Podcasts about creeping

I had to hsve still believed in magic to some degree, because in all of the applicable ways it made sense, I applied it— much with reverence and spirituality such is religion, all of my ritual occultation was indeed still based in the science of source, as to say that God itself was all the major diety I needed to call upon, in prayer and in this thought process. I was more in alignment with this definition of divinity than with any given science or religion, or rather an antithesis of either, because as it seemed the walls would draw in on one or another, I found myself and my God at the center of all things, both dark and light— encompassing both the greatness of what was as known, and also not— the words and words seeming to pour from me like another space in time was held inside myself and beyond what even I could have understood. I couldn't force my artwork, and even knowing that I was slipping between the cracks as far as deadlines were concerned I was wreaking havoc in another realm of artistic torture— knowing what I already had, but could not possibly forage or put out— my unplublished works a daunting reminder of what was about me, but was not known. Then again, as an artist, I wondered had I any purpose at all in being known, or was it just some kind of harsh injustice to my own talent that I would hide in the shadows while I presumed some other alias or moniker would take the spotlight, and especially so for some of my more controversial tones and pieces. Overall, I was devastated that these two years just as any other period in my life seemed just to be a fight against whatever the opposite of God was and my own absence from this light I with desperation called upon over and over— with the knowing well that in time and never my own that it did work, and that this magic and occult was a real substance, but never in the way that I might think or understand, and most certainly not under the guise of any rules of expectation. I was a flying saucer in the vast expanse of outer known time, and my own body was something like a waking memory of sliver for all that was and all I had done and could do in conciousness. In that aspect, I was not awake, and only dreaming in a way that was personified by my self in the physical realm where I seemed to be having some kind of shattered montage of a life awakened from a death sleep and into the afterlife of an only somewhat waking world— the twisted bodies surrounding none less than the half capacity I'd ever had to congulate an imaged world in my own fortune, and I was sure otherwise I was half braindead or some partial version of a somewhat paralyzed and seemingly unconscious drone of one world or another, my inner essence escaping for freedom and in the silent darkness screaming up to the gathered surface to please pull the plug— to let me pass on, and to go into the world of fortune; under the circumstances it appeared as if the darkness was always grasping at its chance to imprison even this of what was left, along the lines of gratitude I felt shattered but also honored; whatever I was had also kept itself tied to these words and these colorful arts as a hidden sign that there was a truth in this previous life that had went unsaid. And so magic it was as it pertained to God because I believed in both or as one as another or one in the same. I am, dog on a leash I am heart full of love I am all out of time I am all out of home I couldn't make any sense of what seemed to be some kind of telepathic connection with the host of the tonight show, which I kept at a safe enough and respectable distance, but perhaps maybe it was telemetry. Perhaps somehow my strange frequency was intercepting with a broadcast signal, or a radio tower, or perhaps it was the show itself— as I called it, the ghost of Johnny Carson. Overall I hadn't meant for it to happen, but it did seem to always kind of rather by accident happen— my strange dreams of all the people coming together for the 50th anniversary of Saturday night live, and though for some or whatever reason thinking it would stop, but it hadn't, and in fact rumbling thoughts of mark wahlberg and some of the other recent guests could not have been a coincidence, nor could have been what seemed at the time Robert Dinero or any of the others who had been blooming in my mind in the weeks leading up to the event and I couldn't have considered it any more after being unable to focus on anything besides what seemed to have been a protruding vein from the poor man's forehead, which for myself had made me promise not to look at all too closely— Then, here it was nearly a year later and I couldn't do anything but momentarily curse aloud and pause in the thought of not letting myself go north of where I was in my media calling; even in the modern world of horrid things one human being does to another, under no circumstances whatsoever could I continue l to belittle and downplay my own self respect, especially in the grips of something that felt like a more rising sense of urgency than ever— I hadn't had sex in year with anyone, and there were very few things I actually wanted. I was increasingly picky to my own demise, and increasingly delusional, and vulnarable in such a sense that anything I knew I wanted, I also knew to respect myself enough to stay far away from. Not so much the double edged sword was this than simply knowing better— the other hosts and almost all the world were safe— this was not. I kept it out of the news And out of my head For awhile now; I kept it out of the noose As far as my head is concerned But after awhile, when I started to smile It was thinking of you; Now more than ever I've got more than nothing to lose. I'm a straight jacket away from an Oscar And eight days from my triumph I called also the Ace of the Spades, The Club and the Diamond I'm tipping my hat to your making But playing for tips And paying for service I've got more than four words But the forward was barely a dollar. I'm rarely a savage, But also, your honor I give not a gasp but a grasping at petals And strings of a flower The rock to a kite And a wind in the forager, So much beyond what I know is unmasked In my country not home But a foreigner CHAOS It took me two times to find you out.. It's not my fault, I'm not the one. CHAOS And still, you saw what God I was. The god of Chaos, not my love. You are not my king! “Not my king” he says I— And yet am king; A king of kind; The king of thieves! And you, my grace? Caring verily fir your thanks And what if my remarks? The careless woman! And of swords. Adeiu. But still untied I gallop! (Turning) And yet I stay. To careless words. A triumph. Not to mark my time to dust As there to wait in forests wonder, Catching, maybe, as you were But still my tied to bark an order To what! Your making. My kind! And gathered. The wake to drift the call to forward, And coming in the mark I gathered Your ties be mind, And yet the waiting shadows foraged (And also in the art I bathe) Several other ballads pondered To mine ties, your art my word Your thought my song, And wind my fortune And so you are, then my kite! I am both what kite and wind you may; But what of stone and rock? [suddenly, in modern tongue] I'm glad you asked. CUT TO: CONAN O BRIEN wakes up suddenly in his pleated blue pajamas from what seems like a very deep sleep. CONAN Surfing? I think I will go surfing. He gets out of bed and stares out of the window at the sunrise; it is a picturesque Californian day. {Enter the multiverse} I guess any time I try to terminate my state of being, I am annihilated You're really right; this is a death curse You're really right, this is a death curse Any time I try to find my way out, I am exiled You're right, this is a time bomb You're right, I've got my eyes closed Are there any intimate conclusions? Are there any derelictions, or delusions? And redactions or delirium, any infinity? Any fear at all? I hear you now I all bleed blue I'm born to suffer Stuff the earplugs in a little deeper little longer, Then we all get caught in martyrdom Or someone else's story Ooh, you started it Not now, God! He was born and gone in such an instant That I bark to love him First as dog and then as servant Other Master is absolved and yet absorbent I get caught in my own foul ball I have missed for trains Just decided to cast you all out The demons wandered Just like they wanted The snake still slithered, The owl still called I was also cosmic once Just I just forgot I was never pardoned Oh who are I I smell howling. Hogties withered out ones, Wondered weathered swallows When I see Whether or not You tip your hat to my making— The ball rolls, The owl cries, The harp sings, The hare runs, The mark, my cause. I am your forager. Then, gripping in the wakes The calls that bantered Not here or owl, I Not dog or rabbit, No wake and no fortune You are to run Or lest be tortured You are our call No, for what They says have ceased and the harp has stung sound, Not one but two sour notes aching, And there I bartered with all but nothing that I had To love, the power Then angst in me mine soul and my ties, My ways were na'er seek but shattered also I lake in lessons and drift in oceans and drown in all our skies, azure and lavender, Creeping in the cape that is both overshadowed our, I Gripping in the ways seeks foreign to none and also listened in your foyer Waking not as ghosts but yet as haunted Here tith thee my tide and I bade farewell And fate he they to keep our half tide I am hiding in your wakes and in my foreign I am forgotten and also withered, gathered! I am decrcrepit and unloved kept secret I am as shamed and as unwell as all our sick and tired Poor and outside I am as outside as the grass and trees have slaughtered I am as ancient as before the oceans tide did bring, my kind did watch your light come for us out of darkness And into my shores of only oceans you not know, My thoughts be born into your shadows And my own making is your honor Whatever that means This Is creepy. You're right! Fly bird! Fly! Uh. Did you bring a bird with you into the office. Kind of Kind of? Yes or no? I think of him fondly I killed myself on his birthday he didn't even want me But luckily it's also Obama's Birthday, that is I was not hot enough To this day I want another body Aftermarket Parts With happy accidents {enter the multiverse} Kind of! What does that even mean! Bird, go away! It means “kind of!” He follows me everywhere. What! Thais ridiculous. It is. Ridiculous! See, I've got to figure this out, because it seems like, indirectly, sometimes the weird and random things going on in my head, are at least very partially Actually [nevermind] This makes whatever I'm supposed to do increasingly difficult, on the basis that [Ahem] SNL alumni that [uncontrollable fit of hysterical coughing] ago. I can't understand what I might have done to deserve this kind of torture— My own accidental muses have all been [birds, at some point or another], Untouchable, entirely separate other monsters, and I've often thought that perhaps this is my kind of purgatory; Because I fell so insensibly and head over heels in love before and was still rampantly tortured and undermined, I was unwilling to see myself in any sort of attainable situation, And so everything had become some sort of fantastical delusion— Or perhaps even a hope that I could at the very least Become something greater; in that understanding the factors that were determining the outcomes of these other peoples lives I for whatever reason seemed to be magnetized to, I could emulate myself into a situation where none of it any longer mattered. Still, it was some sort of strange fascination that anytime someone seemingly out of place appeared somewhere in my dreams or in my rampant and running thoughts, they just so happened to be hovering somewhere near this [concept], and while it seemed some sort of intriguing, it was also deeply troubling, and dangerous, and wore on my consciousness in ways I could not consider well at all, or forward thinking Discussing this sort of feelings would simply mean a diagnosis of some sort of delusions, but without the risk of doing that far, I could simply only attribute it to some sort of spiritual purpose, which at the very least in the safest way, was most probably one sided. I was just a troubled girl in a lot of pain, and somehow my brain was wrapping itself around a way to manage this constant sort of torture. Oh this is so much funnier with the [redactions] Agreed. It was different, maybe, not because it sounded different. It sounded the same, exactly. But the difference was, I was listening as a producer, and not as some girl that was in love with him. Or— thought she was. Now I didn't think anything much besides how well it would mash with any of my other favorite songs, by my other favorite artists— or how it was mixed just right and how some sounds hit in the head, and some in the top and how I knew how to do that, but I was kind of lazy. I thought about the glue that held everything together, which is what pissed me off about his music— sounds that didn't come apart and made entirely new sounds together from whatever they once were, because they were so meticulously plastered that way. This kind of engineering gave way to perfectly round spheres elsewhere, or perhaps even the kind of colors in other music but wasn't so much any one thing or another here. Perhaps the point was, that at the time, it was sort of abstract in a way that set a new norm. Now everyone sounded like him— besides him: who could say who he really was presently anyway, besides him, if even that— or the people around him; a constantly changing array of whatever's…things and persons I'd stopped being mad about ages ago. At least, sort of. I was still kind of mad, but more that I still just paled in comparison, and almost that I'd lost total interest, besides learning this: what I could apply to it now, knowing what I knew, but still might never possibly achieve, not at this point anymore because I couldn't..:but perhaps because I didn't want to. And it really was great— eight or ten or twelve Grammies great, but I was just kind of— not that. Not the way I used to be. Still, I gave myself the benefit of the doubt. [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] -Ū. Death of A Superstar DJ Copyright athe Complex Collective © 2025 All Rights Reserved.

