hm. Catholic. Of course. Get in. Destination. —Rotterdam. You idiot. I made it. Whatever, get in the boat. DI NERO Give her your shirt. What. Your shirt. Why my shirt. Just— Fine. Here. [he hands over his shirt— in an instant, the woman becomes an exact REPLICA.] …my shirt. Relax. Nothing's gonna happen to it. Okay? —in fact, you're still wearing it. Alright! She's right, Jimmy, relax. I can't, that's— It's simple. There is nothing simple about this whatsoever. You're right. It's not, so get over it. [The Festival Project ™] BILL MURRAY There's a compartment at the end of the left corridor— Alright. In that hatch, there's a chamber. Okay, what'll I do? You'll open it? How? I'll tell you how, just get there. Suddenly, a barrier falls; it appears as though there are booby traps set here. Uh— that might be a problem. There might be a few of them. What just happened? Booby traps. —ah, I know what you're talking. Those aren't booby traps— they're Bobby Traps. What in the Hell are you talking about? For whatever reason Jimmy Kimmel Is important Now I'm scared of him, I know he knows the devil Come to think of it, Might even be an advocate Have an avocado But don't know the half of it These are, as it stands Comes what may Special circumstances I could circumvent an intervention, Never second chances I've been setting rat traps, Trapeze artists, Bampheramph camp, And also trampolines over the plaza That seems dangerous. Yeah. AHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Damn. Know it's plausible, That I also am an alcoholic, Though dysfunctional, Professional, And underrepresented So I stand myself, Let's just say pro-se if you will I could add Prozac to my snacks But I'll be delayed, if you still Don't get my messages I'm sick of having heart attacks; A hard advantage I was looking back on “fully packaged” A six pack of abs And nothing left to eat but cabbage, Haven't had a mouth, But I've been counting on my ass To get me back up north, I'm coming from the South Out West, there's a word for that At best, you're a four and a half My body double stunts and stumbles Struts at nothing Struck before the one, And so between high noon and Somewhere around 30 in I'm never turning 30, 30 Rock is in the wind— So count that up, That's what my income is. That's what they said? “Too late, you've been betrayed” If that's how it is, Then I request “beheaded” You know your mother says That ugly face just becomes permanent If you keep making it, And so I did, The second that it ended I'm Trying so hard Just to be What they want That it hurts Just to stop And relax For a moment INT. THE LAIR. NIGHT What is this? Where am I? You're— Alive. Why? …I changed my mind. You're not ugly You're just not mine I changed my mind I changed my life around. I skip line after line, But the message ain't right, I have time a chance No challenge accepted No exceptions or Expectations Expand this racism vocabulary Set the rat traps back To February Stamp the weather's getting Better with the postage clearing Abstr– My cat is so cute I can't stand him; But he's pretty bad, That my only friend; Animal. I blacklisted deadmau5, And my whole set sucked. Presently, however I'm a peasant Plucking pheasant feathers Guess I– pppftt. Like it never even happened But I'm sure we're all to war, Like a fear I never grasp it, What's l before, uncertain of your l words— My dear, were tattered and the masters heavy handed, Oh, my dear, we're marching on a battered Wit, to all your fan mail I tel you, I was I tortured, Let me show you And also, No one forced my hand at magic, Questioned prestidigitation, Or went back to every second, Land you think you owned as time In fact, my crucial very hard earned gossip column Asks the reader to reform his or her thought Before a judgement can be made How fascinating. The bag says ‘poems' so I wrote one, But I'm sure since my marker's toggled on I'm being stalked, It's like a magnet, Punch the clock And here they pour into the coffin So I won't be pouring coffee for the puffin; Maybe someday I'll look back at this as all I ever wanted, But for now it's just a horror show, Where I belong the murder— Yet a thriller, Best, The audience is captivated, Yes This is evasive, Cause I can't been captured yet By either masses or Mass murderers. At last, a cadence comes clean of its Breaking waves and rhythms, Tides and ties, Becomes another— Then, I'm whisked away Not back to slumber, but of subtle thoughts Of Californian water Lapping up across our surfboards; I often wear them tides, The undertow As pull of greater waves I sit aside as all that passes [The Festival Project ™] When I see Calvin Klein, I think of you; Not what you used to be But turned in to So it's mutual— Pay attention, fool As does moss grow on a rock And this to you— It is unfortunate, my dear You miss with every twist, Adjustment of attention span, The glances I foreshadowed (Here you are, inside your past) It's just affective of the effect, You've been levitating, Yes, I find it devastating Every second kept is just a fortune But you pause before you post— You reap before you even think Of what you sow, You don't belong, Agast, (True) Set the tone, Classless, But I'm Art, you are a Daunting folk song, Mistletoe and marker. CAMERA ASSISTANT Marker. …what is this for again? CAMERA ASSISTANT (Annoyed, mumbling) Shut up. Ten minutes passes and still, I'm awake But the tragedy of the mistake has just set in, I'm sure I've been tortured, I'm paid in mistakes, but I'd rather be shattered with Mortimer's curse. To the tune of Ten by ten by ten I will never be lover, nor friend in the end. {Enter The Multiverse] DRAKE concentrates heavily on a very long , seemingly very angry message— a frowning face plastered as he writes that is so noteworthy, it catches the attention of many a passerby— still this focus unwatered, as he bashes heavily away at the text message with the thumbs of fury for over 30 minutes while sitting at a booth in a well-loved pancake restaurant. As a tall stack of pancakes is served before him, and he, still unbreaking this angry texting streak or eye contact with his phone sits before them, history is made in what internet culture has now deemed as “the most meme worthy face in history” The world wonders what he could possibly be writing— and more importantly—-who he could be texting. Tears come to his eyes but do not fall as he raises his thumb with reserve, to finally press [RETURN.] CUT TO: SUNNI BLU receives a text amidst a wild party. Almost without so much as a reaction, SUNNI BLU pings the message to a projector and cuts off the lights, and music. A VERY LONG, ANGRY TEXT is projected on the wall. I slept from 10-2 There was nothing else to do My name is Devin DeLouise And I am not supposed to know these things Seven are dead and three are left I know what's next I'm also often known as And referred to as coyote ugly; Suffering a tantra wall, Yo, you son of a bitch! You dirty, dirty son of a bitch. I must admit, I had a lot to do with this… I had no part in it! Relax… soon enough, the both of your realize— this is how the unimaginable gets written. [he loads the polished sterling silver pistol and glamours over it] You have our memory. —all memory. And as soon as it ends, before it can begin again. The slate is wiped clean. Good riddance. “A Different Kind of Monologue” Is this what you wanted? Ooh— you should try me! I wish you would try me! Try me! I wish you would. Be calm, Grand Master. This will all be over momentarily. What's going on. Deprivation chamber. Crypt? —Encrypted? A lockup. Ah. Thought so. That ought to show us what he's really made up. We can all hope. [he pounds on the glass, the one way mirror acts as a camera which the maj aresses, rabid and wi the anger of a dangerous animal, both we, n audience, and the small group of men gathered a the other side of the room. This could be the basis of a lot of lawsuits. So now I have your tears and agony A wilted throne and wand Which which would grant a wish of comedy, And therefore ever after, Not pain and guilt, but laughter So heavy is the hat that acts as crown, And so foolish is the King to think ‘imself as not one, Creaks the crow and also of the feathered guilt that follows, I Kept and bashful, wishing not the show as throne but sorrow, Kept to wick and wake and bones to shatter from tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Do you fear us? …do you wish to be feared? What of us? I seek to cause the wish that stands as though you may as granted. So shallow, fair child. And brother and my son also. Gross! Stop. You are weird! Dude, you are fucked. In the withdraw, my shadows and darkness Are there always, never resting Stories and gathered images, Visions of betrayal and archaic wants. In time, I've abandoned them all and betraying that which I've lost, For I know, and not ponder on That I shall never know love, As all standing tal over me Have eyes; And all I want Knows not what hides under my ugly. Alright. I followed your spiral, downward, and down wind and down wood, Into a place where I also aspired to show your mark Upon my rotted corpse or coarse crossifix; Sure worded and down trodden. Now, worse, I'm also sworn To mourn all my own losses, Kind folk. Kind hearted and now my eyes also sudden to wander— And there goes my miles and triumphs And morals and war songs, And sure, swallowed the barrel of a gun But also departed with honor, I tell I. Glimpses of wither and winter and whittling pain, And I slither my back to the center of All I am, in this, and shadows, Fairtails, And grains of rice and sand to twist away Into the rain as I lay dying. What a fortunate! Don't make my mark up and out, few for short times, Aye, conspire to warthog, Remember so force your spirit onto ours, And shake, sandbox! There aiming at you were the snakes of six liars, And the stakes of empires lost and won over, Also one solemn subtle Star of David Worn upon the neck of six monks, Ragtime Six popes, pass I; Six fathers and streaks solemn and Care tan teared salamander, Having weight and wake to cheer For our slaughter. Then, you, Having gained and also lost should reap to sow, What you'd have wanted; Though the tongue so convexed having way to guild your complex, Shaking as I hunger fruit that not but hangs Before l wanted I know, I could knot be consoled I know, I could not be consoled I know I could not be consolidated either Bought, or purchased I know I'm not consoled at all, I know I'm not confirmed at all I know, I know I'm not confronted, nor immortal — but your glorified affliction. Poor infinity. Of poverty, perhaps, but never poor at all. For your were warned of all the doors as opened at your calling. Not to walk though, But to ponder at them, wondering. he's gone Maybe I should go Too Heavy weight hanging on my Shoulders I'm just star struck I don't know You I don't really like saying What I go through Talk an hour, Fake it All day show Monologue Improvisation Now i'm on a roll, But my thoughts got darker I like adderall and a real smooth talker I like a husband-father , Doctor, Actor, Tall and handsome, Doesn't matter I'm alone, so i feel hopeless Aggie's gone, So i might as well go though Oh– She's gone ((I think i'm past my time)) I think i should go to She's gone (so long) Right on, man I might as well go to It's been a long time, Gotta turn my light off, Overtime, That's a long ball game Season's over; On my back in the middle of the ball court She's gone, So i might as well go too. 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 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.

