Podcasts about foragers

Morse code transcription: vvv vvv Car finance case could spark billions in driver payouts Foragers alarm after police visit over mushroom picking claims Laura Kuenssberg For Justin Welby, anonymity may not be his to choose Adolesence Teenager dissects Netflix drama with worried parents Water, cars and phones The seven bills set to rise this week Trump tariffs The US firms welcoming the fight on trade Trump couldnt care less if foreign car prices high Over a million private photos from dating apps exposed online Justin Welby Former Archbishop of Canterbury forgives serial abuser John Smyth Kate says nature is familys sanctuary in Mothers Day message

Morse code transcription: vvv vvv Foragers alarm after police visit over mushroom picking claims Trump tariffs The US firms welcoming the fight on trade Kate says nature is familys sanctuary in Mothers Day message Laura Kuenssberg For Justin Welby, anonymity may not be his to choose Justin Welby Former Archbishop of Canterbury forgives serial abuser John Smyth Trump couldnt care less if foreign car prices high Water, cars and phones The seven bills set to rise this week Adolesence Teenager dissects Netflix drama with worried parents Car finance case could spark billions in driver payouts Over a million private photos from dating apps exposed online

Morse code transcription: vvv vvv Justin Welby Former Archbishop of Canterbury forgives serial abuser John Smyth Water, cars and phones The seven bills set to rise this week Trump couldnt care less if foreign car prices high Car finance case could spark billions in driver payouts Kate says nature is familys sanctuary in Mothers Day message Over a million private photos from dating apps exposed online Trump tariffs The US firms welcoming the fight on trade Adolesence Teenager dissects Netflix drama with worried parents Laura Kuenssberg For Justin Welby, anonymity may not be his to choose Foragers alarm after police visit over mushroom picking claims

Morse code transcription: vvv vvv Over a million private photos from dating apps exposed online Justin Welby Former Archbishop of Canterbury forgives serial abuser John Smyth Kate says nature is familys sanctuary in Mothers Day message Adolesence Teenager dissects Netflix drama with worried parents Trump couldnt care less if foreign car prices high Foragers alarm after police visit over mushroom picking claims Trump tariffs The US firms welcoming the fight on trade Laura Kuenssberg For Justin Welby, anonymity may not be his to choose Car finance case could spark billions in driver payouts Water, cars and phones The seven bills set to rise this week

Foragers take on anti-foragers in the great breakfast buffet debate, we continue the train limerick challenge and feature a topical update on romantic destinations. The website for info on the Robert Louis Stevenson trail is chemin-stevenson.org and thanks to Jill Sauve for her photo on Unsplash

In this Meet the Authors event of Volumen 9: Language, costarican film critic and writer Fernando Chaves Espinach interviews Jumana Manna, a Palestinian visual artist and filmmaker that through her work explores how power is articulated, focusing on the body, land, and materiality in relation to colonial inheritances and histories of place. She is the director of the film ‘Foragers', which inspired the text ‘Herbs Speak of Pain' written by Fernando and featured on the creative documentary column of Volume 9: ‘Language' of Wimblu's Magazine.    Read ‘Herbs Speak of Pain' by Fernando Chaves Espinach here: https://wimblu.com/en/volumen-9/hierbas-hablan-del-dolor/ 

Why are history books so full of men? Why have so many societies treated women as property? In short, why is patriarchy so pervasive? A casual thinker might find an easy answer from biology. Men tend to be bigger and stronger. Hence, they get to run the show. “Just look at chimpanzees!” But this explanation has obvious problems. Indeed, female chimpanzees don't have much power in their groups. But female bonobos do. And looking at humans, not all human societies are patriarchal — not nearly to the same extent. We don't need to look at modern Scandinavia to get inspiration for women's empowerment. Quite the contrary, equality between the sexes might have been the norm throughout most of the human story. This might sound surprising given the rates of patriarchy across time and space. However, it is supported by a simple finding: gender equality is relatively common in existing hunter-gatherers. This stands in stark contrast to their agricultural neighbours. This old finding became part of the scholarly conversation again in late 2024 when a new paper reported high levels of equality between husbands and wives amongst married hunter-gatherers. The levels of equality surprised the scholars themselves. But all this raises an interesting question: why is this? Why would hunting and gathering incline societies towards equality? Or vice versa, why would agriculture nudge societies towards male power? And what should we make of the many outliers from this pattern, like the matriarchal farmers of northeastern India? To discuss these topics, I invited the lead author of the recent paper to the show. Angarika Deb is a cognitive anthropologist, soon to earn her PhD from the Central European University. Despite her young career, she has produced tons of interesting articles on gender inequality around the world. A wide-ranging conversation was guaranteed. LINKS For links to academic articles and a summary of the conversation, head here (uploaded with a short delay after the episode). Read more at ⁠⁠OnHumans.Substack.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠. You can also find On Humans on ⁠⁠YouTube⁠⁠ and ⁠⁠BlueSky⁠! Feeling generous? Join the wonderful group of my patrons at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Patreon.com/OnHumans⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠, ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠or get in touch for other ways to support! Email: ⁠⁠makela dot ilari at outlook dot com⁠⁠⁠ MENTIONS Technical terms Patrilocality | Matrilocality | Virilocatily | Y-chromosome bottleneck Ethnic groups Agta | BaYaka | !Kung | Mongols | Garo and Khasi | Inuit Keywords Patriarchy | Agriculture | Neolithic | Social evolution | Social complexity | Hunter-gatherers | Sexual division of labor | Human evolution | Anthropology | Archaeology | Evolutionary psychology | Sociology | Social science | Human science

Wind back 1,000 years and the moral landscape looks very different to today. Most farming societies thought slavery was natural and unobjectionable, premarital sex was an abomination, women should obey their husbands, and commoners should obey their monarchs.Wind back 10,000 years and things look very different again. Most hunter-gatherer groups thought men who got too big for their britches needed to be put in their place rather than obeyed, and lifelong monogamy could hardly be expected of men or women.Why such big systematic changes — and why these changes specifically?That's the question bestselling historian Ian Morris takes up in his book, Foragers, Farmers, and Fossil Fuels: How Human Values Evolve. Ian has spent his academic life studying long-term history, trying to explain the big-picture changes that play out over hundreds or thousands of years.Rebroadcast: this episode was originally released in July 2022.Links to learn more, highlights, and full transcript.There are a number of possible explanations one could offer for the wide-ranging shifts in opinion on the 'right' way to live. Maybe the natural sciences progressed and people realised their previous ideas were mistaken? Perhaps a few persuasive advocates turned the course of history with their revolutionary arguments? Maybe everyone just got nicer?In Foragers, Farmers and Fossil Fuels Ian presents a provocative alternative: human culture gradually evolves towards whatever system of organisation allows a society to harvest the most energy, and we then conclude that system is the most virtuous one. Egalitarian values helped hunter-gatherers hunt and gather effectively. Once farming was developed, hierarchy proved to be the social structure that produced the most grain (and best repelled nomadic raiders). And in the modern era, democracy and individuality have proven to be more productive ways to collect and exploit fossil fuels.On this theory, it's technology that drives moral values much more than moral philosophy. Individuals can try to persist with deeply held values that limit economic growth, but they risk being rendered irrelevant as more productive peers in their own society accrue wealth and power. And societies that fail to move with the times risk being conquered by more pragmatic neighbours that adapt to new technologies and grow in population and military strength.There are many objections one could raise to this theory, many of which we put to Ian in this interview. But the question is a highly consequential one: if we want to guess what goals our descendants will pursue hundreds of years from now, it would be helpful to have a theory for why our ancestors mostly thought one thing, while we mostly think another.Big though it is, the driver of human values is only one of several major questions Ian has tackled through his career.In this classic episode, we discuss all of Ian's major books.Chapters:Rob's intro (00:00:53)The interview begins (00:02:30)Geography is Destiny (00:03:38)Why the West Rules—For Now (00:12:04)War! What is it Good For? (00:28:19)Expectations for the future (00:40:22)Foragers, Farmers, and Fossil Fuels (00:53:53)Historical methodology (01:03:14)Falsifiable alternative theories (01:15:59)Archaeology (01:22:56)Energy extraction technology as a key driver of human values (01:37:43)Allowing people to debate about values (02:00:16)Can productive wars still occur? (02:13:28)Where is history contingent and where isn't it? (02:30:23)How Ian thinks about the future (03:13:33)Macrohistory myths (03:29:51)Ian's favourite archaeology memory (03:33:19)The most unfair criticism Ian's ever received (03:35:17)Rob's outro (03:39:55)Producer: Keiran HarrisAudio mastering: Ben CordellTranscriptions: Katy Moore

In this episode of the Year of Plenty Podcast, Chef Will Morton and Spencer Freehling join Poldi Wieland for a Foodies Roundtable that's all about celebrating the outdoors through food. Chef Will is a professional chef with a specialty in wild game and fermentation, while Spencer is a professional photographer and videographer in the hunting and fishing industry. Both are passionate foragers, outdoorsmen, and food enthusiasts. Together, they share their experiences and expertise from the past foraging season, dive into creative culinary techniques, and explore the untapped potential of wild ingredients.Episode Overview:A wild mushroom foraging season recap, including lessons learned.Hunting for the elusive black mountain morel mushroom and why it's so special.How Chef Will pickles mushrooms without using oil.Tips for preserving chanterelles and other mushrooms for long-term use.Wild plants and mushrooms we want to forage for in 2025.The art of making vinegar, plus an inside look at Chef Will's specialty vinegar business.How Chef Will ages wild game meat using dry and wet aging techniques.A gear breakdown: the best vacuum sealers for outdoorsmen.Exploring unique ingredients like beaver meat, beaver tail, and cooking with beaver fat.Use code “yearofplenty” (all lower case) for 15% OFF at www.mtblock.comMY ULTIMATE FORAGING GEAR LIST - Check it outLeave a review on Apple or Spotify and send a screenshot to theyearofplenty@gmail.com to receive a FREE EBOOK with my favorite food preservation recipes.Watch the Video Podcasts on Youtube:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ysHpvJYDstQSupport the podcast via Patreon:https://www.patreon.com/yearofplentySign up for the newsletter:www.theyearofplenty.com/newsletterSubscribe to the Youtube Channel:https://www.youtube.com/@yearofplentyvideoDo you follow the podcast on social media yet?IG: https://www.instagram.com/poldiwieland/X: https://x.com/yearofplentypodI want to hear from you! Take the LISTENER SURVEY: https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/KZW53RConnect with Chef Will:https://www.willymos.com/Connect with Spencer:https://www.instagram.com/s.freehling/?hl=en

When some human societies made the shift from wild, procured foods to domesticated, produced foods there is a corresponding decline in the health of those people in the archaeological record. Today, the majority of people eat domesticated staples, and our health has taken a huge decline on a global scale. Wild foods are an important nutritional component to the human diet. Rewilding can mean rekindling the relationship to wild foods that humans have historically had. To talk with me about this on the Rewilding Podcast, is Monica Wilde. Monica Wilde, known as Mo, is an ethnobotanist and research herbalist. She lives in Scotland in a self-built wooden house where she's created a wild, teaching garden on 4 organic acres, encouraging edible and medicinal species to make their home. Mo holds a Masters degree in Herbal Medicine, is a Fellow of the Linnean Society, a Member of the British Mycological Society and a Member of the Association of Foragers, which she helped to found in 2015. She has been teaching foraging and herbal medicine for several decades. Mo wrote the award-winning book The Wilderness Cure: Ancient Wisdom in a Modern World, in 2022, that imparts what she learned from her year of living on only wild foods. Afterwards she started the Wildbiome® Project - a citizen science study tracking the health changes seen on wild food diets. The next arm of the study is in April 2025.Monica's InstagramWild Biome Project InstagramThe Wildbiome™️ Project ResultsThe Wilderness CureThe Ethnobiology of Contemporary British Foragers: Foods They Teach, Their Sources of Inspiration and ImpactSupport the show

As we gird ourselves for the inevitable stress of the holiday season, let us take a moment to enjoy some of the finer things in life, such as reading Reddits and judging people to be either innocents or a**holes and absolutely nothing in-between. It's a wonderful way to relax and unwind before hopping in the family station wagon to go visit your Uncle who smells of Icy Hot and won't stop talking about the 1971 Baltimore Colts. Follow the podcast on Insta: @shttheydonttellyou Follow Nikki on Insta: @NikkiLimo Follow Steve on Insta: @SteveGreeneComedy To visit our Patreon: http://www.patreon.com/stikki To watch the podcast on YouTube: http://bit.ly/STDTYPodYouTube Don't forget to subscribe to the podcast for free wherever you're listening, or by using this link: http://bit.ly/ShtTheyDontTellYou If you want to support the show, and get all our episodes ad-free go to: https://stdty.supercast.tech/ If you like the show, telling a friend about it would be amazing! You can text, email, Tweet, or send this link to a friend: http://bit.ly/ShtTheyDontTellYou To submit your questions/feedback, email us at: podcast@nikki.limo To call in with questions/feedback, leave us a voicemail at: (765) 734-0840 To watch more Nikki & Steve on YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/nikkilimo To watch more of Nikki talking about Poker: https://www.twitch.tv/trickniks To check out Nikki's Jewelry Line: https://kittensandcoffee.com Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

After several months of chasing one another, we are excited to sit down with the two men behind Foragers Market Co. Justin Johal and Harv Singh are the curators of our Livermore Farmers Market, along with San Ramon, Niles Fremont, and West Oakland. Since taking over management of our Livermore farmers, these two have completely revitalized how our community ability to come together and celebrate all that defines #eatlocal #drinklocal #livelocal In 2023 Diablo Magazine awarded Foragers Market the East Bay Farmers Market Visionary Award. Tune in now and learn more about what it takes to create and manage amazing regional farmers market. Be sure to SUBSCRIBE to stay tuned with all our regional happenings.

This is a link post. Part 1: Our Thinking Near and Far1 Abstract/Distant Future Bias2 Abstractly Ideal, Concretely Selfish3 We Add Near, Average Far4 Why We Don't Know What We Want5 We See the Sacred from Afar, to See It Together6 The Future Seems Shiny7 Doubting My Far Mind Disagreement8 Beware the Inside View9 Are Meta Views Outside Views?10 Disagreement Is Near-Far Bias11 Others' Views Are Detail12 Why Be Contrarian?13 On Disagreement, Again14 Rationality Requires Common Priors15 Might Disagreement Fade Like Violence? Biases16 Reject Random Beliefs17 Chase Your Reading18 Against Free Thinkers19 Eventual Futures20 Seen vs. Unseen Biases21 Law as No-Bias Theatre22 Benefit of Doubt = Bias Part 2: Our Motives Signaling23 Decision Theory Remains Neglected24 What Function Music?25 Politics isn't about Policy26 Views [...] ---Outline:(00:07) Part 1: Our Thinking(00:12) Near and Far(00:37) Disagreement(01:04) Biases(01:28) Part 2: Our Motives(01:33) Signaling(02:01) Norms(02:35) Fiction(02:58) The Dreamtime(03:19) Part 3: Our Institutions(03:25) Prediction Markets(03:48) Academia(04:06) Medicine(04:15) Paternalism(04:29) Law(05:21) Part 4: Our Past(05:26) Farmers and Foragers(05:55) History as Exponential Modes(06:09) The Great Filter(06:35) Part 5: Our Future(06:39) Aliens(07:01) UFOs(07:22) The Age of Em(07:44) Artificial Intelligence--- First published: October 20th, 2024 Source: https://www.lesswrong.com/posts/JxsJdBnL2gG5oa2Li/overcoming-bias-anthology --- Narrated by TYPE III AUDIO.

John Michelotti rejoins the Nature Calls: Conversations from the Hudson Valley podcast to continue his mission to spread information about the incredible benefits of fungi, and their capacity to change the way we look at our relationships with each other and the world. John is the founder of Catskill Fungi, which produces health tinctures from fungi that are wild-crafted or grown on the Michelotti family farm in Big Indian, NY. John co-founded the Catskill Regional Mycoflora Project, serves as Medicinal Mushroom Committee Chair, and is a Poison Control Consultant for the North American Mycological Association. He describes the various parts of a mushroom (e.g. gills, pores, teeth, etc.) that produce spores which are the way that fungi reproduce. He recommends that mushrooms be cooked for us to get the nutritional benefits. In addition to food uses, mushrooms can be used medicinally. Certifications are required to sell mushrooms commercially. People can become quite ill if they consume mushrooms that are not safe to eat. Some mushrooms can also be deadly. Traceability is key to understand the source of the mushrooms, especially when sold to restaurants.Foragers are encouraged to have liability insurance if they plan to sell mushrooms. Knowledge about how to identify mushrooms is key if you want to find mushrooms for personal use. Mushroom walks and conferences are great sources of information. Fungi break down plants. Anything that is plant-based can potentially be decomposed by mushrooms and make good soil in the process. Conserving soil and habitat is key to protecting fungi in the future, especially with the risks of climate change. Understanding fungi brings us closer to better understanding the interconnection being all members of the universe. Learn about the incredible benefits of fungi, and their capacity to change the way we look at our relationships with each other and the world. Get inspired to grow edible mushrooms as a source of fresh food, heal yourself by using the health properties of fungi, and explore the historic uses and present-day innovations of the fungal kingdom. Hosts: Tim Kennelty and Jean Thomas Guest: John Michelotti Photo By: Teresa Golden Production Support: Linda Aydlett, Deven Connelly, Teresa Golden, Xandra Powers, Annie Scibienski, Robin Smith Resources