I had to hsve still believed in magic to some degree, because in all of the applicable ways it made sense, I applied it— much with reverence and spirituality such is religion, all of my ritual occultation was indeed still based in the science of source, as to say that God itself was all the major diety I needed to call upon, in prayer and in this thought process. I was more in alignment with this definition of divinity than with any given science or religion, or rather an antithesis of either, because as it seemed the walls would draw in on one or another, I found myself and my God at the center of all things, both dark and light— encompassing both the greatness of what was as known, and also not— the words and words seeming to pour from me like another space in time was held inside myself and beyond what even I could have understood. I couldn't force my artwork, and even knowing that I was slipping between the cracks as far as deadlines were concerned I was wreaking havoc in another realm of artistic torture— knowing what I already had, but could not possibly forage or put out— my unplublished works a daunting reminder of what was about me, but was not known. Then again, as an artist, I wondered had I any purpose at all in being known, or was it just some kind of harsh injustice to my own talent that I would hide in the shadows while I presumed some other alias or moniker would take the spotlight, and especially so for some of my more controversial tones and pieces. Overall, I was devastated that these two years just as any other period in my life seemed just to be a fight against whatever the opposite of God was and my own absence from this light I with desperation called upon over and over— with the knowing well that in time and never my own that it did work, and that this magic and occult was a real substance, but never in the way that I might think or understand, and most certainly not under the guise of any rules of expectation. I was a flying saucer in the vast expanse of outer known time, and my own body was something like a waking memory of sliver for all that was and all I had done and could do in conciousness. In that aspect, I was not awake, and only dreaming in a way that was personified by my self in the physical realm where I seemed to be having some kind of shattered montage of a life awakened from a death sleep and into the afterlife of an only somewhat waking world— the twisted bodies surrounding none less than the half capacity I'd ever had to congulate an imaged world in my own fortune, and I was sure otherwise I was half braindead or some partial version of a somewhat paralyzed and seemingly unconscious drone of one world or another, my inner essence escaping for freedom and in the silent darkness screaming up to the gathered surface to please pull the plug— to let me pass on, and to go into the world of fortune; under the circumstances it appeared as if the darkness was always grasping at its chance to imprison even this of what was left, along the lines of gratitude I felt shattered but also honored; whatever I was had also kept itself tied to these words and these colorful arts as a hidden sign that there was a truth in this previous life that had went unsaid. And so magic it was as it pertained to God because I believed in both or as one as another or one in the same. I am, dog on a leash I am heart full of love I am all out of time I am all out of home I couldn't make any sense of what seemed to be some kind of telepathic connection with the host of the tonight show, which I kept at a safe enough and respectable distance, but perhaps maybe it was telemetry. Perhaps somehow my strange frequency was intercepting with a broadcast signal, or a radio tower, or perhaps it was the show itself— as I called it, the ghost of Johnny Carson. Overall I hadn't meant for it to happen, but it did seem to always kind of rather by accident happen— my strange dreams of all the people coming together for the 50th anniversary of Saturday night live, and though for some or whatever reason thinking it would stop, but it hadn't, and in fact rumbling thoughts of mark wahlberg and some of the other recent guests could not have been a coincidence, nor could have been what seemed at the time Robert Dinero or any of the others who had been blooming in my mind in the weeks leading up to the event and I couldn't have considered it any more after being unable to focus on anything besides what seemed to have been a protruding vein from the poor man's forehead, which for myself had made me promise not to look at all too closely— Then, here it was nearly a year later and I couldn't do anything but momentarily curse aloud and pause in the thought of not letting myself go north of where I was in my media calling; even in the modern world of horrid things one human being does to another, under no circumstances whatsoever could I continue l to belittle and downplay my own self respect, especially in the grips of something that felt like a more rising sense of urgency than ever— I hadn't had sex in year with anyone, and there were very few things I actually wanted. I was increasingly picky to my own demise, and increasingly delusional, and vulnarable in such a sense that anything I knew I wanted, I also knew to respect myself enough to stay far away from. Not so much the double edged sword was this than simply knowing better— the other hosts and almost all the world were safe— this was not. I kept it out of the news And out of my head For awhile now; I kept it out of the noose As far as my head is concerned But after awhile, when I started to smile It was thinking of you; Now more than ever I've got more than nothing to lose. I'm a straight jacket away from an Oscar And eight days from my triumph I called also the Ace of the Spades, The Club and the Diamond I'm tipping my hat to your making But playing for tips And paying for service I've got more than four words But the forward was barely a dollar. I'm rarely a savage, But also, your honor I give not a gasp but a grasping at petals And strings of a flower The rock to a kite And a wind in the forager, So much beyond what I know is unmasked In my country not home But a foreigner CHAOS It took me two times to find you out.. It's not my fault, I'm not the one. CHAOS And still, you saw what God I was. The god of Chaos, not my love. You are not my king! “Not my king” he says I— And yet am king; A king of kind; The king of thieves! And you, my grace? Caring verily fir your thanks And what if my remarks? The careless woman! And of swords. Adeiu. But still untied I gallop! (Turning) And yet I stay. To careless words. A triumph. Not to mark my time to dust As there to wait in forests wonder, Catching, maybe, as you were But still my tied to bark an order To what! Your making. My kind! And gathered. The wake to drift the call to forward, And coming in the mark I gathered Your ties be mind, And yet the waiting shadows foraged (And also in the art I bathe) Several other ballads pondered To mine ties, your art my word Your thought my song, And wind my fortune And so you are, then my kite! I am both what kite and wind you may; But what of stone and rock? [suddenly, in modern tongue] I'm glad you asked. CUT TO: CONAN O BRIEN wakes up suddenly in his pleated blue pajamas from what seems like a very deep sleep. CONAN Surfing? I think I will go surfing. He gets out of bed and stares out of the window at the sunrise; it is a picturesque Californian day. {Enter the multiverse} I guess any time I try to terminate my state of being, I am annihilated You're really right; this is a death curse You're really right, this is a death curse Any time I try to find my way out, I am exiled You're right, this is a time bomb You're right, I've got my eyes closed Are there any intimate conclusions? Are there any derelictions, or delusions? And redactions or delirium, any infinity? Any fear at all? I hear you now I all bleed blue I'm born to suffer Stuff the earplugs in a little deeper little longer, Then we all get caught in martyrdom Or someone else's story Ooh, you started it Not now, God! He was born and gone in such an instant That I bark to love him First as dog and then as servant Other Master is absolved and yet absorbent I get caught in my own foul ball I have missed for trains Just decided to cast you all out The demons wandered Just like they wanted The snake still slithered, The owl still called I was also cosmic once Just I just forgot I was never pardoned Oh who are I I smell howling. Hogties withered out ones, Wondered weathered swallows When I see Whether or not You tip your hat to my making— The ball rolls, The owl cries, The harp sings, The hare runs, The mark, my cause. I am your forager. Then, gripping in the wakes The calls that bantered Not here or owl, I Not dog or rabbit, No wake and no fortune You are to run Or lest be tortured You are our call No, for what They says have ceased and the harp has stung sound, Not one but two sour notes aching, And there I bartered with all but nothing that I had To love, the power Then angst in me mine soul and my ties, My ways were na'er seek but shattered also I lake in lessons and drift in oceans and drown in all our skies, azure and lavender, Creeping in the cape that is both overshadowed our, I Gripping in the ways seeks foreign to none and also listened in your foyer Waking not as ghosts but yet as haunted Here tith thee my tide and I bade farewell And fate he they to keep our half tide I am hiding in your wakes and in my foreign I am forgotten and also withered, gathered! I am decrcrepit and unloved kept secret I am as shamed and as unwell as all our sick and tired Poor and outside I am as outside as the grass and trees have slaughtered I am as ancient as before the oceans tide did bring, my kind did watch your light come for us out of darkness And into my shores of only oceans you not know, My thoughts be born into your shadows And my own making is your honor Whatever that means This Is creepy. You're right! Fly bird! Fly! Uh. Did you bring a bird with you into the office. Kind of Kind of? Yes or no? I think of him fondly I killed myself on his birthday he didn't even want me But luckily it's also Obama's Birthday, that is I was not hot enough To this day I want another body Aftermarket Parts With happy accidents {enter the multiverse} Kind of! What does that even mean! Bird, go away! It means “kind of!” He follows me everywhere. What! Thais ridiculous. It is. Ridiculous! See, I've got to figure this out, because it seems like, indirectly, sometimes the weird and random things going on in my head, are at least very partially Actually [nevermind] This makes whatever I'm supposed to do increasingly difficult, on the basis that [Ahem] SNL alumni that [uncontrollable fit of hysterical coughing] ago. I can't understand what I might have done to deserve this kind of torture— My own accidental muses have all been [birds, at some point or another], Untouchable, entirely separate other monsters, and I've often thought that perhaps this is my kind of purgatory; Because I fell so insensibly and head over heels in love before and was still rampantly tortured and undermined, I was unwilling to see myself in any sort of attainable situation, And so everything had become some sort of fantastical delusion— Or perhaps even a hope that I could at the very least Become something greater; in that understanding the factors that were determining the outcomes of these other peoples lives I for whatever reason seemed to be magnetized to, I could emulate myself into a situation where none of it any longer mattered. Still, it was some sort of strange fascination that anytime someone seemingly out of place appeared somewhere in my dreams or in my rampant and running thoughts, they just so happened to be hovering somewhere near this [concept], and while it seemed some sort of intriguing, it was also deeply troubling, and dangerous, and wore on my consciousness in ways I could not consider well at all, or forward thinking Discussing this sort of feelings would simply mean a diagnosis of some sort of delusions, but without the risk of doing that far, I could simply only attribute it to some sort of spiritual purpose, which at the very least in the safest way, was most probably one sided. I was just a troubled girl in a lot of pain, and somehow my brain was wrapping itself around a way to manage this constant sort of torture. Oh this is so much funnier with the [redactions] Agreed. It was different, maybe, not because it sounded different. It sounded the same, exactly. But the difference was, I was listening as a producer, and not as some girl that was in love with him. Or— thought she was. Now I didn't think anything much besides how well it would mash with any of my other favorite songs, by my other favorite artists— or how it was mixed just right and how some sounds hit in the head, and some in the top and how I knew how to do that, but I was kind of lazy. I thought about the glue that held everything together, which is what pissed me off about his music— sounds that didn't come apart and made entirely new sounds together from whatever they once were, because they were so meticulously plastered that way. This kind of engineering gave way to perfectly round spheres elsewhere, or perhaps even the kind of colors in other music but wasn't so much any one thing or another here. Perhaps the point was, that at the time, it was sort of abstract in a way that set a new norm. Now everyone sounded like him— besides him: who could say who he really was presently anyway, besides him, if even that— or the people around him; a constantly changing array of whatever's…things and persons I'd stopped being mad about ages ago. At least, sort of. I was still kind of mad, but more that I still just paled in comparison, and almost that I'd lost total interest, besides learning this: what I could apply to it now, knowing what I knew, but still might never possibly achieve, not at this point anymore because I couldn't..:but perhaps because I didn't want to. And it really was great— eight or ten or twelve Grammies great, but I was just kind of— not that. Not the way I used to be. Still, I gave myself the benefit of the doubt. [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] -Ū. Death of A Superstar DJ Copyright athe Complex Collective © 2025 All Rights Reserved.