Don't you see, sensei I'm just as disappointed in myself And ready to die Just as I relay the message, Spray me with your morbid essence Don't, croak, you fool, You've only a spoon ful of sugar left to go The dose is coming up your throat, — you didn't know to throw up Grab the rope and go up Before gravity has crushed your —thought: Stupid boy, you don't want to die— Nor to do, but oh, do we have it coming Silly mortal, overlords and governed, Short of morals, steady coming at your doorstep So goes our concert! And so goes our concept for divorce, And sure of course, Your four corse meal, and/or dessert This is just devastating, genetics made me The sort at sorting words, but surfing, Sure. Ever temporarily the cadence changes, Still they say “you've been betrayed” But never had a friend I made made As good as death and God have been to me For everything you're meant to be, Plus everything you're meant to me, I go, unwanted, troubled and disgusted at my own immortal outcome. Sure. My back hurts and I'm wounded, Heartbroke, Thrust in every cardinal direction Also, honored at the mark of magic wand Upon her shoulder; And so, Just as soon as the sun and moon, Does the fire escape set a perfect path For outward destruction of the bricks and mortar Or your alter (This we talk about, to some effect Is your repression and affective form of supernatural perfection) But forget the makeup; I can make you up to be a star And not of wars and other worlds, But those that come before us, Carson, and the others Paar before that. But, I think not dear sir How wrong you are, A wretched bird, Set not to fly, but O father Wit and relay messages, The passage said, and set to clocks, The past was won and so the future altered, But dear feathered father, Mortal you are not But just another triumph Of my god; And set the mirror to the magnets Camera, lights and action, Magic— All the signs of the dawn, and the mad don Red Dawn came upon us, called the Red Man Tom, from other, over, under Still was my mistake to mumble such Or put upon the tongue As such assumption Still— wonder? Bird, shut up; Love I dusk And lust I soak In all the frittered dust and feathers, Colors, coming up as mister Chuck and wood, and wait and ponder Slithered this to wonder, not a rock, But potted fern, Asunder Thunderstorm And wicked rain And fair the back A tide had come And sitting there upon the shore, Was us, and 12 apostles She's a Brick— Seemingly out of nowhere, A RED BRICK HOUSE falls very perfectly from the SKY and into OZ. oh good, my house is here. House. [the festival project ™] But I don't want to make house! Then play it! I don't want to play house it is BORING. You play it— they want it. But I don't want it. Then forget it! What! Listen kid, a job's a job! {Enter The Multiverse} Wrong, this is wrong— everything is wrong. What's wrong, Rob? I'll be back. ROB LOWE has just played TRUTH OR DARE L E G E N D S if I could get inside your head For just a second Bread and butter Heaven, hell, And other places I have wandered But oh, wonder This is never what I wanted, Was it? No sir. Sure, I set you off, No sooner had you got a gun and shot me. Handsome fucker. I'll bet. Wrong act. Wrong award show. Wrong hat and a baseball bat, Peanut butter and a nice cold cheesecake, Don't forget to order cheesesteak For your cat. A carnivore at odds with the other worlds, And also fused to us; This drifting back and forth Between the Rock And Hollywood Has got to stop. ((The world is toxic.)) the legend of… L. JONES It's you! BLŪ AH, crap. L. JONES Listen, I got something for you. BLŪ Where did your bird go? L.JONES What bird? CUT TO: Now open that. No wait! It's a trap! THE VAULT inside THE CRYPT at 30 ROCK has been opened. I keep looking down at my phone As if I'm expecting a phone call Or incoming message from God But the worlds to a song Are all jumbled up in my Concious I don't want to talk about it I feel Nauseous Everyone is being obnoxious Even my own blood I don't want to function I just want some French toast crunch For lunch Nostalgia I got a whole inch taller on the peloton Holla Now I got a body, Broader, So close to Broadway But I never go there That's a tall order Of “gotta have money” I mean live theatre It's fine I'll eat here And repeat these things till they just rhyme Line them all up like a context, Story Someday I'm gonna cut my own check Watch me lol none of this rhymes without a hard Brooklyn accent ; Guess you can't hack it! Send you ass packin! I said “That's whack son!” Then I went back blonde Now they want Backend, Contract, Off the top, Royalties Residuals I'm an individual with insidious syntax And yet I'm ridiculed Truly I'm a tit-for-tat Or particle of all you are Circular centrifuge, I trickle down your tentacles (Eugh) Choke the chicken just to give the cat a chicken bowl, Chick fil et and pret a tair just to get a ritual Espresso and a quick snack So I can get my dick wrapped In chocolate and licorice because the shit is edible Damn that I guess they set a damn trap By putting out the welcome mat, Then strapping Like a mothafuckin' straight jacket Matter fact, I look a nap in it, Then magic tricked the slip effective Compliments of Michael Jackson Or was it tech nine? Maybe I should get my Mind right I lost it once I guess I've better find it If I am, in fact, A diamond in the rough It's probably blooded it up enough That you should dig it up and shine it; Better yet, Somebody outta pick it up And sign it, Cause I write enough To put a vision To a blind man It's Fran Fine, man I'm behind, man The shadowgov had put me on a diet My bad I noticed that they tried to shut me up But couldn't stop the words or other stuff That just keeps coming out of my head I put coconuts as butter onto my bread And thinking thoughts of Carl cox As I drift off in my bed, I said, “It shouldn't be a problem, officer” As I reached for the gun And he aimed it at my death. That's an impossible apocalyptic suicide— Did you invite the devil in? I said “Nah, but that guy did.” The problem is, I pointed over yonder to a ghost Who also knows that I'm a well respected psychic; Nevermind a sidekick, side bitch in a sidecar, Psych ward, Sike! We spike war on your kind! So far, If I make history tonight, The other side decides their psalm is just as likely The third reike. Okay, strike one: I'm gonna turn your lights off. Strike two : you do and say what I do: Strike three: we're gonna make you suicidal I specialize in denying rights for high profits But big brother, or boss— What if my glove fits? The instance it does, We lock you up with no service, Your world becomes dark And your words become worthless Oh shit. This is not a good rap song. Like, at all. I must say, I do agree, You lose your trust, but silently Denied is all your trouble, Till it just begins to bubble up Until the cookie crumbles— See that feeling in your stomach? This is bigger than the money, girl — They want your soul, and then the world! I told you never call him. I didn't! Then explain this: [Skrillex] *sharp inward sigh* CUT IMMIDIATLEH TO STAN You know what! That's it! I don't care how handsome or rich and famous he is! This has to stop! KYLE Hey, wait just a minute— STAN SHUT UP KYLE. KYLE You shut up! STAN You're starting to sound just like him! KYLE Take that back! STAN I won't take it back! You all might have forgotten who you are, but I haven't!after of fact, I bet to Cartman, you're still that stupid little Jew kid! KYLE That's IT. KYLE takes out his phone. what are you doing? …I'm tweeting about this. I thought it was X now… It is, but you can't ‘x' anything, it's still calledl tweeting. I guess youre right. —and I'm tagging Cartman ! STAN Are you serious? Oh shit, this is social suicide. …did I ever explain this storyline? …I don't know, did i? I'd gotten so focused on this impending doom looming over me with this whole lawsuit that I'd forgotten entire worlds and whole documents. Even more terrifying, was the sudden quiet and the onset guilt that came over me for getting distracted. But I couldn't remove myself from it entirely—- it seemed to have ruined everything. It wasn't just motorcycle noises, it was like a nervousness and angst twisting in my stomach for months and months, until finally, as the court dates started approaching, it was peaceful, or rather, normal, all of a sudden. It couldn't be peaceful because now that the extreme noise was gone, I knew it had been planted all long— but what was the purpose? I'd lost two years not knowing, and though there were albums, they were never what I wanted. Now I was sorting through the documents of the show like it was the rubble of a decimated building— completely demolished, and I hadn't the slightest clue the contexts or the storylines anymore. It was pain and suffering, but not in the legal context. It was a creative disaster— I hadn't any idea in the slightest where I'd left my audience before I was forced to abandon them. But I was forced to choose, at times, between soap and toilet paper, or eventually, food, and water— or a phone. Eventually, this too became a pattern of the impossible— trying my hardest to do what I thought had been my purpose, but for far, being so endlessly sabotaged, even ridiculed and humiliated, and still, I couldn't understand why. I was tired— and somehow, even though I'd wanted to be left alone, I was the target. Worse was that I assumed it to be bigger than I thought and completely out of control— I thought immediately back to how my best friend from middle school had been attacked, and how she was made to think that it was me…to the point that she'd become obsessive about it to call my mom over it. And as far as the court was concerned, to the wrong ears or wrong eyes, anything I'd published in the festival project could look troublesome, like the ramblings of a mad mad, or schizo, or uncontrolled obsessive thoughts— because the biggest secrets of all, the things that tied together these fictional worlds and plots, were my own real life experience. The inability in a court of law to detail the podcast, which had started as meltdown some would call grandiose over an almost long forgotten rockstar and a porn model — and the entries into the festival project that followed, which included high concepts, off-kilter comedy, politics, and even fringed on social justice. Nothing I ever would have wanted and especially over money, but the lawsuit wasn't about money at all. In fact, at any moment I would have chosen to die and have it all stop if it weren't for my very young son being left alone. Though recently the dread had overcome with a sense of unbearable loss and agony, encrypted with suicidal thoughts and wants, reeling for human touch, the overbearing factor seemed to be that if I killed myself, I was giving someone what they wanted. I was really much too tired to go on, but leaving behind the world in entirety, in my very own way of beliefs wasn't just “shitutting it off”, it was starting it over. Understandably and undeniably immortal in its nature, the instances of God I had left spoke with a reminiscence of being born again, and having to remember which is it I'd wanted to start off. It was an unachievable overload of chaos and disruption, a level of corruption that spoke to something so dark and sinister it seemed biblical — then, again, I tried to wrap my mind around a way to rebuild a positive world from hope and thought, or manifest reality, but this is the very experience I'd felt was intended all along. The motorcycles weren't merely meant to destroy my career, or my will power, or force— they were, but also they were made to play upon my most valuable asset, the power of thought, to make it impossible to become something other than what was wanted; to use my own mind against itself and destroy my way of thought by using vibrations that could not be shut out, or stopped— they followed me to the sound collective, to Shakespeare in the park, the bank, the doctors office— it was as if they knew and understood my very thoughts, my process. It was of nothing at all to corrupt every single body and brain who would surround me or come close— by using the power that seemed supernatural enough, but indeed were powered by money, and technology. Perhaps, in this essence, I thought, was the purest display of defective intention itself; the mere thought that this indeed was rather Good Vs. Evil or God and The Devil would easily be written off as a diseased way of thought. The social world and constructs had been built around being open minded to a system of psychology that was intrinsically rather corrupt. I knew this could only be fought with what I knew, and what I could draw from as logic. I didn't want to go to court because I knew the people I would be fighting were liars, and well trained psychological masters of manipulation, well hidden terrorists dressed as public servants and systematic corrupters all for simple profit margins, to whom I was not so much a person or a mother, or a daughter, but a number. Because I was poor, and had once or four times chosen to love the wrong person in an unorthodox and uncontrollable form of torture, dismissing each and every social construct or physiology that was by the book, by embracing that there was a reason for change I quickly became quite the antagonist of sorts and hopefully not some sort of martyr —for the kind of people that had money and property, and perhaps even socially constructed circles to camoflage their own self doubt and hatred, but absolutely also had no morals. –Death of a Superstar DJ If I lose my mind At least I know I'm right on time This time— I meant that, I had it bad this time MCBADBAT I had it bad this time, And the last. Perchance for you, Hour or folded, Hair my weight And glassed upon thy, This upon now, Feathered waking, And there barely weathered Shaking. Dear, dear, Tis is fair truth, To fare that I have gasp And fated at thy doorstep; And yet, care to force, Her breaking waves and saving tinder, Fit there slithered in as yet astonished, Then another; And I hated. So, then, slower now. All there, gathered none. And show to show thy force What then became and withered after, None to bark or beg But birds and feathered creatures, pander The tides did Quake, And the heart did grow ten fold and steady saying None upon us but one left to shiver in the depths That yet remain as undiscovered For now never there was another world, Undone, And also another becomes, My death— And therefore all the worlds I kept, To travel on and travel As becomes one, does another onward As the first is glass to dust, And last is born there. So, Then, I, Crept, In my dress, Kept for clothes that church did water I, met, My mark and there the doors of shadows open Wilted and wake? Hear you; A star was born In other cosmos tied with our own nurture So, Kept, The weight of clasp and bone That holds the crept and precious alter Goddamn cat! Where are you. AAtticus Caaticus Oop. Gotta go. Toonces! Tooooonces! Where are you? Omg remember that one where that couple has a magic toddler and they just let him like,float away. Yeah, barely. Yeah. So I do. CUT TO: TOONCES focuses intently on the task at hand; he's sure he can manage to drive the human vehicle to his own home— to where he's assured he will find the actual body in which he belongs. Now… let's see, if I can just Wait, I who? ATTICUS CATTICUS, An ancient alien sorcerer must relay a series of important messages. Unfortunately. YO WHAT THE FUCK. None of them seem to be getting through. CUT BACK TO: TOONCEEESSSS. here kitty kitty kitty!! {Enter the Multiverse} I would dedicate, but honestly I've not time to waste And I'm craving wedding cake I hate to destroy you But for now, you know I can't employ you; This implies my eyes are also murder And I'm sure of her departure From another world, Perhaps across the border. Also, quite the dark sorcerer himself LORNE MICHAELS has well hidden himself under the guise of having become one of the most successful television producer of all times— And even in his own very small world, Nobody quite seems to know why. JIMMY FALLON Lorne, I have to tell you something. LORNE MICHAELS This had better be good, Jimmy, I've just made popcorn. [the festival project ™] Don't worry, for now, The risk remains hidden, As sure as an asset is an advantage, I can't have the classes counting Heads of cabbage as accomplishes, The masses are honestly astonished And impossible, but what was wrong with Boredom in the first place? Nonsense More words And still no dollars Hunger strike, And burning harder, California deficit, lack of bread, Heaven sent interventions and scissors, Mistresses, disasters and divorces But who says the whole story has to suffer? You're a surfer under water, Remember that when you finally catch your breath above the surface Can you clear her? He who? Back to work! Or back to the future! My super brain is dead but I think I'm next I think heaven swallows whole the blooded laugher From the constructs I've come from. Remember that. Remember not to fall from too far up, God would give you wings With time to spare Before you ever wondered where Your mark was On the plaza Don't let me up to the very top. I will at the very least Best scenario jump off And rid the world myself, Just for a dozen donuts over Crossing hearts and Hollywood And Griffith park To also soft my foot Upon red carpets. You ever shave your armpits!? …no. Hm. Catholic. Of course. Get in. Destination. —Rotterdam. You idiot. I made it. Whatever, get in the boat. DI NERO Give her your shirt. What. Your shirt. Why my shirt. Just— Fine. Here. [he hands over his shirt— in an instant, the woman becomes an exact REPLICA.] …my shirt. Relax. Nothing's gonna happen to it. Okay? —in fact, you're still wearing it. Alright! She's right, Jimmy, relax. I can't, that's— It's simple. There is nothing simple about this whatsoever. You're right. It's not, so get over it. [The Festival Project ™] BILL MURRAY There's a compartment at the end of the left corridor— Alright. In that hatch, there's a chamber. Okay, what'll I do? You'll open it? How? I'll tell you how, just get there. Suddenly, a barrier falls; it appears as though there are booby traps set here. Uh— that might be a problem. There might be a few of them. What just happened? Booby traps. —ah, I know what you're talking. Those aren't booby traps— they're Bobby Traps. What in the Hell are you talking about? For whatever reason Jimmy Kimmel Is important Now I'm scared of him, I know he knows the devil Come to think of it, Might even be an advocate Have an avocado But don't know the half of it These are, as it stands Comes what may Special circumstances I could circumvent an intervention, Never second chances I've been setting rat traps, Trapeze artists, Bampheramph camp, And also trampolines over the plaza That seems dangerous. Yeah. AHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Damn. Know it's plausible, That I also am an alcoholic, Though dysfunctional, Professional, And underrepresented So I stand myself, Let's just say pro-se if you will I could add Prozac to my snacks But I'll be delayed, if you still Don't get my messages I'm sick of having heart attacks; A hard advantage I was looking back on “fully packaged” A six pack of abs And nothing left to eat but cabbage, Haven't had a mouth, But I've been counting on my ass To get me back up north, I'm coming from the South Out West, there's a word for that At best, you're a four and a half My body double stunts and stumbles Struts at nothing Struck before the one, And so between high noon and Somewhere around 30 in I'm never turning 30, 30 Rock is in the wind— So count that up, That's what my income is. That's what they said? “Too late, you've been betrayed” If that's how it is, Then I request “beheaded” You know your mother says That ugly face just becomes permanent If you keep making it, And so I did, The second that it ended I'm Trying so hard Just to be What they want That it hurts Just to stop And relax For a moment INT. THE LAIR. NIGHT What is this? Where am I? You're— Alive. Why? …I changed my mind. You're not ugly You're just not mine I changed my mind I changed my life around. I skip line after line, But the message ain't right, I have time a chance No challenge accepted No exceptions or Expectations Expand this racism vocabulary Set the rat traps back To February Stamp the weather's getting Better with the postage clearing Abstr– My cat is so cute I can't stand him; But he's pretty bad, That my only friend; Animal. I blacklisted deadmau5, And my whole set sucked. Presently, however I'm a peasant Plucking pheasant feathers Guess I– pppftt. Like it never even happened But I'm sure we're all to war, Like a fear I never grasp it, What's l before, uncertain of your l words— My dear, were tattered and the masters heavy handed, Oh, my dear, we're marching on a battered Wit, to all your fan mail I tel you, I was I tortured, Let me show you And also, No one forced my hand at magic, Questioned prestidigitation, Or went back to every second, Land you think you owned as time In fact, my crucial very hard earned gossip column Asks the reader to reform his or her thought Before a judgement can be made How fascinating. The bag says ‘poems' so I wrote one, But I'm sure since my marker's toggled on I'm being stalked, It's like a magnet, Punch the clock And here they pour into the coffin So I won't be pouring coffee for the puffin; Maybe someday I'll look back at this as all I ever wanted, But for now it's just a horror show, Where I belong the murder— Yet a thriller, Best, The audience is captivated, Yes This is evasive, Cause I can't been captured yet By either masses or Mass murderers. At last, a cadence comes clean of its Breaking waves and rhythms, Tides and ties, Becomes another— Then, I'm whisked away Not back to slumber, but of subtle thoughts Of Californian water Lapping up across our surfboards; I often wear them tides, The undertow As pull of greater waves I sit aside as all that passes [The Festival Project ™] When I see Calvin Klein, I think of you; Not what you used to be But turned in to So it's mutual— Pay attention, fool As does moss grow on a rock And this to you— It is unfortunate, my dear You miss with every twist, Adjustment of attention span, The glances I foreshadowed (Here you are, inside your past) It's just affective of the effect, You've been levitating, Yes, I find it devastating Every second kept is just a fortune But you pause before you post— You reap before you even think Of what you sow, You don't belong, Agast, (True) Set the tone, Classless, But I'm Art, you are a Daunting folk song, Mistletoe and marker. CAMERA ASSISTANT Marker. …what is this for again? CAMERA ASSISTANT (Annoyed, mumbling) Shut up. Ten minutes passes and still, I'm awake But the tragedy of the mistake has just set in, I'm sure I've been tortured, I'm paid in mistakes, but I'd rather be shattered with Mortimer's curse. To the tune of Ten by ten by ten I will never be lover, nor friend in the end. {Enter The Multiverse] DRAKE concentrates heavily on a very long , seemingly very angry message— a frowning face plastered as he writes that is so noteworthy, it catches the attention of many a passerby— still this focus unwatered, as he bashes heavily away at the text message with the thumbs of fury for over 30 minutes while sitting at a booth in a well-loved pancake restaurant. As a tall stack of pancakes is served before him, and he, still unbreaking this angry texting streak or eye contact with his phone sits before them, history is made in what internet culture has now deemed as “the most meme worthy face in history” The world wonders what he could possibly be writing— and more importantly—-who he could be texting. Tears come to his eyes but do not fall as he raises his thumb with reserve, to finally press [RETURN.] CUT TO: SUNNI BLU receives a text amidst a wild party. Almost without so much as a reaction, SUNNI BLU pings the message to a projector and cuts off the lights, and music. A VERY LONG, ANGRY TEXT is projected on the wall. I slept from 10-2 There was nothing else to do My name is Devin DeLouise And I am not supposed to know these things Seven are dead and three are left I know what's next I'm also often known as And referred to as coyote ugly; Suffering a tantra wall, Yo, you son of a bitch! You dirty, dirty son of a bitch. I must admit, I had a lot to do with this… I had no part in it! Relax… soon enough, the both of your realize— this is how the unimaginable gets written. [he loads the polished sterling silver pistol and glamours over it] You have our memory. —all memory. And as soon as it ends, before it can begin again. The slate is wiped clean. Good riddance. “A Different Kind of Monologue” Is this what you wanted? Ooh— you should try me! I wish you would try me! Try me! I wish you would. Be calm, Grand Master. This will all be over momentarily. What's going on. Deprivation chamber. Crypt? —Encrypted? A lockup. Ah. Thought so. That ought to show us what he's really made up. We can all hope. [he pounds on the glass, the one way mirror acts as a camera which the maj aresses, rabid and wi the anger of a dangerous animal, both we, n audience, and the small group of men gathered a the other side of the room. This could be the basis of a lot of lawsuits. So now I have your tears and agony A wilted throne and wand Which which would grant a wish of comedy, And therefore ever after, Not pain and guilt, but laughter So heavy is the hat that acts as crown, And so foolish is the King to think ‘imself as not one, Creaks the crow and also of the feathered guilt that follows, I Kept and bashful, wishing not the show as throne but sorrow, Kept to wick and wake and bones to shatter from tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Do you fear us? …do you wish to be feared? What of us? I seek to cause the wish that stands as though you may as granted. So shallow, fair child. And brother and my son also. Gross! Stop. You are weird! Dude, you are fucked. In the withdraw, my shadows and darkness Are there always, never resting Stories and gathered images, Visions of betrayal and archaic wants. In time, I've abandoned them all and betraying that which I've lost, For I know, and not ponder on That I shall never know love, As all standing tal over me Have eyes; And all I want Knows not what hides under my ugly. Alright. I followed your spiral, downward, and down wind and down wood, Into a place where I also aspired to show your mark Upon my rotted corpse or coarse crossifix; Sure worded and down trodden. Now, worse, I'm also sworn To mourn all my own losses, Kind folk. Kind hearted and now my eyes also sudden to wander— And there goes my miles and triumphs And morals and war songs, And sure, swallowed the barrel of a gun But also departed with honor, I tell I. Glimpses of wither and winter and whittling pain, And I slither my back to the center of All I am, in this, and shadows, Fairtails, And grains of rice and sand to twist away Into the rain as I lay dying. What a fortunate! Don't make my mark up and out, few for short times, Aye, conspire to warthog, Remember so force your spirit onto ours, And shake, sandbox! There aiming at you were the snakes of six liars, And the stakes of empires lost and won over, Also one solemn subtle Star of David Worn upon the neck of six monks, Ragtime Six popes, pass I; Six fathers and streaks solemn and Care tan teared salamander, Having weight and wake to cheer For our slaughter. Then, you, Having gained and also lost should reap to sow, What you'd have wanted; Though the tongue so convexed having way to guild your complex, Shaking as I hunger fruit that not but hangs Before l wanted I know, I could knot be consoled I know, I could not be consoled I know I could not be consolidated either Bought, or purchased I know I'm not consoled at all, I know I'm not confirmed at all I know, I know I'm not confronted, nor immortal — but your glorified affliction. Poor infinity. Of poverty, perhaps, but never poor at all. For your were warned of all the doors as opened at your calling. Not to walk though, But to ponder at them, wondering. he's gone Maybe I should go Too Heavy weight hanging on my Shoulders I'm just star struck I don't know You I don't really like saying What I go through Talk an hour, Fake it All day show Monologue Improvisation Now i'm on a roll, But my thoughts got darker I like adderall and a real smooth talker I like a husband-father , Doctor, Actor, Tall and handsome, Doesn't matter I'm alone, so i feel hopeless Aggie's gone, So i might as well go though Oh– She's gone ((I think i'm past my time)) I think i should go to She's gone (so long) Right on, man I might as well go to It's been a long time, Gotta turn my light off, Overtime, That's a long ball game Season's over; On my back in the middle of the ball court She's gone, So i might as well go too. 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 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.