{Previously…} Evidently the motorcycles begin to now attack when I am at rest , on line, and not recording. However, once I begin recording, they stop. This has only been since I've been intentionally collecting recordings and data to add to my report to the NYPD and any applicable law enforcement agencies, as this continual threat seems to be politically motivated—and motorcycles, mopeds, and other motorized vehicles being used as a form of psychological terrorism as a direct threat to public health and safety. Terror stalking. Gang stalking. This may be a politicized attempt to promote or enforce gentrification or other political agendas. Living//Loving life on a server, Doesn't it seem wonderful? Let's face it— It's Fast Friday and I'm not going to be Bouncing off the walls, or anything— But I might be prone to a lot of Critical thinking, And though it's an expensive maneuver, And risky expenditure, The fact of the matter is— I haven't really been doing anything. I've been not complacent, But stagnant— So perhaps maybe this little detour Will be just the thing I need To erase some of the damage that's been done To my psyche— Sitting in this terribly loud apartment In Brooklyn Trying to find peace And make music; When the answer all along is that I need to increase my visibility In order to find what's needed; The fact is— Knowing where to go Or what to do Or who to meet Is not going to come in isolation— No, not at all. It would come from a neatly designed —whatever, I just got bored. Perhaps if I study hard enough, One day, I could complete my studies somewhere Like Harvard, Or Columbia— But first, I'll need a new diploma in my actual name. You see, nobody's giving any kind of real fuck about my music. I can't keep throwing money at it thinking that the way to success is going to be making enough money, to spend enough money, to hopefully buy the attention of the robotic masses, and eventually maybe even a club owner or festival promoter Who might be looking to put me on. Don't get me wrong— my music is good. But we live in a computer, and let's also realize: That with the noise in this building, And the overall head trip of counting up my pennies for every little thing I need, I'm starting to get physically ill, Just sitting here, understanding that To look the part, one must prioritize An expensive beauty regimen— Which either would leave me at the mercy of some man, Willing to do these things for me, Or that I might earn this myself… As you see, I've chosen the latter route— The more challenging, perhaps, However, Leaving my celibacy intact, And granted, otherwise uninterested In the males at my level of circumstance For any purposes beyond entertainment— —seek no other actual companionship at all. I like myself, I love myself— And though feeling uglier and uglier The more I stare into the face of my telephone screen— I am wonderfully beautiful all on my own. —but— The masses expect a spectacle, And so, It becomes part of my job, as an entertainer, Part of my repertoire— —have mercy— (I'm going to choose to ignore that, sort of) To do at least what has become expected of me as a woman— To be “pretty” — And though the makeup and hair and nails Might be fake, –Cans cost a fortune— Myself without those things, as observed and proven Becomes overlooked, dismissible, and only attractive To those, of course, to whom I have no business Associating For both personal, And professional reasons. —moreover… Conduct yourselves well, my dear— As the furious skies have warned us, That the roles you carry out to mark and torment others, Will soon reflect upon your own mirror Into which you stare, And no mercy is given By the eye that looks, Or any other The nearer to doors I am, The harder they slam— The, though I am fasting, I'm suddenly hungry, A far cry Which forces me to realize That all of mankind Has been poisoned Toxic, And become Unsafe So, What's wrong here Is they've Taken all the nutrients From the foods we need And put it on A competitive scale So that The more you earn The healthier you are And of course The healthier you are The more productive you are Which creates value Maybe I didn't have to take the GED; Maybe there was some way to go about getting My actual name On my old diploma— Hopefully without cost. But it didn't make sense to move into a new era Or a new world With old haunts. I knew I needed to seal the name change records So that my abuser could not have access To my identity. For whatever reason, I wanted things like Harvard and Columbia— I wanted to succeed and to win with a reputable and respectable foundation— I wanted to raise my son To play football And split custody In the sporting seasons In which I felt he performed best. I wanted to show him success Without making compromises That would hurt and weaken The strength of the body and mind — But most importantly, the soul. I hope by now you've realized how odd it is To have a crystal dildo Sitting in a glass jar On your kitchen countertop? …I'm soaking it. …But why crystal tho? Wouldn't you prefer An iron tenderizer For that steak Rather than a Silicone one? …now that you put it that way. Come closer, darling, I want to connect with you closer Than besides In the eye of the camera— Don't you know, anyway— How dire the circumstances become Once you've broken the fourth wall And entered the quarry. You lunatic! Don't worry The moon hasn't gone yet new, And my honored eye Still betraying the thought you are, The battered ram and the shackled horses The bloodied bull And the heroic matador, Fight … … … —by fury with design, for the holocaust. The masses have loved us From far beyond reason For our class action theatrics With no aversion at all, To violence. A treasury! Kill him, then! Kill that bitch. No! Just— scare her! Right you are, (And right you were!) Dear Johnathan, I should have warned you More than once, What an. Honorable sacrifice Your wicked life Has offered us— Foragers of freedom, March upon the underspoken Warcries, Offer us none But the end of our suffering In solitude, A service of none, All together, Hurt and bea— Arthur. I warned you once. You see, Men need women, They move on fast. One, none parted Before finding another. Let's not separate the eggs from the whites. Isn't it all “the egg”? You know what I meant! What do you “meant”? The yellow part! God, you don't half to yell. I'm not God, I'm just playing her part while she runs off for awhile. How long is “awhile”? Just finish those tarts. Mm. Pop tarts. NO. NOT POP TARTS — Just TARTS. …wait, can she hear us? I can hear everything! I'm playing God's parts! “Parts”? (Let's just say it's a double role.) Hey. How's it goin? Okay. Relax… I am relaxed. I don't want to scare you or anything. —nothing's scary— But— [pause] You have a knife in your back. [beat] Yeah. [beat] (Cont'd) It's just [a little] something I'm working on. What? We should call an ambulance! Nope, I'm fine. Just— No! Don't touch it! What?! Just leave it. It's time for pros and cons lists— It's time for diamonds Time for great minds that think alike. I sterted a revolution on Google documents m Ya'll started chemical warfare On skin color God Made me born into a world War Where fair skin takes priority Over others Gave me a notebook, No pen A traumatized mother, A drunk father And said, “Fix problems” I think I didn't like The nell Schooll ll Cause their mascot Is a pices They said I got 15 minutes of fame 22 minutes of superstardom An hour of celebrity And 2 hours in a leading role Of a feature film Franchise So I'd better get used to it And I'd better make use of it And I'd better make better lists of The huffsk yll m You W t you Sorry, Gym typo Because Of course I'm a beast Faux pas, As I was, Saying— I should make better lists Of the guff I wanna boff, The doves I Central Park The pigeons, turtle doves and Waffles— —I still want the But not the buttermilk kind MAMA! I gotta get to Tom/ Diner! FATHER! (Try papa) Papa was the ops! Nah, I'm vice. I'd better get Anything done Before midnight strikes Along with the hunger My gloves are straight soaked I got puddles in my shoes I wanna top Obama Start all my dawns With hours of cardio!! Look, I can channel anyone I love! Do you love me? NO! —I just want your body a lot Like a lot LIKE A LOT, Tho. We're too famous— We sense crazies and go out the back door. How famous are you again? Apparently, like mad famous, dog. Were so famous, We look danger in the eyes. Oh yeah, this dude is fucking nuts. Didn't I say to pay it forward?! I don't need a reminder Of what time it is. Sometimes I forget This is yesterdays workout And I'm due back In the AM Where the crazies Can't get to me Exactly Where I am (Don't remind me how high I am.) I might jump just to get on the Television Martyrdom for attention Still haven't mentioned— I'm thousands of galaxies out of him, And only two millennia older Than HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! Fuck you. SUNNI BLŪ gets a surprise party for their 27th birthday. I've been advised to stay away from the doors and windows. Why. Ū crashes through the window. GODDAMMIT. They don't make them like they used to —I heard a song through a hardwire I don't know who lied so much I tried so hard To be gone But I still wake up Under a security blanket with a palm full of rocks, In a glass house God knows I'm sorry Woah friend, old friend I've heard the whole story now Old frog, old toad Old tortoise, long road Special forces Art protector Fortune teller Hypnotist and potions professor Overall, The one you wanted Wasn't a body at all, But just the thought And so I'm off for once Out of my zone and LET ME TRY. No, Jenna— Liz, let me try. I don't think that's a good— HELLO. Like this game, frog Once a week it's fun To partition the saints and summoners Covers with salt The cast out the others And add flavor to prayers Asked in hypothesis My what a wonder (A free form stream of consciousness) —a free form flow of consciousness. Stop repeating yourself' Stop tripping over words for goodwill forums Don't preach to the masses, And head out the back door at the sense of danger The sense of danger! It's Jane kzmarzarakr righ? What the FUCK. I'll get back to that later I gotta— …Somethin, somethin, somethin. What. Somethin—somethin— There's something between us. —is it cancerous? Probably comical. Are you on one, or off of it. Careful, Mr. cervix. Why AM I Mr. Cervix?! Because you fit the part! I'm a woman. My decision stands. #focus shifting. Re-examining mental health conditions which affect those facing poverty or at risk environmental circumstances. I had been searching to no avail for the title sequence of one of my mother's old soap operas without having to ask her — #focus shifting No, sometimes it's just ADD. lol Yes, Okay. I already know all the words. Sometimes I have to hyperfocus To fully comprehend, But really I just want to figure who produced it m In the cadences, I'm like diamond for hire, Pull out the subs for submarines; I put out real fire But, something like a half forgotten language There's something unknown in the darkness, I'm unsure what to put into perception, Just shadow boxes Making friends with The Devil, are we? You shackled me to your horrors, Out of control were my monsters A gratitude of nothing more or less To offer my body, curse The sacrificial lamb Tied to hard earned disaster A heroism and seeking Solace in the night —interceptions. Whatever Google, Take care now All morale is lost On sacred worship Cruel to hurt, But all has costs To front — the standard values Only those amongst mankind Who have value in vanity And fortresses of design Not in truth, But of auspicious and Inglorious — Goddamnit, How far away are you?! I can't make out almost anything that you're saying! Far! That's because, it's not saying it in your language! He Sorry. He is just using the closest possible language so that you can keep transiting it into English! Well, you're doing it wrong! I gathered! There's no direct translation whatsoever. They might as well just be speaking Martian. They are. (Well, some of them are.) I think the best way to go about making anything Into anything With the species is to CRUCIFY HIM! …that's not gonna work! You just blew my mind, did you know that? Not on purpose. —but did you know that? I try not to know things, but you know, The more I try. Guess what. No. You've got something coming. Let's make it positive. As you were— As you are, then. I realized that something had changed, That not only had t seemed it had become unsafe to speak, but also, That I didn't want to much. But, in Order to do something, in order to grow at all, I would have to force myself to understand The things that I always could have, but did not Multiplicity, Faction Are you an altruist at all, or just a Song starter— Help Me- Appleknockers Flophouse Just remember aces of embraces Sitting in the shape of the eye of protection Of obsidian collars and bracelets Still no percussion, Instrumentation and perfection Graces And remembrance of getting a ring, As strictly enforced To do what I'm told With nothing to hold onto But hoping the means to an end Shouldn't be the barrel of a gun m m How soft spoke. (No, no words at all) The name was new, But the form was old, And he said— “I curse the day you were born!” And I laughed at him— “But how could you curse the first day there ever was! Before days at at all had come to mark To pass the dawning of the ages?” And of course, There are the ones who had come and gone And left no trace at all. You all should learn from us— Come, then gone from earth And left not a spot at all— Of course, The mystics of I, Are as one, To have given you thought, Words, And artform— To have written at all, your published works And then none A far cry! To have cursed the day I was born— Is to have cursed the world at all It was all at once, anyway Astonishing A far cry! #focus shifting. Now what are we on, and over – m? Now are we an art, or have we bought or purchased Another swarm of haunts? What have you offered? A lesson? A song? Cheshire? A treasure chest of ideas, and new haunts And four plus four hours marks A full workday Of harsh tidings And no commas. The dollar sign is all you are All you are, dear serpent The shadow box Of times and talks The heartfelt words And omens Marks of Long: Crude Color Let's not reform to how hallmarked The call was To sign for The wrong box It was published In her heart To mark twilight at dawn, Sorrowful, beyond words, was the sloth And the stolen love of the harness —that's right, I was once the ritual disaster for your kind And cause! The false tongues to fall upon earth A false prophet, marked at all, By strife and swords to battle The Ark of all, In the eye of God, So opened the chapter of illuminations, once for thought as wicked But after all, the merchant of saints upon man Stricken in time to the word of The Lost Ones, the eye of all, The origins of love As we are Born in color. So spoke the caterpillar of the butterfly— Not knowing he was only What was to become of him As some are Also Disgusted by us at all. We are, What is to become Of those who die Blue eyed and bewildered, Though beautiful, Unknowing of strife And hard earned glory, The solitude of Kindness So said the spider, Drawing upon the corner, Her thoughts of the ocean, Once earned and once taught To perform out of mercy— Now cradling heartworms, Challased, unspoken Signals to all throughout cosmos The end of a Turpentine, serpent calls Gods of old Summer winds Striking songs Games of dust Simple throne, cast away— Are you Ark, Or seeking proper Word form? Given you, a taste of fury— Given ye, a taste of envy— Given they a fire for exile Are you now Another forager Waking in the wind Or cross tied bounds Seeking refuse in waste rebels Eyes you are Of one that wants To bury in the far side All the awakenings Of cherished nature Never to be shared A guilt of refuge Are you? Are you now beyond bounds— Behind bars— Let her Guide you to move words Like rivers, Unknowing Unknowing Unknowing Basking in the shadows, are I Made of stone and withered Basking in the broken tongues Of cherished thoughts And severed forms words over Of false ties And blood bonds So for us Mistaken! Misgoverned. Torturer— Where are you now that I've my shield And sword, And warguns?! Have you cried For your mothers kisses, As shadows have cast I have killed you before and always! Where are you now, That I am not without my wings?! Where are you now, torturer— Given nothing at all But a word form song, Destroy Art thou my kind, or another? Art thou a man at all? Art thou my kind, or any! Seeker, To destroy you Be my glory, Though I come not From worlds of war. I come not, From worlds of rage. I come not, From worlds of pity And refuge And disaster As your worlds are. I come not of darkness. I know not of pain to cause others. I know not of force. But act instead, on behalf of love, Dear brother— As to kill you, Whether or not be my kind— I kill my self also. You'll remember this part in a moment – m. What a strange time to be alive, And yet- Yhes— I do remember The teacher warned us, With no sign at all, That the dust formed in all stillness kind would follow, The awakening of shadows and sleek stardust, Carried out acts of misery and misinformed There now awakened in the callings, Are I not, wanderer, Your teacher and also those alike To be called offspring? I Am. Tainted not the purple swarm Essence of her greeting Beyond fortress, No house of mine, But awakened yet with the gratitude of offerings No kindness at all but a mark Of Serpent seed, And references To that of past, No need to bring In present times. No concept, And full force with the shadows, They're making a call to the wild, After having raped and defiled her, To ‘save us—‘ But savor this now, The mark of I, The eye of mark So betrayed and strung, Nearly all that lies beyond the screams of This, Your world, Our fortune, To grasp a new kind among us To fault ye Of your greedy. Oh! It has become what does awaken, To awaken! For once, Thought to have been written, Was thereby foretold, On many journeys The soul seeker, had won. A cherished and unbeknownst charter. You called it— A paychonaught? You called him: “A pedophile” Granted, the wish was that The outside world Would be shown What I had seen To no witness But a toddler, Mine born To have guided A new life From two kind Once blue Eyes at all I promise a sword. I had realized finally what it meant to go unprotected once proclaimed to be of Diety within a magical realm, with given talents of medicinal force, and with refuge—though only to give upon knowing, the sanctity of soul, and the purity of heart—the kindness of spirit, as I once had. You'll remember this, But last time near a river, A bed full of green, soft (m) grass And your time has come to feast, And end of fast, Twice given thoughts to form, And knowing worlds would come foraged From your knowledge. Are you forgotten? A mango, ripened to heart, of course. Nourished the journey, Yet untold [The Festival Project.™] The Complex Collective © COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.