I had to hsve still believed in magic to some degree, because in all of the applicable ways it made sense, I applied it— much with reverence and spirituality such is religion, all of my ritual occultation was indeed still based in the science of source, as to say that God itself was all the major diety I needed to call upon, in prayer and in this thought process. I was more in alignment with this definition of divinity than with any given science or religion, or rather an antithesis of either, because as it seemed the walls would draw in on one or another, I found myself and my God at the center of all things, both dark and light— encompassing both the greatness of what was as known, and also not— the words and words seeming to pour from me like another space in time was held inside myself and beyond what even I could have understood. I couldn't force my artwork, and even knowing that I was slipping between the cracks as far as deadlines were concerned I was wreaking havoc in another realm of artistic torture— knowing what I already had, but could not possibly forage or put out— my unplublished works a daunting reminder of what was about me, but was not known. Then again, as an artist, I wondered had I any purpose at all in being known, or was it just some kind of harsh injustice to my own talent that I would hide in the shadows while I presumed some other alias or moniker would take the spotlight, and especially so for some of my more controversial tones and pieces. Overall, I was devastated that these two years just as any other period in my life seemed just to be a fight against whatever the opposite of God was and my own absence from this light I with desperation called upon over and over— with the knowing well that in time and never my own that it did work, and that this magic and occult was a real substance, but never in the way that I might think or understand, and most certainly not under the guise of any rules of expectation. I was a flying saucer in the vast expanse of outer known time, and my own body was something like a waking memory of sliver for all that was and all I had done and could do in conciousness. In that aspect, I was not awake, and only dreaming in a way that was personified by my self in the physical realm where I seemed to be having some kind of shattered montage of a life awakened from a death sleep and into the afterlife of an only somewhat waking world— the twisted bodies surrounding none less than the half capacity I'd ever had to congulate an imaged world in my own fortune, and I was sure otherwise I was half braindead or some partial version of a somewhat paralyzed and seemingly unconscious drone of one world or another, my inner essence escaping for freedom and in the silent darkness screaming up to the gathered surface to please pull the plug— to let me pass on, and to go into the world of fortune; under the circumstances it appeared as if the darkness was always grasping at its chance to imprison even this of what was left, along the lines of gratitude I felt shattered but also honored; whatever I was had also kept itself tied to these words and these colorful arts as a hidden sign that there was a truth in this previous life that had went unsaid. And so magic it was as it pertained to God because I believed in both or as one as another or one in the same. I am, dog on a leash I am heart full of love I am all out of time I am all out of home I couldn't make any sense of what seemed to be some kind of telepathic connection with the host of the tonight show, which I kept at a safe enough and respectable distance, but perhaps maybe it was telemetry. Perhaps somehow my strange frequency was intercepting with a broadcast signal, or a radio tower, or perhaps it was the show itself— as I called it, the ghost of Johnny Carson. Overall I hadn't meant for it to happen, but it did seem to always kind of rather by accident happen— my strange dreams of all the people coming together for the 50th anniversary of Saturday night live, and though for some or whatever reason thinking it would stop, but it hadn't, and in fact rumbling thoughts of mark wahlberg and some of the other recent guests could not have been a coincidence, nor could have been what seemed at the time Robert Dinero or any of the others who had been blooming in my mind in the weeks leading up to the event and I couldn't have considered it any more after being unable to focus on anything besides what seemed to have been a protruding vein from the poor man's forehead, which for myself had made me promise not to look at all too closely— Then, here it was nearly a year later and I couldn't do anything but momentarily curse aloud and pause in the thought of not letting myself go north of where I was in my media calling; even in the modern world of horrid things one human being does to another, under no circumstances whatsoever could I continue l to belittle and downplay my own self respect, especially in the grips of something that felt like a more rising sense of urgency than ever— I hadn't had sex in year with anyone, and there were very few things I actually wanted. I was increasingly picky to my own demise, and increasingly delusional, and vulnarable in such a sense that anything I knew I wanted, I also knew to respect myself enough to stay far away from. Not so much the double edged sword was this than simply knowing better— the other hosts and almost all the world were safe— this was not. I kept it out of the news And out of my head For awhile now; I kept it out of the noose As far as my head is concerned But after awhile, when I started to smile It was thinking of you; Now more than ever I've got more than nothing to lose. I'm a straight jacket away from an Oscar And eight days from my triumph I called also the Ace of the Spades, The Club and the Diamond I'm tipping my hat to your making But playing for tips And paying for service I've got more than four words But the forward was barely a dollar. I'm rarely a savage, But also, your honor I give not a gasp but a grasping at petals And strings of a flower The rock to a kite And a wind in the forager, So much beyond what I know is unmasked In my country not home But a foreigner CHAOS It took me two times to find you out.. It's not my fault, I'm not the one. CHAOS And still, you saw what God I was. The god of Chaos, not my love. You are not my king! “Not my king” he says I— And yet am king; A king of kind; The king of thieves! And you, my grace? Caring verily fir your thanks And what if my remarks? The careless woman! And of swords. Adeiu. But still untied I gallop! (Turning) And yet I stay. To careless words. A triumph. Not to mark my time to dust As there to wait in forests wonder, Catching, maybe, as you were But still my tied to bark an order To what! Your making. My kind! And gathered. The wake to drift the call to forward, And coming in the mark I gathered Your ties be mind, And yet the waiting shadows foraged (And also in the art I bathe) Several other ballads pondered To mine ties, your art my word Your thought my song, And wind my fortune And so you are, then my kite! I am both what kite and wind you may; But what of stone and rock? [suddenly, in modern tongue] I'm glad you asked. CUT TO: CONAN O BRIEN wakes up suddenly in his pleated blue pajamas from what seems like a very deep sleep. CONAN Surfing? I think I will go surfing. He gets out of bed and stares out of the window at the sunrise; it is a picturesque Californian day. {Enter the multiverse} I guess any time I try to terminate my state of being, I am annihilated You're really right; this is a death curse You're really right, this is a death curse Any time I try to find my way out, I am exiled You're right, this is a time bomb You're right, I've got my eyes closed Are there any intimate conclusions? Are there any derelictions, or delusions? And redactions or delirium, any infinity? Any fear at all? I hear you now I all bleed blue I'm born to suffer Stuff the earplugs in a little deeper little longer, Then we all get caught in martyrdom Or someone else's story Ooh, you started it Not now, God! He was born and gone in such an instant That I bark to love him First as dog and then as servant Other Master is absolved and yet absorbent I get caught in my own foul ball I have missed for trains Just decided to cast you all out The demons wandered Just like they wanted The snake still slithered, The owl still called I was also cosmic once Just I just forgot I was never pardoned Oh who are I I smell howling. Hogties withered out ones, Wondered weathered swallows When I see Whether or not You tip your hat to my making— The ball rolls, The owl cries, The harp sings, The hare runs, The mark, my cause. I am your forager. Then, gripping in the wakes The calls that bantered Not here or owl, I Not dog or rabbit, No wake and no fortune You are to run Or lest be tortured You are our call No, for what They says have ceased and the harp has stung sound, Not one but two sour notes aching, And there I bartered with all but nothing that I had To love, the power Then angst in me mine soul and my ties, My ways were na'er seek but shattered also I lake in lessons and drift in oceans and drown in all our skies, azure and lavender, Creeping in the cape that is both overshadowed our, I Gripping in the ways seeks foreign to none and also listened in your foyer Waking not as ghosts but yet as haunted Here tith thee my tide and I bade farewell And fate he they to keep our half tide I am hiding in your wakes and in my foreign I am forgotten and also withered, gathered! I am decrcrepit and unloved kept secret I am as shamed and as unwell as all our sick and tired Poor and outside I am as outside as the grass and trees have slaughtered I am as ancient as before the oceans tide did bring, my kind did watch your light come for us out of darkness And into my shores of only oceans you not know, My thoughts be born into your shadows And my own making is your honor Whatever that means This Is creepy. You're right! Fly bird! Fly! Uh. Did you bring a bird with you into the office. Kind of Kind of? Yes or no? I think of him fondly I killed myself on his birthday he didn't even want me But luckily it's also Obama's Birthday, that is I was not hot enough To this day I want another body Aftermarket Parts With happy accidents {enter the multiverse} Kind of! What does that even mean! Bird, go away! It means “kind of!” He follows me everywhere. What! Thais ridiculous. It is. Ridiculous! See, I've got to figure this out, because it seems like, indirectly, sometimes the weird and random things going on in my head, are at least very partially Actually [nevermind] This makes whatever I'm supposed to do increasingly difficult, on the basis that [Ahem] SNL alumni that [uncontrollable fit of hysterical coughing] ago. I can't understand what I might have done to deserve this kind of torture— My own accidental muses have all been [birds, at some point or another], Untouchable, entirely separate other monsters, and I've often thought that perhaps this is my kind of purgatory; Because I fell so insensibly and head over heels in love before and was still rampantly tortured and undermined, I was unwilling to see myself in any sort of attainable situation, And so everything had become some sort of fantastical delusion— Or perhaps even a hope that I could at the very least Become something greater; in that understanding the factors that were determining the outcomes of these other peoples lives I for whatever reason seemed to be magnetized to, I could emulate myself into a situation where none of it any longer mattered. Still, it was some sort of strange fascination that anytime someone seemingly out of place appeared somewhere in my dreams or in my rampant and running thoughts, they just so happened to be hovering somewhere near this [concept], and while it seemed some sort of intriguing, it was also deeply troubling, and dangerous, and wore on my consciousness in ways I could not consider well at all, or forward thinking Discussing this sort of feelings would simply mean a diagnosis of some sort of delusions, but without the risk of doing that far, I could simply only attribute it to some sort of spiritual purpose, which at the very least in the safest way, was most probably one sided. I was just a troubled girl in a lot of pain, and somehow my brain was wrapping itself around a way to manage this constant sort of torture. Oh this is so much funnier with the [redactions] Agreed. It was different, maybe, not because it sounded different. It sounded the same, exactly. But the difference was, I was listening as a producer, and not as some girl that was in love with him. Or— thought she was. Now I didn't think anything much besides how well it would mash with any of my other favorite songs, by my other favorite artists— or how it was mixed just right and how some sounds hit in the head, and some in the top and how I knew how to do that, but I was kind of lazy. I thought about the glue that held everything together, which is what pissed me off about his music— sounds that didn't come apart and made entirely new sounds together from whatever they once were, because they were so meticulously plastered that way. This kind of engineering gave way to perfectly round spheres elsewhere, or perhaps even the kind of colors in other music but wasn't so much any one thing or another here. Perhaps the point was, that at the time, it was sort of abstract in a way that set a new norm. Now everyone sounded like him— besides him: who could say who he really was presently anyway, besides him, if even that— or the people around him; a constantly changing array of whatever's…things and persons I'd stopped being mad about ages ago. At least, sort of. I was still kind of mad, but more that I still just paled in comparison, and almost that I'd lost total interest, besides learning this: what I could apply to it now, knowing what I knew, but still might never possibly achieve, not at this point anymore because I couldn't..:but perhaps because I didn't want to. And it really was great— eight or ten or twelve Grammies great, but I was just kind of— not that. Not the way I used to be. Still, I gave myself the benefit of the doubt. [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] -Ū. Death of A Superstar DJ Copyright athe Complex Collective © 2025 All Rights Reserved.