Don't you see, sensei I'm just as disappointed in myself And ready to die Just as I relay the message, Spray me with your morbid essence Don't, croak, you fool, You've only a spoon ful of sugar left to go The dose is coming up your throat, — you didn't know to throw up Grab the rope and go up Before gravity has crushed your —thought: Stupid boy, you don't want to die— Nor to do, but oh, do we have it coming Silly mortal, overlords and governed, Short of morals, steady coming at your doorstep So goes our concert! And so goes our concept for divorce, And sure of course, Your four corse meal, and/or dessert This is just devastating, genetics made me The sort at sorting words, but surfing, Sure. Ever temporarily the cadence changes, Still they say “you've been betrayed” But never had a friend I made made As good as death and God have been to me For everything you're meant to be, Plus everything you're meant to me, I go, unwanted, troubled and disgusted at my own immortal outcome. Sure. My back hurts and I'm wounded, Heartbroke, Thrust in every cardinal direction Also, honored at the mark of magic wand Upon her shoulder; And so, Just as soon as the sun and moon, Does the fire escape set a perfect path For outward destruction of the bricks and mortar Or your alter (This we talk about, to some effect Is your repression and affective form of supernatural perfection) But forget the makeup; I can make you up to be a star And not of wars and other worlds, But those that come before us, Carson, and the others Paar before that. But, I think not dear sir How wrong you are, A wretched bird, Set not to fly, but O father Wit and relay messages, The passage said, and set to clocks, The past was won and so the future altered, But dear feathered father, Mortal you are not But just another triumph Of my god; And set the mirror to the magnets Camera, lights and action, Magic— All the signs of the dawn, and the mad don Red Dawn came upon us, called the Red Man Tom, from other, over, under Still was my mistake to mumble such Or put upon the tongue As such assumption Still— wonder? Bird, shut up; Love I dusk And lust I soak In all the frittered dust and feathers, Colors, coming up as mister Chuck and wood, and wait and ponder Slithered this to wonder, not a rock, But potted fern, Asunder Thunderstorm And wicked rain And fair the back A tide had come And sitting there upon the shore, Was us, and 12 apostles She's a Brick— Seemingly out of nowhere, A RED BRICK HOUSE falls very perfectly from the SKY and into OZ. oh good, my house is here. House. [the festival project ™] But I don't want to make house! Then play it! I don't want to play house it is BORING. You play it— they want it. But I don't want it. Then forget it! What! Listen kid, a job's a job! {Enter The Multiverse} Wrong, this is wrong— everything is wrong. What's wrong, Rob? I'll be back. ROB LOWE has just played TRUTH OR DARE L E G E N D S if I could get inside your head For just a second Bread and butter Heaven, hell, And other places I have wandered But oh, wonder This is never what I wanted, Was it? No sir. Sure, I set you off, No sooner had you got a gun and shot me. Handsome fucker. I'll bet. Wrong act. Wrong award show. Wrong hat and a baseball bat, Peanut butter and a nice cold cheesecake, Don't forget to order cheesesteak For your cat. A carnivore at odds with the other worlds, And also fused to us; This drifting back and forth Between the Rock And Hollywood Has got to stop. ((The world is toxic.)) the legend of… L. JONES It's you! BLŪ AH, crap. L. JONES Listen, I got something for you. BLŪ Where did your bird go? L.JONES What bird? CUT TO: Now open that. No wait! It's a trap! THE VAULT inside THE CRYPT at 30 ROCK has been opened. I keep looking down at my phone As if I'm expecting a phone call Or incoming message from God But the worlds to a song Are all jumbled up in my Concious I don't want to talk about it I feel Nauseous Everyone is being obnoxious Even my own blood I don't want to function I just want some French toast crunch For lunch Nostalgia I got a whole inch taller on the peloton Holla Now I got a body, Broader, So close to Broadway But I never go there That's a tall order Of “gotta have money” I mean live theatre It's fine I'll eat here And repeat these things till they just rhyme Line them all up like a context, Story Someday I'm gonna cut my own check Watch me lol none of this rhymes without a hard Brooklyn accent ; Guess you can't hack it! Send you ass packin! I said “That's whack son!” Then I went back blonde Now they want Backend, Contract, Off the top, Royalties Residuals I'm an individual with insidious syntax And yet I'm ridiculed Truly I'm a tit-for-tat Or particle of all you are Circular centrifuge, I trickle down your tentacles (Eugh) Choke the chicken just to give the cat a chicken bowl, Chick fil et and pret a tair just to get a ritual Espresso and a quick snack So I can get my dick wrapped In chocolate and licorice because the shit is edible Damn that I guess they set a damn trap By putting out the welcome mat, Then strapping Like a mothafuckin' straight jacket Matter fact, I look a nap in it, Then magic tricked the slip effective Compliments of Michael Jackson Or was it tech nine? Maybe I should get my Mind right I lost it once I guess I've better find it If I am, in fact, A diamond in the rough It's probably blooded it up enough That you should dig it up and shine it; Better yet, Somebody outta pick it up And sign it, Cause I write enough To put a vision To a blind man It's Fran Fine, man I'm behind, man The shadowgov had put me on a diet My bad I noticed that they tried to shut me up But couldn't stop the words or other stuff That just keeps coming out of my head I put coconuts as butter onto my bread And thinking thoughts of Carl cox As I drift off in my bed, I said, “It shouldn't be a problem, officer” As I reached for the gun And he aimed it at my death. That's an impossible apocalyptic suicide— Did you invite the devil in? I said “Nah, but that guy did.” The problem is, I pointed over yonder to a ghost Who also knows that I'm a well respected psychic; Nevermind a sidekick, side bitch in a sidecar, Psych ward, Sike! We spike war on your kind! So far, If I make history tonight, The other side decides their psalm is just as likely The third reike. Okay, strike one: I'm gonna turn your lights off. Strike two : you do and say what I do: Strike three: we're gonna make you suicidal I specialize in denying rights for high profits But big brother, or boss— What if my glove fits? The instance it does, We lock you up with no service, Your world becomes dark And your words become worthless Oh shit. This is not a good rap song. Like, at all. I must say, I do agree, You lose your trust, but silently Denied is all your trouble, Till it just begins to bubble up Until the cookie crumbles— See that feeling in your stomach? This is bigger than the money, girl — They want your soul, and then the world! I told you never call him. I didn't! Then explain this: [Skrillex] *sharp inward sigh* CUT IMMIDIATLEH TO STAN You know what! That's it! I don't care how handsome or rich and famous he is! This has to stop! KYLE Hey, wait just a minute— STAN SHUT UP KYLE. KYLE You shut up! STAN You're starting to sound just like him! KYLE Take that back! STAN I won't take it back! You all might have forgotten who you are, but I haven't!after of fact, I bet to Cartman, you're still that stupid little Jew kid! KYLE That's IT. KYLE takes out his phone. what are you doing? …I'm tweeting about this. I thought it was X now… It is, but you can't ‘x' anything, it's still calledl tweeting. I guess youre right. —and I'm tagging Cartman ! STAN Are you serious? Oh shit, this is social suicide. …did I ever explain this storyline? …I don't know, did i? I'd gotten so focused on this impending doom looming over me with this whole lawsuit that I'd forgotten entire worlds and whole documents. Even more terrifying, was the sudden quiet and the onset guilt that came over me for getting distracted. But I couldn't remove myself from it entirely—- it seemed to have ruined everything. It wasn't just motorcycle noises, it was like a nervousness and angst twisting in my stomach for months and months, until finally, as the court dates started approaching, it was peaceful, or rather, normal, all of a sudden. It couldn't be peaceful because now that the extreme noise was gone, I knew it had been planted all long— but what was the purpose? I'd lost two years not knowing, and though there were albums, they were never what I wanted. Now I was sorting through the documents of the show like it was the rubble of a decimated building— completely demolished, and I hadn't the slightest clue the contexts or the storylines anymore. It was pain and suffering, but not in the legal context. It was a creative disaster— I hadn't any idea in the slightest where I'd left my audience before I was forced to abandon them. But I was forced to choose, at times, between soap and toilet paper, or eventually, food, and water— or a phone. Eventually, this too became a pattern of the impossible— trying my hardest to do what I thought had been my purpose, but for far, being so endlessly sabotaged, even ridiculed and humiliated, and still, I couldn't understand why. I was tired— and somehow, even though I'd wanted to be left alone, I was the target. Worse was that I assumed it to be bigger than I thought and completely out of control— I thought immediately back to how my best friend from middle school had been attacked, and how she was made to think that it was me…to the point that she'd become obsessive about it to call my mom over it. And as far as the court was concerned, to the wrong ears or wrong eyes, anything I'd published in the festival project could look troublesome, like the ramblings of a mad mad, or schizo, or uncontrolled obsessive thoughts— because the biggest secrets of all, the things that tied together these fictional worlds and plots, were my own real life experience. The inability in a court of law to detail the podcast, which had started as meltdown some would call grandiose over an almost long forgotten rockstar and a porn model — and the entries into the festival project that followed, which included high concepts, off-kilter comedy, politics, and even fringed on social justice. Nothing I ever would have wanted and especially over money, but the lawsuit wasn't about money at all. In fact, at any moment I would have chosen to die and have it all stop if it weren't for my very young son being left alone. Though recently the dread had overcome with a sense of unbearable loss and agony, encrypted with suicidal thoughts and wants, reeling for human touch, the overbearing factor seemed to be that if I killed myself, I was giving someone what they wanted. I was really much too tired to go on, but leaving behind the world in entirety, in my very own way of beliefs wasn't just “shitutting it off”, it was starting it over. Understandably and undeniably immortal in its nature, the instances of God I had left spoke with a reminiscence of being born again, and having to remember which is it I'd wanted to start off. It was an unachievable overload of chaos and disruption, a level of corruption that spoke to something so dark and sinister it seemed biblical — then, again, I tried to wrap my mind around a way to rebuild a positive world from hope and thought, or manifest reality, but this is the very experience I'd felt was intended all along. The motorcycles weren't merely meant to destroy my career, or my will power, or force— they were, but also they were made to play upon my most valuable asset, the power of thought, to make it impossible to become something other than what was wanted; to use my own mind against itself and destroy my way of thought by using vibrations that could not be shut out, or stopped— they followed me to the sound collective, to Shakespeare in the park, the bank, the doctors office— it was as if they knew and understood my very thoughts, my process. It was of nothing at all to corrupt every single body and brain who would surround me or come close— by using the power that seemed supernatural enough, but indeed were powered by money, and technology. Perhaps, in this essence, I thought, was the purest display of defective intention itself; the mere thought that this indeed was rather Good Vs. Evil or God and The Devil would easily be written off as a diseased way of thought. The social world and constructs had been built around being open minded to a system of psychology that was intrinsically rather corrupt. I knew this could only be fought with what I knew, and what I could draw from as logic. I didn't want to go to court because I knew the people I would be fighting were liars, and well trained psychological masters of manipulation, well hidden terrorists dressed as public servants and systematic corrupters all for simple profit margins, to whom I was not so much a person or a mother, or a daughter, but a number. Because I was poor, and had once or four times chosen to love the wrong person in an unorthodox and uncontrollable form of torture, dismissing each and every social construct or physiology that was by the book, by embracing that there was a reason for change I quickly became quite the antagonist of sorts and hopefully not some sort of martyr —for the kind of people that had money and property, and perhaps even socially constructed circles to camoflage their own self doubt and hatred, but absolutely also had no morals. –Death of a Superstar DJ If I lose my mind At least I know I'm right on time This time— I meant that, I had it bad this time MCBADBAT I had it bad this time, And the last. Perchance for you, Hour or folded, Hair my weight And glassed upon thy, This upon now, Feathered waking, And there barely weathered Shaking. Dear, dear, Tis is fair truth, To fare that I have gasp And fated at thy doorstep; And yet, care to force, Her breaking waves and saving tinder, Fit there slithered in as yet astonished, Then another; And I hated. So, then, slower now. All there, gathered none. And show to show thy force What then became and withered after, None to bark or beg But birds and feathered creatures, pander The tides did Quake, And the heart did grow ten fold and steady saying None upon us but one left to shiver in the depths That yet remain as undiscovered For now never there was another world, Undone, And also another becomes, My death— And therefore all the worlds I kept, To travel