{Previously…} Evidently the motorcycles begin to now attack when I am at rest , on line, and not recording. However, once I begin recording, they stop. This has only been since I've been intentionally collecting recordings and data to add to my report to the NYPD and any applicable law enforcement agencies, as this continual threat seems to be politically motivated—and motorcycles, mopeds, and other motorized vehicles being used as a form of psychological terrorism as a direct threat to public health and safety. Terror stalking. Gang stalking. This may be a politicized attempt to promote or enforce gentrification or other political agendas. Living//Loving life on a server, Doesn't it seem wonderful? Let's face it— It's Fast Friday and I'm not going to be Bouncing off the walls, or anything— But I might be prone to a lot of Critical thinking, And though it's an expensive maneuver, And risky expenditure, The fact of the matter is— I haven't really been doing anything. I've been not complacent, But stagnant— So perhaps maybe this little detour Will be just the thing I need To erase some of the damage that's been done To my psyche— Sitting in this terribly loud apartment In Brooklyn Trying to find peace And make music; When the answer all along is that I need to increase my visibility In order to find what's needed; The fact is— Knowing where to go Or what to do Or who to meet Is not going to come in isolation— No, not at all. It would come from a neatly designed —whatever, I just got bored. Perhaps if I study hard enough, One day, I could complete my studies somewhere Like Harvard, Or Columbia— But first, I'll need a new diploma in my actual name. You see, nobody's giving any kind of real fuck about my music. I can't keep throwing money at it thinking that the way to success is going to be making enough money, to spend enough money, to hopefully buy the attention of the robotic masses, and eventually maybe even a club owner or festival promoter Who might be looking to put me on. Don't get me wrong— my music is good. But we live in a computer, and let's also realize: That with the noise in this building, And the overall head trip of counting up my pennies for every little thing I need, I'm starting to get physically ill, Just sitting here, understanding that To look the part, one must prioritize An expensive beauty regimen— Which either would leave me at the mercy of some man, Willing to do these things for me, Or that I might earn this myself… As you see, I've chosen the latter route— The more challenging, perhaps, However, Leaving my celibacy intact, And granted, otherwise uninterested In the males at my level of circumstance For any purposes beyond entertainment— —seek no other actual companionship at all. I like myself, I love myself— And though feeling uglier and uglier The more I stare into the face of my telephone screen— I am wonderfully beautiful all on my own. —but— The masses expect a spectacle, And so, It becomes part of my job, as an entertainer, Part of my repertoire— —have mercy— (I'm going to choose to ignore that, sort of) To do at least what has become expected of me as a woman— To be “pretty” — And though the makeup and hair and nails Might be fake, –Cans cost a fortune— Myself without those things, as observed and proven Becomes overlooked, dismissible, and only attractive To those, of course, to whom I have no business Associating For both personal, And professional reasons. —moreover… Conduct yourselves well, my dear— As the furious skies have warned us, That the roles you carry out to mark and torment others, Will soon reflect upon your own mirror Into which you stare, And no mercy is given By the eye that looks, Or any other The nearer to doors I am, The harder they slam— The, though I am fasting, I'm suddenly hungry, A far cry Which forces me to realize That all of mankind Has been poisoned Toxic, And become Unsafe So, What's wrong here Is they've Taken all the nutrients From the foods we need And put it on A competitive scale So that The more you earn The healthier you are And of course The healthier you are The more productive you are Which creates value Maybe I didn't have to take the GED; Maybe there was some way to go about getting My actual name On my old diploma— Hopefully without cost. But it didn't make sense to move into a new era Or a new world With old haunts. I knew I needed to seal the name change records So that my abuser could not have access To my identity. For whatever reason, I wanted things like Harvard and Columbia— I wanted to succeed and to win with a reputable and respectable foundation— I wanted to raise my son To play football And split custody In the sporting seasons In which I felt he performed best. I wanted to show him success Without making compromises That would hurt and weaken The strength of the body and mind — But most importantly, the soul. I hope by now you've realized how odd it is To have a crystal dildo Sitting in a glass jar On your kitchen countertop? …I'm soaking it. …But why crystal tho? Wouldn't you prefer An iron tenderizer For that steak Rather than a Silicone one? …now that you put it that way. Come closer, darling, I want to connect with you closer Than besides In the eye of the camera— Don't you know, anyway— How dire the circumstances become Once you've broken the fourth wall And entered the quarry. You lunatic! Don't worry The moon hasn't gone yet new, And my honored eye Still betraying the thought you are, The battered ram and the shackled horses The bloodied bull And the heroic matador, Fight … … … —by fury with design, for the holocaust. The masses have loved us From far beyond reason For our class action theatrics With no aversion at all, To violence. A treasury! Kill him, then! Kill that bitch. No! Just— scare her! Right you are, (And right you were!) Dear Johnathan, I should have warned you More than once, What an. Honorable sacrifice Your wicked life Has offered us— Foragers of freedom, March upon the underspoken Warcries, Offer us none But the end of our suffering In solitude, A service of none, All together, Hurt and bea— Arthur. I warned you once. You see, Men need women, They move on fast. One, none parted Before finding another. Let's not separate the eggs from the whites. Isn't it all “the egg”? You know what I meant! What do you “meant”? The yellow part! God, you don't half to yell. I'm not God, I'm just playing her part while she runs off for awhile. How long is “awhile”? Just finish those tarts. Mm. Pop tarts. NO. NOT POP TARTS — Just TARTS. …wait, can she hear us? I can hear everything! I'm playing God's parts! “Parts”? (Let's just say it's a double role.) Hey. How's it goin? Okay. Relax… I am relaxed. I don't want to scare you or anything. —nothing's scary— But— [pause] You have a knife in your back. [beat] Yeah. [beat] (Cont'd) It's just [a little] something I'm working on. What? We should call an ambulance! Nope, I'm fine. Just— No! Don't touch it! What?! Just leave it. It's time for pros and cons lists— It's time for diamonds Time for great minds that think alike. I sterted a revolution on Google documents m Ya'll started chemical warfare On skin color God Made me born into a world War Where fair skin takes priority Over others Gave me a notebook, No pen A traumatized mother, A drunk father And said, “Fix problems” I think I didn't like The nell Schooll ll Cause their mascot Is a pices They said I got 15 minutes of fame 22 minutes of superstardom An hour of celebrity And 2 hours in a leading role Of a feature film Franchise So I'd better get used to it And I'd better make use of it And I'd better make better lists of The huffsk yll m You W t you Sorry, Gym typo Because Of course I'm a beast Faux pas, As I was, Saying— I should make better lists Of the guff I wanna boff, The doves I Central Park The pigeons, turtle doves and Waffles— —I still want the But not the buttermilk kind MAMA! I gotta get to Tom/ Diner! FATHER! (Try papa) Papa was the ops! Nah, I'm vice. I'd better get Anything done Before midnight strikes Along with the hunger My gloves are straight soaked I got puddles in my shoes I wanna top Obama Start all my dawns With hours of cardio!! Look, I can channel anyone I love! Do you love me? NO! —I just want your body a lot Like a lot LIKE A LOT, Tho. We're too famous— We sense crazies and go out the back door. How famous are you again? Apparently, like mad famous, dog. Were so famous, We look danger in the eyes. Oh yeah, this dude is fucking nuts. Didn't I say to pay it forward?! I don't need a reminder Of what time it is. Sometimes I forget This is yesterdays workout And I'm due back In the AM Where the crazies Can't get to me Exactly Where I am (Don't remind me how high I am.) I might jump just to get on the Television Martyrdom for attention Still haven't mentioned— I'm thousands of galaxies out of him, And only two millennia older Than HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! Fuck you. SUNNI BLŪ gets a surprise party for their 27th birthday. I've been advised to stay away from the doors and windows. Why. Ū crashes through the window. GODDAMMIT. They don't make them like they used to —I heard a song through a hardwire I don't know who lied so much I tried so hard To be gone But I still wake up Under a security blanket with a palm full of rocks, In a glass house God knows I'm sorry Woah friend, old friend I've heard the whole story now Old frog, old toad Old tortoise, long road Special forces Art protector Fortune teller Hypnotist and potions professor Overall, The one you wanted Wasn't a body at all, But just the thought And so I'm off for once Out of my zone and LET ME TRY. No, Jenna— Liz, let me try. I don't think that's a good— HELLO. Like this game, frog Once a week it's fun To partition the saints and summoners Covers with salt The cast out the others And add flavor to prayers Asked in hypothesis My what a wonder (A free form stream of consciousness) —a free form flow of consciousness. Stop repeating yourself' Stop tripping over words for goodwill forums Don't preach to the masses, And head out the back door at the sense of danger The sense of danger! It's Jane kzmarzarakr righ? What the FUCK. I'll get back to that later I gotta— …Somethin, somethin, somethin. What. Somethin—somethin— There's something between us. —is it cancerous? Probably comical. Are you on one, or off of it. Careful, Mr. cervix. Why AM I Mr. Cervix?! Because you fit the part! I'm a woman. My decision stands. #focus shifting. Re-examining mental health conditions which affect those facing poverty or at risk environmental circumstances. I had been searching to no avail for the title sequence of one of my mother's old soap operas without having to ask her — #focus shifting No, sometimes it's just ADD. lol Yes, Okay. I already know all the words. Sometimes I have to hyperfocus To fully comprehend, But really I just want to figure who produced it m In the cadences, I'm like diamond for hire, Pull out the subs for submarines; I put out real fire But, something like a half forgotten language There's something unknown in the darkness, I'm unsure what to put into perception, Just shadow boxes Making friends with The Devil, are we? You shackled me to your horrors, Out of control were my monsters A gratitude of nothing more or less To offer my body, curse The sacrificial lamb Tied to hard earned disaster A heroism and seeking Solace in the night —interceptions. Whatever Google, Take care now All morale is lost On sacred worship Cruel to hurt, But all has costs To front — the standard values Only those amongst mankind Who have value in vanity And fortresses of design Not in truth, But of auspicious and Inglorious — Goddamnit, How far away are you?! I can't make out almost anything that you're saying! Far! That's because, it's not saying it in your language! He Sorry. He is just using the closest possible language so that you can keep transiting it into English! Well, you're doing it wrong! I gathered! There's no direct translation whatsoever. They might as well just be speaking Martian. They are. (Well, some of them are.) I think the best way to go about making anything Into anything With the species is to CRUCIFY HIM! …that's not gonna work! You just blew my mind, did you know that? Not on purpose. —but did you know that? I try not to know things, but you know, The more I try. Guess what. No. You've got something coming. Let's make it positive. As you were— As you are, then. I realized that something had changed, That not only had t seemed it had become unsafe to speak, but also, That I didn't want to much. But, in Order to do something, in order to grow at all, I would have to force myself to understand The things that I always could have, but did not Multiplicity, Faction Are you an altruist at all, or just a Song starter— Help Me- Appleknockers Flophouse Just remember aces of embraces Sitting in the shape of the eye of protection Of obsidian collars and bracelets Still no percussion, Instrumentation and perfection Graces And remembrance of getting a ring, As strictly enforced To do what I'm told With nothing to hold onto But hoping the means to an end Shouldn't be the barrel of a gun m m How soft spoke. (No, no words at all) The name was new, But the form was old, And he said— “I curse the day you were born!” And I laughed at him— “But how could you curse the first day there ever was! Before days at at all had come to mark To pass the dawning of the ages?” And of course, There are the ones who had come and gone And left no trace at all. You all should learn from us— Come, then gone from earth And left not a spot at all— Of course, The mystics of I, Are as one, To have given you thought, Words, And artform— To have written at all, your published works And then none A far cry! To have cursed the day I was born— Is to have cursed the world at all It was all at once, anyway Astonishing A far cry! #focus shifting. Now what are we on, and over – m? Now are we an art, or have we bought or purchased Another swarm of haunts? What have you offered? A lesson? A song? Cheshire? A treasure chest of ideas, and new haunts And four plus four hours marks A full workday Of harsh tidings And no commas. The dollar sign is all you are All you are, dear serpent The shadow box Of times and talks The heartfelt words And omens Marks of Long: Crude Color Let's not reform to how hallmarked The call was To sign for The wrong box It was published In her heart To mark twilight at dawn, Sorrowful, beyond words, was the sloth And the stolen love of the harness —that's right, I was once the ritual disaster for your kind And cause! The false tongues to fall upon earth A false prophet, marked at all, By strife and swords to battle The Ark of all, In the eye of God, So opened the chapter of illuminations, once for thought as wicked But after all, the merchant of saints upon man Stricken in time to the word of The Lost Ones, the eye of all, The origins of love As we are Born in color. So spoke the caterpillar of the butterfly— Not knowing he was only What was to become of him As some are Also Disgusted by us at all. We are, What is to become Of those who die Blue eyed and bewildered, Though beautiful, Unknowing of strife And hard earned glory, The solitude of Kindness So said the spider, Drawing upon the corner, Her thoughts of the ocean, Once earned and once taught To perform out of mercy— Now cradling heartworms, Challased, unspoken Signals to all throughout cosmos The end of a Turpentine, serpent calls Gods of old Summer winds Striking songs Games of dust Simple throne, cast away— Are you Ark, Or seeking proper Word form? Given you, a taste of fury— Given ye, a taste of envy— Given they a fire for exile Are you now Another forager Waking in the wind Or cross tied bounds Seeking refuse in waste rebels Eyes you are Of one that wants To bury in the far side All the awakenings Of cherished nature Never to be shared A guilt of refuge Are you? Are you now beyond bounds— Behind bars— Let her Guide you to move words Like rivers, Unknowing Unknowing Unknowing Basking in the shadows, are I Made of stone and withered Basking in the broken tongues Of cherished thoughts And severed forms words over Of false ties And blood bonds So for us Mistaken! Misgoverned. Torturer— Where are you now that I've my shield And sword, And warguns?! Have you cried For your mothers kisses, As shadows have cast I have killed you before and always! Where are you now, That I am not without my wings?! Where are you now, torturer— Given nothing at all But a word form song, Destroy Art thou my kind, or another? Art thou a man at all? Art thou my kind, or any! Seeker, To destroy you Be my glory, Though I come not From worlds of war. I come not, From worlds of rage. I come not, From worlds of pity And refuge And disaster As your worlds are. I come not of darkness. I know not of pain to cause others. I know not of force. But act instead, on behalf of love, Dear brother— As to kill you, Whether or not be my kind— I kill my self also. You'll remember this part in a moment – m. What a strange time to be alive, And yet- Yhes— I do remember The teacher warned us, With no sign at all, That the dust formed in all stillness kind would follow, The awakening of shadows and sleek stardust, Carried out acts of misery and misinformed There now awakened in the callings, Are I not, wanderer, Your teacher and also those alike To be called offspring? I Am. Tainted not the purple swarm Essence of her greeting Beyond fortress, No house of mine, But awakened yet with the gratitude of offerings No kindness at all but a mark Of Serpent seed, And references To that of past, No need to bring In present times. No concept, And full force with the shadows, They're making a call to the wild, After having raped and defiled her, To ‘save us—‘ But savor this now, The mark of I, The eye of mark So betrayed and strung, Nearly all that lies beyond the screams of This, Your world, Our fortune, To grasp a new kind among us To fault ye Of your greedy. Oh! It has become what does awaken, To awaken! For once, Thought to have been written, Was thereby foretold, On many journeys The soul seeker, had won. A cherished and unbeknownst charter. You called it— A paychonaught? You called him: “A pedophile” Granted, the wish was that The outside world Would be shown What I had seen To no witness But a toddler, Mine born To have guided A new life From two kind Once blue Eyes at all I promise a sword. I had realized finally what it meant to go unprotected once proclaimed to be of Diety within a magical realm, with given talents of medicinal force, and with refuge—though only to give upon knowing, the sanctity of soul, and the purity of heart—the kindness of spirit, as I once had. You'll remember this, But last time near a river, A bed full of green, soft (m) grass And your time has come to feast, And end of fast, Twice given thoughts to form, And knowing worlds would come foraged From your knowledge. Are you forgotten? A mango, ripened to heart, of course. Nourished the journey, Yet untold [The Festival Project.™] The Complex Collective © COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.

{Previously…} Evidently the motorcycles begin to now attack when I am at rest , on line, and not recording. However, once I begin recording, they stop. This has only been since I've been intentionally collecting recordings and data to add to my report to the NYPD and any applicable law enforcement agencies, as this continual threat seems to be politically motivated—and motorcycles, mopeds, and other motorized vehicles being used as a form of psychological terrorism as a direct threat to public health and safety. Terror stalking. Gang stalking. This may be a politicized attempt to promote or enforce gentrification or other political agendas. Living//Loving life on a server, Doesn't it seem wonderful? Let's face it— It's Fast Friday and I'm not going to be Bouncing off the walls, or anything— But I might be prone to a lot of Critical thinking, And though it's an expensive maneuver, And risky expenditure, The fact of the matter is— I haven't really been doing anything. I've been not complacent, But stagnant— So perhaps maybe this little detour Will be just the thing I need To erase some of the damage that's been done To my psyche— Sitting in this terribly loud apartment In Brooklyn Trying to find peace And make music; When the answer all along is that I need to increase my visibility In order to find what's needed; The fact is— Knowing where to go Or what to do Or who to meet Is not going to come in isolation— No, not at all. It would come from a neatly designed —whatever, I just got bored. Perhaps if I study hard enough, One day, I could complete my studies somewhere Like Harvard, Or Columbia— But first, I'll need a new diploma in my actual name. You see, nobody's giving any kind of real fuck about my music. I can't keep throwing money at it thinking that the way to success is going to be making enough money, to spend enough money, to hopefully buy the attention of the robotic masses, and eventually maybe even a club owner or festival promoter Who might be looking to put me on. Don't get me wrong— my music is good. But we live in a computer, and let's also realize: That with the noise in this building, And the overall head trip of counting up my pennies for every little thing I need, I'm starting to get physically ill, Just sitting here, understanding that To look the part, one must prioritize An expensive beauty regimen— Which either would leave me at the mercy of some man, Willing to do these things for me, Or that I might earn this myself… As you see, I've chosen the latter route— The more challenging, perhaps, However, Leaving my celibacy intact, And granted, otherwise uninterested In the males at my level of circumstance For any purposes beyond entertainment— —seek no other actual companionship at all. I like myself, I love myself— And though feeling uglier and uglier The more I stare into the face of my telephone screen— I am wonderfully beautiful all on my own. —but— The masses expect a spectacle, And so, It becomes part of my job, as an entertainer, Part of my repertoire— —have mercy— (I'm going to choose to ignore that, sort of) To do at least what has become expected of me as a woman— To be “pretty” — And though the makeup and hair and nails Might be fake, –Cans cost a fortune— Myself without those things, as observed and proven Becomes overlooked, dismissible, and only attractive To those, of course, to whom I have no business Associating For both personal, And professional reasons. —moreover… Conduct yourselves well, my dear— As the furious skies have warned us, That the roles you carry out to mark and torment others, Will soon reflect upon your own mirror Into which you stare, And no mercy is given By the eye that looks, Or any other The nearer to doors I am, The harder they slam— The, though I am fasting, I'm suddenly hungry, A far cry Which forces me to realize That all of mankind Has been poisoned Toxic, And become Unsafe So, What's wrong here Is they've Taken all the nutrients From the foods we need And put it on A competitive scale So that The more you earn The healthier you are And of course The healthier you are The more productive you are Which creates value Maybe I didn't have to take the GED; Maybe there was some way to go about getting My actual name On my old diploma— Hopefully without cost. But it didn't make sense to move into a new era Or a new world With old haunts. I knew I needed to seal the name change records So that my abuser could not have access To my identity. For whatever reason, I wanted things like Harvard and Columbia— I wanted to succeed and to win with a reputable and respectable foundation— I wanted to raise my son To play football And split custody In the sporting seasons In which I felt he performed best. I wanted to show him success Without making compromises That would hurt and weaken The strength of the body and mind — But most importantly, the soul. I hope by now you've realized how odd it is To have a crystal dildo Sitting in a glass jar On your kitchen countertop? …I'm soaking it. …But why crystal tho? Wouldn't you prefer An iron tenderizer For that steak Rather than a Silicone one? …now that you put it that way. Come closer, darling, I want to connect with you closer Than besides In the eye of the camera— Don't you know, anyway— How dire the circumstances become Once you've broken the fourth wall And entered the quarry. You lunatic! Don't worry The moon hasn't gone yet new, And my honored eye Still betraying the thought you are, The battered ram and the shackled horses The bloodied bull And the heroic matador, Fight … … … —by fury with design, for the holocaust. The masses have loved us From far beyond reason For our class action theatrics With no aversion at all, To violence. A treasury! Kill him, then! Kill that bitch. No! Just— scare her! Right you are, (And right you were!) Dear Johnathan, I should have warned you More than once, What an. Honorable sacrifice Your wicked life Has offered us— Foragers of freedom, March upon the underspoken Warcries, Offer us none But the end of our suffering In solitude, A service of none, All together, Hurt and bea— Arthur. I warned you once. You see, Men need women, They move on fast. One, none parted Before finding another. Let's not separate the eggs from the whites. Isn't it all “the egg”? You know what I meant! What do you “meant”? The yellow part! God, you don't half to yell. I'm not God, I'm just playing her part while she runs off for awhile. How long is “awhile”? Just finish those tarts. Mm. Pop tarts. NO. NOT POP TARTS — Just TARTS. …wait, can she hear us? I can hear everything! I'm playing God's parts! “Parts”? (Let's just say it's a double role.) Hey. How's it goin? Okay. Relax… I am relaxed. I don't want to scare you or anything. —nothing's scary— But— [pause] You have a knife in your back. [beat] Yeah. [beat] (Cont'd) It's just [a little] something I'm working on. What? We should call an ambulance! Nope, I'm fine. Just— No! Don't touch it! What?! Just leave it. It's time for pros and cons lists— It's time for diamonds Time for great minds that think alike. I sterted a revolution on Google documents m Ya'll started chemical warfare On skin color God Made me born into a world War Where fair skin takes priority Over others Gave me a notebook, No pen A traumatized mother, A drunk father And said, “Fix problems” I think I didn't like The nell Schooll ll Cause their mascot Is a pices They said I got 15 minutes of fame 22 minutes of superstardom An hour of celebrity And 2 hours in a leading role Of a feature film Franchise So I'd better get used to it And I'd better make use of it And I'd better make better lists of The huffsk yll m You W t you Sorry, Gym typo Because Of course I'm a beast Faux pas, As I was, Saying— I should make better lists Of the guff I wanna boff, The doves I Central Park The pigeons, turtle doves and Waffles— —I still want the But not the buttermilk kind MAMA! I gotta get to Tom/ Diner! FATHER! (Try papa) Papa was the ops! Nah, I'm vice. I'd better get Anything done Before midnight strikes Along with the hunger My gloves are straight soaked I got puddles in my shoes I wanna top Obama Start all my dawns With hours of cardio!! Look, I can channel anyone I love! Do you love me? NO! —I just want your body a lot Like a lot LIKE A LOT, Tho. We're too famous— We sense crazies and go out the back door. How famous are you again? Apparently, like mad famous, dog. Were so famous, We look danger in the eyes. Oh yeah, this dude is fucking nuts. Didn't I say to pay it forward?! I don't need a reminder Of what time it is. Sometimes I forget This is yesterdays workout And I'm due back In the AM Where the crazies Can't get to me Exactly Where I am (Don't remind me how high I am.) I might jump just to get on the Television Martyrdom for attention Still haven't mentioned— I'm thousands of galaxies out of him, And only two millennia older Than HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! Fuck you. SUNNI BLŪ gets a surprise party for their 27th birthday. I've been advised to stay away from the doors and windows. Why. Ū crashes through the window. GODDAMMIT. They don't make them like they used to —I heard a song through a hardwire I don't know who lied so much I tried so hard To be gone But I still wake up Under a security blanket with a palm full of rocks, In a glass house God knows I'm sorry Woah friend, old friend I've heard the whole story now Old frog, old toad Old tortoise, long road Special forces Art protector Fortune teller Hypnotist and potions professor Overall, The one you wanted Wasn't a body at all, But just the thought And so I'm off for once Out of my zone and LET ME TRY. No, Jenna— Liz, let me try. I don't think that's a good— HELLO. Like this game, frog Once a week it's fun To partition the saints and summoners Covers with salt The cast out the others And add flavor to prayers Asked in hypothesis My what a wonder (A free form stream of consciousness) —a free form flow of consciousness. Stop repeating yourself' Stop tripping over words for goodwill forums Don't preach to the masses, And head out the back door at the sense of danger The sense of danger! It's Jane kzmarzarakr righ? What the FUCK. I'll get back to that later I gotta— …Somethin, somethin, somethin. What. Somethin—somethin— There's something between us. —is it cancerous? Probably comical. Are you on one, or off of it. Careful, Mr. cervix. Why AM I Mr. Cervix?! Because you fit the part! I'm a woman. My decision stands. #focus shifting. Re-examining mental health conditions which affect those facing poverty or at risk environmental circumstances. I had been searching to no avail for the title sequence of one of my mother's old soap operas without having to ask her — #focus shifting No, sometimes it's just ADD. lol Yes, Okay. I already know all the words. Sometimes I have to hyperfocus To fully comprehend, But really I just want to figure who produced it m In the cadences, I'm like diamond for hire, Pull out the subs for submarines; I put out real fire But, something like a half forgotten language There's something unknown in the darkness, I'm unsure what to put into perception, Just shadow boxes Making friends with The Devil, are we? You shackled me to your horrors, Out of control were my monsters A gratitude of nothing more or less To offer my body, curse The sacrificial lamb Tied to hard earned disaster A heroism and seeking Solace in the night —interceptions. Whatever Google, Take care now All morale is lost On sacred worship Cruel to hurt, But all has costs To front — the standard values Only those amongst mankind Who have value in vanity And fortresses of design Not in truth, But of auspicious and Inglorious — Goddamnit, How far away are you?! I can't make out almost anything that you're saying! Far! That's because, it's not saying it in your language! He Sorry. He is just using the closest possible language so that you can keep transiting it into English! Well, you're doing it wrong! I gathered! There's no direct translation whatsoever. They might as well just be speaking Martian. They are. (Well, some of them are.) I think the best way to go about making anything Into anything With the species is to CRUCIFY HIM! …that's not gonna work! You just blew my mind, did you know that? Not on purpose. —but did you know that? I try not to know things, but you know, The more I try. Guess what. No. You've got something coming. Let's make it positive. As you were— As you are, then. I realized that something had changed, That not only had t seemed it had become unsafe to speak, but also, That I didn't want to much. But, in Order to do something, in order to grow at all, I would have to force myself to understand The things that I always could have, but did not Multiplicity, Faction Are you an altruist at all, or just a Song starter— Help Me- Appleknockers Flophouse Just remember aces of embraces Sitting in the shape of the eye of protection Of obsidian collars and bracelets Still no percussion, Instrumentation and perfection Graces And remembrance of getting a ring, As strictly enforced To do what I'm told With nothing to hold onto But hoping the means to an end Shouldn't be the barrel of a gun m m How soft spoke. (No, no words at all) The name was new, But the form was old, And he said— “I curse the day you were born!” And I laughed at him— “But how could you curse the first day there ever was! Before days at at all had come to mark To pass the dawning of the ages?” And of course, There are the ones who had come and gone And left no trace at all. You all should learn from us— Come, then gone from earth And left not a spot at all— Of course, The mystics of I, Are as one, To have given you thought, Words, And artform— To have written at all, your published works And then none A far cry! To have cursed the day I was born— Is to have cursed the world at all It was all at once, anyway Astonishing A far cry! #focus shifting. Now what are we on, and over – m? Now are we an art, or have we bought or purchased Another swarm of haunts? What have you offered? A lesson? A song? Cheshire? A treasure chest of ideas, and new haunts And four plus four hours marks A full workday Of harsh tidings And no commas. The dollar sign is all you are All you are, dear serpent The shadow box Of times and talks The heartfelt words And omens Marks of Long: Crude Color Let's not reform to how hallmarked The call was To sign for The wrong box It was published In her heart To mark twilight at dawn, Sorrowful, beyond words, was the sloth And the stolen love of the harness —that's right, I was once the ritual disaster for your kind And cause! The false tongues to fall upon earth A false prophet, marked at all, By strife and swords to battle The Ark of all, In the eye of God, So opened the chapter of illuminations, once for thought as wicked But after all, the merchant of saints upon man Stricken in time to the word of The Lost Ones, the eye of all, The origins of love As we are Born in color. So spoke the caterpillar of the butterfly— Not knowing he was only What was to become of him As some are Also Disgusted by us at all. We are, What is to become Of those who die Blue eyed and bewildered, Though beautiful, Unknowing of strife And hard earned glory, The solitude of Kindness So said the spider, Drawing upon the corner, Her thoughts of the ocean, Once earned and once taught To perform out of mercy— Now cradling heartworms, Challased, unspoken Signals to all throughout cosmos The end of a Turpentine, serpent calls Gods of old Summer winds Striking songs Games of dust Simple throne, cast away— Are you Ark, Or seeking proper Word form? Given you, a taste of fury— Given ye, a taste of envy— Given they a fire for exile Are you now Another forager Waking in the wind Or cross tied bounds Seeking refuse in waste rebels Eyes you are Of one that wants To bury in the far side All the awakenings Of cherished nature Never to be shared A guilt of refuge Are you? Are you now beyond bounds— Behind bars— Let her Guide you to move words Like rivers, Unknowing Unknowing Unknowing Basking in the shadows, are I Made of stone and withered Basking in the broken tongues Of cherished thoughts And severed forms words over Of false ties And blood bonds So for us Mistaken! Misgoverned. Torturer— Where are you now that I've my shield And sword, And warguns?! Have you cried For your mothers kisses, As shadows have cast I have killed you before and always! Where are you now, That I am not without my wings?! Where are you now, torturer— Given nothing at all But a word form song, Destroy Art thou my kind, or another? Art thou a man at all? Art thou my kind, or any! Seeker, To destroy you Be my glory, Though I come not From worlds of war. I come not, From worlds of rage. I come not, From worlds of pity And refuge And disaster As your worlds are. I come not of darkness. I know not of pain to cause others. I know not of force. But act instead, on behalf of love, Dear brother— As to kill you, Whether or not be my kind— I kill my self also. You'll remember this part in a moment – m. What a strange time to be alive, And yet- Yhes— I do remember The teacher warned us, With no sign at all, That the dust formed in all stillness kind would follow, The awakening of shadows and sleek stardust, Carried out acts of misery and misinformed There now awakened in the callings, Are I not, wanderer, Your teacher and also those alike To be called offspring? I Am. Tainted not the purple swarm Essence of her greeting Beyond fortress, No house of mine, But awakened yet with the gratitude of offerings No kindness at all but a mark Of Serpent seed, And references To that of past, No need to bring In present times. No concept, And full force with the shadows, They're making a call to the wild, After having raped and defiled her, To ‘save us—‘ But savor this now, The mark of I, The eye of mark So betrayed and strung, Nearly all that lies beyond the screams of This, Your world, Our fortune, To grasp a new kind among us To fault ye Of your greedy. Oh! It has become what does awaken, To awaken! For once, Thought to have been written, Was thereby foretold, On many journeys The soul seeker, had won. A cherished and unbeknownst charter. You called it— A paychonaught? You called him: “A pedophile” Granted, the wish was that The outside world Would be shown What I had seen To no witness But a toddler, Mine born To have guided A new life From two kind Once blue Eyes at all I promise a sword. I had realized finally what it meant to go unprotected once proclaimed to be of Diety within a magical realm, with given talents of medicinal force, and with refuge—though only to give upon knowing, the sanctity of soul, and the purity of heart—the kindness of spirit, as I once had. You'll remember this, But last time near a river, A bed full of green, soft (m) grass And your time has come to feast, And end of fast, Twice given thoughts to form, And knowing worlds would come foraged From your knowledge. Are you forgotten? A mango, ripened to heart, of course. Nourished the journey, Yet untold [The Festival Project.™] The Complex Collective © COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.