The artist reserves all rights to intellectual property maintained and produced by any and all publications of this series and is thereby protected under any applicable copyright law and/or trademark. All fictionalizations of persons living or dead are meant to be perceived as characterized and/or fictional (fan-fiction) are for entertainment purposes only, and are not to be perceived as real re-enactments, dramatizations of events past or present, media dialogues or agendas, or factual exchanges pertaining to and surrounding real-life circumstances. The dialogues and entires expressed in this project are in no way liable for any action, expression, disagreements, entitlements held by the reader at his or her/ their own discretion. I guess any time I try to terminate my state of being, I am annihilated You're really right; this is a death curse You're really right, this is a death curse Any time I try to find my way out, I am exiled You're right, this is a time bomb You're right, I've got my eyes closed Are there any intimate conclusions? Are there any derelictions, or delusions? And redactions or delirium, any infinity? Any fear at all? I hear you now I all bleed blue I'm born to suffer Stuff the earplugs in a little deeper little longer, Then we all get caught in martyrdom Or someone else's story Ooh, you started it Not now, God! He was born and gone in such an instant That I bark to love him First as dog and then as servant Other Master is absolved and yet absorbent I get caught in my own foul ball I have missed for trains Just decided to cast you all out The demons wandered Just like they wanted The snake still slithered, The owl still called I was also cosmic once Just I just forgot I was never pardoned Oh who are I I smell howling. Hogties withered out ones, Wondered weathered swallows When I see Whether or not You tip your hat to my making— The ball rolls, The owl cries, The harp sings, The hare runs, The mark, my cause. I am your forager. Then, gripping in the wakes The calls that bantered Not here or owl, I Not dog or rabbit, No wake and no fortune You are to run Or lest be tortured You are our call No, for what They says have ceased and the harp has stung sound, Not one but two sour notes aching, And there I bartered with all but nothing that I had To love, the power Then angst in me mine soul and my ties, My ways were na'er seek but shattered also I lake in lessons and drift in oceans and drown in all our skies, azure and lavender, Creeping in the cape that is both overshadowed our, I Gripping in the ways seeks foreign to none and also listened in your foyer Waking not as ghosts but yet as haunted Here tith thee my tide and I bade farewell And fate he they to keep our half tide I am hiding in your wakes and in my foreign I am forgotten and also withered, gathered! I am decrcrepit and unloved kept secret I am as shamed and as unwell as all our sick and tired Poor and outside I am as outside as the grass and trees have slaughtered I am as ancient as before the oceans tide did bring, my kind did watch your light come for us out of darkness And into my shores of only oceans you not know, My thoughts be born into your shadows And my own making is your honor Whatever that means This Is creepy. You're right! Fly bird! Fly! Uh. Did you bring a bird with you into the office. Kind of Kind of? Yes or no? I think of him fondly I killed myself on his birthday he didn't even want me But luckily it's also Obama's Birthday, that is I was not hot enough To this day I want another body Aftermarket Parts With happy accidents {enter the multiverse} Kind of! What does that even mean! Bird, go away! It means “kind of!” He follows me everywhere. What! Thais ridiculous. It is. Ridiculous! [The Festival Project ™] The Complex Collective © {Enter The Multiverse} Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025 All Rights Reserved

