Podcasts about encrypted

Pigeon spies, Corporate spy adventures, Cuban revelations, Biography of a spy, Military dolphins, Secret Service secrets, Encrypted saxophones.

Did Iranian state media just confess to attempting to assassinate Donald Trump at Butler?

What was really on Thomas Crooks' phone? Who was he communicating with, and why did the FBI claim there was “nothing there”?

Why is Minneapolis at the center of chaos involving ICE, violent crime, and political defiance?

Weekly Recap: Encrypted Teaser Trailer, One Piece Finds Chopper, Sakamoto Days Season 2, Labubu Gets Director. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

A multi-topic MacVoices Live! discussion touches on the growing pains of predictive markets after disputes over Time's Person of the Year, raising questions about gambling, rules, and manipulation. Chuck Joiner, Brian Flanigan-Arthurs, Marty Jencius, Eric Bolden, David Ginsburg, Web Bixby, and Jim Rea also debates proposed age-verification requirements for online content, concerns over data retention and privacy, new calls for social-media disclosures from travelers, and what Alan Dye's departure could mean for Apple's interface direction.  "The Antigravity A1 is the world's first 8K 360 drone, it's genuinely a game-changer. You get full immersive flight with the goggles, insanely intuitive controls, and endless creative freedom in editing.If you're thinking about buying a drone, make it this one. Check out the link in our show notes and get a free landing pad with your order!"https://www.antigravity.tech/drone/antigravity-a1/buy?utm_term=macvoices Show Notes: Chapters: [0:00] Predictive markets and AI controversy[6:42] Gambling, manipulation, and rule disputes[7:50] Age verification and online privacy risks[19:47] Social media data demands for travelers[28:10] Encrypted alternatives and Proton tools[29:51] Alan Dye's departure and Apple design impact[36:53] Interface consistency across Apple platforms Links: Kalshi users are in an uproar over their Time 'Person of the Year' betshttps://www.fastcompany.com/91459584/kalshi-polymarket-time-magazine-artificial-intelligence-sam-altman Apple and Google will be asked to block nude photos unless user age is verifiedhttps://9to5mac.com/2025/12/15/apple-and-google-will-be-asked-to-block-nude-photos-unless-user-age-is-verified/ App age verification in action: What you share and who gets your informationhttps://9to5mac.com/2025/12/11/app-age-verification-in-action-what-you-share-and-who-gets-your-information/ U.S. will require some tourists to hand over 5 years of social mediahttps://www.fastcompany.com/91458104/u-s-will-require-some-tourists-to-hand-over-5-years-of-social-media Why Travel to the U.S. Feels Harder Than It Should: The Real Story Behind Social Media Screening and TSA Delayshttps://johnnyjet.com/why-travel-to-the-u-s-feels-harder-than-it-should-the-real-story-behind-social-media-screening-and-tsa-delays/ Guests: Web Bixby has been in the insurance business for 40 years and has been an Apple user for longer than that.You can catch up with him on Facebook, Twitter, and LinkedIn, but prefers Bluesky. Eric Bolden is into macOS, plants, sci-fi, food, and is a rural internet supporter. You can connect with him on Twitter, by email at embolden@mac.com, on Mastodon at @eabolden@techhub.social, on his blog, Trending At Work, and as co-host on The Vision ProFiles podcast. Brian Flanigan-Arthurs is an educator with a passion for providing results-driven, innovative learning strategies for all students, but particularly those who are at-risk. He is also a tech enthusiast who has a particular affinity for Apple since he first used the Apple IIGS as a student. You can contact Brian on twitter as @brian8944. He also recently opened a Mastodon account at @brian8944@mastodon.cloud. David Ginsburg is the host of the weekly podcast In Touch With iOS where he discusses all things iOS, iPhone, iPad, Apple TV, Apple Watch, and related technologies. He is an IT professional supporting Mac, iOS and Windows users. Visit his YouTube channel at https://youtube.com/daveg65 and find and follow him on Twitter @daveg65 and on Mastodon at @daveg65@mastodon.cloud. Dr. Marty Jencius has been an Associate Professor of Counseling at Kent State University since 2000. He has over 120 publications in books, chapters, journal articles, and others, along with 200 podcasts related to counseling, counselor education, and faculty life. His technology interest led him to develop the counseling profession ‘firsts,' including listservs, a web-based peer-reviewed journal, The Journal of Technology in Counseling, teaching and conferencing in virtual worlds as the founder of Counselor Education in Second Life, and podcast founder/producer of CounselorAudioSource.net and ThePodTalk.net. Currently, he produces a podcast about counseling and life questions, the Circular Firing Squad, and digital video interviews with legacies capturing the history of the counseling field. This is also co-host of The Vision ProFiles podcast. Generally, Marty is chasing the newest tech trends, which explains his interest in A.I. for teaching, research, and productivity. Marty is an active presenter and past president of the NorthEast Ohio Apple Corp (NEOAC). Jim Rea built his own computer from scratch in 1975, started programming in 1977, and has been an independent Mac developer continuously since 1984. He is the founder of ProVUE Development, and the author of Panorama X, ProVUE's ultra fast RAM based database software for the macOS platform. He's been a speaker at MacTech, MacWorld Expo and other industry conferences. Follow Jim at provue.com and via @provuejim@techhub.social on Mastodon. Support:      Become a MacVoices Patron on Patreon     http://patreon.com/macvoices      Enjoy this episode? Make a one-time donation with PayPal Connect:      Web:     http://macvoices.com      Twitter:     http://www.twitter.com/chuckjoiner     http://www.twitter.com/macvoices      Mastodon:     https://mastodon.cloud/@chuckjoiner      Facebook:     http://www.facebook.com/chuck.joiner      MacVoices Page on Facebook:     http://www.facebook.com/macvoices/      MacVoices Group on Facebook:     http://www.facebook.com/groups/macvoice      LinkedIn:     https://www.linkedin.com/in/chuckjoiner/      Instagram:     https://www.instagram.com/chuckjoiner/ Subscribe:      Audio in iTunes     Video in iTunes      Subscribe manually via iTunes or any podcatcher:      Audio: http://www.macvoices.com/rss/macvoicesrss      Video: http://www.macvoices.com/rss/macvoicesvideorss