on and travel As becomes one, does another onward As the first is glass to dust, And last is born there. So, Then, I, Crept, In my dress, Kept for clothes that church did water I, met, My mark and there the doors of shadows open Wilted and wake? Hear you; A star was born In other cosmos tied with our own nurture So, Kept, The weight of clasp and bone That holds the crept and precious alter Goddamn cat! Where are you. AAtticus Caaticus Oop. Gotta go. Toonces! Tooooonces! Where are you? Omg remember that one where that couple has a magic toddler and they just let him like,float away. Yeah, barely. Yeah. So I do. CUT TO: TOONCES focuses intently on the task at hand; he's sure he can manage to drive the human vehicle to his own home— to where he's assured he will find the actual body in which he belongs. Now… let's see, if I can just Wait, I who? ATTICUS CATTICUS, An ancient alien sorcerer must relay a series of important messages. Unfortunately. YO WHAT THE FUCK. None of them seem to be getting through. CUT BACK TO: TOONCEEESSSS. here kitty kitty kitty!! {Enter the Multiverse} I would dedicate, but honestly I've not time to waste And I'm craving wedding cake I hate to destroy you But for now, you know I can't employ you; This implies my eyes are also murder And I'm sure of her departure From another world, Perhaps across the border. Also, quite the dark sorcerer himself LORNE MICHAELS has well hidden himself under the guise of having become one of the most successful television producer of all times— And even in his own very small world, Nobody quite seems to know why. JIMMY FALLON Lorne, I have to tell you something. LORNE MICHAELS This had better be good, Jimmy, I've just made popcorn. [the festival project ™] Don't worry, for now, The risk remains hidden, As sure as an asset is an advantage, I can't have the classes counting Heads of cabbage as accomplishes, The masses are honestly astonished And impossible, but what was wrong with Boredom in the first place? Nonsense More words And still no dollars Hunger strike, And burning harder, California deficit, lack of bread, Heaven sent interventions and scissors, Mistresses, disasters and divorces But who says the whole story has to suffer? You're a surfer under water, Remember that when you finally catch your breath above the surface Can you clear her? He who? Back to work! Or back to the future! My super brain is dead but I think I'm next I think heaven swallows whole the blooded laugher From the constructs I've come from. Remember that. Remember not to fall from too far up, God would give you wings With time to spare Before you ever wondered where Your mark was On the plaza Don't let me up to the very top. I will at the very least Best scenario jump off And rid the world myself, Just for a dozen donuts over Crossing hearts and Hollywood And Griffith park To also soft my foot Upon red carpets. You ever shave your armpits!? …no. Hm. Catholic. Of course. Get in. Destination. —Rotterdam. You idiot. I made it. Whatever, get in the boat. DI NERO Give her your shirt. What. Your shirt. Why my shirt. Just— Fine. Here. [he hands over his shirt— in an instant, the woman becomes an exact REPLICA.] …my shirt. Relax. Nothing's gonna happen to it. Okay? —in fact, you're still wearing it. Alright! She's right, Jimmy, relax. I can't, that's— It's simple. There is nothing simple about this whatsoever. You're right. It's not, so get over it. [The Festival Project ™] BILL MURRAY There's a compartment at the end of the left corridor— Alright. In that hatch, there's a chamber. Okay, what'll I do? You'll open it? How? I'll tell you how, just get there. Suddenly, a barrier falls; it appears as though there are booby traps set here. Uh— that might be a problem. There might be a few of them. What just happened? Booby traps. —ah, I know what you're talking. Those aren't booby traps— they're Bobby Traps. What in the Hell are you talking about? For whatever reason Jimmy Kimmel Is important Now I'm scared of him, I know he knows the devil Come to think of it, Might even be an advocate Have an avocado But don't know the half of it These are, as it stands Comes what may Special circumstances I could circumvent an intervention, Never second chances I've been setting rat traps, Trapeze artists, Bampheramph camp, And also trampolines over the plaza That seems dangerous. Yeah. AHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Damn. Know it's plausible, That I also am an alcoholic, Though dysfunctional, Professional, And underrepresented So I stand myself, Let's just say pro-se if you will I could add Prozac to my snacks But I'll be delayed, if you still Don't get my messages I'm sick of having heart attacks; A hard advantage I was looking back on “fully packaged” A six pack of abs And nothing left to eat but cabbage, Haven't had a mouth, But I've been counting on my ass To get me back up north, I'm coming from the South Out West, there's a word for that At best, you're a four and a half My body double stunts and stumbles Struts at nothing Struck before the one, And so between high noon and Somewhere around 30 in I'm never turning 30, 30 Rock is in the wind— So count that up, That's what my income is. That's what they said? “Too late, you've been betrayed” If that's how it is, Then I request “beheaded” You know your mother says That ugly face just becomes permanent If you keep making it, And so I did, The second that it ended I'm Trying so hard Just to be What they want That it hurts Just to stop And relax For a moment INT. THE LAIR. NIGHT What is this? Where am I? You're— Alive. Why? …I changed my mind. You're not ugly You're just not mine I changed my mind I changed my life around. I skip line after line, But the message ain't right, I have time a chance No challenge accepted No exceptions or Expectations Expand this racism vocabulary Set the rat traps back To February Stamp the weather's getting Better with the postage clearing Abstr– My cat is so cute I can't stand him; But he's pretty bad, That my only friend; Animal. I blacklisted deadmau5, And my whole set sucked. Presently, however I'm a peasant Plucking pheasant feathers Guess I– pppftt. Like it never even happened But I'm sure we're all to war, Like a fear I never grasp it, What's l before, uncertain of your l words— My dear, were tattered and the masters heavy handed, Oh, my dear, we're marching on a battered Wit, to all your fan mail I tel you, I was I tortured, Let me show you And also, No one forced my hand at magic, Questioned prestidigitation, Or went back to every second, Land you think you owned as time In fact, my crucial very hard earned gossip column Asks the reader to reform his or her thought Before a judgement can be made How fascinating. The bag says ‘poems' so I wrote one, But I'm sure since my marker's toggled on I'm being stalked, It's like a magnet, Punch the clock And here they pour into the coffin So I won't be pouring coffee for the puffin; Maybe someday I'll look back at this as all I ever wanted, But for now it's just a horror show, Where I belong the murder— Yet a thriller, Best, The audience is captivated, Yes This is evasive, Cause I can't been captured yet By either masses or Mass murderers. At last, a cadence comes clean of its Breaking waves and rhythms, Tides and ties, Becomes another— Then, I'm whisked away Not back to slumber, but of subtle thoughts Of Californian water Lapping up across our surfboards; I often wear them tides, The undertow As pull of greater waves I sit aside as all that passes [The Festival Project ™] When I see Calvin Klein, I think of you; Not what you used to be But turned in to So it's mutual— Pay attention, fool As does moss grow on a rock And this to you— It is unfortunate, my dear You miss with every twist, Adjustment of attention span, The glances I foreshadowed (Here you are, inside your past) It's just affective of the effect, You've been levitating, Yes, I find it devastating Every second kept is just a fortune But you pause before you post— You reap before you even think Of what you sow, You don't belong, Agast, (True) Set the tone, Classless, But I'm Art, you are a Daunting folk song, Mistletoe and marker. CAMERA ASSISTANT Marker. …what is this for again? CAMERA ASSISTANT (Annoyed, mumbling) Shut up. Ten minutes passes and still, I'm awake But the tragedy of the mistake has just set in, I'm sure I've been tortured, I'm paid in mistakes, but I'd rather be shattered with Mortimer's curse. To the tune of Ten by ten by ten I will never be lover, nor friend in the end. {Enter The Multiverse] DRAKE concentrates heavily on a very long , seemingly very angry message— a frowning face plastered as he writes that is so noteworthy, it catches the attention of many a passerby— still this focus unwatered, as he bashes heavily away at the text message with the thumbs of fury for over 30 minutes while sitting at a booth in a well-loved pancake restaurant. As a tall stack of pancakes is served before him, and he, still unbreaking this angry texting streak or eye contact with his phone sits before them, history is made in what internet culture has now deemed as “the most meme worthy face in history” The world wonders what he could possibly be writing— and more importantly—-who he could be texting. Tears come to his eyes but do not fall as he raises his thumb with reserve, to finally press [RETURN.] CUT TO: SUNNI BLU receives a text amidst a wild party. Almost without so much as a reaction, SUNNI BLU pings the message to a projector and cuts off the lights, and music. A VERY LONG, ANGRY TEXT is projected on the wall. I slept from 10-2 There was nothing else to do My name is Devin DeLouise And I am not supposed to know these things Seven are dead and three are left I know what's next I'm also often known as And referred to as coyote ugly; Suffering a tantra wall, Yo, you son of a bitch! You dirty, dirty son of a bitch. I must admit, I had a lot to do with this… I had no part in it! Relax… soon enough, the both of your realize— this is how the unimaginable gets written. [he loads the polished sterling silver pistol and glamours over it] You have our memory. —all memory. And as soon as it ends, before it can begin again. The slate is wiped clean. Good riddance. “A Different Kind of Monologue” Is this what you wanted? Ooh— you should try me! I wish you would try me! Try me! I wish you would. Be calm, Grand Master. This will all be over momentarily. What's going on. Deprivation chamber. Crypt? —Encrypted? A lockup. Ah. Thought so. That ought to show us what he's really made up. We can all hope. [he pounds on the glass, the one way mirror acts as a camera which the maj aresses, rabid and wi the anger of a dangerous animal, both we, n audience, and the small group of men gathered a the other side of the room. This could be the basis of a lot of lawsuits. So now I have your tears and agony A wilted throne and wand Which which would grant a wish of comedy, And therefore ever after, Not pain and guilt, but laughter So heavy is the hat that acts as crown, And so foolish is the King to think ‘imself as not one, Creaks the crow and also of the feathered guilt that follows, I Kept and bashful, wishing not the show as throne but sorrow, Kept to wick and wake and bones to shatter from tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Do you fear us? …do you wish to be feared? What of us? I seek to cause the wish that stands as though you may as granted. So shallow, fair child. And brother and my son also. Gross! Stop. You are weird! Dude, you are fucked. In the withdraw, my shadows and darkness Are there always, never resting Stories and gathered images, Visions of betrayal and archaic wants. In time, I've abandoned them all and betraying that which I've lost, For I know, and not ponder on That I shall never know love, As all standing tal over me Have eyes; And all I want Knows not what hides under my ugly. Alright. I followed your spiral, downward, and down wind and down wood, Into a place where I also aspired to show your mark Upon my rotted corpse or coarse crossifix; Sure worded and down trodden. Now, worse, I'm also sworn To mourn all my own losses, Kind folk. Kind hearted and now my eyes also sudden to wander— And there goes my miles and triumphs And morals and war songs, And sure, swallowed the barrel of a gun But also departed with honor, I tell I. Glimpses of wither and winter and whittling pain, And I slither my back to the center of All I am, in this, and shadows, Fairtails, And grains of rice and sand to twist away Into the rain as I lay dying. What a fortunate! Don't make my mark up and out, few for short times, Aye, conspire to warthog, Remember so force your spirit onto ours, And shake, sandbox! There aiming at you were the snakes of six liars, And the stakes of empires lost and won over, Also one solemn subtle Star of David Worn upon the neck of six monks, Ragtime Six popes, pass I; Six fathers and streaks solemn and Care tan teared salamander, Having weight and wake to cheer For our slaughter. Then, you, Having gained and also lost should reap to sow, What you'd have wanted; Though the tongue so convexed having way to guild your complex, Shaking as I hunger fruit that not but hangs Before l wanted I know, I could knot be consoled I know, I could not be consoled I know I could not be consolidated either Bought, or purchased I know I'm not consoled at all, I know I'm not confirmed at all I know, I know I'm not confronted, nor immortal — but your glorified affliction. Poor infinity. Of poverty, perhaps, but never poor at all. For your were warned of all the doors as opened at your calling. Not to walk though, But to ponder at them, wondering. he's gone Maybe I should go Too Heavy weight hanging on my Shoulders I'm just star struck I don't know You I don't really like saying What I go through Talk an hour, Fake it All day show Monologue Improvisation Now i'm on a roll, But my thoughts got darker I like adderall and a real smooth talker I like a husband-father , Doctor, Actor, Tall and handsome, Doesn't matter I'm alone, so i feel hopeless Aggie's gone, So i might as well go though Oh– She's gone ((I think i'm past my time)) I think i should go to She's gone (so long) Right on, man I might as well go to It's been a long time, Gotta turn my light off, Overtime, That's a long ball game Season's over; On my back in the middle of the ball court She's gone, So i might as well go too. 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 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.