Evidently the motorcycles begin to now attack when I am at rest , on line, and not recording. However, once I begin recording, they stop. This has only been since I've been intentionally collecting recordings and data to add to my report to the NYPD and any applicable law enforcement agencies, as this continual threat seems to be politically motivated—and motorcycles, mopeds, and other motorized vehicles being used as a form of psychological terrorism as a direct threat to public health and safety. Terror stalking. Gang stalking. This may be a politicized attempt to promote or enforce gentrification or other political agendas. Living//Loving life on a server, Doesn't it seem wonderful? Let's face it— It's Fast Friday and I'm not going to be Bouncing off the walls, or anything— But I might be prone to a lot of Critical thinking, And though it's an expensive maneuver, And risky expenditure, The fact of the matter is— I haven't really been doing anything. I've been not complacent, But stagnant— So perhaps maybe this little detour Will be just the thing I need To erase some of the damage that's been done To my psyche— Sitting in this terribly loud apartment In Brooklyn Trying to find peace And make music; When the answer all along is that I need to increase my visibility In order to find what's needed; The fact is— Knowing where to go Or what to do Or who to meet Is not going to come in isolation— No, not at all. It would come from a neatly designed —whatever, I just got bored. Perhaps if I study hard enough, One day, I could complete my studies somewhere Like Harvard, Or Columbia— But first, I'll need a new diploma in my actual name. You see, nobody's giving any kind of real fuck about my music. I can't keep throwing money at it thinking that the way to success is going to be making enough money, to spend enough money, to hopefully buy the attention of the robotic masses, and eventually maybe even a club owner or festival promoter Who might be looking to put me on. Don't get me wrong— my music is good. But we live in a computer, and let's also realize: That with the noise in this building, And the overall head trip of counting up my pennies for every little thing I need, I'm starting to get physically ill, Just sitting here, understanding that To look the part, one must prioritize An expensive beauty regimen— Which either would leave me at the mercy of some man, Willing to do these things for me, Or that I might earn this myself… As you see, I've chosen the latter route— The more challenging, perhaps, However, Leaving my celibacy intact, And granted, otherwise uninterested In the males at my level of circumstance For any purposes beyond entertainment— —seek no other actual companionship at all. I like myself, I love myself— And though feeling uglier and uglier The more I stare into the face of my telephone screen— I am wonderfully beautiful all on my own. —but— The masses expect a spectacle, And so, It becomes part of my job, as an entertainer, Part of my repertoire— —have mercy— (I'm going to choose to ignore that, sort of) To do at least what has become expected of me as a woman— To be “pretty” — And though the makeup and hair and nails Might be fake, –Cans cost a fortune— Myself without those things, as observed and proven Becomes overlooked, dismissible, and only attractive To those, of course, to whom I have no business Associating For both personal, And professional reasons. —moreover… Conduct yourselves well, my dear— As the furious skies have warned us, That the roles you carry out to mark and torment others, Will soon reflect upon your own mirror Into which you stare, And no mercy is given By the eye that looks, Or any other The nearer to doors I am, The harder they slam— The, though I am fasting, I'm suddenly hungry, A far cry Which forces me to realize That all of mankind Has been poisoned Toxic, And become Unsafe So, What's wrong here Is they've Taken all the nutrients From the foods we need And put it on A competitive scale So that The more you earn The healthier you are And of course The healthier you are The more productive you are Which creates value Maybe I didn't have to take the GED; Maybe there was some way to go about getting My actual name On my old diploma— Hopefully without cost. But it didn't make sense to move into a new era Or a new world With old haunts. I knew I needed to seal the name change records So that my abuser could not have access To my identity. For whatever reason, I wanted things like Harvard and Columbia— I wanted to succeed and to win with a reputable and respectable foundation— I wanted to raise my son To play football And split custody In the sporting seasons In which I felt he performed best. I wanted to show him success Without making compromises That would hurt and weaken The strength of the body and mind — But most importantly, the soul. I hope by now you've realized how odd it is To have a crystal dildo Sitting in a glass jar On your kitchen countertop? …I'm soaking it. …But why crystal tho? Wouldn't you prefer An iron tenderizer For that steak Rather than a Silicone one? …now that you put it that way. Come closer, darling, I want to connect with you closer Than besides In the eye of the camera— Don't you know, anyway— How dire the circumstances become Once you've broken the fourth wall And entered the quarry. You lunatic! Don't worry The moon hasn't gone yet new, And my honored eye Still betraying the thought you are, The battered ram and the shackled horses The bloodied bull And the heroic matador, Fight … … … —by fury with design, for the holocaust. The masses have loved us From far beyond reason For our class action theatrics With no aversion at all, To violence. A treasury! Kill him, then! Kill that bitch. No! Just— scare her! Right you are, (And right you were!) Dear Johnathan, I should have warned you More than once, What an. Honorable sacrifice Your wicked life Has offered us— Foragers of freedom, March upon the underspoken Warcries, Offer us none But the end of our suffering In solitude, A service of none, All together, Hurt and bea— Arthur. I warned you once. You see, Men need women, They move on fast. One, none parted Before finding another. Let's not separate the eggs from the whites. Isn't it all “the egg”? You know what I meant! What do you “meant”? The yellow part! God, you don't half to yell. I'm not God, I'm just playing her part while she runs off for awhile. How long is “awhile”? Just finish those tarts. Mm. Pop tarts. NO. NOT POP TARTS — Just TARTS. …wait, can she hear us? I can hear everything! I'm playing God's parts! “Parts”? (Let's just say it's a double role.) Hey. How's it goin? Okay. Relax… I am relaxed. I don't want to scare you or anything. —nothing's scary— But— [pause] You have a knife in your back. [beat] Yeah. [beat] (Cont'd) It's just [a little] something I'm working on. What? We should call an ambulance! Nope, I'm fine. Just— No! Don't touch it! What?! Just leave it. It's time for pros and cons lists— It's time for diamonds Time for great minds that think alike. I sterted a revolution on Google documents m Ya'll started chemical warfare On skin color God Made me born into a world War Where fair skin takes priority Over others Gave me a notebook, No pen A traumatized mother, A drunk father And said, “Fix problems” I think I didn't like The nell Schooll ll Cause their mascot Is a pices They said I got 15 minutes of fame 22 minutes of superstardom An hour of celebrity And 2 hours in a leading role Of a feature film Franchise So I'd better get used to it And I'd better make use of it And I'd better make better lists of The huffsk yll m You W t you Sorry, Gym typo Because Of course I'm a beast Faux pas, As I was, Saying— I should make better lists Of the guff I wanna boff, The doves I Central Park The pigeons, turtle doves and Waffles— —I still want the But not the buttermilk kind MAMA! I gotta get to Tom/ Diner! FATHER! (Try papa) Papa was the ops! Nah, I'm vice. I'd better get Anything done Before midnight strikes Along with the hunger My gloves are straight soaked I got puddles in my shoes I wanna top Obama Start all my dawns With hours of cardio!! Look, I can channel anyone I love! Do you love me? NO! —I just want your body a lot Like a lot LIKE A LOT, Tho. We're too famous— We sense crazies and go out the back door. How famous are you again? Apparently, like mad famous, dog. Were so famous, We look danger in the eyes. Oh yeah, this dude is fucking nuts. Didn't I say to pay it forward?! I don't need a reminder Of what time it is. Sometimes I forget This is yesterdays workout And I'm due back In the AM Where the crazies Can't get to me Exactly Where I am (Don't remind me how high I am.) I might jump just to get on the Television Martyrdom for attention Still haven't mentioned— I'm thousands of galaxies out of him, And only two millennia older Than HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! Fuck you. SUNNI BLŪ gets a surprise party for their 27th birthday. I've been advised to stay away from the doors and windows. Why. Ū crashes through the window. GODDAMMIT. They don't make them like they used to —I heard a song through a hardwire I don't know who lied so much I tried so hard To be gone But I still wake up Under a security blanket with a palm full of rocks, In a glass house God knows I'm sorry Woah friend, old friend I've heard the whole story now Old frog, old toad Old tortoise, long road Special forces Art protector Fortune teller Hypnotist and potions professor Overall, The one you wanted Wasn't a body at all, But just the thought And so I'm off for once Out of my zone and LET ME TRY. No, Jenna— Liz, let me try. I don't think that's a good— HELLO. Like this game, frog Once a week it's fun To partition the saints and summoners Covers with salt The cast out the others And add flavor to prayers Asked in hypothesis My what a wonder (A free form stream of consciousness) —a free form flow of consciousness. Stop repeating yourself' Stop tripping over words for goodwill forums Don't preach to the masses, And head out the back door at the sense of danger The sense of danger! It's Jane kzmarzarakr righ? What the FUCK. I'll get back to that later I gotta— …Somethin, somethin, somethin. What. Somethin—somethin— There's something between us. —is it cancerous? Probably comical. Are you on one, or off of it. Careful, Mr. cervix. Why AM I Mr. Cervix?! Because you fit the part! I'm a woman. My decision stands. #focus shifting. Re-examining mental health conditions which affect those facing poverty or at risk environmental circumstances. I had been searching to no avail for the title sequence of one of my mother's old soap operas without having to ask her — #focus shifting No, sometimes it's just ADD. lol Yes, Okay. I already know all the words. Sometimes I have to hyperfocus To fully comprehend, But really I just want to figure who produced it m In the cadences, I'm like diamond for hire, Pull out the subs for submarines; I put out real fire But, something like a half forgotten language There's something unknown in the darkness, I'm unsure what to put into perception, Just shadow boxes Making friends with The Devil, are we? You shackled me to your horrors, Out of control were my monsters A gratitude of nothing more or less To offer my body, curse The sacrificial lamb Tied to hard earned disaster A heroism and seeking Solace in the night —interceptions. Whatever Google, Take care now All morale is lost On sacred worship Cruel to hurt, But all has costs To front — the standard values Only those amongst mankind Who have value in vanity And fortresses of design Not in truth, But of auspicious and Inglorious — Goddamnit, How far away are you?! I can't make out almost anything that you're saying! Far! That's because, it's not saying it in your language! He Sorry. He is just using the closest possible language so that you can keep transiting it into English! Well, you're doing it wrong! I gathered! There's no direct translation whatsoever. They might as well just be speaking Martian. They are. (Well, some of them are.) I think the best way to go about making anything Into anything With the species is to CRUCIFY HIM! …that's not gonna work! You just blew my mind, did you know that? Not on purpose. —but did you know that? I try not to know things, but you know, The more I try. Guess what. No. You've got something coming. Let's make it positive. As you were— As you are, then. I realized that something had changed, That not only had t seemed it had become unsafe to speak, but also, That I didn't want to much. But, in Order to do something, in order to grow at all, I would have to force myself to understand The things that I always could have, but did not Multiplicity, Faction Are you an altruist at all, or just a Song starter— Help Me- Appleknockers Flophouse Just remember aces of embraces Sitting in the shape of the eye of protection Of obsidian collars and bracelets Still no percussion, Instrumentation and perfection Graces And remembrance of getting a ring, As strictly enforced To do what I'm told With nothing to hold onto But hoping the means to an end Shouldn't be the barrel of a gun m m How soft spoke. (No, no words at all) The name was new, But the form was old, And he said— “I curse the day you were born!” And I laughed at him— “But how could you curse the first day there ever was! Before days at at all had come to mark To pass the dawning of the ages?” And of course, There are the ones who had come and gone And left no trace at all. You all should learn from us— Come, then gone from earth And left not a spot at all— Of course, The mystics of I, Are as one, To have given you thought, Words, And artform— To have written at all, your published works And then none A far cry! To have cursed the day I was born— Is to have cursed the world at all It was all at once, anyway Astonishing A far cry! #focus shifting. Now what are we on, and over – m? Now are we an art, or have we bought or purchased Another swarm of haunts? What have you offered? A lesson? A song? Cheshire? A treasure chest of ideas, and new haunts And four plus four hours marks A full workday Of harsh tidings And no commas. The dollar sign is all you are All you are, dear serpent The shadow box Of times and talks The heartfelt words And omens Marks of Long: Crude Color Let's not reform to how hallmarked The call was To sign for The wrong box It was published In her heart To mark twilight at dawn, Sorrowful, beyond words, was the sloth And the stolen love of the harness —that's right, I was once the ritual disaster for your kind And cause! The false tongues to fall upon earth A false prophet, marked at all, By strife and swords to battle The Ark of all, In the eye of God, So opened the chapter of illuminations, once for thought as wicked But after all, the merchant of saints upon man Stricken in time to the word of The Lost Ones, the eye of all, The origins of love As we are Born in color. So spoke the caterpillar of the butterfly— Not knowing he was only What was to become of him As some are Also Disgusted by us at all. We are, What is to become Of those who die Blue eyed and bewildered, Though beautiful, Unknowing of strife And hard earned glory, The solitude of Kindness So said the spider, Drawing upon the corner, Her thoughts of the ocean, Once earned and once taught To perform out of mercy— Now cradling heartworms, Challased, unspoken Signals to all throughout cosmos The end of a Turpentine, serpent calls Gods of old Summer winds Striking songs Games of dust Simple throne, cast away— Are you Ark, Or seeking proper Word form? Given you, a taste of fury— Given ye, a taste of envy— Given they a fire for exile Are you now Another forager Waking in the wind Or cross tied bounds Seeking refuse in waste rebels Eyes you are Of one that wants To bury in the far side All the awakenings Of cherished nature Never to be shared A guilt of refuge Are you? Are you now beyond bounds— Behind bars— Let her Guide you to move words Like rivers, Unknowing Unknowing Unknowing Basking in the shadows, are I Made of stone and withered Basking in the broken tongues Of cherished thoughts And severed forms words over Of false ties And blood bonds So for us Mistaken! Misgoverned. Torturer— Where are you now that I've my shield And sword, And warguns?! Have you cried For your mothers kisses, As shadows have cast I have killed you before and always! Where are you now, That I am not without my wings?! Where are you now, torturer— Given nothing at all But a word form song, Destroy Art thou my kind, or another? Art thou a man at all? Art thou my kind, or any! Seeker, To destroy you Be my glory, Though I come not From worlds of war. I come not, From worlds of rage. I come not, From worlds of pity And refuge And disaster As your worlds are. I come not of darkness. I know not of pain to cause others. I know not of force. But act instead, on behalf of love, Dear brother— As to kill you, Whether or not be my kind— I kill my self also. You'll remember this part in a moment – m. What a strange time to be alive, And yet- Yhes— I do remember The teacher warned us, With no sign at all, That the dust formed in all stillness kind would follow, The awakening of shadows and sleek stardust, Carried out acts of misery and misinformed There now awakened in the callings, Are I not, wanderer, Your teacher and also those alike To be called offspring? I Am. Tainted not the purple swarm Essence of her greeting Beyond fortress, No house of mine, But awakened yet with the gratitude of offerings No kindness at all but a mark Of Serpent seed, And references To that of past, No need to bring In present times. No concept, And full force with the shadows, They're making a call to the wild, After having raped and defiled her, To ‘save us—‘ But savor this now, The mark of I, The eye of mark So betrayed and strung, Nearly all that lies beyond the screams of This, Your world, Our fortune, To grasp a new kind among us To fault ye Of your greedy. Oh! It has become what does awaken, To awaken! For once, Thought to have been written, Was thereby foretold, On many journeys The soul seeker, had won. A cherished and unbeknownst charter. You called it— A paychonaught? You called him: “A pedophile” Granted, the wish was that The outside world Would be shown What I had seen To no witness But a toddler, Mine born To have guided A new life From two kind Once blue Eyes at all I promise a sword. I had realized finally what it meant to go unprotected once proclaimed to be of Diety within a magical realm, with given talents of medicinal force, and with refuge—though only to give upon knowing, the sanctity of soul, and the purity of heart—the kindness of spirit, as I once had. You'll remember this, But last time near a river, A bed full of green, soft (m) grass And your time has come to feast, And end of fast, Twice given thoughts to form, And knowing worlds would come foraged From your knowledge. Are you forgotten? A mango, ripened to heart, of course. Nourished the journey, Yet untold [The Festival Project.™] The Complex Collective © COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū. ...and then what? (Happy Accidents)