A multi-topic MacVoices Live! discussion touches on the growing pains of predictive markets after disputes over Time's Person of the Year, raising questions about gambling, rules, and manipulation. Chuck Joiner, Brian Flanigan-Arthurs, Marty Jencius, Eric Bolden, David Ginsburg, Web Bixby, and Jim Rea also debates proposed age-verification requirements for online content, concerns over data retention and privacy, new calls for social-media disclosures from travelers, and what Alan Dye's departure could mean for Apple's interface direction.  "The Antigravity A1 is the world's first 8K 360 drone, it's genuinely a game-changer. You get full immersive flight with the goggles, insanely intuitive controls, and endless creative freedom in editing.If you're thinking about buying a drone, make it this one. Check out the link in our show notes and get a free landing pad with your order!" https://www.antigravity.tech/drone/antigravity-a1/buy?utm_term=macvoices Show Notes: Chapters: [0:00] Predictive markets and AI controversy [6:42] Gambling, manipulation, and rule disputes [7:50] Age verification and online privacy risks [19:47] Social media data demands for travelers [28:10] Encrypted alternatives and Proton tools [29:51] Alan Dye's departure and Apple design impact [36:53] Interface consistency across Apple platforms Links: Kalshi users are in an uproar over their Time 'Person of the Year' bets https://www.fastcompany.com/91459584/kalshi-polymarket-time-magazine-artificial-intelligence-sam-altman Apple and Google will be asked to block nude photos unless user age is verified https://9to5mac.com/2025/12/15/apple-and-google-will-be-asked-to-block-nude-photos-unless-user-age-is-verified/ App age verification in action: What you share and who gets your information https://9to5mac.com/2025/12/11/app-age-verification-in-action-what-you-share-and-who-gets-your-information/ U.S. will require some tourists to hand over 5 years of social media https://www.fastcompany.com/91458104/u-s-will-require-some-tourists-to-hand-over-5-years-of-social-media Why Travel to the U.S. Feels Harder Than It Should: The Real Story Behind Social Media Screening and TSA Delays https://johnnyjet.com/why-travel-to-the-u-s-feels-harder-than-it-should-the-real-story-behind-social-media-screening-and-tsa-delays/ Guests: Web Bixby has been in the insurance business for 40 years and has been an Apple user for longer than that.You can catch up with him on Facebook, Twitter, and LinkedIn, but prefers Bluesky. Eric Bolden is into macOS, plants, sci-fi, food, and is a rural internet supporter. You can connect with him on Twitter, by email at embolden@mac.com, on Mastodon at @eabolden@techhub.social, on his blog, Trending At Work, and as co-host on The Vision ProFiles podcast. Brian Flanigan-Arthurs is an educator with a passion for providing results-driven, innovative learning strategies for all students, but particularly those who are at-risk. He is also a tech enthusiast who has a particular affinity for Apple since he first used the Apple IIGS as a student. You can contact Brian on twitter as @brian8944. He also recently opened a Mastodon account at @brian8944@mastodon.cloud. David Ginsburg is the host of the weekly podcast In Touch With iOS where he discusses all things iOS, iPhone, iPad, Apple TV, Apple Watch, and related technologies. He is an IT professional supporting Mac, iOS and Windows users. Visit his YouTube channel at https://youtube.com/daveg65 and find and follow him on Twitter @daveg65 and on Mastodon at @daveg65@mastodon.cloud. Dr. Marty Jencius has been an Associate Professor of Counseling at Kent State University since 2000. He has over 120 publications in books, chapters, journal articles, and others, along with 200 podcasts related to counseling, counselor education, and faculty life. His technology interest led him to develop the counseling profession 'firsts,' including listservs, a web-based peer-reviewed journal, The Journal of Technology in Counseling, teaching and conferencing in virtual worlds as the founder of Counselor Education in Second Life, and podcast founder/producer of CounselorAudioSource.net and ThePodTalk.net. Currently, he produces a podcast about counseling and life questions, the Circular Firing Squad, and digital video interviews with legacies capturing the history of the counseling field. This is also co-host of The Vision ProFiles podcast. Generally, Marty is chasing the newest tech trends, which explains his interest in A.I. for teaching, research, and productivity. Marty is an active presenter and past president of the NorthEast Ohio Apple Corp (NEOAC). Jim Rea built his own computer from scratch in 1975, started programming in 1977, and has been an independent Mac developer continuously since 1984. He is the founder of ProVUE Development, and the author of Panorama X, ProVUE's ultra fast RAM based database software for the macOS platform. He's been a speaker at MacTech, MacWorld Expo and other industry conferences. Follow Jim at provue.com and via @provuejim@techhub.social on Mastodon. Support:      Become a MacVoices Patron on Patreon      http://patreon.com/macvoices      Enjoy this episode? Make a one-time donation with PayPal Connect:      Web:      http://macvoices.com      Twitter:      http://www.twitter.com/chuckjoiner      http://www.twitter.com/macvoices      Mastodon:      https://mastodon.cloud/@chuckjoiner      Facebook:      http://www.facebook.com/chuck.joiner      MacVoices Page on Facebook:      http://www.facebook.com/macvoices/      MacVoices Group on Facebook:      http://www.facebook.com/groups/macvoice      LinkedIn:      https://www.linkedin.com/in/chuckjoiner/      Instagram:      https://www.instagram.com/chuckjoiner/ Subscribe:      Audio in iTunes      Video in iTunes      Subscribe manually via iTunes or any podcatcher:      Audio: http://www.macvoices.com/rss/macvoicesrss      Video: http://www.macvoices.com/rss/macvoicesvideorss

In this reflection I explore a radio as a "vehicle" exploring two metaphors: a) Growth; and b) Encrypted communications.   Supporting themes:  Metaphors (significant and basic); Cell (a metaphor for systems theory); RICO law (a metaphor for psychologically harmful systems); Spaceship launch (a metaphor for outgrowing friends); Learning theory and growth; Songwriting; Emotional awareness; Emotional growth; Emotional needs; Responsible self acceptance; An evolving/maturing thesis (T0; T1; etc).    Special note:  The second metaphor (regarding encrypted communications) was rushed and incomplete (I ran out of time). I am looking forward to returning so I can linger in it and discover its hidden goodies.     Typology:  INTJ8; Ni; Te; Fi; Type 8 and Type 5. 

Lazy electro track for a winter end of year afternoon. Didn't expect that much music. Encrypted samples.... From the album "Spares EP".

A newspaper article, citing multiple sources, accuses Prime Minister Anthony Albanese's government of increasingly relying on encrypted messenger services such as Signal — both for internal communication and in exchange with non-government representatives. The coverage comes at a time when the government has already been criticised for planned reforms of freedom of information laws. - Ein Zeitungsartikel wirft unter Berufung auf mehrere Quellen der Regierung von Premier Anthony Albanese vor, zunehmend auf verschlüsselte Messenger-Dienste wie Signal zu setzen – sowohl für interne Kommunikation als auch im Austausch mit nicht Regierungsvertreter*innen. Die Berichterstattung fällt in eine Zeit, in der die Regierung ohnehin für geplante Reformen der Informationsfreiheitsgesetze kritisiert wird.