The artist reserves all rights to intellectual property maintained and produced by any and all publications of this series and is thereby protected under any applicable copyright law and/or trademark. All fictionalizations of persons living or dead are meant to be perceived as characterized and/or fictional (fan-fiction) are for entertainment purposes only, and are not to be perceived as real re-enactments, dramatizations of events past or present, media dialogues or agendas, or factual exchanges pertaining to and surrounding real-life circumstances. The dialogues and entires expressed in this project are in no way liable for any action, expression, disagreements, entitlements held by the reader at his or her/ their own discretion. I guess any time I try to terminate my state of being, I am annihilated You're really right; this is a death curse You're really right, this is a death curse Any time I try to find my way out, I am exiled You're right, this is a time bomb You're right, I've got my eyes closed Are there any intimate conclusions? Are there any derelictions, or delusions? And redactions or delirium, any infinity? Any fear at all? I hear you now I all bleed blue I'm born to suffer Stuff the earplugs in a little deeper little longer, Then we all get caught in martyrdom Or someone else's story Ooh, you started it Not now, God! He was born and gone in such an instant That I bark to love him First as dog and then as servant Other Master is absolved and yet absorbent I get caught in my own foul ball I have missed for trains Just decided to cast you all out The demons wandered Just like they wanted The snake still slithered, The owl still called I was also cosmic once Just I just forgot I was never pardoned Oh who are I I smell howling. Hogties withered out ones, Wondered weathered swallows When I see Whether or not You tip your hat to my making— The ball rolls, The owl cries, The harp sings, The hare runs, The mark, my cause. I am your forager. Then, gripping in the wakes The calls that bantered Not here or owl, I Not dog or rabbit, No wake and no fortune You are to run Or lest be tortured You are our call No, for what They says have ceased and the harp has stung sound, Not one but two sour notes aching, And there I bartered with all but nothing that I had To love, the power Then angst in me mine soul and my ties, My ways were na'er seek but shattered also I lake in lessons and drift in oceans and drown in all our skies, azure and lavender, Creeping in the cape that is both overshadowed our, I Gripping in the ways seeks foreign to none and also listened in your foyer Waking not as ghosts but yet as haunted Here tith thee my tide and I bade farewell And fate he they to keep our half tide I am hiding in your wakes and in my foreign I am forgotten and also withered, gathered! I am decrcrepit and unloved kept secret I am as shamed and as unwell as all our sick and tired Poor and outside I am as outside as the grass and trees have slaughtered I am as ancient as before the oceans tide did bring, my kind did watch your light come for us out of darkness And into my shores of only oceans you not know, My thoughts be born into your shadows And my own making is your honor Whatever that means This Is creepy. You're right! Fly bird! Fly! Uh. Did you bring a bird with you into the office. Kind of Kind of? Yes or no? I think of him fondly I killed myself on his birthday he didn't even want me But luckily it's also Obama's Birthday, that is I was not hot enough To this day I want another body Aftermarket Parts With happy accidents {enter the multiverse} Kind of! What does that even mean! Bird, go away! It means “kind of!” He follows me everywhere. What! Thais ridiculous. It is. Ridiculous! [The Festival Project ™] The Complex Collective © {Enter The Multiverse} Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025 All Rights Reserved

The artist reserves all rights to intellectual property maintained and produced by any and all publications of this series and is thereby protected under any applicable copyright law and/or trademark. All fictionalizations of persons living or dead are meant to be perceived as characterized and/or fictional (fan-fiction) are for entertainment purposes only, and are not to be perceived as real re-enactments, dramatizations of events past or present, media dialogues or agendas, or factual exchanges pertaining to and surrounding real-life circumstances. The dialogues and entires expressed in this project are in no way liable for any action, expression, disagreements, entitlements held by the reader at his or her/ their own discretion. I guess any time I try to terminate my state of being, I am annihilated You're really right; this is a death curse You're really right, this is a death curse Any time I try to find my way out, I am exiled You're right, this is a time bomb You're right, I've got my eyes closed Are there any intimate conclusions? Are there any derelictions, or delusions? And redactions or delirium, any infinity? Any fear at all? I hear you now I all bleed blue I'm born to suffer Stuff the earplugs in a little deeper little longer, Then we all get caught in martyrdom Or someone else's story Ooh, you started it Not now, God! He was born and gone in such an instant That I bark to love him First as dog and then as servant Other Master is absolved and yet absorbent I get caught in my own foul ball I have missed for trains Just decided to cast you all out The demons wandered Just like they wanted The snake still slithered, The owl still called I was also cosmic once Just I just forgot I was never pardoned Oh who are I I smell howling. Hogties withered out ones, Wondered weathered swallows When I see Whether or not You tip your hat to my making— The ball rolls, The owl cries, The harp sings, The hare runs, The mark, my cause. I am your forager. Then, gripping in the wakes The calls that bantered Not here or owl, I Not dog or rabbit, No wake and no fortune You are to run Or lest be tortured You are our call No, for what They says have ceased and the harp has stung sound, Not one but two sour notes aching, And there I bartered with all but nothing that I had To love, the power Then angst in me mine soul and my ties, My ways were na'er seek but shattered also I lake in lessons and drift in oceans and drown in all our skies, azure and lavender, Creeping in the cape that is both overshadowed our, I Gripping in the ways seeks foreign to none and also listened in your foyer Waking not as ghosts but yet as haunted Here tith thee my tide and I bade farewell And fate he they to keep our half tide I am hiding in your wakes and in my foreign I am forgotten and also withered, gathered! I am decrcrepit and unloved kept secret I am as shamed and as unwell as all our sick and tired Poor and outside I am as outside as the grass and trees have slaughtered I am as ancient as before the oceans tide did bring, my kind did watch your light come for us out of darkness And into my shores of only oceans you not know, My thoughts be born into your shadows And my own making is your honor Whatever that means This Is creepy. You're right! Fly bird! Fly! Uh. Did you bring a bird with you into the office. Kind of Kind of? Yes or no? I think of him fondly I killed myself on his birthday he didn't even want me But luckily it's also Obama's Birthday, that is I was not hot enough To this day I want another body Aftermarket Parts With happy accidents {enter the multiverse} Kind of! What does that even mean! Bird, go away! It means “kind of!” He follows me everywhere. What! Thais ridiculous. It is. Ridiculous! [The Festival Project ™] The Complex Collective © {Enter The Multiverse} Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025 All Rights Reserved

October brought AI hype, digital euro déjà vu, and the shocking return of crypto — which means it was just another totally normal month in Nordic fintech.Pål, Ville, and Janne reunite to unpack the biggest stories from the Helsinki Fintech Farm newsletter. Spoiler: every startup is now an AI company. From automated compliance tools to AI-powered CFOs and even kiosks that buy your old phone via Swish — if it's got electricity, someone's calling it AI.Meanwhile, Klarna is back in the headlines with a new subscription model that makes Ville long for more gamified tiers, Pål rant about paying to breathe, and Janne quietly celebrate another strong month for dad jokes. The trio also tackle the ECB's digital euro saga — now entering its “we promise it's still happening” phase — and Nordea's cautious dip into crypto trading, which Ville swears has absolutely nothing to do with his day job.Your biweekly dose of fintech group therapy is here — complete with skepticism, sarcasm, and just enough substance to make it count. In other words: business as usual at Fintech Daydreaming.Episode hosted by Pål Krogdahl, Ville Sointu & Janne SalminenEpisode produced and edited by Fintech Daydreaming- Email us on Hello@FintechDaydreaming.com- Fintech Daydreaming home page - https://www.FintechDaydreaming.com- Fintech Daydreaming on Twitter - https://twitter.com/FintechDaydream- Fintech Daydreaming on LinkedIn - https://www.linkedin.com/company/fintech-daydreaming- Pål Krogdahl - https://www.linkedin.com/in/krogdahl/- Ville Sointu - https://www.linkedin.com/in/ville-sointu-54682b/

Send us a textDee and Carol continue to focus on different species names and this week it's "repens."For all the details, check out their newsletter!To watch them on YouTube, use this link!Insect of the Week: giant leopard moth. Flowers:Trifolium repens - White clover Ajuga reptans - Carpet bugleweed (“reptans” is close enough to “repens” for us!)Veronica repens - Creeping speedwell Mahonia repens - Creeping Oregon grape.Callisia repens - Turtle vine Vegetables:Wild Strawberries:  Fragaria repensRubus repens - Star Violets aka False Violets aka Runaway RobinOn the Bookshelf:Vintage Roses: Beautiful Varieties for Home and Garden by Jane Eastoe, Photographs by Georgianna Lane (Amazon Link) Dirt: A Fond Farewell From Farmer's Almanac.Rabbit Holes: Lost Lady of Garden Writing, Florence Knock. Carol's weekly newsletter, “In the Garden With Carol”Dee's Instagram Reel on things to do in the garden now and what you can wait to do.The garden fairies wrote a post on Carol's blog.Dee's Instagram Reel about structure in your garden.Carol's Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day post.Check out our affiliate links here. Support the showOn Instagram: Carol: Indygardener, Dee: RedDirtRamblings, Our podcast: TheGardenangelists.On Facebook: The Gardenangelists' Garden Club.On YouTube.

Halloween pumpkins have barely started to decompose and Christmas décor is already adorning store shelves. When do you get those decorations out? How soon is too soon?