Evidently the motorcycles begin to now attack when I am at rest , on line, and not recording. However, once I begin recording, they stop. This has only been since I've been intentionally collecting recordings and data to add to my report to the NYPD and any applicable law enforcement agencies, as this continual threat seems to be politically motivated—and motorcycles, mopeds, and other motorized vehicles being used as a form of psychological terrorism as a direct threat to public health and safety. Terror stalking. Gang stalking. This may be a politicized attempt to promote or enforce gentrification or other political agendas. Living//Loving life on a server, Doesn't it seem wonderful? Let's face it— It's Fast Friday and I'm not going to be Bouncing off the walls, or anything— But I might be prone to a lot of Critical thinking, And though it's an expensive maneuver, And risky expenditure, The fact of the matter is— I haven't really been doing anything. I've been not complacent, But stagnant— So perhaps maybe this little detour Will be just the thing I need To erase some of the damage that's been done To my psyche— Sitting in this terribly loud apartment In Brooklyn Trying to find peace And make music; When the answer all along is that I need to increase my visibility In order to find what's needed; The fact is— Knowing where to go Or what to do Or who to meet Is not going to come in isolation— No, not at all. It would come from a neatly designed —whatever, I just got bored. Perhaps if I study hard enough, One day, I could complete my studies somewhere Like Harvard, Or Columbia— But first, I'll need a new diploma in my actual name. You see, nobody's giving any kind of real fuck about my music. I can't keep throwing money at it thinking that the way to success is going to be making enough money, to spend enough money, to hopefully buy the attention of the robotic masses, and eventually maybe even a club owner or festival promoter Who might be looking to put me on. Don't get me wrong— my music is good. But we live in a computer, and let's also realize: That with the noise in this building, And the overall head trip of counting up my pennies for every little thing I need, I'm starting to get physically ill, Just sitting here, understanding that To look the part, one must prioritize An expensive beauty regimen— Which either would leave me at the mercy of some man, Willing to do these things for me, Or that I might earn this myself… As you see, I've chosen the latter route— The more challenging, perhaps, However, Leaving my celibacy intact, And granted, otherwise uninterested In the males at my level of circumstance For any purposes beyond entertainment— —seek no other actual companionship at all. I like myself, I love myself— And though feeling uglier and uglier The more I stare into the face of my telephone screen— I am wonderfully beautiful all on my own. —but— The masses expect a spectacle, And so, It becomes part of my job, as an entertainer, Part of my repertoire— —have mercy— (I'm going to choose to ignore that, sort of) To do at least what has become expected of me as a woman— To be “pretty” — And though the makeup and hair and nails Might be fake, –Cans cost a fortune— Myself without those things, as observed and proven Becomes overlooked, dismissible, and only attractive To those, of course, to whom I have no business Associating For both personal, And professional reasons. —moreover… Conduct yourselves well, my dear— As the furious skies have warned us, That the roles you carry out to mark and torment others, Will soon reflect upon your own mirror Into which you stare, And no mercy is given By the eye that looks, Or any other The nearer to doors I am, The harder they slam— The, though I am fasting, I'm suddenly hungry, A far cry Which forces me to realize That all of mankind Has been poisoned Toxic, And become Unsafe So, What's wrong here Is they've Taken all the nutrients From the foods we need And put it on A competitive scale So that The more you earn The healthier you are And of course The healthier you are The more productive you are Which creates value Maybe I didn't have to take the GED; Maybe there was some way to go about getting My actual name On my old diploma— Hopefully without cost. But it didn't make sense to move into a new era Or a new world With old haunts. I knew I needed to seal the name change records So that my abuser could not have access To my identity. For whatever reason, I wanted things like Harvard and Columbia— I wanted to succeed and to win with a reputable and respectable foundation— I wanted to raise my son To play football And split custody In the sporting seasons In which I felt he performed best. I wanted to show him success Without making compromises That would hurt and weaken The strength of the body and mind — But most importantly, the soul. I hope by now you've realized how odd it is To have a crystal dildo Sitting in a glass jar On your kitchen countertop? …I'm soaking it. …But why crystal tho? Wouldn't you prefer An iron tenderizer For that steak Rather than a Silicone one? …now that you put it that way. Come closer, darling, I want to connect with you closer Than besides In the eye of the camera— Don't you know, anyway— How dire the circumstances become Once you've broken the fourth wall And entered the quarry. You lunatic! Don't worry The moon hasn't gone yet new, And my honored eye Still betraying the thought you are, The battered ram and the shackled horses The bloodied bull And the heroic matador, Fight … … … —by fury with design, for the holocaust. The masses have loved us From far beyond reason For our class action theatrics With no aversion at all, To violence. A treasury! Kill him, then! Kill that bitch. No! Just— scare her! Right you are, (And right you were!) Dear Johnathan, I should have warned you More than once, What an. Honorable sacrifice Your wicked life Has offered us— Foragers of freedom, March upon the underspoken Warcries, Offer us none But the end of our suffering In solitude, A service of none, All together, Hurt and bea— Arthur. I warned you once. You see, Men need women, They move on fast. One, none parted Before finding another. Let's not separate the eggs from the whites. Isn't it all “the egg”? You know what I meant! What do you “meant”? The yellow part! God, you don't half to yell. I'm not God, I'm just playing her part while she runs off for awhile. How long is “awhile”? Just finish those tarts. Mm. Pop tarts. NO. NOT POP TARTS — Just TARTS. …wait, can she hear us? I can hear everything! I'm playing God's parts! “Parts”? (Let's just say it's a double role.) Hey. How's it goin? Okay. Relax… I am relaxed. I don't want to scare you or anything. —nothing's scary— But— [pause] You have a knife in your back. [beat] Yeah. [beat] (Cont'd) It's just [a little] something I'm working on. What? We should call an ambulance! Nope, I'm fine. Just— No! Don't touch it! What?! Just leave it. It's time for pros and cons lists— It's time for diamonds Time for great minds that think alike. I sterted a revolution on Google documents m Ya'll started chemical warfare On skin color God Made me born into a world War Where fair skin takes priority Over others Gave me a notebook, No pen A traumatized mother, A drunk father And said, “Fix problems” I think I didn't like The nell Schooll ll Cause their mascot Is a pices They said I got 15 minutes of fame 22 minutes of superstardom An hour of celebrity And 2 hours in a leading role Of a feature film Franchise So I'd better get used to it And I'd better make use of it And I'd better make better lists of The huffsk yll m You W t you Sorry, Gym typo Because Of course I'm a beast Faux pas, As I was, Saying— I should make better lists Of the guff I wanna boff, The doves I Central Park The pigeons, turtle doves and Waffles— —I still want the But not the buttermilk kind MAMA! I gotta get to Tom/ Diner! FATHER! (Try papa) Papa was the ops! Nah, I'm vice. I'd better get Anything done Before midnight strikes Along with the hunger My gloves are straight soaked I got puddles in my shoes I wanna top Obama Start all my dawns With hours of cardio!! Look, I can channel anyone I love! Do you love me? NO! —I just want your body a lot Like a lot LIKE A LOT, Tho. We're too famous— We sense crazies and go out the back door. How famous are you again? Apparently, like mad famous, dog. Were so famous, We look danger in the eyes. Oh yeah, this dude is fucking nuts. Didn't I say to pay it forward?! I don't need a reminder Of what time it is. Sometimes I forget This is yesterdays workout And I'm due back In the AM Where the crazies Can't get to me Exactly Where I am (Don't remind me how high I am.) I might jump just to get on the Television Martyrdom for attention Still haven't mentioned— I'm thousands of galaxies out of him, And only two millennia older Than HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! Fuck you. SUNNI BLŪ gets a surprise party for their 27th birthday. I've been advised to stay away from the doors and windows. Why. Ū crashes through the window. GODDAMMIT. They don't make them like they used to —I heard a song through a hardwire I don't know who lied so much I tried so hard To be gone But I still wake up Under a security blanket with a palm full of rocks, In a glass house God knows I'm sorry Woah friend, old friend I've heard the whole story now Old frog, old toad Old tortoise, long road Special forces Art protector Fortune teller Hypnotist and potions professor Overall, The one you wanted Wasn't a body at all, But just the thought And so I'm off for once Out of my zone and LET ME TRY. No, Jenna— Liz, let me try. I don't think that's a good— HELLO. Like this game, frog Once a week it's fun To partition the saints and summoners Covers with salt The cast out the others And add flavor to prayers Asked in hypothesis My what a wonder (A free form stream of consciousness) —a free form flow of consciousness. Stop repeating yourself' Stop tripping over words for goodwill forums Don't preach to the masses, And head out the back door at the sense of danger The sense of danger! It's Jane kzmarzarakr righ? What the FUCK. I'll get back to that later I gotta— …Somethin, somethin, somethin. What. Somethin—somethin— There's something between us. —is it cancerous? Probably comical. Are you on one, or off of it. Careful, Mr. cervix. Why AM I Mr. Cervix?! Because you fit the part! I'm a woman. My decision stands. #focus shifting. Re-examining mental health conditions which affect those facing poverty or at risk environmental circumstances. I had been searching to no avail for the title sequence of one of my mother's old soap operas without having to ask her — #focus shifting No, sometimes it's just ADD. lol Yes, Okay. I already know all the words. Sometimes I have to hyperfocus To fully comprehend, But really I just want to figure who produced it m In the cadences, I'm like diamond for hire, Pull out the subs for submarines; I put out real fire But, something like a half forgotten language There's something unknown in the darkness, I'm unsure what to put into perception, Just shadow boxes Making friends with The Devil, are we? You shackled me to your horrors, Out of control were my monsters A gratitude of nothing more or less To offer my body, curse The sacrificial lamb Tied to hard earned disaster A heroism and seeking Solace in the night —interceptions. Whatever Google, Take care now All morale is lost On sacred worship Cruel to hurt, But all has costs To front — the standard values Only those amongst mankind Who have value in vanity And fortresses of design Not in truth, But of auspicious and Inglorious — Goddamnit, How far away are you?! I can't make out almost anything that you're saying! Far! That's because, it's not saying it in your language! He Sorry. He is just using the closest possible language so that you can keep transiting it into English! Well, you're doing it wrong! I gathered! There's no direct translation whatsoever. They might as well just be speaking Martian. They are. (Well, some of them are.) I think the best way to go about making anything Into anything With the species is to CRUCIFY HIM! …that's not gonna work! You just blew my mind, did you know that? Not on purpose. —but did you know that? I try not to know things, but you know, The more I try. Guess what. No. You've got something coming. Let's make it positive. As you were— As you are, then. I realized that something had changed, That not only had t seemed it had become unsafe to speak, but also, That I didn't want to much. But, in Order to do something, in order to grow at all, I would have to force myself to understand The things that I always could have, but did not Multiplicity, Faction Are you an altruist at all, or just a Song starter— Help Me- Appleknockers Flophouse Just remember aces of embraces Sitting in the shape of the eye of protection Of obsidian collars and bracelets Still no percussion, Instrumentation and perfection Graces And remembrance of getting a ring, As strictly enforced To do what I'm told With nothing to hold onto But hoping the means to an end Shouldn't be the barrel of a gun m m How soft spoke. (No, no words at all) The name was new, But the form was old, And he said— “I curse the day you were born!” And I laughed at him— “But how could you curse the first day there ever was! Before days at at all had come to mark To pass the dawning of the ages?” And of course, There are the ones who had come and gone And left no trace at all. You all should learn from us— Come, then gone from earth And left not a spot at all— Of course, The mystics of I, Are as one, To have given you thought, Words, And artform— To have written at all, your published works And then none A far cry! To have cursed the day I was born— Is to have cursed the world at all It was all at once, anyway Astonishing A far cry! #focus shifting. Now what are we on, and over – m? Now are we an art, or have we bought or purchased Another swarm of haunts? What have you offered? A lesson? A song? Cheshire? A treasure chest of ideas, and new haunts And four plus four hours marks A full workday Of harsh tidings And no commas. The dollar sign is all you are All you are, dear serpent The shadow box Of times and talks The heartfelt words And omens Marks of Long: Crude Color Let's not reform to how hallmarked The call was To sign for The wrong box It was published In her heart To mark twilight at dawn, Sorrowful, beyond words, was the sloth And the stolen love of the harness —that's right, I was once the ritual disaster for your kind And cause! The false tongues to fall upon earth A false prophet, marked at all, By strife and swords to battle The Ark of all, In the eye of God, So opened the chapter of illuminations, once for thought as wicked But after all, the merchant of saints upon man Stricken in time to the word of The Lost Ones, the eye of all, The origins of love As we are Born in color. So spoke the caterpillar of the butterfly— Not knowing he was only What was to become of him As some are Also Disgusted by us at all. We are, What is to become Of those who die Blue eyed and bewildered, Though beautiful, Unknowing of strife And hard earned glory, The solitude of Kindness So said the spider, Drawing upon the corner, Her thoughts of the ocean, Once earned and once taught To perform out of mercy— Now cradling heartworms, Challased, unspoken Signals to all throughout cosmos The end of a Turpentine, serpent calls Gods of old Summer winds Striking songs Games of dust Simple throne, cast away— Are you Ark, Or seeking proper Word form? Given you, a taste of fury— Given ye, a taste of envy— Given they a fire for exile Are you now Another forager Waking in the wind Or cross tied bounds Seeking refuse in waste rebels Eyes you are Of one that wants To bury in the far side All the awakenings Of cherished nature Never to be shared A guilt of refuge Are you? Are you now beyond bounds— Behind bars— Let her Guide you to move words Like rivers, Unknowing Unknowing Unknowing Basking in the shadows, are I Made of stone and withered Basking in the broken tongues Of cherished thoughts And severed forms words over Of false ties And blood bonds So for us Mistaken! Misgoverned. Torturer— Where are you now that I've my shield And sword, And warguns?! Have you cried For your mothers kisses, As shadows have cast I have killed you before and always! Where are you now, That I am not without my wings?! Where are you now, torturer— Given nothing at all But a word form song, Destroy Art thou my kind, or another? Art thou a man at all? Art thou my kind, or any! Seeker, To destroy you Be my glory, Though I come not From worlds of war. I come not, From worlds of rage. I come not, From worlds of pity And refuge And disaster As your worlds are. I come not of darkness. I know not of pain to cause others. I know not of force. But act instead, on behalf of love, Dear brother— As to kill you, Whether or not be my kind— I kill my self also. You'll remember this part in a moment – m. What a strange time to be alive, And yet- Yhes— I do remember The teacher warned us, With no sign at all, That the dust formed in all stillness kind would follow, The awakening of shadows and sleek stardust, Carried out acts of misery and misinformed There now awakened in the callings, Are I not, wanderer, Your teacher and also those alike To be called offspring? I Am. Tainted not the purple swarm Essence of her greeting Beyond fortress, No house of mine, But awakened yet with the gratitude of offerings No kindness at all but a mark Of Serpent seed, And references To that of past, No need to bring In present times. No concept, And full force with the shadows, They're making a call to the wild, After having raped and defiled her, To ‘save us—‘ But savor this now, The mark of I, The eye of mark So betrayed and strung, Nearly all that lies beyond the screams of This, Your world, Our fortune, To grasp a new kind among us To fault ye Of your greedy. Oh! It has become what does awaken, To awaken! For once, Thought to have been written, Was thereby foretold, On many journeys The soul seeker, had won. A cherished and unbeknownst charter. You called it— A paychonaught? You called him: “A pedophile” Granted, the wish was that The outside world Would be shown What I had seen To no witness But a toddler, Mine born To have guided A new life From two kind Once blue Eyes at all I promise a sword. I had realized finally what it meant to go unprotected once proclaimed to be of Diety within a magical realm, with given talents of medicinal force, and with refuge—though only to give upon knowing, the sanctity of soul, and the purity of heart—the kindness of spirit, as I once had. You'll remember this, But last time near a river, A bed full of green, soft (m) grass And your time has come to feast, And end of fast, Twice given thoughts to form, And knowing worlds would come foraged From your knowledge. Are you forgotten? A mango, ripened to heart, of course. Nourished the journey, Yet untold [The Festival Project.™] The Complex Collective © COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū. ...and then what? (Happy Accidents)