My thoughts are, I'm making you miserable It just doesn't mean as much I can't catch a break, I guess Chipmunk in cheekbones And missing this presence It's never escape this dismensions Or never dealing the message Or never just getting the lesson Move past it, It's kept in a box That has locks more secure than your mess is Entire apartments. From the start the argument has been, if not about this, than what? If not about us, than when? Or who? You should have been accomplished; Compliments to the chef, If you can cross this off your checklist You might have even made it To the age inside the matrix. It's just a broken down truck A whole damn box of tools You lose yourself and pretend You don't forget to use, But it's just useless Lower dosage, Pay the tip and pay the postage Post matron mortal, A whole box A whole box of chocolate Lost on your Botox Oh, but we're friends now? No. Robots in a digital world, Only programmed to carry out certain tasks, And then vanish. I dig up your past, and then replaced it with a mattress And a box of matches; Whoever does it next can have it— How they're making hatchbacks out of plastic, I can't manage, But it's fascinating. —The edit effect. Good to see I'm not the only one who noticed— turns out I am a trendsetter, trendsetter Now inaction doesn't really make the pain better But the strain of sweat and tears will make my bed wetter. Just a clip— The college kids don't know the difference It's just a temporary love because I'm friendless— The predicate of this is that the people never get it. As it happens, once I'm past it But let's have a laugh at medicine Inside my head and bring it back again, The panic So much for tall dark and handsome When it's decided that I want something Everyone does sure follow I am a trendsetter. Go back and get the song back, Jack Johnson For nine seasons I was Kevin Nealon, Ten since tent cities and intensities— Oh, there are English pubs? I only had the Irish, Blimey. Ten times limon, Rice and beans and I'm convinced I'm dying Cut my eye out Blood and ribbons, tenements and genre binders Television friends and Lipton dipping into Hot boiling water Have a monologue prepared And mother? Never talk about her. Tip the tooth fairy, bet she does her job Your wings are growing out in February Never leave the nest, dear Gotta wait till next year. These printers and prenups are dripping in women It's finally winter with little indifference To the matter at hand; You're well enough dressed But wet and soaked in raw sewage Standing in your ankle socks, You wanker. An addendum to all my ever living misses And these premium obsessions, So neglect the data that you entered, Even for a minute, introspections, Get the limit in but never medicine the mister You probably should have been there— It wasn't your decision. Encrypted sir, For heaven's sense, I love a good caricature But Heaven hasn't said a sentence since just after dinner When the strict caloric deficit set in With all the evidence collected. This is what become of the avoidance, I have to cut you out and then in the way, I guess I get rewarded but it shouldn't ever hurt this much just moving forward It really shouldn't ever hurt this much just moving forward. Apologies to Matt Damon, I am in pain And then the very subtle finger tips I will admit Could calm me down a bit I panic at the passkey woven case If all these baseless claims And waves of delusional grandeur; You can love that but never afford it How and arrow in a stray hat The fact is, I'm just a madman And a phantom And yet The cracks in the mask have been detected— An internet trend that I can pretend I hadn't mentioned to my artificial intelligence, Then again Curiosity let the cat out of the bag, But couldn't for a second bring him to have the heart to kill him. How many mistakes can I make in just this commercial break— They're breaking my heart from the land of the lost! You can beat the boss, but there's just another one You can play the game, but you can't turn it off— You get more lives than one, But I promise, you wouldn't want them It just gets harder, I walk on quantum physics Mystified by Wall Street, we all learn to die at once To become what we always wanted; Peace and nothingness, the power to see beyond screens, Out of the box where the state of the art Is the way of the world, And never the opposite. So I shared my toy With every other girl and boy Inside the World Wide Web Who wanted playing with it Guess you could say in a way I am giving, On the prejudice That all I'll ever get is just a glimpse or image With respect To turning my eyes backwards before it gets to damage any valuables. Those assholes. forgetmenots. // II. follow through. Unreleased TBA Symposium. [As Seen On TV] TBA 2025/2026 Composed by C'cxell Solïel Prod By -Ū. DBA Blü Tha Gürū 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

My thoughts are, I'm making you miserable It just doesn't mean as much I can't catch a break, I guess Chipmunk in cheekbones And missing this presence It's never escape this dismensions Or never dealing the message Or never just getting the lesson Move past it, It's kept in a box That has locks more secure than your mess is Entire apartments. From the start the argument has been, if not about this, than what? If not about us, than when? Or who? You should have been accomplished; Compliments to the chef, If you can cross this off your checklist You might have even made it To the age inside the matrix. It's just a broken down truck A whole damn box of tools You lose yourself and pretend You don't forget to use, But it's just useless Lower dosage, Pay the tip and pay the postage Post matron mortal, A whole box A whole box of chocolate Lost on your Botox Oh, but we're friends now? No. Robots in a digital world, Only programmed to carry out certain tasks, And then vanish. I dig up your past, and then replaced it with a mattress And a box of matches; Whoever does it next can have it— How they're making hatchbacks out of plastic, I can't manage, But it's fascinating. —The edit effect. Good to see I'm not the only one who noticed— turns out I am a trendsetter, trendsetter Now inaction doesn't really make the pain better But the strain of sweat and tears will make my bed wetter. Just a clip— The college kids don't know the difference It's just a temporary love because I'm friendless— The predicate of this is that the people never get it. As it happens, once I'm past it But let's have a laugh at medicine Inside my head and bring it back again, The panic So much for tall dark and handsome When it's decided that I want something Everyone does sure follow I am a trendsetter. Go back and get the song back, Jack Johnson For nine seasons I was Kevin Nealon, Ten since tent cities and intensities— Oh, there are English pubs? I only had the Irish, Blimey. Ten times limon, Rice and beans and I'm convinced I'm dying Cut my eye out Blood and ribbons, tenements and genre binders Television friends and Lipton dipping into Hot boiling water Have a monologue prepared And mother? Never talk about her. Tip the tooth fairy, bet she does her job Your wings are growing out in February Never leave the nest, dear Gotta wait till next year. These printers and prenups are dripping in women It's finally winter with little indifference To the matter at hand; You're well enough dressed But wet and soaked in raw sewage Standing in your ankle socks, You wanker. An addendum to all my ever living misses And these premium obsessions, So neglect the data that you entered, Even for a minute, introspections, Get the limit in but never medicine the mister You probably should have been there— It wasn't your decision. Encrypted sir, For heaven's sense, I love a good caricature But Heaven hasn't said a sentence since just after dinner When the strict caloric deficit set in With all the evidence collected. This is what become of the avoidance, I have to cut you out and then in the way, I guess I get rewarded but it shouldn't ever hurt this much just moving forward It really shouldn't ever hurt this much just moving forward. Apologies to Matt Damon, I am in pain And then the very subtle finger tips I will admit Could calm me down a bit I panic at the passkey woven case If all these baseless claims And waves of delusional grandeur; You can love that but never afford it How and arrow in a stray hat The fact is, I'm just a madman And a phantom And yet The cracks in the mask have been detected— An internet trend that I can pretend I hadn't mentioned to my artificial intelligence, Then again Curiosity let the cat out of the bag, But couldn't for a second bring him to have the heart to kill him. How many mistakes can I make in just this commercial break— They're breaking my heart from the land of the lost! You can beat the boss, but there's just another one You can play the game, but you can't turn it off— You get more lives than one, But I promise, you wouldn't want them It just gets harder, I walk on quantum physics Mystified by Wall Street, we all learn to die at once To become what we always wanted; Peace and nothingness, the power to see beyond screens, Out of the box where the state of the art Is the way of the world, And never the opposite. So I shared my toy With every other girl and boy Inside the World Wide Web Who wanted playing with it Guess you could say in a way I am giving, On the prejudice That all I'll ever get is just a glimpse or image With respect To turning my eyes backwards before it gets to damage any valuables. Those assholes. forgetmenots. // II. follow through. Unreleased TBA Symposium. [As Seen On TV] TBA 2025/2026 Composed by C'cxell Solïel Prod By -Ū. DBA Blü Tha Gürū 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