Exam stress affects more than study habits. It influences sleep, mood, nutrition and cognitive performance. In this expert led conversation, fitness presenter and mental fitness coach Liezel van der Westhuizen shares research supported strategies that help students manage pressure, increase focus and maintain emotional balance. Early Breakfast with Africa Melane is 702’s and CapeTalk’s early morning talk show. Experienced broadcaster Africa Melane brings you the early morning news, sports, business, and interviews politicians and analysts to help make sense of the world. He also enjoys chatting to guests in the lifestyle sphere and the Arts. All the interviews are podcasted for you to catch-up and listen. Thank you for listening to this podcast from Early Breakfast with Africa Melane For more about the show click https://buff.ly/XHry7eQ and find all the catch-up podcasts here https://buff.ly/XJ10LBU Listen live on weekdays between 04:00 and 06:00 (SA Time) to the Early Breakfast with Africa Melane broadcast on 702 https://buff.ly/gk3y0Kj and CapeTalk https://buff.ly/NnFM3N Subscribe to the 702 and CapeTalk daily and weekly newsletters https://buff.ly/v5mfetc Follow us on social media: 702 on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TalkRadio702 702 on TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@talkradio702 702 on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/talkradio702/ 702 on X: https://x.com/Radio702 702 on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@radio702 CapeTalk on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CapeTalk CapeTalk on TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@capetalk CapeTalk on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ CapeTalk on X: https://x.com/CapeTalk CapeTalk on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@CapeTalk567See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

The scariest time of the year Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

On the surface, the story of Sudan's war is about two generals vying for power. But it's also about a vast web of international interests involving the U.S., China, Russia, and the UAE.  Today on the show, the story of how things in Sudan got to this point, and the effects of the conflict around the world. This episode originally ran in 2024 and has been updated.To access bonus episodes and listen to Throughline sponsor-free, subscribe to Throughline+ via Apple Podcasts or at plus.npr.org/throughline.Learn more about sponsor message choices: podcastchoices.com/adchoicesNPR Privacy Policy

The Cover 3 crew is back to break down the latest College Football Playoff rankings. Who were the biggest winners and losers of this rankings reveal? Cover 3 is available on Apple Podcasts, Spotify and wherever else you listen to podcasts.  Visit the betting arena on CBSSports.com for all the latest in sportsbook reviews and sportsbook promos for betting on college football. Watch Cover 3 on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/cover3 Follow our hosts on Twitter: @Chip_Patterson, @TomFornelli, @DannyKanell, @BudElliott3 For more college football coverage from CBS Sports, visit https://www.cbssports.com/college-football/ To hear more from the CBS Sports Podcast Network, visit https://www.cbssports.com/podcasts/ To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Tom from Forcett calls in to chat with Kaz and Tubes about the price of beer going up in Tassie. **Drink responsibly.**See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Forget the overpowered hero who wins by swinging harder. We're diving into a rare isekai that swaps power creep for policy, and the results are gripping. Realist Hero drops Soma into a bankrupt kingdom and asks him to do the most dangerous thing in fantasy: govern. We talk through surprise abdications, weaponized accounting, and a magic skill that's more useful behind a desk than on a battlefield—until it isn't.What hooked us is how the world defines “human” and “demon.” Elves and beastfolk fall under humanity; demons split into intelligent societies and wild creatures, and no one shares a language. That single worldbuilding choice reshapes war, ethics, and diplomacy. When a refugee girl can speak to animals—and a demon—you start to see peace as a translation problem as much as a military one. From there, we trace the fault lines: a three-clause “humanity contract” full of exploits, a civil war staged to smoke out corruption, and an annexation that begins with food relief and ends with cultural respect.We also get into characters who quietly power the state. Hakuya matches Soma's strategy with local expertise. Aisha and Licia embody disciplined strength. Juna carries national morale with song. Poncho expands cuisine to fight famine—because sometimes survival is a recipe, not a raid. And yes, we wrestle with the hard choices: executing nobles who won't reform, honoring a general who saves the realm by becoming its villain, and drawing the line between being a kind king and a soft one.If you're tired of isekai that promise stakes but reset the world after every fight, this story delivers consequence. Hit play, then tell us: should more fantasy heroes win with language, logistics, and law? Subscribe, share with a friend who loves smart worldbuilding, and leave a review with your boldest isekai hot take.Text us for feedback and recommendations for future episodes!Support the showWe thank everyone for listening to our podcast! We hope to grow even bigger to make great things happen, such as new equipment for higher-quality podcasts, a merch store & more! If you're interested in supporting us, giving us feedback and staying in the loop with updates, then follow our ZONE Social Media Portal to access our website, our Discord server, our Patreon page, and other social media platforms! DISCLAIMER: The thoughts and opinions shared within are those of the speaker. We encourage everyone to do their own research and to experience the content mentioned at your own volition. We try not to reveal spoilers to those who are not up to speed, but in case some slips out, please be sure to check out the source material before you continue listening!Stay nerdy and stay faithful,- J.B.Subscribe to "Content for Creators" on YouTube to listen to some of the music used for these episodes!

Cleveland school officials put together a thoughtful plan for school closures, but should they have been more transparent throughout the process? Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The expert realtors at Berkshire Hathaway Premier Partners have some new statistics about first time homebuyers and how that age is not what we have seen in the past. Get the inside scoop on how you can position yourself to be a homeowner ahead of this trend.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

We begin by discussing President Trump's call to end the filibuster and under which circumstances it would make sense to do so. Next, as we watch Islamists gain more control over our politics, we need a plan to counterattack against the Muslim Brotherhood influence and creeping Sharia. We're joined today by Chris Holton of the Center for Security Policy, who has been fighting to keep Sharia law out of our courts. He is focused on red-state initiatives to ensure that Sharia law is banned from family court and that when Islamic practices conflict with American law, they are not recognized. We also discuss the need for state attorneys general to gather evidence tying the major Islamic organizations building mosques and community infrastructure to terror finance so that we can finally dismantle their illicit networks funding subversion in the country. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

LBC Irregulars: A Sherlock Holmes PodcastEpisode 17: "The Illustrious Client" & "The Creeping Man"This quarter we welcome Sherlock Holmes super fans Ruth & Darrin Sutherland to the show. Will they prove to our listeners that they are the ones that should be hosting this show? Will Jarrod ever stop monkeying around?  Can Kathy convince Kareem Abdul-Jabbar to join us on an episode of LBC Irregulars? Tune in to find out all the answers...#LBCIrregularsLet us know what you think!Email the show at contact@longboxcrusade.comThis podcast is a member of the LONGBOX CRUSADE NETWORK:LINKTREE: https://linktr.ee/longboxcrusadeVisit the WEBSITE: http://www.longboxcrusade.com/Follow on TWITTER: https://twitter.com/LongboxCrusadeFollow on INSTAGRAM: https://www.instagram.com/longboxcrusadeLike the FACEBOOK page: https://www.facebook.com/LongboxCrusadeSubscribe to the YOUTUBE Channel: https://goo.gl/4LkhovSubscribe on Apple Podcast at:https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/the-longbox-crusade/id1118783510?mt=2Thank you for listening and we hope you have enjoyed this episode of LBC Irregulars: A Sherlock Holmes Podcast.#LBCIrregulars #SherlockHolmes #Sherlock #Holmes #holmesandwatson

Click to Subscribe: https://bit.ly/Youtube-Subscribe-SoapDirt Beyond the Gates spoilers show that Kat, played by Colby Muhammad, is in a rage, while Vernon Dupree, portrayed by Clifton Davis, sparks intrigue with suspicious behavior. On November 3rd, in season 1 episode 164, Eva Thomas, played by Ambyr Michelle, provides Leslie, or Dana 'Leslie' Thomas, portrayed by Trisha Mann, with crucial updates about Ted Richardson, performed by Keith D. Robinson. Anita Dupree, brought to life by Tamara Tunie, feels overwhelmed, possibly due to the planning of an annual charity event. Meanwhile, Vernon Dupree engages in a secretive phone call and meeting, raising questions about his fidelity.  BTG spoilers reveal that Derek Baldwin, played by Ben Gavin, makes a revealing phone call to Shanice Johnson, played by Ernestine Johnson, leading to an unexpected confrontation with Ashley Morgan, portrayed by Jen Jacob. Naomi Hamilton Hawthorne, brought to life by Arielle Prepetit, expresses frustration towards those closest to her, potentially due to complications about her pregnancy with Jacob Hawthorne, performed by Jibre Hordges.  More weekly Beyond the Gates spoilers indicate that Vanessa McBride, played by Lauren Buglioli, takes control of an aspect crucial to Joey Armstrong, portrayed by Jon Lindstrom, while Bill Hamilton, performed by Timon Kyle Durrett, makes his loyalties clear to Dani Dupree, portraying Karla Mosley. Pamela Curtis, played by Cady McClain, seeks answers from Andre Richardson, portrayed by Sean Freeman.  More BTG weekly spoilers hint that Samantha, performed by Najah Jackson, pleads with Smitty, or Bradley 'Smitty' Smith, played by Mike Manning, and Nicole Dupree Richardson, portrayed by Daphnee Duplaix, for help. Martin, played by Brandon Claybon, expresses his fury, leading to a showdown between Kat and Martin. Eva's divisive statement leads to Kat rejecting their father, Ted. You are listening to Belynda from Soap Dirt. The most listened to soap opera podcaster. Visit our Beyond the Gates section of Soap Dirt: https://soapdirt.com/category/beyond-the-gates/ Listen to our Podcasts: https://soapdirt.podbean.com/ And Check out our always up-to-date Beyond the Gates Spoilers page at: https://soapdirt.com/beyond-the-gates-spoilers/ Check Out our Social Media... Twitter: https://twitter.com/SoapDirtTV Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SoapDirt Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/soapdirt/ TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@soapdirt Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/soapdirt/

The tapeworm Echinococcus multilocularis is normally found in rodents and other wild animals, such as coyotes and foxes, but it can affect dogs and even humans, posing a real threat to both. Despite historically being an endemic country for E. multilocularis, recent data suggests that this disease is emerging in a new way in the U.S. A potentially new strain is spreading into different wildlife reservoirs and new areas of the country. While new diagnostics are helping us identify more cases in dogs, the whole risk picture is still unclear. In this episode of the VetFolio Voice podcast, we talk about how this disease affects dogs, the best current diagnostic techniques, treatment options and how to protect pets and people!

Match day 11 sees the debut of another new coach in the division, a side in Segunda become the WORLD leaders in one particular stat, some of the top sides are starting to stutter whilst others are creeping up slowly on the rest. Alex and Liam bring you all of the round up from this week's match day, and for a change we are able to do so on all 11 games as this midweek is the Copa Del Rey 1st round, something you can hear all about on the patreon.  In part 2 of this week's show we bring you audio from the ground in the partidazo in Mendizorroza between Mirandes and Racing Santander. -------------------------- Why wait until Thursday? Listen early and ad free for as little as 3 Euros a month on Patreon or sign up for our extra content tier to hear the second 45 of the show, FREE TRIAL FOR 7 DAYS and then from as little as 3 Euros per month (billed in your local currency). On the link below;⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠www.patreon.com/spanishsegundashow⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Today I'm reviewing Hour of the Pumpkin Queen — a perfectly autumnal blend of cozy horror and slow-build suspense, wrapped in folklore, fall aesthetics, and that creeping dread that sneaks up on you chapter by chapter.With its rich seasonal atmosphere, eerie tension, and a heroine trapped between tradition and terror, this book hits that sweet spot between comforting and unsettling. If you live for Halloween energy, witchy stories, harvest legends, and horror with heart, this one absolutely belongs on your TBR.

Be sure to find our new show and follow us! Here is a little peek of episode 1.Welcome to our very first episode! Cherokee is taking the reins for our first week and telling you all about a ring of 6 Italian women in the 17th century that killed 600 men over 50 years with one pretty little poison-- Aqua Tofana.We also end the episode with the creepiest things of each of our weeks… So be sure to listen to the end. And vote in our poll on whether you'd like to hear our creepiest thing at the beginning or end of each podcast. Please also be sure to leave us a review and subscribe!We are always open to new topic suggestions... Follow us on instagram:http://www.instagram.com/yourecreepingmeout

- There's a lot of online fear mongering - but are we about to see unrest over food stamps?- The Establishment is trying to undo the little bit of school choice Missouri has now.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

How Progressive Theology Is Creeping Into Your Kids' Storybooks The just published “Just Love Story Bible” has created quite a stir and is the latest na recent trend of progressive Christian publishers targeting children with false theology and teaching.  In this episode of Truth Unbound, Dr. Walt Swaim exposes this trojan horse of the heresy of progressive Christianity and why it is such a danger to children and the church #TruthUnbound #ChristianApologetics #WalterSwaim #TruthUnboundPodcast #JustLoveStoryBible #ProgressiveChristianity #FalseTeaching #ChristianApologetics #BibliacalTruth #SoundDoctrine #ChristianParents #ProtectOurKids #WaltSwaim #BibleTruth #Christianity #FaithInJesus #DefendTheFaith #BiblicalWorldview #ChristianDiscernment #GospelTruth #HeresyWarning #ChristianPodcast #JesusIsLord Audio only and video: https://truthunbound.podbean.com/ Truth Unbound website: https://truthunbound.org/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TruthUnbound YouTube: www.youtube.com/@TruthUnboundMinistries Info@TruthUnbound.org https://lbu.edu

How Progressive Theology Is Creeping Into Your Kids' Storybooks The just published “Just Love Story Bible” has created quite a stir and is the latest na recent trend of progressive Christian publishers targeting children with false theology and teaching.  In this episode of Truth Unbound, Dr. Walt Swaim exposes this trojan horse of the heresy of progressive Christianity and why it is such a danger to children and the church #TruthUnbound #ChristianApologetics #WalterSwaim #TruthUnboundPodcast #JustLoveStoryBible #ProgressiveChristianity #FalseTeaching #ChristianApologetics #BibliacalTruth #SoundDoctrine #ChristianParents #ProtectOurKids #WaltSwaim #BibleTruth #Christianity #FaithInJesus #DefendTheFaith #BiblicalWorldview #ChristianDiscernment #GospelTruth #HeresyWarning #ChristianPodcast #JesusIsLord Audio only and video: https://truthunbound.podbean.com/ Truth Unbound website: https://truthunbound.org/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TruthUnbound YouTube: www.youtube.com/@TruthUnboundMinistries Info@TruthUnbound.org https://lbu.edu

How Progressive Theology Is Creeping Into Your Kids' Storybooks The just published “Just Love Story Bible” has created quite a stir and is the latest na recent trend of progressive Christian publishers targeting children with false theology and teaching.  In this episode of Truth Unbound, Dr. Walt Swaim exposes this trojan horse of the heresy of progressive Christianity and why it is such a danger to children and the church #TruthUnbound #ChristianApologetics #WalterSwaim #TruthUnboundPodcast #JustLoveStoryBible #ProgressiveChristianity #FalseTeaching #ChristianApologetics #BibliacalTruth #SoundDoctrine #ChristianParents #ProtectOurKids #WaltSwaim #BibleTruth #Christianity #FaithInJesus #DefendTheFaith #BiblicalWorldview #ChristianDiscernment #GospelTruth #HeresyWarning #ChristianPodcast #JesusIsLord Audio only and video: https://truthunbound.podbean.com/ Truth Unbound website: https://truthunbound.org/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TruthUnbound YouTube: www.youtube.com/@TruthUnboundMinistries Info@TruthUnbound.org https://lbu.edu

How Progressive Theology Is Creeping Into Your Kids' Storybooks The just published “Just Love Story Bible” has created quite a stir and is the latest na recent trend of progressive Christian publishers targeting children with false theology and teaching.  In this episode of Truth Unbound, Dr. Walt Swaim exposes this trojan horse of the heresy of progressive Christianity and why it is such a danger to children and the church #TruthUnbound #ChristianApologetics #WalterSwaim #TruthUnboundPodcast #JustLoveStoryBible #ProgressiveChristianity #FalseTeaching #ChristianApologetics #BibliacalTruth #SoundDoctrine #ChristianParents #ProtectOurKids #WaltSwaim #BibleTruth #Christianity #FaithInJesus #DefendTheFaith #BiblicalWorldview #ChristianDiscernment #GospelTruth #HeresyWarning #ChristianPodcast #JesusIsLord Audio only and video: https://truthunbound.podbean.com/ Truth Unbound website: https://truthunbound.org/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TruthUnbound YouTube: www.youtube.com/@TruthUnboundMinistries Info@TruthUnbound.org https://lbu.edu

Match day 11 sees the debut of another new coach in the division, a side in Segunda become the WORLD leaders in one particular stat, some of the top sides are starting to stutter whilst others are creeping up slowly on the rest. Alex and Liam bring you all of the round up from this week's match day, and for a change we are able to do so on all 11 games as this midweek is the Copa Del Rey 1st round, something you can hear all about on the patreon extra content.  Part 2 of this week's show, remember, you can hear all of the show when it is released on a Monday on Patreon for just 3 euros a month, details below.  In part 2 of this week's show we bring you audio from the ground in the partidazo in Mendizorroza between Mirandes and Racing Santander. Why wait until Thursday? Listen early and ad free for as little as 3 Euros a month on Patreon or sign up for our extra content tier to hear the second 45 of the show, FREE TRIAL FOR 7 DAYS and then from as little as 3 Euros per month (billed in your local currency). On the link below;⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠www.patreon.com/spanishsegundashow⁠⁠⁠⁠ Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

On Sunday, October 12, 2025, Pastor Joe Troutman preached "Truth vs. Folly" from 2 Timothy 3:6-9."False teachers may proliferate in the church, but the folly of their teaching will be made evident against the truth of God's word."1. Creeping and Capturing (vs. 6-7)2. Folly or truth (vs. 8-9)

Are these behaviors creepy or totally ok?See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Inner Sanctum  46-01-08 The Creeping Wall

Slaves? Bondsmen? Apprentice? Student loans; Jacob's deal with Laban; Marriage license; Moses' exodus; Julius Caesar's bondage; Contracting rights away; Egypt's Pharaoh; Cause/effect world; Contracts, covenants and constitutions; Asking father for permission to marry daughter; Patriarchy; Parens patria; Isaiah 9:2; Darkness; Error of Baalam; Nicolaitans; Your consent; Offer and acceptance; Pharaoh's sharing; China one-child contract; Benefits as bait; One purse?; Free?; Coercion; What made Rome great?; Loss of values; Decrease in rights; Bait = something for nothing; Pure religion; Sacrificing for your neighbor; Altars; Lively stones; Mark Q?; Communist manifesto; Back in Babylon; Education; Learning from history; Loving the truth; Kristie Q? - Davy Crockett; Lady Godiva?; No exercising authority; Charity requirements; "Faith" defined; Un-holy spirits; Guilt-control; No coveting; Bankruptcy; God's salvation; Walking in faith; Loving neighbor as self; Ekklesia; Miracles; Mark Q? Altars misunderstood?; Creeping corruption; Notes; Denominating money; Deception; Bowing down to statues?; Golden Calf = Reserve fund; Working together; Mystery Babylon; Mark of the Beast; Finger-pointing?; Neglecting our duties; Knowing God; Coming together like Christ; True Church; Allowing choice; Going to the light; Tree of Life; Unhewn stones; Meat with blood in it; Cities of blood; Join the Living Network.

In this Flatlander Kennels Q/A session, Elliott and Chris tackle listener questions covering some of the most pressing training topics. From handling creeping at the line, to dealing with dogs shredding birds, to mastering primary selection and cast angles, Chris breaks down practical approaches for amateurs and pros alike. You'll also hear insights on water sits, blind running attitude, young dog patience in the blind, and even what life looks like for a pro trainer on the road. Packed with real-world advice and perspective, this is an episode handlers at every level can take something from.PartnersMammoth Guardian Dog Crates – Built tough, safe, and affordable. Search on Amazon and use code GUARDIAN15 for 15% off.Big Cottonwood Retrievers – Grant & Shari Hatch, quality Labrador breeding with proven hunt test and field pedigrees. www.bigcottonwoodretrievers.net(308) 289-6851

Matt Spiegel and Laurence Holmes opened their show by discussing Cubs fans' angst after the team was blown out by the Brewers on Saturday in Game 1 of the National League Division Series. After that, they shared their observations from a strange Sunday in the NFL as the Bears were on their bye.