We're back for another season and we kick off with Mr. Garrison saying goodbye to his balls, so that he may show off his fancy new vagina. Meanwhile, Kyle wants to become African-American in order to make the state basketball team.We also dive into how/why Parker seems to be "running out of ideas", Cartman's use of the word "titties", whether Mr. Slave deserved better and more.LISTEN on Spotify - spoti.fi/4fzFQbj LISTEN on Apple - apple.co/4fCJmBvWATCH on YouTube - bit.ly/southparkpodcastSupport the Four Finger Discount Network for EARLY & AD-FREE access to every show we produce, as well as 100 hours of exclusive content! Join the FFD family today at patreon.com/fourfingerdiscountCHECK OUT OUR OTHER PODCASTS:Four Finger Discount (Simpsons) - fourfingerdiscount.com.auThe Movie Guide with Leonard Maltin - themovieguidepodcast.comSpeaKing Of The Hill - spreaker.com/show/speaking-of-the-hill-a-king-of-the-hill-The One About Friends - spreaker.com/show/the-one-about-friends-podcastTalking Seinfeld - spreaker.com/show/talking-seinfeldSaturday Night Dive (SNL) - spreaker.com/podcast/saturday-night-dive-an-snl-podcastThe Office Talk - spreaker.com/show/the-office-talk-podcastGoin' Down To South Park is brought to you by The Four Finger Discount Network.

Episodio 8x04 de Cultura en Rojo y Blanco Esta semana nos visita Juan Antonio Cantelar para hablarnos de su nuevo libro, un artefacto tan feroz como divertido: ¿De qué equipo es Eric Cartman? Un ensayo que convierte a los personajes de South Park en hinchas del fútbol español y que disecciona, con sarcasmo y mala leche, el ecosistema del forofismo patrio. Filosofía, humor, narrativa, ironía… y un espejo donde todo aficionado —lo admita o no— acaba viéndose reflejado. ¿Qué pasaría si Cartman, Kyle, Stan, Kenny, Butters o Wendy vivieran en un pueblo de Castilla y discutieran en un bar sobre fútbol español? ¿Por qué Kyle sería del Athletic? ¿Por qué Cartman jamás podría ser del Atleti? ¿Y por qué Timmy no necesita el fútbol para ser libre? Bienvenidos a Villa Menor: la sátira futbolera definitiva. Cantelar nos lo cuenta todo… y nosotros nos reímos, nos picamos y pensamos. El libro ya está disponible en Amazon. ⚪ No te pierdas este episodio: fútbol, antropología, muñequitos y verdades incómodas. Perfecta combinación para Cultura en Rojo y Blanco.

After a Jackass-like stunt, Cartman ends up with severe head trauma that lands him a gig as a psychic, helping the police solve murders. A hilarious parody of the quirky TV cop dramas that Dando loves, combined with some steller movie references and we've got an all-time South Park episode.LISTEN on Spotify - spoti.fi/4fzFQbj LISTEN on Apple - apple.co/4fCJmBvWATCH on YouTube - bit.ly/southparkpodcastSupport the Four Finger Discount Network for EARLY & AD-FREE access to every show we produce, as well as 100 hours of exclusive content! Join the FFD family today at patreon.com/fourfingerdiscountCHECK OUT OUR OTHER PODCASTS:Four Finger Discount (Simpsons) - fourfingerdiscount.com.auThe Movie Guide with Leonard Maltin - themovieguidepodcast.comSpeaKing Of The Hill - spreaker.com/show/speaking-of-the-hill-a-king-of-the-hill-The One About Friends - spreaker.com/show/the-one-about-friends-podcastTalking Seinfeld - spreaker.com/show/talking-seinfeldSaturday Night Dive (SNL) - spreaker.com/podcast/saturday-night-dive-an-snl-podcastThe Office Talk - spreaker.com/show/the-office-talk-podcastGoin' Down To South Park is brought to you by The Four Finger Discount Network.

Eric Holmes unleashes Eric Cartman—South Park's dark prince of manipulation, unfiltered fury, and snack-fueled schemes.James Gavsie responds with Caillou—the deceptively resilient preschooler whose innocence, persistence, and boundless energy make him harder to stop than he looks.It's chaos versus naivety. Malice versus optimism. Could Cartman's cruelty crush Caillou's spirit, or will simplicity be Cartman's ultimate undoing?Listen now to find out....Who. Would. Win?Strap in—this is Who Would Win: UNLEASHED at its finest.Email - whowouldwinunleashed@gmail.comYou can now support us on Patreon at Patreon.com/WhoWouldWinShowCheck out the Who Would Win Unleashed YouTube Channel!Join our Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/whowouldwinshowFollow us on X/Twitter: @jamesgavsie @whowouldwinshowFollow us on IG and Threads: @WhoWouldWinShow @jamesgavsie @theericholmesCheck out the Who Would Win Merch Store:https://saywerd.co/collections/who-whould-win-merchSupport this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/who-would-win/donationsAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacyOur Sponsors:* Check out NordVPN: https://nordvpn.com/whowouldwinSupport this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/who-would-win/donationsAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

Kawa dla Matta: https://buycoffee.to/rapmattersPatronite: https://patronite.pl/brakkulturypodcasthorrypaz na Instagramie: https://www.instagram.com/horrypaz/Napiwek dla horrego: https://tipply.pl/@horrypazWspiera nas: https://bezafiszu.pl/SPIS TREŚCI: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1kjXqjA13Py7pTb_SUhFt_YhIeBLm02K4GhjI9sdxcOs/edit?gid=0#gid=0Dobre artykuły znajdziecie na: https://brakkultury.pl/Autor grafiki: https://www.instagram.com/man1eq/Oprawa graficzna: https://www.instagram.com/szarnowski/Intro: Michał Tomasik (Audiosynteza.pl)Grupa na FB: https://www.facebook.com/groups/RapMATTersPodcast/Fanpage: https://www.facebook.com/rapmatterspodcast/Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rapmatterspodcast/Twitter: https://twitter.com/MateuszOsiak_Discord BK: https://discord.gg/AsSk3Z68vt

Jon revisits the Jimmy Kimmel controversy, attacks on free speech, and the response to the TPUSA event in Minneapolis.

Primer programa de la 4rta temporada del pòdcast. Estrenem temporada des de Itnig amb Margarita Ponce, que és una actriu de doblatge que ha posat veu a personatges com el Cartman de South Park i també posa veu habitualment a la Meryl Streep. Esperem que gaudiu dels nous opening i ending, gentilesa de les @YounenkiMusic i també de les cortinetes entre seccions que ens han fet l'Estel Tort i Jordi Pineda (Veus de la Vados i Champa respectivament).

-"Oh mein Gott! Sie haben Kenny getötet! -"Ihr Schweine!!!" South Park, eine Serie, die schon seit Jahrzehnten alles und jeden durch den Kakao zieht. Kaum ein Thema ist vor Trey Parker und Matt Stone sicher, und genau deswegen lieben wir sie dafür. In dieser Folge reden Sephiz und BaconZack über die gesamte Serie: Welche Folgen sind unsere absoluten Highlights? Welche Episoden haben uns geprägt? Und ist South Park auch nach so vielen Jahren noch immer so verdammt relevant? Und wie genau war das jetzt mit dem riesigen Paramount+ Deal in den USA und warum hat das so viel damit zu tun, das South Park jetzt Donald Trump an den Pranger stellt? Also setzt euch mit uns ins Klassenzimmer von Stan, Kyle, Cartman und Kenny (aber nicht das Handtuch vergessen!) und vielleicht sagt ihr am Ende dieser Folge dann ja auch "heute habe ich wieder was gelernt..." Viel Spaß! gez. Die Lage der Nerdtion

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Gary discusses several news stories involving Charlie Kirk and Douglas Wilson. The Left is getting nervous and beginning to reveal its hand with these "red meat journalism" hit pieces. Thinking they are exposing crazy views by the Right, they are actually revealing their own insanity and illogical views. The presuppositional approach has that effect, as Greg Bahnsen showed years ago. Watch the CNN interview with Doug Wilson here.

“Thank God for South Park.” Words Matter is back for another weekly edition of political therapy with Dr. Norm Ornstein and David Rothkopf. Tune in as Norm and David discuss the current administration's attacks on education, their ever-increasing political abuses, and how South Park is doing a better job than the Democratic party at laying bare the horrors of this administration. Looking for More from the DSR Network? Click Here: https://linktr.ee/deepstateradio Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

“Thank God for South Park.” Words Matter is back for another weekly edition of political therapy with Dr. Norm Ornstein and David Rothkopf. Tune in as Norm and David discuss the current administration's attacks on education, their ever-increasing political abuses, and how South Park is doing a better job than the Democratic party at laying bare the horrors of this administration. Looking for More from the DSR Network? Click Here: https://linktr.ee/deepstateradio Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

“Thank God for South Park.” Words Matter is back for another weekly edition of political therapy with Dr. Norm Ornstein and David Rothkopf. Tune in as Norm and David discuss the current administration's attacks on education, their ever-increasing political abuses, and how South Park is doing a better job than the Democratic party at laying bare the horrors of this administration. Looking for More from the DSR Network? Click Here: https://linktr.ee/deepstateradio Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

"Connect with Us: Follow us for updates, bonus content, and discussions about all things South Park. On Facebook: @SouthParkPod On YouTube : @SouthParkPod On TikTok : @SouthParkPodOn Twitter: @SouthParkPodsOn Blue Sky: @smbsouthparkreview.bsky.social On Instagram: @SouthParkPodcastJoin our community of fans as we laugh, debate, and celebrate the genius of Trey Parker and Matt Stone's iconic creation. https://www.facebook.com/groups/spfanclubSubscribe and Support: Subscribe to SMB South Park Review Crew on your favorite podcast platform to never miss an episodeContact: Got a question, suggestion, or just want to share your thoughts on South Park? Reach out to us at suckmyballspod@gmail.co or visit us at linktr.ee/southparkpod

In case you missed it, Charlie is being featured on South Park, and Charlie walks through why it's a badge of honor, proving TPUSA's impact has cut through the popular culture. Senator Mike Lee also joins Charlie to call out any senators who are slacking on their duties to confirm Trump's picks. Watch every episode ad-free on members.charliekirk.com! Get new merch at charliekirkstore.com!Support the show: http://www.charliekirk.com/supportSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Tim, Phil, & Elaad are joined by Steve Cortes to discuss South Park mocking Charlie Kirk in newest episode, Stephen Colbert's insane temper tantrum in response to his show getting cancelled, Seth Meyers admitting Trump was right, and media claims that the NYC mass shooter was targeted NFL employees.   Hosts:  Tim @Timcast (everywhere) Phil @PhilThatRemains (X) Elaad @ElaadEliahu (X) Serge @SergeDotCom (everywhere) Guest: Steve Cortes @CortesSteve (X)

In case you missed it, Charlie is being featured on South Park, and Charlie walks through why it's a badge of honor, proving TPUSA's impact has cut through the popular culture. Senator Mike Lee also joins Charlie to call out any senators who are slacking on their duties to confirm Trump's picks. Watch every episode ad-free on members.charliekirk.com! Get new merch at charliekirkstore.com!Support the show: http://www.charliekirk.com/supportSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

We had an Awesom-O time reviewing this week's episode, which sees Cartman become Butters' new robot friend. Remarkably, this story is more relevant now than it was 20 years ago, as we see the entertainment industry rely more and more on the use of AI in the creative process.We also discuss Parker and Stone's love of Michael Bay cliches, Dando wetting the bed, the career of Adam Sandler and more.LISTEN on Spotify - spoti.fi/4fzFQbj LISTEN on Apple - apple.co/4fCJmBvWATCH on YouTube - bit.ly/southparkpodcastSupport the Four Finger Discount Network for EARLY & AD-FREE access to every show we produce, as well as 100 hours of exclusive content! Join the FFD family today at patreon.com/fourfingerdiscountCHECK OUT OUR OTHER PODCASTS:Four Finger Discount (Simpsons) - fourfingerdiscount.com.auThe Movie Guide with Leonard Maltin - themovieguidepodcast.comSpeaKing Of The Hill - spreaker.com/show/speaking-of-the-hill-a-king-of-the-hill-The One About Friends - spreaker.com/show/the-one-about-friends-podcastTalking Seinfeld - spreaker.com/show/talking-seinfeldSaturday Night Dive (SNL) - spreaker.com/podcast/saturday-night-dive-an-snl-podcastThe Office Talk - spreaker.com/show/the-office-talk-podcast

Send us a text This week we talk about Bubba Wallace winning the Brickyard 400, men mansplaining Indianapolis Motor Speedway, the week in celebrity deaths with Malcom Jamal Warner , Ozzy Osbourne , Chuck Mangione  and Hulk Hogan. We also get into the new documentary about Billy Joel on HBO, Jon Stewart , Happy Gilmore 2 and the epic takedown of the President on South Park. #AdamSandler #BillyJoel #WokeIsDead #BillyJoel #ShesAlwaysAWoman #HulkHogan #WWE #AndSoItGoes #OzzyOsbourne #TravisKelce #BadBunny #SouthPark #TheDailyShow #CBS #Paramount #CosbyShow #BubbaWallace #NASCAR #StephanColbert  Follow us at Reality Redemption on Facebook, Instagram, Threads, BlueSky and Tik Tok

South Park is back for Season 27 with “Sermon on the Mount,” a timely premiere that sees PC Principal turn uber religious when woke culture is declared dead and President Trump sues the town for protesting his decisions. Cartman faces another existential crisis, while Randy and the rest of the parents spearhead their outrage until an intervention by none other than Jesus. In this podcast, we unpack the episode's takedowns of Trump and Paramount, and share our favorite jokes (the deep-fake Trump PSA, the ChatGPT-wives, and the reveal of Satan's new lover).Welcome to Today's Episode!