My thoughts are, I'm making you miserable It just doesn't mean as much I can't catch a break, I guess Chipmunk in cheekbones And missing this presence It's never escape this dismensions Or never dealing the message Or never just getting the lesson Move past it, It's kept in a box That has locks more secure than your mess is Entire apartments. From the start the argument has been, if not about this, than what? If not about us, than when? Or who? You should have been accomplished; Compliments to the chef, If you can cross this off your checklist You might have even made it To the age inside the matrix. It's just a broken down truck A whole damn box of tools You lose yourself and pretend You don't forget to use, But it's just useless Lower dosage, Pay the tip and pay the postage Post matron mortal, A whole box A whole box of chocolate Lost on your Botox Oh, but we're friends now? No. Robots in a digital world, Only programmed to carry out certain tasks, And then vanish. I dig up your past, and then replaced it with a mattress And a box of matches; Whoever does it next can have it— How they're making hatchbacks out of plastic, I can't manage, But it's fascinating. —The edit effect. Good to see I'm not the only one who noticed— turns out I am a trendsetter, trendsetter Now inaction doesn't really make the pain better But the strain of sweat and tears will make my bed wetter. Just a clip— The college kids don't know the difference It's just a temporary love because I'm friendless— The predicate of this is that the people never get it. As it happens, once I'm past it But let's have a laugh at medicine Inside my head and bring it back again, The panic So much for tall dark and handsome When it's decided that I want something Everyone does sure follow I am a trendsetter. Go back and get the song back, Jack Johnson For nine seasons I was Kevin Nealon, Ten since tent cities and intensities— Oh, there are English pubs? I only had the Irish, Blimey. Ten times limon, Rice and beans and I'm convinced I'm dying Cut my eye out Blood and ribbons, tenements and genre binders Television friends and Lipton dipping into Hot boiling water Have a monologue prepared And mother? Never talk about her. Tip the tooth fairy, bet she does her job Your wings are growing out in February Never leave the nest, dear Gotta wait till next year. These printers and prenups are dripping in women It's finally winter with little indifference To the matter at hand; You're well enough dressed But wet and soaked in raw sewage Standing in your ankle socks, You wanker. An addendum to all my ever living misses And these premium obsessions, So neglect the data that you entered, Even for a minute, introspections, Get the limit in but never medicine the mister You probably should have been there— It wasn't your decision. Encrypted sir, For heaven's sense, I love a good caricature But Heaven hasn't said a sentence since just after dinner When the strict caloric deficit set in With all the evidence collected. This is what become of the avoidance, I have to cut you out and then in the way, I guess I get rewarded but it shouldn't ever hurt this much just moving forward It really shouldn't ever hurt this much just moving forward. Apologies to Matt Damon, I am in pain And then the very subtle finger tips I will admit Could calm me down a bit I panic at the passkey woven case If all these baseless claims And waves of delusional grandeur; You can love that but never afford it How and arrow in a stray hat The fact is, I'm just a madman And a phantom And yet The cracks in the mask have been detected— An internet trend that I can pretend I hadn't mentioned to my artificial intelligence, Then again Curiosity let the cat out of the bag, But couldn't for a second bring him to have the heart to kill him. How many mistakes can I make in just this commercial break— They're breaking my heart from the land of the lost! You can beat the boss, but there's just another one You can play the game, but you can't turn it off— You get more lives than one, But I promise, you wouldn't want them It just gets harder, I walk on quantum physics Mystified by Wall Street, we all learn to die at once To become what we always wanted; Peace and nothingness, the power to see beyond screens, Out of the box where the state of the art Is the way of the world, And never the opposite. So I shared my toy With every other girl and boy Inside the World Wide Web Who wanted playing with it Guess you could say in a way I am giving, On the prejudice That all I'll ever get is just a glimpse or image With respect To turning my eyes backwards before it gets to damage any valuables. Those assholes. forgetmenots. // II. follow through. Unreleased TBA Symposium. [As Seen On TV] TBA 2025/2026 Composed by C'cxell Solïel Prod By -Ū. DBA Blü Tha Gürū 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

Ethereum is transparent by design, and that's a problem if you don't want your entire financial life on display. Rand Hindi, co-founder of Zama, joins us to explain how fully homomorphic encryption (FHE) can turn Ethereum into an encrypted, confidential blockchain where contracts stay composable and UX feels exactly the same. We get into why blockchains were public in the first place, why “anonymous addresses” were never enough, how FHE compares to ZK and MPC, and what a world of private DeFi, encrypted stablecoins, and on-chain “digital immortality” could look like.  ------

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.

Sturnus Android Trojan captures encrypted chats and hijacks devices Canadian regulators say schools share blame for PowerSchool hack Bill reintroduced to bolster cybersecurity at Securities and Exchange Commission Huge thanks to our episode sponsor, KnowBe4 Your email gateway isn't catching everything — and cybercriminals know it. That's why there's KnowBe4's Cloud Email Security platform. It's not just another filter—it's a dynamic, AI-powered layer of defense that detects and stops advanced threats before they reach your users' inbox. Request a demo of KnowBe4's Cloud Email Security at knowbe4.com or visit them this week at Microsoft Ignite booth #5523. Find the stories behind the headlines at CISOseries.com.

In this episode I am joined by a dear friend, artist, poet, philosopher, and all around magical human being Matthew John Betzalel Bivalacqua. In this episode we discuss his deeply personal art process and its relationship to memory, emotion, and spiritual experience. His works explores a fresh approach to still life and the power of personal symbols encased in memory. ------------------Matthew John Betzalel Bivalacqua was born in Metairie LA, 1981. In 2015 he received his undergraduate degrees from the University of New Orleans, in Fine Arts and Philosophy. In 2018 Matthew John received his Master of Fine Arts degree from the University of New Orleans. After converting to Judaism, in 2021, Matthew John was awarded an artist fellowship from Pardes Institute of Jewish Learning, in Jerusalem, where he held poetry workshops.Matthew John's process draws subject matter from his narrative, to express a sentiment, a historical relation, or convey an identity beyond an object's or environment's manufactured function. The surfaces he creates are technical manipulations of traditional practices for applying mediums. Some of his influences are Van Gogh's still lifes and David Hockney's joiner photographs.WebsiteInstagram Follow Martin Benson for more insights:*To stay updated on the podcast and related content, check out ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠my Instagram⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠*To support the show and access exclusive content, consider subscribing for $0.99/month on Instagram (link above).Credits: Special thanks to Matthew Blankenship of ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠The Sometimes Island⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ for our podcast theme music!Support this podcast: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/martin-l-benson/support

They tried to erase him from history.But some systems are designed to resurrect themselves.The Epstein Emails aren't just messages—they're a map of manipulation.Encrypted conversations between the elite, buried on private servers,designed to control governments, crush reputations, and silence truth.Tonight, we follow the trail of the deleted,the whispers between power and obedience,and the code that still runs the world from the shadows.Welcome to the inbox of the untouchable.Welcome to EPSTEIN EMAILS.

AI Daily News Rundown November 12 2025:Welcome to AI Unraveled, Your daily briefing on the real world business impact of AI

Honeypot Requests for Code Repository Attackers continue to scan websites for source code repositories. Keep your repositories outside your document root and proactively scan your own sites. https://isc.sans.edu/diary/Honeypot%3A%20Requests%20for%20%28Code%29%20Repositories/32460 Malicious NuGet Packages Deliver Time-Delayed Destructive Payloads Newly discovered malicious .NET packages attempt to deliver a time-delayed attack targeting ICS systems. https://socket.dev/blog/9-malicious-nuget-packages-deliver-time-delayed-destructive-payloads Side Channel Leaks in Encrypted Traffic to LLMs Traffic to LLMs can be profiled to discover the nature of prompts sent by a user based on the amount and structure of the encrypted data. https://www.microsoft.com/en-us/security/blog/2025/11/07/whisper-leak-a-novel-side-channel-cyberattack-on-remote-language-models/