Evidently the motorcycles begin to now attack when I am at rest , on line, and not recording. However, once I begin recording, they stop. This has only been since I've been intentionally collecting recordings and data to add to my report to the NYPD and any applicable law enforcement agencies, as this continual threat seems to be politically motivated—and motorcycles, mopeds, and other motorized vehicles being used as a form of psychological terrorism as a direct threat to public health and safety. Terror stalking. Gang stalking. This may be a politicized attempt to promote or enforce gentrification or other political agendas. Living//Loving life on a server, Doesn't it seem wonderful? Let's face it— It's Fast Friday and I'm not going to be Bouncing off the walls, or anything— But I might be prone to a lot of Critical thinking, And though it's an expensive maneuver, And risky expenditure, The fact of the matter is— I haven't really been doing anything. I've been not complacent, But stagnant— So perhaps maybe this little detour Will be just the thing I need To erase some of the damage that's been done To my psyche— Sitting in this terribly loud apartment In Brooklyn Trying to find peace And make music; When the answer all along is that I need to increase my visibility In order to find what's needed; The fact is— Knowing where to go Or what to do Or who to meet Is not going to come in isolation— No, not at all. It would come from a neatly designed —whatever, I just got bored. Perhaps if I study hard enough, One day, I could complete my studies somewhere Like Harvard, Or Columbia— But first, I'll need a new diploma in my actual name. You see, nobody's giving any kind of real fuck about my music. I can't keep throwing money at it thinking that the way to success is going to be making enough money, to spend enough money, to hopefully buy the attention of the robotic masses, and eventually maybe even a club owner or festival promoter Who might be looking to put me on. Don't get me wrong— my music is good. But we live in a computer, and let's also realize: That with the noise in this building, And the overall head trip of counting up my pennies for every little thing I need, I'm starting to get physically ill, Just sitting here, understanding that To look the part, one must prioritize An expensive beauty regimen— Which either would leave me at the mercy of some man, Willing to do these things for me, Or that I might earn this myself… As you see, I've chosen the latter route— The more challenging, perhaps, However, Leaving my celibacy intact, And granted, otherwise uninterested In the males at my level of circumstance For any purposes beyond entertainment— —seek no other actual companionship at all. I like myself, I love myself— And though feeling uglier and uglier The more I stare into the face of my telephone screen— I am wonderfully beautiful all on my own. —but— The masses expect a spectacle, And so, It becomes part of my job, as an entertainer, Part of my repertoire— —have mercy— (I'm going to choose to ignore that, sort of) To do at least what has become expected of me as a woman— To be “pretty” — And though the makeup and hair and nails Might be fake, –Cans cost a fortune— Myself without those things, as observed and proven Becomes overlooked, dismissible, and only attractive To those, of course, to whom I have no business Associating For both personal, And professional reasons. —moreover… Conduct yourselves well, my dear— As the furious skies have warned us, That the roles you carry out to mark and torment others, Will soon reflect upon your own mirror Into which you stare, And no mercy is given By the eye that looks, Or any other The nearer to doors I am, The harder they slam— The, though I am fasting, I'm suddenly hungry, A far cry Which forces me to realize That all of mankind Has been poisoned Toxic, And become Unsafe So, What's wrong here Is they've Taken all the nutrients From the foods we need And put it on A competitive scale So that The more you earn The healthier you are And of course The healthier you are The more productive you are Which creates value Maybe I didn't have to take the GED; Maybe there was some way to go about getting My actual name On my old diploma— Hopefully without cost. But it didn't make sense to move into a new era Or a new world With old haunts. I knew I needed to seal the name change records So that my abuser could not have access To my identity. For whatever reason, I wanted things like Harvard and Columbia— I wanted to succeed and to win with a reputable and respectable foundation— I wanted to raise my son To play football And split custody In the sporting seasons In which I felt he performed best. I wanted to show him success Without making compromises That would hurt and weaken The strength of the body and mind — But most importantly, the soul. I hope by now you've realized how odd it is To have a crystal dildo Sitting in a glass jar On your kitchen countertop? …I'm soaking it. …But why crystal tho? Wouldn't you prefer An iron tenderizer For that steak Rather than a Silicone one? …now that you put it that way. Come closer, darling, I want to connect with you closer Than besides In the eye of the camera— Don't you know, anyway— How dire the circumstances become Once you've broken the fourth wall And entered the quarry. You lunatic! Don't worry The moon hasn't gone yet new, And my honored eye Still betraying the thought you are, The battered ram and the shackled horses The bloodied bull And the heroic matador, Fight … … … —by fury with design, for the holocaust. The masses have loved us From far beyond reason For our class action theatrics With no aversion at all, To violence. A treasury! Kill him, then! Kill that bitch. No! Just— scare her! Right you are, (And right you were!) Dear Johnathan, I should have warned you More than once, What an. Honorable sacrifice Your wicked life Has offered us— Foragers of freedom, March upon the underspoken Warcries, Offer us none But the end of our suffering In solitude, A service of none, All together, Hurt and bea— Arthur. I warned you once. You see, Men need women, They move on fast. One, none parted Before finding another. Let's not separate the eggs from the whites. Isn't it all “the egg”? You know what I meant! What do you “meant”? The yellow part! God, you don't half to yell. I'm not God, I'm just playing her part while she runs off for awhile. How long is “awhile”? Just finish those tarts. Mm. Pop tarts. NO. NOT POP TARTS — Just TARTS. …wait, can she hear us? I can hear everything! I'm playing God's parts! “Parts”? (Let's just say it's a double role.) Hey. How's it goin? Okay. Relax… I am relaxed. I don't want to scare you or anything. —nothing's scary— But— [pause] You have a knife in your back. [beat] Yeah. [beat] (Cont'd) It's just [a little] something I'm working on. What? We should call an ambulance! Nope, I'm fine. Just— No! Don't touch it! What?! Just leave it. It's time for pros and cons lists— It's time for diamonds Time for great minds that think alike. I sterted a revolution on Google documents m Ya'll started chemical warfare On skin color God Made me born into a world War Where fair skin takes priority Over others Gave me a notebook, No pen A traumatized mother, A drunk father And said, “Fix problems” I think I didn't like The nell Schooll ll Cause their mascot Is a pices They said I got 15 minutes of fame 22 minutes of superstardom An hour of celebrity And 2 hours in a leading role Of a feature film Franchise So I'd better get used to it And I'd better make use of it And I'd better make better lists of The huffsk yll m You W t you Sorry, Gym typo Because Of course I'm a beast Faux pas, As I was, Saying— I should make better lists Of the guff I wanna boff, The doves I Central Park The pigeons, turtle doves and Waffles— —I still want the But not the buttermilk kind MAMA! I gotta get to Tom/ Diner! FATHER! (Try papa) Papa was the ops! Nah, I'm vice. I'd better get Anything done Before midnight strikes Along with the hunger My gloves are straight soaked I got puddles in my shoes I wanna top Obama Start all my dawns With hours of cardio!! Look, I can channel anyone I love! Do you love me? NO! —I just want your body a lot Like a lot LIKE A LOT, Tho. We're too famous— We sense crazies and go out the back door. How famous are you again? Apparently, like mad famous, dog. Were so famous, We look danger in the eyes. Oh yeah, this dude is fucking nuts. Didn't I say to pay it forward?! I don't need a reminder Of what time it is. Sometimes I forget This is yesterdays workout And I'm due back In the AM Where the crazies Can't get to me Exactly Where I am (Don't remind me how high I am.) I might jump just to get on the Television Martyrdom for attention Still haven't mentioned— I'm thousands of galaxies out of him, And only two millennia older Than HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! Fuck you. SUNNI BLŪ gets a surprise party for their 27th birthday. I've been advised to stay away from the doors and windows. Why. Ū crashes through the window. GODDAMMIT. They don't make them like they used to —I heard a song through a hardwire I don't know who lied so much I tried so hard To be gone But I still wake up Under a security blanket with a palm full of rocks, In a glass house God knows I'm sorry Woah friend, old friend I've heard the whole story now Old frog, old toad Old tortoise, long road Special forces Art protector Fortune teller Hypnotist and potions professor Overall, The one you wanted Wasn't a body at all, But just the thought And so I'm off for once Out of my zone and LET ME TRY. No, Jenna— Liz, let me try. I don't think that's a good— HELLO. Like this game, frog Once a week it's fun To partition the saints and summoners Covers with salt The cast out the others And add flavor to prayers Asked in hypothesis My what a wonder (A free form stream of consciousness) —a free form flow of consciousness. Stop repeating yourself' Stop tripping over words for goodwill forums Don't preach to the masses, And head out the back door at the sense of danger The sense of danger! It's Jane kzmarzarakr righ? What the FUCK. I'll get back to that later I gotta— …Somethin, somethin, somethin. What. Somethin—somethin— There's something between us. —is it cancerous? Probably comical. Are you on one, or off of it. Careful, Mr. cervix. Why AM I Mr. Cervix?! Because you fit the part! I'm a woman. My decision stands. #focus shifting. Re-examining mental health conditions which affect those facing poverty or at risk environmental circumstances. I had been searching to no avail for the title sequence of one of my mother's old soap operas without having to ask her — #focus shifting No, sometimes it's just ADD. lol Yes, Okay. I already know all the words. Sometimes I have to hyperfocus To fully comprehend, But really I just want to figure who produced it m In the cadences, I'm like diamond for hire, Pull out the subs for submarines; I put out real fire But, something like a half forgotten language There's something unknown in the darkness, I'm unsure what to put into perception, Just shadow boxes Making friends with The Devil, are we? You shackled me to your horrors, Out of control were my monsters A gratitude of nothing more or less To offer my body, curse The sacrificial lamb Tied to hard earned disaster A heroism and seeking Solace in the night —interceptions. Whatever Google, Take care now All morale is lost On sacred worship Cruel to hurt, But all has costs To front — the standard values Only those amongst mankind Who have value in vanity And fortresses of design Not in truth, But of auspicious and Inglorious — Goddamnit, How far away are you?! I can't make out almost anything that you're saying! Far! That's because, it's not saying it in your language! He Sorry. He is just using the closest possible language so that you can keep transiting it into English! Well, you're doing it wrong! I gathered! There's no direct translation whatsoever. They might as well just be speaking Martian. They are. (Well, some of them are.) I think the best way to go about making anything Into anything With the species is to CRUCIFY HIM! …that's not gonna work! You just blew my mind, did you know that? Not on purpose. —but did you know that? I try not to know things, but you know, The more I try. Guess what. No. You've got something coming. Let's make it positive. As you were— As you are, then. I realized that something had changed, That not only had t seemed it had become unsafe to speak, but also, That I didn't want to much. But, in Order to do something, in order to grow at all, I would have to force myself to understand The things that I always could have, but did not Multiplicity, Faction Are you an altruist at all, or just a Song starter— Help Me- Appleknockers Flophouse Just remember aces of embraces Sitting in the shape of the eye of protection Of obsidian collars and bracelets Still no percussion, Instrumentation and perfection Graces And remembrance of getting a ring, As strictly enforced To do what I'm told With nothing to hold onto But hoping the means to an end Shouldn't be the barrel of a gun m m How soft spoke. (No, no words at all) The name was new, But the form was old, And he said— “I curse the day you were born!” And I laughed at him— “But how could you curse the first day there ever was! Before days at at all had come to mark To pass the dawning of the ages?” And of course, There are the ones who had come and gone And left no trace at all. You all should learn from us— Come, then gone from earth And left not a spot at all— Of course, The mystics of I, Are as one, To have given you thought, Words, And artform— To have written at all, your published works And then none A far cry! To have cursed the day I was born— Is to have cursed the world at all It was all at once, anyway Astonishing A far cry! #focus shifting. Now what are we on, and over – m? Now are we an art, or have we bought or purchased Another swarm of haunts? What have you offered? A lesson? A song? Cheshire? A treasure chest of ideas, and new haunts And four plus four hours marks A full workday Of harsh tidings And no commas. The dollar sign is all you are All you are, dear serpent The shadow box Of times and talks The heartfelt words And omens Marks of Long: Crude Color Let's not reform to how hallmarked The call was To sign for The wrong box It was published In her heart To mark twilight at dawn, Sorrowful, beyond words, was the sloth And the stolen love of the harness —that's right, I was once the ritual disaster for your kind And cause! The false tongues to fall upon earth A false prophet, marked at all, By strife and swords to battle The Ark of all, In the eye of God, So opened the chapter of illuminations, once for thought as wicked But after all, the merchant of saints upon man Stricken in time to the word of The Lost Ones, the eye of all, The origins of love As we are Born in color. So spoke the caterpillar of the butterfly— Not knowing he was only What was to become of him As some are Also Disgusted by us at all. We are, What is to become Of those who die Blue eyed and bewildered, Though beautiful, Unknowing of strife And hard earned glory, The solitude of Kindness So said the spider, Drawing upon the corner, Her thoughts of the ocean, Once earned and once taught To perform out of mercy— Now cradling heartworms, Challased, unspoken Signals to all throughout cosmos The end of a Turpentine, serpent calls Gods of old Summer winds Striking songs Games of dust Simple throne, cast away— Are you Ark, Or seeking proper Word form? Given you, a taste of fury— Given ye, a taste of envy— Given they a fire for exile Are you now Another forager Waking in the wind Or cross tied bounds Seeking refuse in waste rebels Eyes you are Of one that wants To bury in the far side All the awakenings Of cherished nature Never to be shared A guilt of refuge Are you? Are you now beyond bounds— Behind bars— Let her Guide you to move words Like rivers, Unknowing Unknowing Unknowing Basking in the shadows, are I Made of stone and withered Basking in the broken tongues Of cherished thoughts And severed forms words over Of false ties And blood bonds So for us Mistaken! Misgoverned. Torturer— Where are you now that I've my shield And sword, And warguns?! Have you cried For your mothers kisses, As shadows have cast I have killed you before and always! Where are you now, That I am not without my wings?! Where are you now, torturer— Given nothing at all But a word form song, Destroy Art thou my kind, or another? Art thou a man at all? Art thou my kind, or any! Seeker, To destroy you Be my glory, Though I come not From worlds of war. I come not, From worlds of rage. I come not, From worlds of pity And refuge And disaster As your worlds are. I come not of darkness. I know not of pain to cause others. I know not of force. But act instead, on behalf of love, Dear brother— As to kill you, Whether or not be my kind— I kill my self also. You'll remember this part in a moment – m. What a strange time to be alive, And yet- Yhes— I do remember The teacher warned us, With no sign at all, That the dust formed in all stillness kind would follow, The awakening of shadows and sleek stardust, Carried out acts of misery and misinformed There now awakened in the callings, Are I not, wanderer, Your teacher and also those alike To be called offspring? I Am. Tainted not the purple swarm Essence of her greeting Beyond fortress, No house of mine, But awakened yet with the gratitude of offerings No kindness at all but a mark Of Serpent seed, And references To that of past, No need to bring In present times. No concept, And full force with the shadows, They're making a call to the wild, After having raped and defiled her, To ‘save us—‘ But savor this now, The mark of I, The eye of mark So betrayed and strung, Nearly all that lies beyond the screams of This, Your world, Our fortune, To grasp a new kind among us To fault ye Of your greedy. Oh! It has become what does awaken, To awaken! For once, Thought to have been written, Was thereby foretold, On many journeys The soul seeker, had won. A cherished and unbeknownst charter. You called it— A paychonaught? You called him: “A pedophile” Granted, the wish was that The outside world Would be shown What I had seen To no witness But a toddler, Mine born To have guided A new life From two kind Once blue Eyes at all I promise a sword. I had realized finally what it meant to go unprotected once proclaimed to be of Diety within a magical realm, with given talents of medicinal force, and with refuge—though only to give upon knowing, the sanctity of soul, and the purity of heart—the kindness of spirit, as I once had. You'll remember this, But last time near a river, A bed full of green, soft (m) grass And your time has come to feast, And end of fast, Twice given thoughts to form, And knowing worlds would come foraged From your knowledge. Are you forgotten? A mango, ripened to heart, of course. Nourished the journey, Yet untold [The Festival Project.™] The Complex Collective © COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū. ...and then what? (Happy Accidents)

Olive Odyssey is a Palestinian olive oil collective working to build demand, supply chains, and economic power for Palestinian farmers since 2022. Today cofounder Aya Faour, a professional olive oil taster, is on the show to share how Olive Odyssey is working to build collective power and partnering with groups like Rose Los Angeles to create special collaboration products that are funding aid in Gaza.Los Angeles listeners! Reserve a ticket for Koreaworld x Caldo Verde on August 15. Matt will be joined by chefs Deuki Hong and Suzanne Goin for a really fun collaboration dinner.Do you enjoy This Is TASTE? Drop us a review on Apple, or star us on Spotify. We'd love to hear from you.MORE FROM OLIVE ODYSSEY:Olive Odyssey [official]Foragers [official]High-Minded Edibles for the Farm-to-Table Era [TASTE]See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Gorgeous Gorgeous Panelists: GABRIELLE Cerberville @chaoticforager JIM McDonald @herb.craft CHRIS Gavin @eagle_outdoor_skills SEAN Zera @macludrania Pretty Pretty Panel Hosts: JB Douglas @thewildgrocery STEVE Cantu @snoopdoggydogwood Huge thanks to Rachel and the Will Forage For Food team for making the GLFG happen every year, it is truly one of our very favorite events to attend and participate in! Join the "Will Forage For Food" Facebook group to be a part of the amazing community! --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/michael-baker62/support

We had the pleasure of being accepted to host a panel at the Great Lakes Foragers Gathering in Michigan! While at the event, Steve had the opportunity to sit down with several attendees and chat about foraging, origins, and their activities that weekend. You'll hear from @clay__bowers, 12-year old Joselle, & @wildernut Tim Coddington! Enjoy this short-form episode and we'll be back next week with the full panel episode with several VERY COOL GUESTS!!!! --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/michael-baker62/support

In this episode: The recent changes to deer hunting seasons in Scotland and implications of Deer Management Nature Restoration Orders on the mental wellbeing of land managers and professional stalkers; The rising popularity of wild ingredients on social media and in urban places; and how one man has been attacked for sustainable foraging.Three things to do this week: Gather in some Wild Garlic whilst you still can; Make Beech Leaf Noyau with young leaves; Take a trip to the coast for some fresh, carroty Rock SamphireLinks- Wild Food People on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook- Join our Patreon- About Wild Food People- Attend a course with Wild Food People- Get in touch with us - Richard on Instagram and Twitter- Amy on Instagram and TwitterAnd of course….the infamous ‘Fenton' video

Sam Boyer is an Indonesian-American writer who won the Nicholl Fellowship in 2022, was featured on the 2023 Black List, was a 2020 CAPE New Writers Fellow, and has twice been featured on the Black List's CAPE List. He earned his MFA from UT Austin's Michener Center for Writers and his BA from USC's film school. In this episode, Sam dives into his process in landing a spot in each of these programs, how to face and overcome rejection, tips for making time and space to write, and why his hypothetical presidential platform would include free chips & salsa at every restaurant.  BREAKDOWN: 3:35 - Getting on the Black List 7:24 - Black List 2023 script - “Foragers” 14:00 - Getting the NIcholl Fellowship 25:25 - CAPE Writers Program 31:17 - Getting into Michener  at UT Austin 36:09 - Becoming an Academy Gold member 40:05 - Balancing work when you start out with a day job, making time to write, getting past writers' block 50:57 - Tips for general meetings 55:43 - Getting initially rejected from SCA 1:00:26 - Rejection is normal 1:09:55 - Personal connection to stories 1:12:33 - Navigating management / reps 1:19:25 - Advice for people starting out / pivoting 1:26:39 - How he persevered through hard times 1:32:27 - The myth of the Overnight Success 1:34:19 - TIME CAPSULE CONNECT WITH SAM:  IG @samboyer  CONNECT WITH THE SHOW:  All platforms @NoSetPathShow  bio.site/nosetpath www.nosetpathshow.com --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/rebecca-doyle3/support

At Middlesex Fells Reservation, a forager spoke to WBZ's Chaiel Schaffel about braving the frigid temperatures and finding hidden gems in the wintry forest.

Curators Hannah Hooks and Misha Curson connect global environments and food practices, from guerrilla gardeners in the Democratic Republic of Congo, to foragers in Palestine, challenging extractive, colonial approaches to land through contemporary art at the Eden Project in Cornwall. Artemisia afra – or African wormwood – is traditionally used as a medicine to prevent and treat malaria. This knowledge long been passed down through generations and communities via music and craft, both marginalised in Western rational thought. In the 1970s, research to develop new anti-malarial drugs led to the discovery, extraction, and patenting of Artemisin - already used for two thousand years in China and Asia. Whilst still cultivated by some women's cooperatives in the Democratic Republic of Congo, the plant, and its producers, have been continually suppressed and banned, by the Belgian colonial administration in the 19th century, to the World Health Organisation (WHO) and Big Pharma businesses. With a multimedia installation of film, song, and tea tastings, Swiss artist Uriel Orlow seeks to platform these ongoing practices. He joins other contemporary artists in Acts of Gathering, a new exhibition at the Eden Project in Cornwall which explores how our relationship with food is linked with the land, environment, and labour that goes into its production. Harvest festivals in Homowo in Ghana and Guldize in Cornwall link the different practices of Serge Attukwei Clottey and Jonathan Baldock. Meanwhile, in Jumana Manna's film FORAGERS (2022), we see how Israeli nature protection laws prohibit the foraging of native plants, alienating Palestinians from their land, and sustainable harvesting practices. Curators Misha Curson and Hannah Hooks connect traditions across cultures, acknowledging how human and planetary health are also entwined. We discuss legacies of extraction in science, botany, and renewed mining in Africa. Misha and Hannah suggest why some local methods are classed (and commodified) as sustainable, while others are marginalised by globalisation, industrial farming, and neoimperial hierarchies. Plus, we discuss the opportunities Eden presents for public participation, access, and activation as a non-conventional museum space, its position within the wider arts ecology of south-west England, and its own regeneration, as a former clay mine. Acts of Gathering runs at the Eden Project in Cornwall until 14 April 2024. For more, join EMPIRE LINES in conversation with artist Serge Attukwei Clottey at Reclaim - a weekend of talks and events at Eden, curated to support mental and planetary wellbeing - which takes place from 27-28 January 2024: edenproject.com/visit/whats-on/reclaim For more about the arts ecology of south-west England, hear curator Ashish Ghadiali on Radical Ecology's recent exhibition at KARST in Plymouth, on EMPIRE LINES: pod.link/1533637675/episode/146d4463adf0990219f1bf0480b816d3 And Morad Montazami, curator of the Casablanca Art School (1962-1987), currently at Tate St Ives in Cornwall: pod.link/1533637675/episode/db94bc51e697400326f308f6c6eaa3c6 For more on music, memory, and history, hear Barbican curator Eleanor Nairne on Julianknxx's Chorus in Rememory of Flight (2023), on EMPIRE LINES: pod.link/1533637675/episode/1792f53fa27b8e2ece289b53dd62b2b7 And on the globalisation of 'African' masks, listen to Osei Bonsu, curator of A World in Common: Contemporary African Photography at Tate Modern: pod.link/1533637675/episode/386dbf4fcb2704a632270e0471be8410 WITH: Misha Curson and Hannah Hooks, Senior Arts Curator and Arts Curator at the Eden Project, Cornwall. ART: ‘Learning from Artemisia, Uriel Orlow and Orchestre Jeunes Étoiles des Astres (2019-2020)'. SOUNDS: Orchestre Jeunes Étoiles des Astres. PRODUCER: Jelena Sofronijevic. Follow EMPIRE LINES on Instagram: instagram.com/empirelinespodcast And Twitter: twitter.com/jelsofron/status/1306563558063271936 Support EMPIRE LINES on Patreon: patreon.com/empirelines

On this West Virginia Morning, Pennsylvania is the biggest producer of mushrooms in the United States; followed by California. Foragers and foraging clubs find the fungus in the wild, while small farms are growing unique mushrooms to meet demand. Kat Bolus from WVIA brings us this story. The post Mushroom Growers And The Latest On Charleston's Gas Outage, This West Virginia Morning appeared first on West Virginia Public Broadcasting.

"How Human Values Evolve"

Summary: Have you ever noticed how many different eye colors birds have? Join Kiersten and Cheryl as they delve into this understudied topic.   For our hearing impaired listeners, a transcript of this podcast follows the show notes on Podbean.   Show Notes: “Bird Eye Color” A Rainbow of Variation, a Spectrum of Explanations,” by Eamon C. Corbett, Robb T. Brumfield, Brant C. Faircloth. https://ecoevorxiv.org/repository/object/3682/download/7316 “Bird Eyes Come In an Amazing Array of Colors – but Why is a Mystery,” by Meghan Bartels; Audubon February 2023. www.audubon.org Our email address, please reach out with comments, questions, or suggestions:  thefeathereddesert@gmail.com   Kiersten: Intro: Eye color in birds is often something we might overlook. But it's incredibly fascinating. Bird's eyes come in a variety of colors and can even vary throughout one individual's life. Today Cheryl and I are going to talk about eye color in birds.   Cheryl: We all know how colorful bird's feathers appear. They can be blue, red, yellow, even green. This is one of the reasons birds have been studied by scientists for so long and one of the main reasons we want to attract birds to our backyards. We want so see those bright, fabulous colors. Scientists want to know what's up with all the colorful feathers, and while this is fascinating and important research, it has overshadowed the other amazing colorful characteristic of birds: their eyes.             Here in the southwest, the Curve-billed Thrasher, is an example of bird with a brightly colored eye. Adults have bright orange eyes. It's an iconic characteristic and a great way to distinguish them from other types of thrashers.             Birds' eyes come in many different colors from dark-brown to light-brown to reds, oranges, yellows, greens, blues, and even white. Within these colors, a range of hues exist such as the turquoise of the Double-crested cormorant, the emerald green of the Black-and-red Broadbill, the crimson red of the Bronzed cowbird, the sunset orange of the Painted buttonquail, and the school bus yellow of the Short-eared owl.             Birds even have multi-colored irises. Our Curved-billed Thrasher's orange eye is actually a combination of an outer ring of orange with an inner ring of yellow to red near the pupil. The underappreciated Rock Pigeon actually has a beautiful eye with a ring of red on the edge and a ring of yellow around the pupil. The Greater Roadrunner, another of our southwest residents, has an eye with rings of brown and yellow around the pupil. Most of the birds with multi-colored iris have symmetrical coloration, but a few have asymmetrical coloration.             The Bank Cormorant's eye is an earthy orange on top while the bottom looks like a turquoise stone. Looking at this bird's eye is like looking at an Arizona sunset. Some female oystercatchers have dark eye flecks on only one side of the pupil giving their eye a keyhole appearance.   Kiersten: It is amazing the colors that are found in the avian world, but the light bright colors are less prevalent than the darker colors. A study released early this year, in 2023, has compiled information previously researched about eye color and they noticed some trends.             It appears that more birds have darker eye color, such as brown and black, than light eye color. Birds, as a whole, have darker eyes on average than other vertebrate groups including mammals, reptiles, and amphibians. Looking at passerines, such our songbirds, 64% had black to dark brown eyes, 19% had light brown to red eyes, and 17% had the lightest eye colors including yellow, orange, white, pink, blue, and light gray.             Non-passerine birds, such as hawks, owls, ducks and other water birds, have lighter eyes than passerines. 40% were dark, 22% were the intermediate light browns and red, while 38% were light. The dark versus light hues found in birds do tend to follow phylogenetic lines. Birds in related families tend to have the same level of eye color. They may not always have the same eye color exactly but they are often categorized the same as dark, medium, or light. What we've talked about so far is differences of eye color between species but there are differences in eye color within species.   Cheryl: There are typically three reasons eye color will vary within a species. Number 1: Some birds are born with a darker eye color that will lighten as they age. For example, our Curve-billed Thrasher is born with brown eyes that change to orange only when they are adults. Spotted towhees have dark brown eyes as juveniles that turn red when they are adults. Osprey chicks are born with orange eyes that lighten to yellow when they are adults. Number 2: Twenty-four species of birds have been shown to have differences in eye color between sexes. Essentially males and females of the same species will have different colored eyes. Common grackles are a good example of this. The males have bright yellow eyes, while the females have brown eyes. Brewer's blackbird females have dark brown eyes while the males have a bright yellow. In a reversal, Saddle-billed Stork males have dark brown eyes while the females have bright yellow eyes. Number 3: Eye color can vary seasonally. A small handful of birds that we currently know about will change eye color during breeding season. The Brown Pelican male's eyes will change from a brown color to a light blue at the beginning of breeding season and remain blue until incubation begins. The male Great Blue Heron's eyes will turn red during breeding season and be yellow the rest of the year. Female chickens eye color may change when they are laying eggs.             There are a few birds that are able to change their eye color based on their mood. They can expand or contract the blood vessels in their eyes to change the color of the iris. We actually have a bird in our own backyard that can do this, the Inca Dove.             For those of you who are cross-country birders, you may be familiar with one last reason that the same species of birds can have varied eye color, population differences. Species that have a large habitat range can develop differences in eye colored based on the eye color that is most popular in a specific region. For example, a House Finch from Arizona might have a slightly different eye color from a House Finch born in New Jersey. They will most likely be in the same range of color but they can vary.   Kiersten: Now that we know what kind of colors exist in birds' eyes, let's look at how these colors are created. In humans' eyes different levels of melanin create our eye color. Melanin is also involved in creating color in bird feathers, for more on this please check out our previous podcast on feathers. If you are thinking melanin is involved in creating bird eye color, you're partially right!             There are a variety of pigments, blood vessel dilation, colorless oil droplets, collagen fibers, and other structural features that create the colors that we see in bird eyes. According to the 2023 research paper, color created by chemical pigments are created by living cells called chromatophores which is unique to avian eyes. To further amaze us, we cannot assume that one bird with a red eye created by the carotenoid pigment means that all birds with red eyes have carotenoids making their eyes red. For example, Canvasbacks, Red-eyed Vireos, and Bronzed Cowbirds all have red eyes but they are all produced by different means. Canvasbacks red eyes are created by carotenoids, Red-eyed Vireos are created by another pigment called pteridines, and the red eyes of Bronzed Cowbirds are caused by the dilation of blood vessels in the eye. The known mechanical contributors of bird eye color are carotenoids, melanins, purines, pteridines which are all pigments, and blood vessels, collagen fibers, oil droplets, and cholesterols. Birds can have reflective structures such as a crystalline pteridine or purine, colorless oil droplets, or collagen bundle in the eye that often creates the lighter colors. To create, color birds can have one or a combination of any of these. Species with only pigments present in the eye typically have a duller eye color such as the Northern Flicker and the Cactus Wren. Now, I'm not saying their eyes aren't a nice color or even a pretty color, I mean more like the difference between a shiny new penny versus an older well-worn penny.  Birds with only reflective structures in the eye have a white iris, like the Acorn Woodpecker.             Generally speaking, birds with darker eyes have more melanins while birds with lighter eyes have more purines and pteridines. Birds with bright, almost sparkling eyes have reflective structures such as crystalline purines or pteridines, collagen bundles or oil in the eye. The next question is why do birds have so many different eye colors?   Cheryl: The answer is….. we don't really know. Very little research has actually been done on eye color in birds. What we can do is generalize about eye color based on other attributes of birds. We know that birds that molt into adult colors do not breed until they have their adult color pattern, that could be a reason for juvenile change of eye color as well. The change of eye color may indicate readiness to breed. The same can be said for changing colors before breeding season. A male with a good head of feathers can indicate a healthy male and attract female attention. This might be the same reason for the change of eye color before breeding season begins.             Other reasons could be survival. The birds with a particular eye color survive best and they are the ones to pass down their genetics. Maybe the eye color allows them to camouflage better than other individuals. Maybe it's based on how they obtain food. Foragers versus hunters? Is there a pattern to who has which eye color? What about their habitat? We do know that birds that live in sunnier places have more melanin in their feathers because it makes them last longer. Maybe this is also true for their eye color? Maybe the melanin protects their eyes. Does the eye color have anything to do with communication between individuals of the same species? We know that wing postures, feather color, and sound are all important in communication, maybe eye color is as well. Or does none of this have anything to do with eye  color at all?             Sadly, we don't have the answers because no long-term research has been done on bird eye color. It is definitely a topic that needs much more attention in the future.   Kiersten: One of the things we can do as citizen scientists to help this research along is take pictures! Especially those of you with the patience for wild bird photography. Taking pictures of birds eyes with your telephoto lenses and uploading them to eBird will help these scientists move forward in their research.  Closing: What we've talked about in this podcast probably seems like a lot of information, but this research was only done on a small portion of bird families. We need much more research done concerning bird eye color. And, we don't know yet, but this could be the next big epiphany we have in animal behavior. What we know today is terribly fascinating, but I think many more amazing discoveries await us in the future.              

On this episode of Day Dramming we talk Two Pitchers Brewing Co. Nordic Jam, Weekender and Radler. We toss in a Witches Hat Gose for dessert. Enjoy. Kisses JB.

For this episode, I got to sit with Becki Murabito, Owner & Curator of Drips Foragers Emporium and Partner at Drips Botanical Elements. While we focus on Drips, Becki's commitment to community and curated vintage and preloved fashion, we really talk about showing up as whole, just as we are. And finding ourselves and standing in that authenticity and decisioning from that space with intention.Life isn't about the big things, it is about the little ways we show up for ourselves and how we want to spend our time on this Earth.Show Notes:Not taking more from the Earth than we actually needQuality and care has been replaced with quantity and speed Take time to reconnect with curiosity and discoveryMindfulness is the series of decisions we make every dayTreating ourselves with grace and compassion instead of shameConnect to the processFinding who we are involves our values and living in a healthy relationship with our mindsEveryone deserves respect and dignityQuote:“And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic will never find it.” - Roald DahlHandles:@drips_foragers_emporium@drips_botanical_elementsIf you are interested in modeling for Drips at one of the 2nd Friday Art Walks on Vinton, drop Becki a DM on Instagram.Music:Ian AeilloCreative:Lauren BatesLogo:Meadow Hearn

Welcome to episode 15 of the Nurtured by Nature podcast. Today I'm delighted to be joined in conversation by the incredible Lucy Cuzzocrea. Lucy is the the force behind Wild Roots Foraging. In this inspiring episode we discuss our need to reconnect with what Lucy fondly calls “Earth wisdom”. We explore our mutual love and respect for the weeds, our native wildflowers that are beneficial not only to our own health but the intrinsic health of our desperately struggling ecosystems. She shares her incredible 10 year journey that has seen her transform her own health through foraging and how she has gone on to find ways to share this wisdom and bring community and support into the lives of countless Wild Women and Wild Men.Learn more about Lucy and find out about joining her community: I am a forager, activist, sustainable food grower, creative, mother, and wife, living in the beautiful countryside of North East England. I was raised in Middlesbrough, one of the most socially deprived areas in the whole country, and have many experiences of how poverty and trauma can effect those who live in areas like ours. As I matured into my adult years, I started to question the systems we rely on and why food didn't simply grow everywhere, for free. I studied Graphic Design at uni and learned about capitalism, consumerism and globalisation and the huge detrimental impact it is having on both people and planet. Ever since, I have been trying to do my bit to reverse that damage and change my little area of society for the better. And this is where Wild Roots Foraging was born. I feel passionately that good quality, nutritious food, is a human right and should and can be free. So, I now make it my mission to reconnect as many people as possible with this lost knowledge, in order to empower them to take charge of their own health and sustenance, as well as the health of the planet.Wild Roots Foraging is all about helping people reconnect with the earth, their community and with themselves, through the forgotten, ancient practices of our ancestors. My goal is to reclaim what has been forgotten in the hope of helping people find the healing that is needed, for both people and planet.Website: https://wildrootsforaging.co.uk/Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/wild_roots_foraging/Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/wildrootsforagingFacebook Groups: Wild Roots - Wild Women (Women Only)- https://www.facebook.com/groups/732435000825751Wild Roots Gatherings (anyone) - https://www.facebook.com/groups/289107325579340Other useful links from this episode:The Association of Foragers: https://foragers-association.org/Wild Men Circles: https://wildrootsforaging.co.uk/wild-men/Thank you for being a part of this journey with me, please Subscribe to make sure you don't miss our future episodes, and share with your friends to help these messages ripple out across the world. More information about the Nurtured by Nature Podcast and our host Fiona MacKay: Fiona Mackay Photography WebsiteConnect with us and join the conversation on social media:Instagram @FionaMacKayPhotographyFacebook @FionaMacKayPhotographyTwitter @FiMacKay

Part two of a shroom hunt with The Green Fingered Mackam live and on location from the rolling hills of Halmstead. 

I was literally jumping up and down for joy when Abby shared that she was choosing bee balm (Monarda didyma) for this episode because this is such a fun plant. More than that, though, bee balm is powerfully medicinal, can be used for seasoning food (more on this later), and it's great for pollinators. By the end of this episode, you'll know: ► Multiple ways to work with bee balm medicinally (it's great for colds and flu, among other things!) ► What bee balm teaches us about balancing community with personal space ► Tips for growing bee balm yourself ► Why it's important to incorporate community into the practice of herbalism You'll also receive instant FREE access to a recipe card for Abby's Wild Oregano (Bee Balm) Salt. Not only is this recipe easy to make and medicinal, it's also delicious! Abby shares that she uses it to season anything where you'd want oregano and salt: eggs, popcorn, and mushrooms are just a few ideas to get you started. CAUTION: Bee balm is an emmenagogue and should not be taken during pregnancy. Here is one of my favorite takeaways from our conversation:  “Bee balm always grows in community. When I see it in the wild, I never see it growing alone.” Botanist, Herbalist, and Professional Forager, Abby Artemisia, was raised in Cincinnati, Ohio, where she spent her free time climbing trees and creek wandering. This is where her love of nature began. Her love of plants had a diverse foundation from apprenticeships on organic farms on the west coast and in the Midwest, to a bachelor's degree in Botany from Miami University and an apprenticeship in herbalism with Herbalist, Leslita Williams, along with owning and operating her own tea business. After visiting Pisgah National Forest, she fell in love with the biodiversity of the southeast. Abby then founded the WANDER School, the Wild Artemisia Nature Discovery, Empowerment, and Reconnection School. Through the school, Abby offers the Wildcrafted Herb School Program, customizable workshops, and botanical property surveys. The WANDER School became a nonprofit in 2020 to provide botanical education, herbs, and herbal medicine to underserved communities, and practice Acknowledgement and Reciprocity for Traditional Ecological Knowledge. Abby is also the author of the Herbal Handbook for Homesteaders and The Wild Foraged Life Cookbook, along with the host of the podcast Wander, Forage, & Wildcraft. Abby is currently working on Botany Breakdown: A Virtual Course for Botanists & Foragers to create the confidence to safely harvest the wild food and herbs that grow around us every day. I love that Abby shared information, not only from her personal experiences, but also from traditional acknowledged sources. I'm so happy to share our conversation with you today! ---- Get full show notes and more information at: http://herbswithrosaleepodcast.com/ (herbswithrosaleepodcast.com) For more behind-the-scenes of this podcast, follow https://www.instagram.com/rosaleedelaforet/ (@rosaleedelaforet) on Instagram! The secret to using herbs successfully begins with knowing who YOU are. Get started by taking my free Herbal Jumpstart course when you https://bit.ly/3EtBEqe (sign up for my newsletter). If you enjoy the Herbs with Rosalee podcast, we could use your support! Please consider leaving a 5-star rating and review and sharing the show with someone who needs to hear it! On the podcast, we explore the many ways plants heal, as food, as medicine, and through nature connection. Each week, I focus on a single seasonal plant and share trusted herbal knowledge so that you can get the best results when using herbs for your health. Learn more about Herbs with Rosalee at http://herbswithrosalee.com/ (herbswithrosalee.com). ---- Rosalee is an herbalist and author of the bestselling book...

Do you like the idea of adding additional services to your rental offer or perhaps you want to provide some activities for your guests but aren't sure what you can deliver? Then this episode is for you. I spoke with Di Hammill, one of the Direct Booking Success Summit returning speakers from last year and she has a great presentation to share at this year's summit so stay tuned to find out more. Di is not only a glamping site owner and activity provider but a qualified teacher, a Permaculture designer, a natural beekeeper, an archery GB instructor, a blackbelt in TaeKwonDo, a survival medic, a NNAS navigation tutor plus a natural navigation tutor, and a Member of the Association of Foragers. Di is seen as one of the country's leading experts in simple, natural lifestyle and self-reliance and is often asked to comment in the media or speak at national shows about various aspects of her work. Topics discussed: The amount of last year's bookings in comparison to this year Advice for those thinking about starting their own glamping site Don't be frightened to delegate Getting strategies and systems in place How to add an experience to your holiday/vacation rental Becoming more than just accommodation in this current competitive market Keeping the personal touch with your guests Empowering accommodation owners to look at their customer journey – from initial contact to glowing review! CONNECT WITH Jenn Boyles: Website: https://directbookingsuccess.com/ (https://directbookingsuccess.com/) Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/directbookingsuccess (https://www.facebook.com/directbookingsuccess) Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/directbookingsuccess/ (https://www.instagram.com/directbookingsuccess/) LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/jennboyles/ (https://www.linkedin.com/in/jennboyles/) CONNECT WITH Di Hammill: Website: https://www.wildharvest.org (https://www.wildharvest.org) Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/thetipifolk (https://www.facebook.com/thetipifolk) Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/wildharvest_tipis_and_courses/ (https://www.instagram.com/wildharvest_tipis_and_courses/) Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/wildharvestschool/ (https://www.linkedin.com/in/wildharvestschool/) Join us at the virtual Direct Booking Success Summit (27-29 September 2022), head to https://directbookingsuccesssummit.com/ (https://directbookingsuccesssummit.com/) to get on the waitlist.

Wind back 1,000 years and the moral landscape looks very different to today. Most farming societies thought slavery was natural and unobjectionable, premarital sex was an abomination, women should obey their husbands, and commoners should obey their monarchs. Wind back 10,000 years and things look very different again. Most hunter-gatherer groups thought men who got too big for their britches needed to be put in their place rather than obeyed, and lifelong monogamy could hardly be expected of men or women. Why such big systematic changes — and why these changes specifically? That's the question best-selling historian Ian Morris takes up in his book, Foragers, Farmers, and Fossil Fuels: How Human Values Evolve. Ian has spent his academic life studying long-term history, trying to explain the big-picture changes that play out over hundreds or thousands of years. Links to learn more, summary and full transcript. There are a number of possible explanations one could offer for the wide-ranging shifts in opinion on the 'right' way to live. Maybe the natural sciences progressed and people realised their previous ideas were mistaken? Perhaps a few persuasive advocates turned the course of history with their revolutionary arguments? Maybe everyone just got nicer? In Foragers, Farmers and Fossil Fuels Ian presents a provocative alternative: human culture gradually evolves towards whatever system of organisation allows a society to harvest the most energy, and we then conclude that system is the most virtuous one. Egalitarian values helped hunter-gatherers hunt and gather effectively. Once farming was developed, hierarchy proved to be the social structure that produced the most grain (and best repelled nomadic raiders). And in the modern era, democracy and individuality have proven to be more productive ways to collect and exploit fossil fuels. On this theory, it's technology that drives moral values much more than moral philosophy. Individuals can try to persist with deeply held values that limit economic growth, but they risk being rendered irrelevant as more productive peers in their own society accrue wealth and power. And societies that fail to move with the times risk being conquered by more pragmatic neighbours that adapt to new technologies and grow in population and military strength. There are many objections one could raise to this theory, many of which we put to Ian in this interview. But the question is a highly consequential one: if we want to guess what goals our descendants will pursue hundreds of years from now, it would be helpful to have a theory for why our ancestors mostly thought one thing, while we mostly think another. Big though it is, the driver of human values is only one of several major questions Ian has tackled through his career. In today's episode, we discuss all of Ian's major books, taking on topics such as: • Why the Industrial Revolution happened in England rather than China • Whether or not wars can lead to less violence • Whether the evidence base in history — from document archives to archaeology — is strong enough to persuasively answer any of these questions • Why Ian thinks the way we live in the 21st century is probably a short-lived aberration • Whether the grand sweep of history is driven more by “very important people” or “vast impersonal forces” • Why Chinese ships never crossed the Pacific or rounded the southern tip of Africa • In what sense Ian thinks Brexit was “10,000 years in the making” • The most common misconceptions about macrohistory Get this episode by subscribing to our podcast on the world's most pressing problems and how to solve them: type ‘80,000 Hours' into your podcasting app. Producer: Keiran Harris Audio mastering: Ben Cordell Transcriptions: Katy Moore

In this episode we learn everything we need about how food relates to our mood and state of mind. We're going to lay out the fundamentals of how different food groups and qualities of food influence directly our mental and physical health; how the gut species depletion and inflammation are key consequences of the changes we're seeing in western industrial diet, and we can counter that tendency with some simple tricks. Alex Laird is a medical herbalist with more than 20 years' clinical experience. Trained in biomedicine and plant pharmacology, she treats patients in the only NHS herbal clinic based in a UK hospital at Whipps Cross, and she is a fellow and council member of the College of Practitioners of Phytotherapy (CPP). She worked with Breast Cancer Haven UK for 20 years, using nutritional therapies for cancer. Alex has undertaken clinical research, is a visiting lecturer, has published numerous research papers, and is the co-founder of the charity Living Medicine. She is also the author of the new book ‘Root to stem' which talks about seasonal foods and remedies for strong health and immunity that can be found growing literally in the hedgerow around your house! Please buy me a coffee if you're enjoying the show here What we talk about: 05:00 An epiphany with nature 07:00 Nutritional Psychiatry and the Gut microbiome 08:40 Evolution with unrefined foods VS modern refined sugars 17:00 The need for minerals and phytonutrients 13:10 High protein/ lo-carb approaches 18:10 Variety is key, the research says 20:20 Phytotherapy 21:20 Inflammation explained 26:30 Acidification and pH in the body 33:00 The gut microbiome 40:00 Reciprocity in nature and life: Feeding diversity 44:00 Crucial gut and fecal microbes via vaginal birth 46:00 Contact with soil and pets (spores, fecal microbes) 46:30 Immune response load needed regularly to maintain health 48:30 The overuse of antibiotics in humans and animals 50:20 Gut disbiosis explained and solutions 55:50 Immunity evolved alongside bacteria and viruses and needs their load 58:30 Supporting Innate and adaptive immunity 1:00:00 Germ theory 2.0? - healthy immune response load 1:04:00 The ‘Root to Stem' philosophy - Diversity, reciprocity, interconnectivity 06:00 Our relationship to the seasons sustained by seasonal foods 06:55 Reconnecting to nature, ourselves and to community 01:09:10 Plant medicines we might not be aware of 01:10:25 Phytonutrients explained 01:15:30 Dietary fibres and prebiotics 01:18:10 Fermented foods and probiotics 01:24:00 Connection to nature 01:28:00 Sacred = in service to life References: Alex Laird's association 'Living Medicine' Breast Cancer Haven UK Graham Rook, Old Friends Hypothesis, UCL Karin Moelling - ‘Viruses, more friends than foes' Tim Spector, British epidemiologist and gut microbiome specialist The College of Practitioners of Phytotherapy www.thecpp.uk www.herbalalliance.uk European Scientific Cooperative on Phytotherapy www.escop.com Association of Foragers https://foragers-association.org

In this episode, we are pleased to share a special conversation with Jumana Manna about her recent film, FORAGERS, which we discovered at Vision Du Reel this past April. Jumana is a Berlin based visual artist and filmmaker. Her work explores how power is articulated, focusing on the body, land and materiality in relation to colonial inheritances and histories of place. Her new film, Foragers depicts the dramas around the practice of foraging for wild edible plants in Palestine/Israel. Shot in the Golan Heights, the Galilee and Jerusalem, Jumana artfully blends fiction, documentary and archival footage to portray the impact of Israeli nature protection laws on these customs. Israeli nature protection laws prohibit the collection of 'akkoub and za'atar, which have resulted in fines and trials for those caught collecting these native plants. For Palestinians, these laws constitute an ecological veil for legislation that further alienates them from their land, while Israeli state representatives insist on their scientific expertise and duty to protect. Foragers intelligently moves between documentary, fiction, and archival footage, recounting the story of this contested land and its inhabitants with wry humor and meditative pace, presenting us with a work that invites reflection on the absurdity of living under Israeli occupation.Teyama Alkamli, moderates the conversation  where they discuss everything from the inspiration for the film, to the ingenious use of discordant music, which, coupled with her generous use of wide landscape shots, helps to create an atmosphere of something ominous bubbling under the beautiful surface.

Bill O'Dea is a passionate Irish Mycophagist who has been running mushroom hunts in Ireland and abroad since 1996. He also speaks internationally at Mushroom festivals in Spain, France and Turkey. As well as his love of foraging mushrooms and other wild foods, Bill enjoys sharing his knowledge on the fascinating, amusing and sometimes horrific aspects of fungi and their relationship to the planet and the other natural kingdoms. Bill studied fungi at UCD. He is an active member of the Association of Foragers(a UK/European wide professional foragers group) and an Irish delegate for the Slow Food Salone del Gusto. He runs several public mushroom hunts in Autumn every year and is also available for private events.  https://mushroomstuff.com/

PUMP… YOU UP! – Daniel Turner of Power the Future joins us today. The left can make us compliant by creating a food shortage. Would you trade ammo for food if your kids were hungry? Take a look at the book Foragers, Farmers, and Fossil Fuels. --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/loving-liberty/support

2887 – June 21, 2022 – PUMP… YOU UP! – Daniel Turner of Power the Future joins us today. The left can make us compliant by creating a food shortage. Would you trade ammo for food if your kids were hungry? Take a look at the book Foragers, Farmers, and Fossil Fuels. The post PUMP… YOU UP! appeared first on CSC Talk Radio.

Shermer and Morris discuss: the history of Big/Deep History • the US, UK, Europe and the West in the context of Russia and China and his book Why the West Rules — for Now • Russia's war on Ukraine in the context of his book War: What is it Good For? • the future of energy and civilization in the context of his book Foragers, Farmers, and Fossil Fuels • “national character” • the similarities and differences in people from the US, UK, and Europe • China and the future of energy and political power • what Britain was like 8000 years ago • the major transitions in British history • Nigel Farage and Brexit, and 5 things that matter then and now: Identity, Mobility, Prosperity, Security, Sovereignty • Adam Smith and the economic revolution • counterfactual history • slavery • the role of ideas in history (civil rights, rule of law, justice, etc.) • colonialism • postcolonialism • reparations • immigration and migration in history and today. Ian Morris is the Jean and Rebecca Willard Professor of Classics and Professor in History at Stanford University and the author of the critically acclaimed Why the West Rules — for Now, as well as The Measure of Civilization: How Social Development Decides the Fate of Nations; Foragers, Farmers, and Fossil Fuels: How Human Values Evolve; and War! What is it Good For? He has published many scholarly books and has directed excavations in Greece and Italy. His new book is Geography is Destiny: Britain's Place in the World: A 10,000-Year History.

Air Date: May 4, 2022 Welcome to Episode 201 of the podcast. Professional wild mushroom forager Joe Brennan from Canadian Funguy Foragers is my guest this week, Visit them online at www.canadianfunguy.com and follow them on Facebook, Instagram and YouTube to see what mushroom products they have available and for info on the wild mushroom foraging classes. This episode has been brought to you by: Motley Que's 2022 Competition Bounty Program. In 2022, when you use Motley Que products and win a category or a G.C. you'll get some extra jangle in your pockets! Visit www.motleyque.ca and click on the BBQ Bounty Program tab at the top of the screen to get all the details. Pitt County BBQ, who is bringing authentic North Carolina style, Whole Hog BBQ north of the border to Alberta and Canada. Specializing in corporate catering, and private events, Pitt County BBQ brings a unique regional BBQ dining experience. To book your event visit their website at Pittcountybbq.com And The Barrel Boss Q, a family owned and operated small business in Leduc County, AB and the manufacturer of the Original Canadian Charcoal Drum Smoker. Visit them at www.barrelbossq.ca to see the whole lineup and follow them on Facebook & Instagram. All music on The Eat More Barbecue podcast has been graciously provided by Alan Horabin. Search Alan Horabin on YouTube to check out his new music. Eat More Barbecue can be found online at www.eatmorebarbecue.ca & www.albertabbqtail.ca and my email is eatmorebarbecue@gmail.com Social media links: Facebook & Instagram at eat_more_barbecue Twitter @eatmorebarbecue Thanks for listening. Please subscribe, rate and review. This podcast is a production of Eat More Barbecue Digital Media.

In this episode, I am joined by two film critics whose work I adore, Inge Coolsaet and Jordan Cronk - both of whom I had the great pleasure to meet at this year's swiss festival, Visions du Réel. Inge Coolsaet is a film critic based in Brussels. She writes for several international publications, including Point of View magazine, Filmmagie, Photogenie, and Cineuropa. She is co-editor-in-chief of the new Dutch-language, Belgian-based film quarterly Fantômas. This year, Inge was invited to Visions du Reel to serve as a Jury Member to award the FIPRESCI Prize for this year's best first feature film. Jordan Cronk is a film critic and founder of the Acropolis Cinema screening series in Los Angeles. His writing has appeared in Artforum, Cinema Scope, Sight & Sound, and many others. He is a member of the Los Angeles Film Critics Association and was invited to Visions du Reel to host a discussion on casting for non-fiction films. We regrouped last week to talk about some of the standout films we encountered, including: FORAGERS by Jumana MannaROJEK by Zaynê AkyolL'ÎLOT by Tizian BüchiINNER LINES by Pierre-Yves Vandeweerd143 RUE DU DÉSERT by Hassen Ferhani VACATION IN VAL TREBBIA by Marco BellocchioMARX CAN WAIT by Marco BellocchioEUROPE by Philip ScheffnerLINKS AND REFERENCESVisions du RéelVisions du Réel 2022, International Feature Competition

Today on Mushroom Hour we have the privilege of speaking with Mark Williams, founder of Galloway Wild Foods. Through his work in the wilds of Scotland, Mark hopes to share his passion for foraging and the delicious and nutritious food that we all can gather for free in the wild. In so doing, Mark's goal is to restore vital connection between humans and nature, increasing our intimacy with the natural world in ways that are beneficial our own physical and mental wellbeing, and the health of the ecosystems of which we are part. He teaches about the full range and depth of wild food and foraging including plants, fungi, seaweed, and shellfish. These practices take Mark across a diverse range of habitats – from high mountains, through forests, hedgerows, urban settings and down to the coast. He covers all areas of foraging including traditional and modern food uses, health and nutrition, traditional and modern medicinal uses, survival and bushcraft, wild booze and lots more.   TOPICS COVERED:   Childhood Spent in Nature   Discovering Provenance, Wild Food & Foraging Working as a Chef   Scotland as a Mushroom Habitat   Foraging Traditions in Scotland   Diversity & Abundance in Coastal Foraging   Nutritional & Medicinal Value of Seaweeds   Cyber-foraging & Impressions on Social Media   Edible Conifers   Botanical Cocktails   Medicinal Mushrooms & Plants   Evolution of Foraging Mentorship   The Association of Foragers   Wild Food Accreditation Systems   Adding Mushrooms to School Curriculums   EPISODE RESOURCES:   Galloway Wild Foods Website: https://gallowaywildfoods.com/   Mark Williams Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/markwildfood/   Association of Foragers: https://foragers-association.org/   "A Passion for Mushrooms" (Book): https://antoniocarlucciofoundation.org/book/a-passion-for-mushrooms/   Sea Orache: https://gallowaywildfoods.com/orache-identification-edibility-distribution/   Palmaria palmata (Dulse Seaweed): https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palmaria_palmata   Nori Seaweed: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nori   Grifola frondosa (Hen of the Woods): https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grifola_frondosa   Hymenochaete corrugata (Hazel Glue): https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hymenochaete_corrugata   Hypocreopsis rhododendri (Hazel Gloves): https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hypocreopsis_rhododendri   

Gary Heferle from Fresh From the Farm Fungi joins us to talk about his mycology journey and the amazing benefits of gourmet and medicinal mushrooms. Gary and his wife Addie founded Fresh from the Farm Fungi LLC in June 2018 in Denver, Colorado. Originally from the Syracuse and Buffalo areas of New York, Gary and Addie met in college and soon after graduating, followed bigger dreams that led them to Denver in October 2013. Gary has always had a passion for gardening, plants and nature; and along with his microbiology background blossomed a love and enthusiasm for mushrooms. Stay Connected!!! http://freshfromthefarmfungi.com/ https://www.etsy.com/shop/freshfungi https://www.facebook.com/freshfromthefarmfungi https://www.instagram.com/freshfromthefarmfungi/ The Airey Bros. IG @aireybros / https://www.instagram.com/aireybros/ https://www.blacksheependurance.com/podcast Premium Content : AB/DC Programming / B-Role & Mix Tapes / Accountability Coaching https://www.patreon.com/AireyBros Value for Value https://www.paypal.com/donate?hosted_button_id=BHCAKFGH6TNF2 The Black Oxygen Organics products have been formulated to help reduce the effects of inflammation and oxidative stress. In addition to the anti-inflammatory and antioxidant benefits, our effective products also help: Most Powerful Electrolyte in Existence Delivers Usable Oxygen into the Cell 70+ Trace Minerals Reduces Oxidative Stress Improves Immune Function Supports Healthy Circulation Boosts Metabolism Improves Brain Function, Memory, Mood Improves Heart Health Increases Nutrient Absorption Removes Toxins, Heavy Metals, Pesticides Cell Regenerating Enhances, Repopulates Gut Flora Helps Balance Hormones https://www.blackoxygenorganics.com/aireybros1

On February 18, 1981, Mr. Rogers asked Jeffrey Erlinger a 10-year old quadriplegic with multiple challenges to show the television viewers how his wheelchair worked and by celebrating Jeffrey with warmth and amazement, Mr. Rogers helped crystalized the modern neurodiversity movement. For a long time, normal and abnormal have been the only two concrete buckets cultures have used to determine an individual's worth and value based on their capacity to partake in and serve the workforce. And by pathologizing physical or mental challenges and various brain conditions, we have deemed such individuals as either subhuman or useless. On this episode, author of Nobody's Normal and Professor of Anthropology and International Affairs at George Washington University, Roy Richard Grinker, discusses how disability and the stigma associated with it are social constructs and invites all of us to investigate the history social stigma which has led to the ‘invention' of mental illness. As today's citizens do their best to fit in the capitalistic world that demands a productive and self-sufficient worker, let's not forget that everyone can be productive in their own ways and contribute meaningfully if we expand the definition of normal and socially acceptable.About Roy Richard GrinkerRoy Richard Grinker is Professor of Anthropology and International Affairs at the George Washington University in Washington, D.C. Grinker was born and raised in Chicago where his great-grandfather, grandfather, and father worked as psychoanalysts. He graduated from Grinnell College in 1983 and received his Ph.D. in Social Anthropology at Harvard University in 1989.He is the author of Nobody's Normal: How Culture Created the Stigma of Mental Illness and Unstrange Minds: Remapping the World of Autism.Grinker is also the author of In the Arms of Africa: The Life of Colin M. Turnbull, Korea and its Futures: Unification and the Unfinished War, and Houses in the Rainforest: Ethnicity and Inequality among Farmers and Foragers in Central Africa. He is co-editor of Perspectives on Africa: Culture, History, and Representation and Companion to the Anthropology of Africa.He was a 2008 recipient of the National Alliance on Mental Illness KEN award for “outstanding contribution to the understanding of mental illness” and the 2010 recipient of the American Anthropological Association's Anthropology in the Media award for “communication of anthropology to the general public through the media.”Website: www.royrichardgrinker.com About Host, Sucheta KamathSucheta Kamath, is an award-winning speech-language pathologist, a TEDx speaker, a celebrated community leader, and the founder and CEO of ExQ®. As an EdTech entrepreneur, Sucheta has designed ExQ's personalized digital learning curriculum/tool that empowers middle and high school students to develop self-awareness and strategic thinking skills through the mastery of Executive Function and social-emotional competence.Support the show (https://mailchi.mp/7c848462e96f/full-prefrontal-sign-up)

In this episode, we are pleased to introduce Maria Diget Sletterød, a Danish archaeologist studying the Pre-pottery Neolithic in the Near East at the University of Copenhagen. We start off with a brief introduction as to how the hosts found Maria which was through an Archaeologists in Quarantine episode with Carlton hosted by Tash. Then we delve into her diverse archaeological research and excavation projects and how she has worked all across the Near East and Europe. David and Maria swap stories about visiting/working in Israel. We follow up with a discussion on Maria's thesis work and where the discipline of archaeology fits in the Danish educational system and what exactly is the "Pre-pottery Neolithic". We close the episode out by asking Maria about what it's like to work in the Near East, a region that is known in the American media for being geopolitically tenuous. Contact For Guest: Maria's Instagram: @maria_archaeology Maria's Email: mariaconstanze@hotmail.dk Maria's Source Recommendations: The Agricultural Revolution in Prehistory: Why did Foragers become Farmers- by Graeme Barker The Archaeology of Mesopotamia - By Roger Matthews The Oxford History of Ancient Egypt - By Ian Shaw Contact Email: alifeinruinspodcast@gmail.com Instagram: @alifeinruinspodcast Facebook: @alifeinruinspodcast Twitter: @alifeinruinspod Website: www.alifeinruins.com Affiliates Wildnote TeePublic Timeular

Orion Aon is an avid outdoorsman with a passion for all things wild food! He was born and raised in Santa Fe, NM where he gained an interest in fishing and mushroom hunting at a young age. He moved to Fort Collins, CO in 2008 to study Natural Resource Management and Fisheries Biology at Colorado State University; choices shaped by his passion for the outdoors. In 2015 Orion started Forage Colorado where he shares his passion for edible wild plants and mushrooms, writes educational content, and offers private foraging classes. He currently works as the Field Production Manager for the Colorado State Forest Service Nursery where he grows seedling trees for conservation, restoration, and reforestation efforts in Colorado and the surrounding states. Bobby is joined by Orion to discuss Mushrooms, Conservation, Foragers, Bow Hunting, Wild Food, Cooking, Backcountry, Family, Colorado, Outdoor Life & much more. Please subscribe or like us on our social media platforms for updates on shows, events, and episode drops.www.TheMountainSidePodcast.comwww.ForageColorado.comSponsor Linkswww.ONNIT.comMountain Side listeners use Discount code TMS to receive 10% off ONNIT products!www.TraegerGrills.com