Stargate. Het had hét project van de toekomst moeten zijn. Een AI-project van 500 miljard dollar, van SoftBank, OpenAI en de Amerikaanse regering. Er zou volgens president Trump 'gelijk' 100 miljard worden geïnvesteerd en er zouden 100.000 banen bijkomen.Je raadt het al. Dat is niet gebeurd. Sterker: Volgens The Wall Street Journal is er nog geen enkel datacenter gebouwd. SoftBank en OpenAI zouden ruzie met elkaar maken. Dat is slecht nieuws voor Trump, voor de Amerikaanse economie en voor aandelen. Welke, dat hoor je deze aflevering.Krijg je ook een update over de tarieven van Trump. Zijn onderhandelaar wil meer tijd om er met de Chinezen uit te komen. Ondertussen werken de Europeanen aan een tegenaanval.Deze aflevering stellen we een aantal slachtoffers aan je voor. Slachtoffers van Trump, allemaal op hun eigen manier. Om te beginnen met NXP. De chipmaker ziet al vijf kwartalen de omzet én winst dalen. En het leed is nog niet voorbij, want NXP denkt dat de omzet ook in dit kwartaal (in het derde kwartaal) afneemt.AkzoNobel kampt vooral met de zwakke dollar. Die raakt de winst van Akzo. De omzet die in dollars wordt gehaald, is minder waard in euro’s. General Motors spant echter de kroon. Dat wordt gigantisch geraakt door Trumps tarieven. Het kost ze ruim een miljard dollar, voor heel dit jaar denken ze aan 4 tot 5 miljard dollar. En het meest bizarre: ze gaan het niet doorberekenen aan klanten. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Movie of the Year: 1999South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut (feat. Nate Ragolia!)Why South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut Still MattersIn this hilariously unfiltered episode of Movie of the Year, the Taste Buds revisit the notorious 1999 film South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut. Blending satirical genius with musical chaos, the movie left a cultural impact, and the Taste Buds are here to explore how it still resonates 25 years later.With its fearless takedown of American censorship, over-the-top commentary on masculinity, and rare-for-its-time portrayal of homosexuality, South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut is more than just fart jokes and foul language. It's a surprisingly poignant time capsule of late-‘90s anxiety, and the Taste Buds break it all down.Censorship in South Park: Bigger, Longer, and UncutNo movie waged war with the MPAA quite like this one. The Taste Buds analyze how South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut skewers moral panic, parental outrage, and the hypocrisy of the film rating system. From the “R” rating controversy to the meta-commentary built into the plot, this section reveals why censorship is the film's true villain.Masculinity and War: Boys Being BoysSouth Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut builds its central conflict around immature boys triggering a global catastrophe. The Taste Buds examine how the film employs absurd humor to expose the fragility of masculinity and the toxic expectations society places on young men. Expect debate on whether Cartman is the id of American manhood—or just a chaotic neutral goblin.Homosexuality and Big Gay Al: A Queer SubtextIn a surprising turn for a 1999 mainstream animated movie, South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut includes a sympathetic queer character in Big Gay Al. The Taste Buds discuss the film's portrayal of homosexuality, including its satirical (yet sincere) celebration of queer identity. From Saddam and Satan's toxic romance to the hopeful notes of Big Gay Al's song, the film blends camp and commentary in unexpected ways.Guest Panelist: Nate Ragolia from Debut BuddiesSpecial guest Nate Ragolia, co-host of the movie podcast Debut Buddies, joins this episode with insightful takes and a deep appreciation for chaos. Nate helps the Taste Buds unpack why South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut still resonates today, from its musical theater references to its unflinching (and hilarious) view of American culture.Related Episodes You'll Love:The Iron Giant – 1999 Movie PodcastThe Green Mile – 1999 Movie PodcastThe Action Figures Draft – Movie of the YearFinal Thoughts: Revisiting South Park: Bigger, Longer, and UncutSouth Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut is more than a relic of juvenile rebellion—it's a cultural commentary wrapped in fart jokes and musical numbers. Whether you're a longtime fan or revisiting it for the first time, the Taste Buds' discussion offers new reasons to appreciate the film's satire, boldness, and weird emotional resonance.Stream the episode now and rediscover why South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut still punches up, punches through, and—occasionally—sings its way into our hearts.

"Connect with Us: Follow us for updates, bonus content, and discussions about all things South Park. On Facebook: @SouthParkPod On YouTube : @SouthParkPod On TikTok : @SouthParkPodOn Twitter: @SouthParkPodsOn Blue Sky: @smbsouthparkreview.bsky.social On Instagram: @SouthParkPodcastJoin our community of fans as we laugh, debate, and celebrate the genius of Trey Parker and Matt Stone's iconic creation. https://www.facebook.com/groups/spfanclubSubscribe and Support: Subscribe to SMB South Park Review Crew on your favorite podcast platform to never miss an episodeContact: Got a question, suggestion, or just want to share your thoughts on South Park? Reach out to us at suckmyballspod@gmail.co or visit us at linktr.ee/southparkpod

We rewatched "The Passion Of The Jew" 34 times and came to the conclusion that Mel Gibson is absolutely daffy! Well, that and Cartman is a despicable human being (but we already knew that). This episode is a fun little time capsule for those who lived through the release of Mel Gibson's record-setting film, along with the drama that came with it.We also discuss the episode's impact on Gibson's career, fake "shock" publicity, the best vegetables and more.Support the Four Finger Discount Network for EARLY & AD-FREE access to every show we produce, as well as 100 hours of exclusive content! Join the FFD family today at patreon.com/fourfingerdiscount27:30 - FAVOURITE MOMENTS32:00 - TRIVIA36:30 - CHEESY POOFSCHECK OUT OUR OTHER PODCASTS:Four Finger Discount (Simpsons) - fourfingerdiscount.com.auThe Movie Guide with Leonard Maltin - themovieguidepodcast.comSpeaKing Of The Hill - spreaker.com/show/speaking-of-the-hill-a-king-of-the-hill-The One About Friends - spreaker.com/show/the-one-about-friends-podcastTalking Seinfeld - spreaker.com/show/talking-seinfeldSaturday Night Dive (SNL) - spreaker.com/podcast/saturday-night-dive-an-snl-podcastThe Office Talk - spreaker.com/show/the-office-talk-podcast

Clark Cornsweat Kent. Bowling Correspondence School. Neighbors shooting their stuff into the night. Eating old eggs in the sun. Planet of the Shrewdness of the Apes. Cat Clowder Crowding the Chowdah. Who Freaked the Dogs out - who, who. Just like a Scott Returning to His Vomit. E. coli brand salad. Silica Gel in the Raw. Choking the Turtle. NIEDERMEYER!! Why Why the 5th of July? The place was Rio, and Scott didn't barf this time. Cartman is not a Role Model with Stephen and more on this episode of The Morning Stream. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Clark Cornsweat Kent. Bowling Correspondence School. Neighbors shooting their stuff into the night. Eating old eggs in the sun. Planet of the Shrewdness of the Apes. Cat Clowder Crowding the Chowdah. Who Freaked the Dogs out - who, who. Just like a Scott Returning to His Vomit. E. coli brand salad. Silica Gel in the Raw. Choking the Turtle. NIEDERMEYER!! Why Why the 5th of July? The place was Rio, and Scott didn't barf this time. Cartman is not a Role Model with Stephen and more on this episode of The Morning Stream. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

It's time to prepare for the Special Olympics with the help of some "performance enhancers", courtesy of our pal, Nathan! That's right, this week we review the one where Cartman literally pretends to be differently-abled in order to enter the Special Olympics. Meanwhile, Jimmy suffers roid rage after taking some steroids, much to the dismany of Timmy (and Nancy).We also discuss the legal dispute with the film "The Ringer", one of the darkest moments of the series (so far), as well as who exactly DOES understand Timmy?Support the Four Finger Discount Network for EARLY & AD-FREE access to every show we produce, as well as 100 hours of exclusive content! Join the FFD family today at patreon.com/fourfingerdiscount31:00- FAVOURITE MOMENTS39:00 - TRIVIA44:00 - CHEESY POOFSCHECK OUT OUR OTHER PODCASTS:Four Finger Discount (Simpsons) - fourfingerdiscount.com.auThe Movie Guide with Leonard Maltin - themovieguidepodcast.comSpeaKing Of The Hill - spreaker.com/show/speaking-of-the-hill-a-king-of-the-hill-The One About Friends - spreaker.com/show/the-one-about-friends-podcastTalking Seinfeld - spreaker.com/show/talking-seinfeldSaturday Night Dive (SNL) - spreaker.com/podcast/saturday-night-dive-an-snl-podcastThe Office Talk - spreaker.com/show/the-office-talk-podcast

"Connect with Us: Follow us for updates, bonus content, and discussions about all things South Park. On Facebook: @SouthParkPod On YouTube : @SouthParkPod On TikTok : @SouthParkPodOn Twitter: @SouthParkPodsOn Blue Sky: @smbsouthparkreview.bsky.social On Instagram: @SouthParkPodcastJoin our community of fans as we laugh, debate, and celebrate the genius of Trey Parker and Matt Stone's iconic creation. https://www.facebook.com/groups/spfanclubSubscribe and Support: Subscribe to SMB South Park Review Crew on your favorite podcast platform to never miss an episodeContact: Got a question, suggestion, or just want to share your thoughts on South Park? Reach out to us at suckmyballspod@gmail.co or visit us at linktr.ee/southparkpod

Confused by the daily deluge of medical studies in the news that are often built on faulty science, yet imply great harm to your health?Researcher, podcaster and former Army captain Alec Zeck joins Paul in a wide-ranging conversation about the serious lack of critical thinking and reasoning skills whenever science, health and medicine are discussed this week on Spirit Gym. Learn more about Alec and his work at The Way Forward website and on social media via Facebook, Twitter/X, YouTube and Instagram here and here.Listen to The Way Forward podcast on Apple Podcasts or wherever you download them. Watch The End of COVID series of videos here.Timestamps3:44 A meeting with Dr. Kelly Brogan changed the trajectory of Alec's family forever.7:32 We live in the necessary and purposeful appearance of duality.15:37 Do you believe in pantheism or panentheism?20:52 The fallacy of flood draws.28:24 Thinking and seeking truth by means of falsification.34:38 Who is the expert?46:11 What is real pseudoscience?51:26 Gain of function research.1:09:52 Epidemiological-based models are flawed to their core.1:22:05 The major problems with modern medicine.1:29:18 The human biofield.1:38:10 “Our body is the most incredible, beautiful, brilliant, intelligently designed thing that has ever existed in this realm.”1:51:41 The most important impact on a human being's psyche.2:03:47 Discerning facts from fiction.2:14:31 The Cartman drama triangle.ResourcesViroliegyA Farewell to Virology by Dr. Mark BaileyThe Neti neti principleFind more resources for this episode on our website.Music Credit: Meet Your Heroes (444Hz) by Brave as BearsAll Rights Reserved MusicFit Records 2024Thanks to our awesome sponsors:PaleovalleyBIOptimizers US and BIOptimizers UK PAUL10Organifi CHEK20Wild PasturesCHEK Institute Spring ATP SaleHerbal Alchemy WorkshopPaul's Preferred Products We may earn commissions from qualifying purchases using affiliate links.

Send us a textThings are about to get naughty, as Cartman's mom would say. We're talking South Park, and there really is no way to talk about this classic show cleanly. We focus on the first episode "Cartman gets an Anal Probe" and the highly rated episode  "Scott Tenorman Must Die" in our look back, but there is so much more. Grab some Cheesy Poofs and hit play.From Cartman to Stan to Kyle to Kenny to Butters, Timmy, Jimmy, Chef and more, South Park is inhabited by a fantastic cast of characters. We close things out by drafting out favorites. Did you hit play yet? Do it now. Respect our authori-TIE!If you enjoy the show, please rate and review us on the iTunes/Apple Podcasts app or wherever you listen. Or better yet, tell a friend to listen!Want to support our show and become a PCY Classmate? Click here!Follow us on your preferred social media:TwitterFacebookInstagramSupport the show

Send us a textThings are about to get naughty, as Cartman's mom would say. We're talking South Park, and there really is no way to talk about this classic show cleanly. We focus on the first episode "Cartman gets an Anal Probe" and the highly rated episode  "Scott Tenorman Must Die" in our look back, but there is so much more. Grab some Cheesy Poofs and hit play.From Cartman to Stan to Kyle to Kenny to Butters, Timmy, Jimmy, Chef and more, South Park is inhabited by a fantastic cast of characters. We close things out by drafting out favorites. Did you hit play yet? Do it now. Respect our authori-TIE!If you enjoy the show, please rate and review us on the iTunes/Apple Podcasts app or wherever you listen. Or better yet, tell a friend to listen!Want to support our show and become a PCY Classmate? Click here!Follow us on your preferred social media:TwitterFacebookInstagramSupport the show

Tyrus even has a plot figured out, but could it be a part of South Park cannon, or have they already revealed Cartman's dad? We discuss this, and Jake Tapper's book.

According to Pew Research Center, 55% of U.S. parents report being extremely or very concerned about the mental health of teens today. And several factors are driving that concern: increased influence of technology and social media, lingering effects of the pandemic, and social pressures like extracurricular activities and academic performance. Substance use is also linked with mental health and is occurring at younger ages with a rise in youth overdoses.  Mental health wellness and prevention programs from previous generations, some of which are still used today, have been ineffective or even counterproductive. So, what strategies actually work? In this episode of “After the Fact,” psychologists Obari Adéye Cartman and Sharon Hoover, as well as Pew's Jessica Roark, discuss how to improve youth mental health programs and address substance use.   If you or someone you know needs help with substance use, visit www.findtreatment.gov.

Black Bart's Cave! Cliff divers! Sopapillas You'll get all that and more as we review the all-timer 'Casa Bonita', which sees Cartman kidnap Butters as a ploy to secure the last invitation to Kyle's birthday party.We discuss the insane history of the real-life restaurant and how Parker and Stone eventually purchased it (including reading some hilarious online reviews from customers), the appeal of "themed" restaurants, the way Butters is being used more effectively in recent episodes, whether or not it's ok to laugh at Jimmy, the potential for a South Park disaster movie parody and more.Support the Four Finger Discount Network for EARLY & AD-FREE access to every show we produce, as well as 100 hours of exclusive content! Join the FFD family today at patreon.com/fourfingerdiscountCHAPTERS:3:16 - What is the A-plot?6:33 - The appeal of "themed" restaurants15:39 - Planet Hollywood in Australia memories24:38 - Reading negative Casa Bonita reviews28:08 - Visiting pop-culture landmarks in New York31:47 - McDonald's birthday parties32:36 - The history of Casa Bonita38:42 - The perfect level of "evil" Cartman39:37 - Not being invited to birthday parties42:30 - Guy name-dropping his Dad at a party46:10 - Cartman isn't used to not getting his way47:10 - Butters is being used more effectively52:12 - Cartman's "doomsday" story57:21 - FAVOURITE MOMENTS59:21 - TRIVIA01:02:35 - CHEESY POOF SHOUT OUTS01:04:04 - FULL EPISODE RUN THOUGH BEGINS01:06:30 - A South Park "disaster film" parody01:13:00 - Jimmy and Timmy have been scaled back01:15:47 - Is it ok to laugh at Jimmy?01:21:02 - Cartman fools Kyle at the lockers01:27:37 - Cartman takes Butters to the bomb shelter01:30:41 - Butters first name reveal01:32:30 - Who is Cartman's best friend?01:37:23 - "Fairy Park" is our version of "Casa Bonita"CHECK OUT OUR OTHER PODCASTS:Four Finger Discount (Simpsons) - fourfingerdiscount.com.auThe Movie Guide with Leonard Maltin - themovieguidepodcast.comToon'd In! with Jim Cummings - spreaker.com/show/toond-in-with-jim-cummingsSpeaKing Of The Hill - spreaker.com/show/speaking-of-the-hill-a-king-of-the-hill-The One About Friends - spreaker.com/show/the-one-about-friends-podcastTalking Seinfeld - spreaker.com/show/talking-seinfeldThe Office Talk - spreaker.com/show/the-office-talk-podcast

If you don't like this podcast, well then you can GET OUT! Another classic episode that sees South Park divided over the war on Iraq, whilst Cartman travels back in time to meet the Founding Fathers.We also discuss the timeless "United States Of Whatever", Trey Parker's singing ability and Snoop at a Trump party.Support the Four Finger Discount Network for EARLY & AD-FREE access to every show we produce, as well as 100 hours of exclusive content! Join the FFD family today at patreon.com/fourfingerdiscountCHECK OUT OUR OTHER PODCASTS:Toon'd In! with Jim Cummings - spreaker.com/show/toond-in-with-jim-cummingsThe Movie Guide with Leonard Maltin - themovieguidepodcast.comSpeaKing Of The Hill - spreaker.com/show/speaking-of-the-hill-a-king-of-the-hill-The One About Friends - spreaker.com/show/the-one-about-friends-podcastTalking Seinfeld - spreaker.com/show/talking-seinfeldThe Office Talk - spreaker.com/show/the-office-talk-podcast

The boys think they're looking at some hard time after being accused of TP-ing their teacher's house, which they did. Cartman must go to great lengths to prevent the truth from coming out, meanwhile Officer Barbrady enlists the help of Josh Myers.We also discuss our memories of ceramics class, the lack of dinosaurs in Jurassic Park and our favourite Hannibal Lecter moments.Support the Four Finger Discount Network for EARLY & AD-FREE access to every show we produce, as well as 100 hours of exclusive content! Join the FFD family today at patreon.com/fourfingerdiscountCHECK OUT OUR OTHER PODCASTS:Toon'd In! with Jim Cummings - spreaker.com/show/toond-in-with-jim-cummingsThe Movie Guide with Leonard Maltin - themovieguidepodcast.comSpeaKing Of The Hill - spreaker.com/show/speaking-of-the-hill-a-king-of-the-hill-The One About Friends - spreaker.com/show/the-one-about-friends-podcastTalking Seinfeld - spreaker.com/show/talking-seinfeldThe Office Talk - spreaker.com/show/the-office-talk-podcast

Rob Schneider IS a podcast review. Now THIS is peak South Park. An absolute (much-deserved) drive-by at John Edward's expense and we are all in. Meanwhile, Cartman pays a visit to Chef's parents in order to have Kenny's soul exorcised from his body.Support the Four Finger Discount Network for EARLY & AD-FREE access to every show we produce, as well as 100 hours of exclusive content! Join the FFD family today at patreon.com/fourfingerdiscountCHECK OUT OUR OTHER PODCASTS:Toon'd In! with Jim Cummings - spreaker.com/show/toond-in-with-jim-cummingsThe Movie Guide with Leonard Maltin - themovieguidepodcast.comSpeaKing Of The Hill - spreaker.com/show/speaking-of-the-hill-a-king-of-the-hill-The One About Friends - spreaker.com/show/the-one-about-friends-podcastTalking Seinfeld - spreaker.com/show/talking-seinfeldThe Office Talk - spreaker.com/show/the-office-talk-podcast

Avec Christophe Barbier, AZ, Cartman, Isabelle Mergault, Jeanfi Janssens et Paul El Kharrat. Retrouvez tous les jours le meilleur des Grosses Têtes en podcast sur RTL.fr et l'application RTL.

À la fin de chaque émission, retrouvez en exclusivité sur les plateformes de podcast le débrief des 2h30 d'antenne qui viennent de s'écouler, en compagnie d'une des Grosses Têtes du jour... Ce 10 décembre 2024, Jeanfi Janssens s'est confié au micro de Rachel Azria. Retrouvez tous les jours le meilleur des Grosses Têtes en podcast sur RTL.fr et l'application RTL.

Ce 10 décembre, Cartman rejoignait la bande des Grosses Têtes de Laurent Ruquier ! L'animateur avait déjà travaillé avec quelques sociétaires, notamment Christophe Barbier... Retrouvez tous les jours le meilleur des Grosses Têtes en podcast sur RTL.fr et l'application RTL.

10 months on the waitlist, and well worth it! Casa Bonita is the definition of a dining "experience" with its hodgepodge collection of oddball acts and entertainment, but is it worth flying out of state to grab dinner? I break down this kitschy paradise with my guest, the hilarious Ify Nwadiwe (Dropout TV, Um Actually, Maximum Film) in this week's review episode! The Good: Cliff divers are tremendous fun, the puppet show is expertly entertaining, the magician is a pro, the merch is unrivaled, the food is way better than its reputation would have you believe, a Love Tester machine tells me I'm "burning" with passion, and much more! The Not Good: Manbearpigrilla's handler snubbed us out of a photo op, there's too much to do in one visit, the service pace is overwhelmingly fast, a food assembly line, and there's a lack of clarity on the best way to experience the show The Just There: Rice & beans were whatever What We Ate: Horchata, the Wooly Bully, Chips & Salsa, Mole, Carnitas, Rice, Beans, Enchiladas, & Sopaipillas Ify details his worst & best restaurant experiences in The Calibration Station The second highest score in the history of the podcast! "Fine" Dining is now on video! Head on over to my YouTube to watch this episode! Music by: James McEnelly (@Ramshackle_Music) Theme Song by: Gabe Alvarez (@spooky.gabe) Segment Transitions Voiced by: Sandy Rose "Fine" Dining is on Patreon! Get an extra episode every month (My October Patreon exclusive episode about Mr. Chow came out on Halloween! Go check out the episode about a place that is expensive for expensive's sake), extended Yelp from Strangers segments every other week, merch discounts, download access to our music including the 7 singles from our Olive Garden musical, and more! Patreon Producers: Joyce Van, & Sue Ornelas   Get the 5 Survival Tips for Casual Dining at www.finediningpodcast.com!   Send in your Casa Bonita stories at finediningpodcast@gmail.com.   Follow the show on TikTok and Instagram @finediningpodcast Follow Ify on Instagram @ifynwadiwe   Let me know where I should go next by leaving us a review on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Amazon Music, PodcastAddict, Overcast, or wherever you get your podcasts. I read every one!   Next week on "Fine" Dining: The History of Dining at Strip Clubs! Adult film star Ryan Keely and her I Seduce The Dragon podcast costar Dana Scarborough join me to learn about the development of strip clubs as restaurants, and dive into a few Yelp reviews that are all over the place. Ever work at a strip club buffet? Send your stories to finediningpodcast@gmail.com.

Hugh Jackman & Sutton Foster?! Celine & Adele?! Lizzo & Cartman?! Dom, Chris, & JLO?! The Pre-Fixe is BRIMMING with interesting pairings this week. Then, Host of Smart Podcast, Trashy Books Sarah Wendell joins to discuss Olivia Wilde while donning a necklace that could rival Dominick's Heart of the Ocean. They discuss Olivia's rise to fame, her acting turned-directing career, the drama surrounding Don't Worry Darling, and her salad dressing recipes.You can find Sarah's podcast Smart Podcast, Trashy Books here!You can find Dom at dommentary.com.You can find Chris at @thechrisderosa.Follow the show at @fixingfamouspeople.Subscribe to the Patreon Fixing Bonus People here.Or Subscribe to A La Carte Episodes in the Apple Podcast App.Write a review and let us know who you want us to fix!See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.