The second part of our conversation with Scott Morrison, Scott Little, and Beth Wall of MailMaven and Joe Kissell of Take Control Books,  explores token-based search, a separate global search window, and smart mailboxes/rules with nested criteria. They explain how the conversation map tames complex threads, while a keyboard-first design speeds filing and actions, and detail a privacy-by-design approach—local data, encrypted metadata sync, and built-in PGP—and explain onboarding, documentation, and dynamic, scriptable signatures. (Part 2)  This edition of MacVoices is brought to you by the MacVoices Dispatch, our weekly newsletter that keeps you up-to-date on any and all MacVoices-related information. Subscribe today and don't miss a thing. Show Notes: Chapters: [0:00] Part 2 intro and setup[0:49] Token-based search with suggestions[2:11] Power user search syntax and filters[4:04] Mailbox filter vs. global search window[5:31] Advanced tokens menu and options[7:38] Smart mailboxes with nested criteria[8:50] Nested rules and complex logic[10:17] Conversation threading pain points[10:55] Conversation map and full-thread view[13:20] Per-message vs. whole-thread actions[16:34] Security model and local-only email data[17:23] Encrypted metadata sync and keys[19:53] Built-in PGP vs. extensions; S/MIME plans[23:09] Limits of email security in the real world[28:08] Docs vs. Take Control book: how to start[30:05] Dynamic signatures and real-world examples Links: SpamSieve Take Control of MailMaven by Joe Kissell (free!) Guests: Beth Wall is perhaps the main ingredient in the glue that has formed SmallCubed. Beth brings experience in systems' adminstration, databases and networking. Beth streamlines our SmallCubed workflows, builds websites, maintains our support systems and stores and cracks the whip. She has also played a key role in the organization of the Çingleton conferences in Montreal Scott Little is based in Gdansk, Poland and the founder of Little Known Software. He has worked in software development for over 20 years and has specialized in the development of plugins for Apple's Mail.app for over 10 years. Scott has collaborated with other prominant Mail Plugin companies, such as Creative In Austria, and Feingeist Software and brought Little Known's products SignatureProfiler and Tealeaves to SmallCubed. He is our back-end wizard an server go-to guy. Scott Morrison of Vancouver Island, Canada, developed Mail Act-On in 2004 and MailTags in 2005 and hasn't looked back. The product suite of MailTags, Mail Act-On and MailPerspectives is use by thousands of Mac users daily to bring sanity and fluidity to their email workflows. Scott Morrison has also been actively involved in the Mac Indie Developer Community as a speaker at several conferences and a co-founder of the Çingleton Conference in Montreal. Support:      Become a MacVoices Patron on Patreon     http://patreon.com/macvoices      Enjoy this episode? Make a one-time donation with PayPal Connect:      Web:     http://macvoices.com      Twitter:     http://www.twitter.com/chuckjoiner     http://www.twitter.com/macvoices      Mastodon:     https://mastodon.cloud/@chuckjoiner      Facebook:     http://www.facebook.com/chuck.joiner      MacVoices Page on Facebook:     http://www.facebook.com/macvoices/      MacVoices Group on Facebook:     http://www.facebook.com/groups/macvoice      LinkedIn:     https://www.linkedin.com/in/chuckjoiner/      Instagram:     https://www.instagram.com/chuckjoiner/ Subscribe:      Audio in iTunes     Video in iTunes      Subscribe manually via iTunes or any podcatcher:      Audio: http://www.macvoices.com/rss/macvoicesrss      Video: http://www.macvoices.com/rss/macvoicesvideorss

The second part of our conversation with Scott Morrison, Scott Little, and Beth Wall of MailMaven and Joe Kissell of Take Control Books,  explores token-based search, a separate global search window, and smart mailboxes/rules with nested criteria. They explain how the conversation map tames complex threads, while a keyboard-first design speeds filing and actions, and detail a privacy-by-design approach—local data, encrypted metadata sync, and built-in PGP—and explain onboarding, documentation, and dynamic, scriptable signatures. (Part 2)  This edition of MacVoices is brought to you by the MacVoices Dispatch, our weekly newsletter that keeps you up-to-date on any and all MacVoices-related information. Subscribe today and don't miss a thing. Show Notes: Chapters: [0:00] Part 2 intro and setup [0:49] Token-based search with suggestions [2:11] Power user search syntax and filters [4:04] Mailbox filter vs. global search window [5:31] Advanced tokens menu and options [7:38] Smart mailboxes with nested criteria [8:50] Nested rules and complex logic [10:17] Conversation threading pain points [10:55] Conversation map and full-thread view [13:20] Per-message vs. whole-thread actions [16:34] Security model and local-only email data [17:23] Encrypted metadata sync and keys [19:53] Built-in PGP vs. extensions; S/MIME plans [23:09] Limits of email security in the real world [28:08] Docs vs. Take Control book: how to start [30:05] Dynamic signatures and real-world examples Links: SpamSieve Take Control of MailMaven by Joe Kissell (free!) Guests: Beth Wall is perhaps the main ingredient in the glue that has formed SmallCubed. Beth brings experience in systems' adminstration, databases and networking. Beth streamlines our SmallCubed workflows, builds websites, maintains our support systems and stores and cracks the whip. She has also played a key role in the organization of the Çingleton conferences in Montreal Scott Little is based in Gdansk, Poland and the founder of Little Known Software. He has worked in software development for over 20 years and has specialized in the development of plugins for Apple's Mail.app for over 10 years. Scott has collaborated with other prominant Mail Plugin companies, such as Creative In Austria, and Feingeist Software and brought Little Known's products SignatureProfiler and Tealeaves to SmallCubed. He is our back-end wizard an server go-to guy. Scott Morrison of Vancouver Island, Canada, developed Mail Act-On in 2004 and MailTags in 2005 and hasn't looked back. The product suite of MailTags, Mail Act-On and MailPerspectives is use by thousands of Mac users daily to bring sanity and fluidity to their email workflows. Scott Morrison has also been actively involved in the Mac Indie Developer Community as a speaker at several conferences and a co-founder of the Çingleton Conference in Montreal. Support:      Become a MacVoices Patron on Patreon      http://patreon.com/macvoices      Enjoy this episode? Make a one-time donation with PayPal Connect:      Web:      http://macvoices.com      Twitter:      http://www.twitter.com/chuckjoiner      http://www.twitter.com/macvoices      Mastodon:      https://mastodon.cloud/@chuckjoiner      Facebook:      http://www.facebook.com/chuck.joiner      MacVoices Page on Facebook:      http://www.facebook.com/macvoices/      MacVoices Group on Facebook:      http://www.facebook.com/groups/macvoice      LinkedIn:      https://www.linkedin.com/in/chuckjoiner/      Instagram:      https://www.instagram.com/chuckjoiner/ Subscribe:      Audio in iTunes      Video in iTunes      Subscribe manually via iTunes or any podcatcher:      Audio: http://www.macvoices.com/rss/macvoicesrss      Video: http://www.macvoices.com/rss/macvoicesvideorss

Today we're going to talk about encrypted messenger apps, and we're going to talk about Signal, WhatsApp and Telegram and give you my opinion, and a lot of other opinions, on what's the best for you if you need to keep your information encrypted. In other words, secure. Screw The Commute Podcast Show Notes Episode 1052 How To Automate Your Business - https://screwthecommute.com/automatefree/ Internet Marketing Training Center - https://imtcva.org/ Higher Education Webinar – https://screwthecommute.com/webinars See Tom's Stuff – https://linktr.ee/antionandassociates 00:23 Tom's introduction to Encrypted Apps 01:45 These apps use End to End encryption 05:25 Nothing is 100% with these apps 07:29 The people you're chatting with need the same app Entrepreneurial Resources Mentioned in This Podcast Higher Education Webinar - https://screwthecommute.com/webinars Screw The Commute - https://screwthecommute.com/ Screw The Commute Podcast App - https://screwthecommute.com/app/ Screw The Commute Podcast Producer - https://screwthecommute.com/larryguerrera/ College Ripoff Quiz - https://imtcva.org/quiz Know a young person for our Youth Episode Series? Send an email to Tom! - orders@antion.com Have a Roku box? Find Tom's Public Speaking Channel there! - https://channelstore.roku.com/details/267358/the-public-speaking-channel How To Automate Your Business - https://screwthecommute.com/automatefree/ Internet Marketing Retreat and Joint Venture Program - https://greatinternetmarketingtraining.com/ This is the shopping cart system Tom uses! Kartra - https://screwthecommute.com/kartra/ Copywriting901 - https://copywriting901.com/ Become a Great Podcast Guest - https://screwthecommute.com/greatpodcastguest Training - https://screwthecommute.com/training Disabilities Page - https://imtcva.org/disabilities/ Tom's Patreon Page - https://screwthecommute.com/patreon/ Tom on TikTok - https://tiktok.com/@digitalmultimillionaire/ Email Tom: Tom@ScrewTheCommute.com Internet Marketing Training Center - https://imtcva.org/ Related Episodes Bananas - https://screwthecommute.com/1051/ More Entrepreneurial Resources for Home Based Business, Lifestyle Business, Passive Income, Professional Speaking and Online Business I discovered a great new headline / subject line / subheading generator that will actually analyze which headlines and subject lines are best for your market. I negotiated a deal with the developer of this revolutionary and inexpensive software. Oh, and it's good on Mac and PC. Go here: http://jvz1.com/c/41743/183906 The Wordpress Ecourse. Learn how to Make World Class Websites for $20 or less. https://screwthecommute.com/wordpressecourse/