Matt Spiegel and Laurence Holmes discussed Cubs fans' angst after the team was blown out by the Brewers on Saturday in Game 1 of the National League Division Series.

Listen to all my reddit storytime episodes in the background in this easy playlist: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL_wX8l9EBnOM303JyilY8TTSrLz2e2kRGThis is the Redditor podcast! Here you will find all of Redditor's best Reddit stories from his YouTube channel. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

This show is about that scary stuff you don't want to look at. We check out these waves together.

Artificial intelligence is reshaping the technology services landscape, with leading reports from IDC, Gartner, and new offerings from ServiceNow pointing to a future where managing AI sprawl becomes as critical as delivering AI capabilities themselves. High-performing channel partners are leaning into AI specialization, driving measurable outcomes for customers and fueling double-digit growth despite market pressures. At the same time, ServiceNow's “AI Experience” platform aims to consolidate fragmented AI tools, offering a unified interface that can streamline operations and reduce complexity. The broader market, according to Gartner, is accelerating rapidly, with spending on generative AI projected to surpass traditional software in the coming years—meaning providers who fail to deliver outcomes risk being left behind.Yet the rise of AI isn't all progress. Studies from Stanford, European labor groups, and cybersecurity organizations reveal a governance crisis brewing in workplaces. Workers are reporting a surge of “workslop”—AI-generated content that looks like productivity but creates no value—costing companies billions. Algorithmic management is eroding worker autonomy, while surveillance and data risks undermine trust in employers. To compound the problem, employees are increasingly feeding sensitive data into AI systems without adequate training, raising new security vulnerabilities. These trends highlight the urgent need for policies, training, and governance frameworks to ensure AI adds value instead of chaos.The disruption is also spilling into specific industries. In translation, human professionals are already being displaced as AI-driven tools gain adoption. WhatsApp's newly built-in translation capability demonstrates how “good enough” AI can be enough for most users, sidelining human expertise except in fields requiring deep cultural or contextual understanding. The translation sector serves as an early warning sign: as AI grows more capable, other professions—including legal research, finance, and customer support—face similar pressures. The lesson for providers is to help clients identify where AI is appropriate and where human oversight remains essential.Meanwhile, major vendors are steadily encroaching into IT services, redrawing the lines of what MSPs can offer. Acronis is embedding patch management into its backup suite, Slack is introducing AI-powered ticket deflection, GoTo and Nexthink are fusing support and analytics, and IBM is shifting developer tooling to its hosted cloud. Each move chips away at traditional MSP offerings, putting pressure on providers to adapt. The opportunity lies in integration and governance—helping customers unify fragmented tools, ensure compliance, and deliver outcomes that vendors alone cannot. For MSPs, the message is clear: evolve toward higher-value services, or risk being sidelined by the very vendors you once partnered with.Four things to know today00:00 From Growth to Governance: IDC, Gartner, and ServiceNow Show Where AI Is Headed for Partners and Customers05:07 AI at Work: “Workslop,” Surveillance, and Data Leaks Signal Rising Governance Crisis08:42 From WhatsApp to Workflows: AI Translation Disruption Signals Broader Job Shifts Ahead11:33 Vendors Expand Into IT Services: Acronis, Slack, IBM, and GoTo Redraw the MSP Value Line This is the Business of Tech.   Supported by: https://scalepad.com/dave/https://cometbackup.com/?utm_source=mspradio&utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=sponsorship Webinar:  https://bit.ly/msprmail All our Sponsors: https://businessof.tech/sponsors/ Do you want the show on your podcast app or the written versions of the stories? Subscribe to the Business of Tech: https://www.businessof.tech/subscribe/Looking for a link from the stories? The entire script of the show, with links to articles, are posted in each story on https://www.businessof.tech/ Support the show on Patreon: https://patreon.com/mspradio/ Want to be a guest on Business of Tech: Daily 10-Minute IT Services Insights? Send Dave Sobel a message on PodMatch, here: https://www.podmatch.com/hostdetailpreview/businessoftech Want our stuff? Cool Merch? Wear “Why Do We Care?” - Visit https://mspradio.myspreadshop.com Follow us on:LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/company/28908079/YouTube: https://youtube.com/mspradio/Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mspradionews/Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/mspradio/TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@businessoftechBluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/businessof.tech Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Is Fascism creeping toward the USA or is it already here? We'll hear about two books to help you decide. First fascism expert Jason Stanley on his book Erasing History; How Fascists Rewrite the Past to Control the Future. Then A Young Person's Guide to Fascism by illustrator Sue Coe and writer Stephen Eisenman which explores the threads of fascism in U.S. history and shows their baleful influence on today's foreign policy. Thursday at 6pm, rebroadcast Friday at 5am. Our feature is Know Your Rights with Michael Amash.

Astros Lose, Texans Lose… Mariners & Rangers Are Creeping Slowly, Oline Still Not There

Astros Lose, Texans Lose… Mariners & Rangers Are Creeping Slowly, Oline Still Not There

Today, we’re bringing you the best from the KUOW Newsroom… Federal Medicaid cuts are causing anxiety for a Bellevue family whose son has a disability. Local governments in Washington are using ChatGPT to do a lot. You can find it in social media posts, speeches, and even policy. And Washington’s beloved reptile zoo is closing this October. Families are rushing to say a final goodbye or a first hello to the favorite cold bloodied friends. We can only make Seattle Now because listeners support us. Tap here to make a gift and keep Seattle Now in your feed. Got questions about local news or story ideas to share? We want to hear from you! Email us at seattlenow@kuow.org, leave us a voicemail at (206) 616-6746 or leave us feedback online.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Why different types of turf could take longer to grow. When it's time to prune hydrangeas. Stopping unwanted chives from spreading. An increase in perennials dying across Minnesota. Planting around roots. Cleaning up crabapple trees. Using milk to water plants? Where to grow weigela in Minnesota? The best method to kill creeping Charlie. How to identify crab grass. The rule of 3 for mulching trees. The best time to cut back peonies. What is the brown dust that is sometimes seen on grass? Killing fungus on plants. Learn more from horticulturalist Laura Irish Hanson extension.umn.edu.

We talk the takeover of DC, the stakes in Intel & Nvidia, the redistricting push, the control of The Kennedy Center, the Bureau of Labor Statistics, and the meeting with Putin.   

Follow all of our content on https://jomboymedia.comUse code YANKS2025 for 10% off your next SeatGeek order*: https://seatgeek.onelink.me/RrnK/YANKS2025. Sponsored by SeatGeek. *Restrictions apply. Max $20 discountUpgrade your skincare routine at https://CalderaLab.com/YANKS and use code YANKS at checkout for 15% off your first order.Download the DraftKings Sportsbook app and use promo code JMBASEBALLGAMBLING PROBLEM? CALL 1-800-GAMBLER, (800) 327-5050 or visit gamblinghelplinema.org (MA). Call 877-8-HOPENY/text HOPENY (467369) (NY). Please Gamble Responsibly. 888-789-7777/visit ccpg.org (CT) or visit www.mdgamblinghelp.org (MD). 21+ and present in most states. (18+ DC/KY/NH/WY). Void in ONT/OR/NH. Eligibility restrictions apply. On behalf of Boot Hill Casino & Resort (KS). 1 per new customer. $5+ first-time bet req. Max. $200 issued as non-withdrawable Bonus Bets that expire in 7 days (168 hours). Stake removed from payout. Terms: sportsbook.draftkings.com/promos. Ends 9/29/25 at 11:59 PM ET. Sponsored by DK.+++++Timestamps:  0:00 Yankees SWEEP  3:40 Injury Updates6:40 Standings Check  12:20 Girardi was in Jimmy's Brain14:00 Yankees WIN Game 1  20:55 Huge Game 2 Win30:30 Yankees Finish the SWEEP  39:45 Volpe Got a Day Off!  44:30 Pride of the Yankees: Ben Rice 7 RBI Game!  48:05 Pride of the Yankees: Trent Grisham53:20 Yankee MFer55:50 Jasson Dominguez Hit Well, But HIs Lack of Defense Stuck Out  1:06:40 Jose Caballero Started All Three Games!  1:14:25 McMahon Got His First Homer!  1:19:05 Paul Goldchmidt Avoids the IL  1:21:45 Gil and Fried Thoughts  1:23:45 Aaron Judge  Voicemail Line: ‪(908) 845-5792‬

This week, we are pleased to be joined by ⁠George Glass⁠, Associate Managing Director of ⁠Kroll⁠'s Cyber Risk business, as he is discussing their research on Scattered Spider and their targeting of insurance companies. While Scattered Spider has recently turned its attention to the airline industry, George focuses on the broader trend of the group's industry-by-industry approach and what that means for defenders across sectors. George and Dave discuss the group's history, their self-identification as a cartel, and their increasingly aggressive tactics, including the use of fear-based social engineering, physical threats, and the recruitment of insiders at telecom providers. They also examine how organizations—especially those with vulnerabilities similar to past targets—can proactively defend against this threat and prepare an effective response if their industry becomes the next focus. Complete our annual ⁠⁠audience survey⁠⁠ before August 31. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

From the BBC World Service: The annual inflation rate in the United Kingdom clocked in higher than expected in the month of June, at 3.6%. Much of inflation's stickiness there has to do with rising food and gasoline prices. Meanwhile, U.K. Chancellor Rachel Reeves announced steps to encourage people to invest in stocks and shares. Also on today's show: a look at why Cuba's labor minister has resigned and more tariff news for Indonesia and Brazil.