Shakespeare's First Folio is an incredible historical treasure. It also might be an encrypted treasure map. According to the theories, the First Folio's secret code reveals the “real” Shakespeare author, a royal cover-up, a Freemason conspiracy, and of course, a map to priceless buried treasure. Treasure that may still be out there. Keep up with Conspiracy Theories! YouTube: ⁠⁠@ConspiracyTheoriesPodcast⁠⁠ Instagram: ⁠⁠@theconspiracypod⁠⁠ TikTok: ⁠⁠@conspiracy.pod Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Sean Bowe and Jack Grigg aka str4d are both cryptographic engineers working on the Zcash protocol. Sean's latest project is Tachyon, intended to bring encrypted money into the hands of 8 billion people. Topics we discuss are well captured by the timestamps below.Watch on YouTube or X. Listen on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or any other podcast platform. Follow me on X for updates on future episodes.Timestamps0:00 - Project Tachyon10:20 - Privacy can't be an afterthought for a protocol15:24 - Encrypted Bitcoin22:11 - Soundness bug in original sprout pool30:15 - Sapling33:00 - A decade of progress39:04 - Zcash's anonymity set51:29 - Using private money as a passthrough doesn't work56:04 - The importance of ledger indistinguishability58:30 - The ultimate privacy stack1:05:58 - Tachyon removes all cryptographic bottlenecks of encrypted money1:08:16 - What's next after Tachyon?1:15:25 - Weightless blockchains?1:18:24 - Ragu1:19:44 - What the next 12 months look like for Jack and Sean1:31:22 - “Everything worth doing is worth doing on ambitious timelines.” — Sean1:32:16 - Sean's advice for young engineers1:34:18 - What got Sean and Jack into Zcash? This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.arjunkhemani.com

00:00:00 - Képregények00:01:45 - Itt a hideg00:04:12 - EU-s törvényjavaslat az üzenetküldő alkalmazásokra00:08:35 - End-to-end encryption00:10:35 - Encrypted telefonok és beépített akkumulátorok00:18:33 - USB-C az iPhone Air-en és ProRes videó00:23:52 - Hoppá! Show00:26:58 - Vágott tartalmaink, változások és interakciók hiánya00:47:54 - YouTube Premierek00:52:07 - Befejezés

This is a recap of the top 10 posts on Hacker News on September 25, 2025. This podcast was generated by wondercraft.ai (00:30): ChatControl: EU wants to scan all private messages, even in encrypted appsOriginal post: https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=45374500&utm_source=wondercraft_ai(01:52): Microsoft blocks Israel's use of its tech in mass surveillance of PalestiniansOriginal post: https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=45373564&utm_source=wondercraft_ai(03:15): Death rates rose in hospital ERs after private equity firms took overOriginal post: https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=45372442&utm_source=wondercraft_ai(04:38): Cloudflare Email Service: private betaOriginal post: https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=45373081&utm_source=wondercraft_ai(06:01): The story of DOGE, as told by federal workersOriginal post: https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=45373102&utm_source=wondercraft_ai(07:24): ChatGPT PulseOriginal post: https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=45375477&utm_source=wondercraft_ai(08:46): Improved Gemini 2.5 Flash and Flash-LiteOriginal post: https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=45375845&utm_source=wondercraft_ai(10:09): Bundler Belongs to the Ruby CommunityOriginal post: https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=45371061&utm_source=wondercraft_ai(11:32): Knotty: A domain-specific language for knitting patternsOriginal post: https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=45369768&utm_source=wondercraft_ai(12:55): Demand for human radiologists is at an all-time highOriginal post: https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=45372335&utm_source=wondercraft_aiThis is a third-party project, independent from HN and YC. Text and audio generated using AI, by wondercraft.ai. Create your own studio quality podcast with text as the only input in seconds at app.wondercraft.ai. Issues or feedback? We'd love to hear from you: team@wondercraft.ai

Get your FREE Cybersecurity Salary Guide: https://www.infosecinstitute.com/form/cybersecurity-salary-guide-podcast/?utm_source=youtube&utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=podcastDavid Close, Chief Solutions Architect at Futurex, discusses the reality facing our digital world: quantum computing will soon break the encryption protecting everything from mobile banking to satellite communications. But here's the twist — hackers aren't waiting. They're harvesting encrypted data now, betting that quantum computers will eventually crack today's "unbreakable" codes in a strategy called "harvest now, decrypt later." David explains how NIST's new post-quantum cryptography standards are already being deployed by companies like Google and CloudFlare, why crypto agility is essential for future-proofing your security infrastructure, and how you can break into the exciting field of cryptography — even without a PhD in mathematics.0:00 - Intro 1:00 - Cybersecurity Salary Guide3:06 - Meet David Close from Futurex3:52 - David's journey from embedded systems to cryptography5:05 - What Futurex does and 40 years of crypto innovation6:39 - The role of Chief Solutions Architect8:21 - Evolution of cryptography from payments to enterprise10:13 - How David discovered his passion for cryptography13:23 - Post-quantum cryptography explained15:16 - Why quantum computers break current encryption16:05 - The "harvest now, decrypt later" threat18:19 - NIST's new quantum-resistant algorithms20:02 - Real-world quantum threats to satellites and IP22:43 - What organizations can do now25:25 - Crypto agility and future-proofing systems28:41 - Resources for staying current on cryptography30:45 - Career paths in cryptography beyond algorithm development32:18 - Getting started in cryptography careers34:26 - The cryptography landscape in 15 years37:34 - Regulatory enforcement of new crypto standards39:43 - Best career advice: Finding the right vehicle41:29 - David's current reading and recommendations42:35 - Where to find David and Futurex onlineView Cyber Work Podcast transcripts and additional episodes: https://www.infosecinstitute.com/podcast/?utm_source=youtube&utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=podcastAbout InfosecInfosec's mission is to put people at the center of cybersecurity. We help IT and security professionals advance their careers with skills development and certifications while empowering all employees with security awareness and phishing training to stay cyber-safe at work and home. More than 70% of the Fortune 500 have relied on Infosec to develop their security talent, and more than 5 million learners worldwide are more cyber-resilient from Infosec IQ's security awareness training. Learn more at infosecinstitute.com.

Germ's new app lets users send end-to-end encrypted messages on Bluesky. TechCrunch speaks with the Germ founders to hear why they came up with the idea. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

What the status of Encrypted Client Hello (ECH)? What radio technology would be best for remote inverter shutdown? Some DNS providers already block newly listed domains. Knowing when not to click a link can take true understanding. Why can losing a small portion of a power grid bring the rest down? Where are we in the "AI Hype Cycle" and is this the first? Speaking of hype: An AI system resorted to blackmail? Why are we so quick to imbue AI with awareness? ChatGPT's latest o3 model ignored the order to shutdown. Copilot may not be making Windows core code any better. Venice.AI is an unfiltered and unrestrained LLM Show Notes - https://www.grc.com/sn/SN-1027-Notes.pdf Hosts: Steve Gibson and Leo Laporte Download or subscribe to Security Now at https://twit.tv/shows/security-now. You can submit a question to Security Now at the GRC Feedback Page. For 16kbps versions, transcripts, and notes (including fixes), visit Steve's site: grc.com, also the home of the best disk maintenance and recovery utility ever written Spinrite 6. Join Club TWiT for Ad-Free Podcasts! Support what you love and get ad-free shows, a members-only Discord, and behind-the-scenes access. Join today: https://twit.tv/clubtwit Sponsors: outsystems.com/twit threatlocker.com for Security Now canary.tools/twit - use code: TWIT hoxhunt.com/securitynow 1password.com/securitynow

What the status of Encrypted Client Hello (ECH)? What radio technology would be best for remote inverter shutdown? Some DNS providers already block newly listed domains. Knowing when not to click a link can take true understanding. Why can losing a small portion of a power grid bring the rest down? Where are we in the "AI Hype Cycle" and is this the first? Speaking of hype: An AI system resorted to blackmail? Why are we so quick to imbue AI with awareness? ChatGPT's latest o3 model ignored the order to shutdown. Copilot may not be making Windows core code any better. Venice.AI is an unfiltered and unrestrained LLM Show Notes - https://www.grc.com/sn/SN-1027-Notes.pdf Hosts: Steve Gibson and Leo Laporte Download or subscribe to Security Now at https://twit.tv/shows/security-now. You can submit a question to Security Now at the GRC Feedback Page. For 16kbps versions, transcripts, and notes (including fixes), visit Steve's site: grc.com, also the home of the best disk maintenance and recovery utility ever written Spinrite 6. Join Club TWiT for Ad-Free Podcasts! Support what you love and get ad-free shows, a members-only Discord, and behind-the-scenes access. Join today: https://twit.tv/clubtwit Sponsors: outsystems.com/twit threatlocker.com for Security Now canary.tools/twit - use code: TWIT hoxhunt.com/securitynow 1password.com/securitynow

What the status of Encrypted Client Hello (ECH)? What radio technology would be best for remote inverter shutdown? Some DNS providers already block newly listed domains. Knowing when not to click a link can take true understanding. Why can losing a small portion of a power grid bring the rest down? Where are we in the "AI Hype Cycle" and is this the first? Speaking of hype: An AI system resorted to blackmail? Why are we so quick to imbue AI with awareness? ChatGPT's latest o3 model ignored the order to shutdown. Copilot may not be making Windows core code any better. Venice.AI is an unfiltered and unrestrained LLM Show Notes - https://www.grc.com/sn/SN-1027-Notes.pdf Hosts: Steve Gibson and Leo Laporte Download or subscribe to Security Now at https://twit.tv/shows/security-now. You can submit a question to Security Now at the GRC Feedback Page. For 16kbps versions, transcripts, and notes (including fixes), visit Steve's site: grc.com, also the home of the best disk maintenance and recovery utility ever written Spinrite 6. Join Club TWiT for Ad-Free Podcasts! Support what you love and get ad-free shows, a members-only Discord, and behind-the-scenes access. Join today: https://twit.tv/clubtwit Sponsors: outsystems.com/twit threatlocker.com for Security Now canary.tools/twit - use code: TWIT hoxhunt.com/securitynow 1password.com/securitynow

What the status of Encrypted Client Hello (ECH)? What radio technology would be best for remote inverter shutdown? Some DNS providers already block newly listed domains. Knowing when not to click a link can take true understanding. Why can losing a small portion of a power grid bring the rest down? Where are we in the "AI Hype Cycle" and is this the first? Speaking of hype: An AI system resorted to blackmail? Why are we so quick to imbue AI with awareness? ChatGPT's latest o3 model ignored the order to shutdown. Copilot may not be making Windows core code any better. Venice.AI is an unfiltered and unrestrained LLM Show Notes - https://www.grc.com/sn/SN-1027-Notes.pdf Hosts: Steve Gibson and Leo Laporte Download or subscribe to Security Now at https://twit.tv/shows/security-now. You can submit a question to Security Now at the GRC Feedback Page. For 16kbps versions, transcripts, and notes (including fixes), visit Steve's site: grc.com, also the home of the best disk maintenance and recovery utility ever written Spinrite 6. Join Club TWiT for Ad-Free Podcasts! Support what you love and get ad-free shows, a members-only Discord, and behind-the-scenes access. Join today: https://twit.tv/clubtwit Sponsors: outsystems.com/twit threatlocker.com for Security Now canary.tools/twit - use code: TWIT hoxhunt.com/securitynow 1password.com/securitynow

Having good backups of your data is important, and this is especially true of your most sensitive data. In this episode, Jon will be sharing about a device that he uses with his most sensitive data. With the ability to remote or local wipe the data, brute force protection, weather protection, and more, it is a USB drive that you can use and trust in your digital engagement efforts. To watch this training, go here: https://youtu.be/L0Xe6s2y78A

A newly unsealed FBI affidavit reveals chilling details: a Wisconsin teen who killed his parents and plotted to assassinate Donald Trump was communicating with a Ukrainian contact over Telegram. This marks the second Trump-related assassination attempt linked to Ukraine—raising disturbing questions. Why are multiple suspects tied to the same foreign players? With connections to encrypted networks, foreign operatives, and even the Azov Battalion, the thread winds through cartels, Iran, and Ukraine. As the FBI stonewalls Congress, refusing to release 33,000 pages, this exposé uncovers a dark web of geopolitical hostility targeting a former U.S. president.

What if the internet could run fully encrypted computations without sacrificing performance or control? In this episode of Tech Talks Daily, I sit down with Yannik Schrade, CEO and Co-Founder of Arcium, to explore how confidential computing is reshaping the future of digital infrastructure. Arcium is building what Yannik describes as an encrypted supercomputer, a decentralized network that allows data to stay encrypted even during processing. This approach gives developers and organizations a way to build privacy-first applications across sectors like healthcare, finance, artificial intelligence, and government services. We talk through how Arcium leverages secure multi-party computation to make this possible and why that matters in a world where sensitive data is often a liability. Yannik explains how Arcium enables companies to collaborate without revealing proprietary data, and how it allows for mathematically provable trust in digital processes. From private order books in financial systems to AI models that train on encrypted health data, the scope of this technology is already expanding into real-world use cases. We also explore the importance of decentralization, not just as a technical feature, but as a way to reframe the conversation around digital sovereignty, compliance, and individual freedom. Yannik reflects on his own journey from app developer to cryptography leader, and how his background in computer science, mathematics, and law helped shape his vision for Arcium. If you're navigating challenges around data privacy, regulation, or AI ethics, or if you're curious about what confidential computing can unlock, this is a conversation that brings clarity to an area often clouded by hype. What would your organization build if privacy was no longer a limitation but a default capability? Let me know after you've listened.

Surge in Scans for Juniper t128 Default User Lasst week, we dedtect a significant surge in ssh scans for the username t128 . This user is used by Juniper s Session Smart Routing, a product they acquired from 128 Technologies which is the reason for the somewhat unusual username. https://isc.sans.edu/diary/Surge%20in%20Scans%20for%20Juniper%20%22t128%22%20Default%20User/31824 Vulnerable Verizon API Allowed for Access to Call Logs An API Verizon offered to users of its call filtering application suffered from an authentication bypass vulnerability allowing users to access any Verizon user s call history. While using a JWT to authenticate the user, the phone number used to retrieve the call history logs was passed in a not-authenticated header. https://evanconnelly.github.io/post/hacking-call-records/ Google Offering End-to-End Encryption to G-Mail Business Users Google will add an end-to-end encryption feature to commercial GMail users. However, for non GMail users to read the emails they first must click on a link and log in to Google. https://workspace.google.com/blog/identity-and-security/gmail-easy-end-to-end-encryption-all-businesses

What Was Karen Read Thinking When Digging Her Hole Deeper, Psychotherapist Shavaun Scott Weighs In Was Karen Read seeking justice—or just someone to keep telling her she's right? When a Boston police officer, John O'Keefe, turns up dead and Karen Read is charged with his alleged murder, things spiral into more than just a courtroom drama. Encrypted messages, endless hours of contact with a controversial blogger (who might have a bit of a crush), and a defense that screams “cover-up” more than “clear-cut”—this case is a messy mix of emotion, obsession, and chaos. Psychotherapist and author Shavaun Scott joins Tony Brueski to break down the psychological whirlwind behind Read's actions: from potentially manipulative behavior, to an almost teenage-like hunger for validation, to whether this entire saga is driven by guilt or just a need to win—at any cost. With a former juror now bizarrely on her legal team and behavior that looks more like a reality show than a murder trial, one question lingers... Will Karen Read be convicted based on her personality instead of the evidence? #KarenRead #JohnOKeefe #TrueCrimePodcast #HiddenKillers #LegalDrama #PsychologicalAnalysis #TonyBrueski Want to listen to ALL of our podcasts AD-FREE? Subscribe through APPLE PODCASTS, and try it for three days free: https://tinyurl.com/ycw626tj Follow Our Other Cases: https://www.truecrimetodaypod.com The latest on The Downfall of Diddy, The Trial of Karen Read, The Murder Of Maddie Soto, Catching the Long Island Serial Killer, Awaiting Admission: BTK's Unconfessed Crimes, Delphi Murders: Inside the Crime, Chad & Lori Daybell, The Murder of Ana Walshe, Alex Murdaugh, Bryan Kohberger, Lucy Letby, Kouri Richins, Malevolent Mormon Mommys, The Menendez Brothers: Quest For Justice, The Murder of Stephen Smith, The Murder of Madeline Kingsbury, The Murder Of Sandra Birchmore, and much more! Listen at https://www.truecrimetodaypod.com

On this week's episode, Andrew and Mary start with the major capitulation of the Paul, Wiess law firm to Trump's demands late last week, in exchange for rescinding an EO targeting the firm. This is the chilling effect they've been talking about in action. Then: what are the consequences of the Trump administration defying court orders from US District Chief Judge James Boasberg? The deportation of Venezuelan migrants without due process seems to be careening into that constitutional question, so Andrew and Mary break down the latest on that case, as the government invokes the “state secrets privilege”. And lastly, they detail the legal issues surrounding the now-infamous Signal chat reported by The Atlantic- an extraordinary demonstration of gross negligence when it comes to national defense information. Further reading: Here is Mary's piece on Just Security: Dissecting the Trump Administration's Strategy for Defying Court OrdersAnd here is Andrew's piece, also from Just Security: The New “Blacklists” Work When Law Firms Stay SilentAnd here is the criminal code Andrew and Mary referenced: 18 U.S. Code § 793 - Gathering, transmitting or losing defense informationWant to listen to this show without ads? Sign up for MSNBC Premium on Apple Podcasts.

Benjamin and Chance react to the biggest stories of the week, including Apple's commitment to support encrypted RCS, the rumored launch of a new live translation feature for AirPods, and the ongoing fallout of the Siri feature delays. Apple is also forced to add a variety of APIs to let third-party devices access iOS notifications and other system features, thanks to the latest EU decree. And in Happy Hour Plus, Chance rocks out to Metallica in the Vision Pro, and Apple finally announces Ted Lasso season four. Subscribe at 9to5mac.com/join. Sponsored by Shopify: Grow your business no matter what stage you're in. Sign up for a $1 per month trial at shopify.com/happyhour. Sponsored by Stash: With Stash, there's no more confusing, frustrating gatekeeping to keep you from investing. Go to get.stash.com/HAPPYHOUR to see how you can receive $25 towards your first stock purchase and to view important disclosures. Sponsored by Incogni: Take your personal data back with Incogni! Use code MACHAPPYHOUR at the link below and get 60% off an annual plan: http://incogni.com/machappyhour. Hosts Chance Miller @chancemiller.me on Bluesky @chancehmiller@mastodon.social @ChanceHMiller on Instagram @ChanceHMiller on Threads Benjamin Mayo @bzamayo on Twitter @bzamayo@mastodon.social @bzamayo on Threads Subscribe, Rate, and Review Apple Podcasts Overcast Spotify 9to5Mac Happy Hour Plus Subscribe to 9to5Mac Happy Hour Plus! Support Benjamin and Chance directly with Happy Hour Plus! 9to5Mac Happy Hour Plus includes:  Ad-free versions of every episode  Pre- and post-show content Bonus episodes Join for $5 per month or $50 a year at 9to5mac.com/join.  Feedback Submit #Ask9to5Mac questions on Twitter, Mastodon, or Threads Email us feedback and questions to happyhour@9to5mac.com Links End-to-end encrypted RCS messaging on iPhone coming in future software update Apple will introduce a number of texting upgrades in iOS 19, here's what's coming Apple says EU interoperability requirements enable unfettered access to the iPhone, risks customer security and privacy EU orders Apple to open up access to iOS notifications, allow alternatives to AirDrop and AirPlay on the iPhone Apple working on live translation feature for AirPods with iOS 19 Apple exec slams ‘ugly and embarrassing' Siri delays in all-hands meeting Apple announces new immersive concert experience for Apple Vision Pro Report: Apple considered removing USB-C port from iPhone 17 Air, more EU confirms Apple can make a portless iPhone without USB-C Apple officially announces Ted Lasso season 4 Poll: Do you want a thinner iPhone 7 at the expense of the 3.5mm headphone jack?

Episode 515: Neal and Toby dive into the latest report that shows American consumer sentiment being at a low-point with the news of tariffs. Then, the British government orders Apple to let it spy on users' encrypted data. Also, the National Institutes of Health cuts billions of dollars for indirect costs and universities say it could jeopardize their research. Meanwhile, the winners of the weekend. Finally, what you need to know for the week ahead.  00:00 - Why is the Super Bowl on a Sunday? 3:00 - Consumer sentiment is down on the economy 7:30 - UK wants Apple's encrypted data 11:30 - NIH cuts billions of dollars 18:00 - The best Super Bowl commercials 24:30 - Week Ahead Subscribe to Morning Brew Daily for more of the news you need to start your day. Share the show with a friend, and leave us a review on your favorite podcast app. Check out https://wise.com/business for more! Listen to Morning Brew Daily Here: https://link.chtbl.com/MBD Watch Morning Brew Daily Here: https://www.youtube.com/@MorningBrewDailyShow Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices