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Welcome to the Valhalla Club!Join Matt, Alex, and (sometimes audible) John, as we jump into two new scenarios to review. On this episode we try to work with John's garbled transmission as we review the hated/venerated Wolfnet's "Bunkers" scenario as well as the Death from Above Wargaming scenario "Intercept".Join us as we deep dive into dissecting various scenarios that we love, hate, or just pass the time with! If you'd like to see us review your favorite scenario or most despised mission, let us know about it in the Valhalla Club Podcast Discord.Host: Matt "The Northman"Guests: Alex, John “Caveman”Join us on The Valhalla Club Podcast Discord Server and Facebook GroupEmail us at: thevalhallaclub@outlook.comSupport the show! PatreonThis Episode is proudly sponsored by Aries Games and Miniatures where you can find everything you need for your Battletech addiction.

VLOG Oct 4: SBF Day 2 jury selection, then opening arguments - with no "advice of counsel" in it, book: https://amazon.com/dp/B0CFCJ68PS Yesterday: https://innercitypress.com/sbf1juryselectionicp100323.html… https://matthewrussellleeicp.substack.com/p/extra-amid-sbf-jury-selection-many… also, Trump gag order, public figures; Celsius' Mashinsky garbled, UN corrupt

VLOG II of Oct 3: Bankman-Fried jury selection, halfway through? One prospective juror works as FTX investor; other have heard podcast - Joe Rogan - about SBF. Judge says jury picked today or tomorrow AM. Collegiality at Trump circus, garbled Mashinsky case plea

Help support WALKING WITH DANTE by covering the hosting, editing, and licensing fees. You can donate through PayPal here.The pilgrim Dante and Virgil pass on from the crowd. And now Virgil really becomes the loser.Dante inquires about a passage in THE AENEID. And Virgil answers like a prof who is caught with a question he can't answer.Join me, Mark Scarbrough, as we explore the second time in COMEDY that Virgil is forced to correct his masterpiece in front of Dante.Here are the segments for this episode of WALKING WITH DANTE:[01:19] My English translation of this passage: PURGATORIO, Canto VI, lines 25 - 48. If you'd like to read along or print it off to make notes, please go to my website: markscarbrough.com.[03:36] Dante quizzes Virgil about the theology of the master's tragedy. What text is Dante the pilgrim referencing? THE AENEID, Book VI, around lines 373 - 376.[05:44] Virgil replies with garbled logic, if not utter sophistry.[11:21] The three most common medieval responses to classical texts like Virgil's.[15:55] My personal theory: the poet Dante may still be in a bit of an infernal state of mind, seeing souls as "placed" rather than "in transit."

ai.cooking episode 60 shownotes (00:00:00) Intro (00:04:43) 1. Researchers Decompose - Meta's MusicGen (00:09:21) 2. As Smart As Dogs - Yan LeCun says LLM's being not truly intelligent (00:11:54) 3. How the World Works - I-JEPA -LeCun's vision for more human-like ai. (00:15:54) 4. A Garbled, Illegible Mess - Futurism.com reports ai generated fakes (00:19:52) 5. Customised Content - MIT Tech Review on Asia's Generative ai (00:22:45) 6. Shaping the Guardrails - Wired Good News China & US are talking about ai dangers (00:27:58) 7. A Poor Precedent - MIT EESC find GPT-4 is cramming for tests (00:31:31) 8. A Pretty Serious Issue - TechCrunch on being worried about ai infiltrating crowdsourced work (00:33:56) 9. A New Partnership - FOX Business on Oracle partners with Cohere for new generative ai services for business (00:35:53) 10. Query Complexity - Microsoft ai introduce Orca (00:38:09) 11. Confidential Materials - Reuters on Google waring own staff about ChatBot's (00:39:36) 12. Feeding Frenzy - Meta wants companies to make money off its Open-Source ai (00:43:31) 12+1. The Immortal Celebrity - Yahoo! on Meta's Voicebox ai being a DALL-E for text to speech (00:45:30) 14. A New Luxury - TechCrunch on Mercedes adding ChatGPT to its infotainment system (00:48:28) 15. Senescent Cells - University of Edinburgh on ai combatting ageing (00:52:46) PE Corner - Language learning prompts from @itsPaulAi on twitter (00:56:50) Knowledge Corner - ai prompt engineering (01:03:40) Outro

Fetterman Incoherent RAMBLING Goes Viral, Media PRAISES Garbled Nonsense, Democrats Are INSANE Become a Member For Uncensored Videos - https://timcast.com/join-us/ Hang Out With Tim Pool & Crew LIVE At - http://Youtube.com/TimcastIRL https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4u89HsBXmBw Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Biden/State of the Union "in great shape! Getting better!" Lame RINO Marxist RNC, weak! Fun(?) black calls at the end! * 0:00:00 Wed, Feb 8, 2023 AD* 0:03:13 "Over the Rainbow" - Shooby Taylor* 0:08:15 Hey, guys! BOND tee, H/T Hassan* 0:12:09 Don Lemon all high and mighty* 0:31:58 Trump's uplifting SOTU: Biden most corrupt?* 0:36:34 Biden SOTU: GOP wanna sunset Medicare! (Boo!)* 0:40:44 Biden: Need oil 10 more years! (Laughs)* 0:43:52 Biden: Make no mistake! (Garbled words)* 0:45:26 State of the Union in great shape like Biden!* 0:50:46 Mitt Romney vs. George Santos* 0:54:44 "We Are the Reason" - David Meece* 0:58:30 Reading chat about the music (Carpenters?)* 1:01:34 Supers: Responsibility, Biden IRS, Delilah* 1:07:12 RNC disavows Ye/Fuentes, reelects Ronna McDaniel* 1:13:55 Reddit "PoliticalHumor": Make America HATE Again* 1:23:10 RON, TN: Sonnie Johnson? Marxist GOP! College athletes?* 1:36:41 Super: Your Girlfriend!* 1:37:03 KEITH, IL: R's don't fight! Southern rural life was fine! * 1:44:57 KEITH: Slave ships revisited! (Maze mocked this previously)* 1:48:10 Friday: Stand in opposition to racism; Gabby Petito face* 1:49:10 JOHN, KY: C**ns are real! Racism is real and taught!* 1:57:33 Thanks, all! Call me tomorrow! * 1:57:58 "Gloria" - David Meece BLOG https://www.thehakereport.com/blog/2023/2/8/state-of-the-union-against-americans-wed-2-8-23 ALSO ON SUBSTACK / PODCASTThe Hake Report LIVE M-F 9-11 AM PT (12-2 ET) Call-in 1-888-775-3773 thehakereport.com VIDEO  YouTube  |  Rumble*  |  BitChute  |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |  Odysee*  |  DLive   PODCAST  Apple  |  Spotify  |  Castbox  |  Podcast Addict  |  Pocket Casts  ||  Substack  *SUPERS  Streamlabs  ||  SUPPORT  Substack  |  SubscribeStar  |  Locals  ||  Teespring  SEE ALSO  Hake News on The JLP Show  |  Appearances elsewhere (other shows, etc.) Get full access to The Hake Report at thehakereport.substack.com/subscribe

This week we will be talking about the early actions that occurred along the Matinikau river.  Now, as opposed to the land battles we have discussed before, Tenaru and Edson's Ridge which each only happened one time, the Matinikau actions occurred several times from September through November 1942.  Today, we will be focusing on the September and October actions.   Following the battle at Edson's Ridge, what remained of the Japanese force under General Kawaguchi, pulled back through the jungle and attempted to regroup, as well as refit, on the western side of the Matinikau river.  Marine general Archer Vandegrift was aware that the Japanese had done this very thing and planned to eliminate whatever was left of the force that had slammed against the ridge on two consecutive nights in September. Vandegrift was determined to mop up what was left of the Japanese so as to deny them the opportunity to consolidate their forces and resume their offensive.  Vandegrift chose his freshest troops for this action, the recently arrived 1st Battalion of the 7th Marines under a Lieutenant Colonel whose name was and still is synonymous with the Corps.  Lewis B Chesty Puller. Talking Points: The 7th Marines Arrive:On September 18, the Marines on Guadalcanal finally received some much needed reinforcements, to the tune of 4157 men of the 7th Marine RegimentFresh from garrison duty in Samoa, these Marines were both fresh and eager to go.Their arrival allowed Vandegrift to finally establish a full defensive perimeter around the Lunga Point areaLearning from the lessons earlier in the campaign, the 7th Marines were disgorged on the beach early in the morning, and by 1800 that same day the cargo ships, now properly loaded, spit out a further 137 trucks4323 barrels of fuel60% of the tentage and equipment needed by the 7thThe remainder would be unloaded in short order Lewis B “Chesty” Puller 44 years old at this timeJoined the Marines in 1918By 42 he had served 24 years in the CorpsA veteran of Haiti, Nicaragua, better known as the banana wars, Puller had loads of combat experience before he ever got to the CanalDescribed as the prototypical Marine officer, Puller had a chin like “bulldozer blade”, a barrel chest and seemingly always had a pipe stuck in his teeth.  Highly decorated for service in Haiti and Nicaragua and grounded in the fundamentals of infantry combat and what it took to both be an infantryman, and how to survive as an infantryman, his men absolutely adored him. Mission:Puller was to advance astride Mount Austen, cross the river and examine the area between Mount Austen and KokumbonaClearly just an exploratory mission 900 men under Puller moved out on September 23On the afternoon of the next day, the lead elements of Puller's force ran into a Japanese bivouac area on the NW slope of Mount AustenIn the ensuing fight, the Marines drove the Japanese off just before dark, but took significant casualties7 KIA 25 WIA The next day 2/5 was sent to reinforce Puller and allow his wounded to be brought to the rear At the same time, the Japanese had established a defensive area around the position known as “One Log Bridge” along the riverThe Japanese 12th Company, at the bridge, and Puller's units hit each repeatedly with neither side gaining, or losing, any ground Because of the defense at one log bridge, Puller continued downstream, headed towards the mouth of the river and attempted a crossing.He was met with fierce Japanese defensive fire and mortars that handily checked the Marine advance and forced them to hold on the friendly side of the river Vandegrift sent the 1st Raiders to join Puller and at this point, Edson took commandEdson and Puller devised a plan to have C Company of Puller's Battalion move up the east side of the river, cross one log bridge and attack Matinikau village from the south2/5 would hold the line near the mouth of the river to deny any attempt by the Japanese to flank Puller's group Attack:At first light on the 27th, the Raiders moved up to cross the one log bridgeAs they did so, they came under intense fire from well entrenched Japanese on the east bank of the riverThis was completely unexpected as far as the Marines were concernedWell placed Japanese mortar fire began to take effect on the RaidersKenneth Bailey, leading the attack is killed here After Bailey is killed, LCOL Griffith, who had been wounded in the fight, tried to slip 2 companies around the entrenched Japanese in order to flank them, but they too were pinned down by heavy Japanese fire Back at the mouth of the river, the Japanese 9th Company continuously hurled back 2/5's attacks across the river  Pt Cruz: In an attempt to cut the Japanese off, Companies A, B and D of 1/7 landed near Point Cruz and began to push inland.It must be noted that the this action would not have occurred had it been known by Vandegrift that Puller's and the Raider's attack had not succeeded as yet.Garbled radio transmissions from Griffith did not make it clear that the action was successful Almost immediately, the Marines came under heavy fire as COL Oka deployed several units to attack the recently landed MarinesMortar rounds killed Major Rogers, and wounded another Company commander, leaving Captain Charles Kelly to assume command of the operationWithin a short amount of time, the Japanese had moved behind the marines (coast side) and cut them off from any route of escapeRealizing their predicament, Kelly ordered to radio for help…but no radios had been brought to the area by the Marines.Using t-shirts, the Marines spelled out HELP on the ground, a signal that was seen by an SBD pilot from VMSB231 named Dale Leslie.Leslie relayed the Marines' desperate message which was picked up by PullerMeanwhile, Edson's attack was still underway when he too received the message of distress from Kelly.Edson halted his attack despite Puller's heated argument that halting the attack would allow the Japanese to send more men to attack and eventually annihilate Kelly. Fearing for his men, Puller hauled ass back to Kukum where he boarded the destroyer USS Monssen Gathering landing craft, Puller, Monssen, and a flock of 10 landing craft headed towards Point Cruz in the area the Marines had initially landedOnce arriving, the landing craft were greeted by furious fire from the Japanese who had by this time, pushed the Marines back, cut them off and were preparing to mount an assault to destroy themPuller was able to establish comms with Kelly ashore by use of semaphore and directed him to make his way to the coast NOWAs the Marines attempted to fight their way out, the destroyer Monssen provided direct artillery support with every available weapon aboard ship for 30 minutes and helped blast a path for the withdrawing MarinesBy 1630, those who could, had made it to the beach as the landing craft were heading to rescue themRealizing the Marines were trying to escape, the Japanese poured fire into them and tried to reestablish the encirclement Douglas MunroMunro ordered his Higgins landing craft towards the shore as he and the other boats in his formation came under intense fire.Manning a Lewis machine gun, Munro returned fire at the Japanese and ordered for his boat to move closer to the beach so as to shield the Marines that were attempting to embark on the other landing craft.As his boat moved into position, Munro noticed a grounded landing craft, again moving his boat to shield the Marines attempting to free the craft, Munro purposely exposed himself and his boat to withering enemy fire.  Holding station for several minutes, Munro poured fire back at the Japanese and eventually directed his boat to withdraw after the previously grounded landing craft had been freed and loaded with Marines.  As Munro's craft withdrew he was struck by a Japanese bullet at the base of his skull.Rushing back to Lunga point, his best friend Raymond Evans cradled Munro in his arms. Munro regained consciousness, looked at Evans and asked, “Did they get off?” Evans replied in the affirmative, and Munro died.Munro was the first, and so far, the only Coast Guardsman to receive the MOHThe ill-fated Marine action resulted in 70 KIA and a further 100 WIA October 6-9 actionsOn October 3 LTGEN Maruyama was landed along with fresh troops.  His mission was to set up artillery positions on the opposite side of the Matinkiau with which to shell Marine positions in preparation for the late October offensive that was on the horizonOver the next few days, the Japanese proceeded to do just that as well as set up further defensive postions along the banks of the river. Vandegrift, again aware that the Japanese were preparing positions as well as preparing for an offensive Daily Marine patrols ran into Japanese and confirmed both the arrival of fresh troops and the preparations for offensive As a result of this knowledge, Vandegrift once again planned an offensive against the Matinikau positions to eliminate the threat before it came to himHis plan was to strike and seize the area near Kokumbona to deny Japanese access to the trails that lead to the upper portion of the Lunga area.The 5th Marines, minus 1/5 would advance along the coast and force a crossing of the river.The Whaling Group, as well as the 7th Marines, would cross the river further south at one log bridge.Once across the Whaling Group and the 7th would attack down the ridges and hopefully trap a large number of Japanese in the process. The fighting:October 7 the attack kicked off, with 3/5 reaching the river and running into fierce resistance3/5 used 75mm artillery pieces mounted in half-tracks to pour direct fire into the Japanese positions.  Slowly, the Japanese gave ground.By nightfall, the Marines held the mouth of the river and the Whaling Group and the 7th had crossed the river easily at one log bridge The following afternoon, H Company 5th Marines under Captain Rigaud mistakenly entered a valley between two Japanese units The enemy holding the high ground poured fire into H Company.  Marines started to panic, and began to run.  Rigaud stood up in the middle of the fight, challenged his men, shamed them, cajoled them and made them retake their positions and eventually withdrew in order.Fighting died down on the 7th and the assault waited until the following day to complete the encirclementOn the 8th, Vandegrift received intel that the Japanese were preparing an all out offensive to recapture the island.  As a result, he cancelled the operation for the next day and ordered his units to return to the American perimeter to prepare a defense following this day's actions. The Whaling Group and 2/7 reached the beach as Puller's group topped a ridgeline to find an entire Japanese battalion in the ravine below him.Puller called in artillery and mortars and watched as the artillery did its work, calling them machines for extermination.The Japanese tried to escape by climbing up the ravine side and were taken under direct machine gun and rifle fire from Puller's men.Only after Puller's men had expended all of their mortar ammunition did he order cease fire, moving out to rejoin Whaling and Hanneken ahead of him.This concluded the second battle around the Matinikau which resulted in:65 KIA and 125 WIAThe Japanese lost around 700 men in the three day engagement Effects on the campaign:Because of the loss of the Matinikau, the Japanese were forced to eventually march their men through the jungle (again) before the major assault around Henderson Field in late October .  This march, like Kawaguchi's the month before, exhausted the attackers to the point where their efficiency in the attack that came was severely diminished. 

Merriam-Webster has added 370 words to the dictionary, but it's not enough to keep up with the changing pace of language on the internet, especially as we increasingly communicate with imagery and in-jokes that transcend single word definitions. Plus, why more and more fast food chains are ditching dining areas, and what that means for our options for communal gathering.Sponsors:Indeed, Get a free $75 credit PLUS earn up to $500 extra in sponsored job credits with Indeed's Virtual Interviews at Indeed.com/goodnewsI Am Bio, Subscribe at bio.org/podcastLinks:We Added 370 New Words to the Dictionary for September 2022 (Merriam-Webster)Cringe: Merriam-Webster Added a Bunch of Internet Slang to the Dictionary (Gizmodo)The real meaning behind the crab emoji is darker than you think (Mashable) Tumblr had a real big day yesterday (Garbage Day)Fast-food chains like Taco Bell, Dunkin', and Panera are ditching dining areas for drive-thrus and mobile ordering. (Slate)Taco Bell Defy tests the future of fast food with 'tacos from the sky' (Washington Post)Tue. 06/14 - The Once and Future Mall (Cool Stuff Ride Home) Jackson Bird on TwitterSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

More than ever, communications are broad, democratic and open to all. Digital media has opened the door to everyone and anyone having access to tools that can launch new ideas to the world. Half of that communications process, however, is made up by listeners. Are folks listening to all of these new ideas? And are all of the modalities equal?

Filth described her very well.  While it was an apt depiction, it failed to embrace the fullest description of what she was.  Some lives seem to be nothing more than a brutal manifestation of the accumulated slag and scum that is leftover in the wake of some departed tragedy.  These people become the thing that life has done to them, being so irreparably identified with their own tragedies that they themselves are a living manifestation of all those assorted tragedies.  Sometimes we become what life has done to us.  Hers was a life that was already an abysmal collection of untold catastrophes that resulted in filth nearly indescribable.  She was only fourteen. Susan was of little note as she stepped off the bus that first day of summer camp.  She was one of over one hundred campers swirling in an arriving mass of anticipation.  Gathering tattered bags and a tattered spirit, her eyes were set hollow with the effects of a life lived in hatred.  Filth and a pervading stench drew her apart from the rest almost instantly.  Her soul seemed to reek with a putrid odor that handily eclipsed the smell emanating from her skin and clothing.  There was about her an inner ugliness that permeated everything else about her, that had consumed her and had digested whatever shred of good there might have been.  It all seemed to have effectively left the fragrance of any human goodness now consumed in the sludge of whatever it was that seemed to define her. Her defense mechanism was so refined that she immediately repelled all who drew near, thrusting others so far away that she guaranteed her own isolation.  Her own woundedness was so utterly complete that the poison of the pain she felt spewed in venomous rages at anyone who drew near.  Her self-hatred was effectively projected outward onto anyone who dared draw near physically or emotionally.  She seemed as something less than human, something abominable; something terribly horrifying within which any shred of humanity was consumed and utterly lost. The following week of camp was to be marred by ugly confrontations.  She devolved into assorted rages that were wild, brutish, entirely unprovoked and profuse.  She refused to shower.  Ferocious outbursts were filled with anger distilled into lethal poison that devastated other hearts, young and old.  Physical assaults and violent rages had an insane wildness and a touch of insanity about them.  There emerged at times something animalistic about her, something very primal that raged unrestrained by either reason or rationale.  At times the line between that of a visceral animal and a human being was blurred and terribly ill-defined.  In the end, Susan was isolated in a lone cabin.  Her parents refused to come and get her.  Her pastor was unwilling and unable to deal with her rages as her life did not fit neatly into some clean theological rubric that he could manage.  The camp staff gathering to pray for her, but found their prayers as ineffective.  Some sort of spiritual possession was questioned, and rightly so.  She was a monster; a raging pathetic monster that we waited to relieve ourselves of at the close of camp.  Such was our judgment of her.   Judging From Fear Judging is, I think, a manifestation of our own fears.  We judge so that we might have some sense of control and some feeling of superiority.  If we judge that which is before us, we assume we will not become whatever it is that we are rendering judgment upon.  We set ourselves apart as distinct from that thing or that person with that distinction somehow convincing us that we are different.  Judging places us above that which we judge, meaning that we will not succumb to it from our supposedly elevated position. We judge because we fear, and because we fear we are not prone to look deeply into the person that we're judging.  For if we look deeply, we might see ourselves.  We might be forced to surrender to the reality that that which we are rendering judgment upon is as much a part of that person as it is a part of us.  Superficial judgment allows us to bypass our own humanity and live in the lie of superiority.  The person whom we judge is then sacrificed to our thin self-serving judgments and whatever is it that God wanted to do in our lives through that person is tragically lost.        Judgment Revealed It was to be that final night of camp.  The next morning a mass of buses and cars would invade the gravel parking lot, snatching up sun burnt campers filled with the wild tales of a week's adventures.  But that would be tomorrow.  For now, night had fallen, drawing up a warm blanket of thick summer air across the camp and out beyond the wooded expanse, tucking the world in at each horizon.  Crickets sang in a chorus of the night from the deep woods, lulling the day to slumber with their mesmerizing notes.  Frogs bellowed thick from a stream that meandered through a wooded ravine down a slight ridge.  Their chorus hauntingly rolled up the rise and across the slight meadow.  Lightening bugs cast dancing pinpoint pigments of yellow across the shadowy landscape and deep into the tall stands of sleepy timber.  The moon had only shaken a sliver of itself awake, mingling with the starry minions.  It was the perfect night; soft and subtle.  God's creation was melding into perfection. With the campers bedded down for that final night, I strolled down to the chapel now bathed in the soft shadows of night.  A few moments with God at the end of a long week seemed so right.  Drawn, I descended the winding dirt and gravel path with the soft crunch of each step muffled by night's thick softness.  Slight shadows cut from the thin pastel light of a sleepy moon seemed to whisper something about reverence and what it is to be alone with God. Another person had thought the same.  The outdoor chapel was framed by a wall of river rock that extended muscular granite arms around an expansive gravel floor.  Across the gravel expanse there stood a rock and timber altar with a muscular, rough-hewn cross as a shadowy sentry.  Thick timbers supported a vaulted wooden roof spread with broad knotty pine boards.  The woods beyond were alive with the night.  And Susan was there. A shadowy figure knelt at the altar.  Her aloneness was poignant, an isolated life kneeling before an altar in a desperate hope of somehow breaking that isolation.  The crying was soft and indistinct, being defy muted by her fear of vulnerability.  The moment was a manifestation of a broken heart and deeply wounded spirit which had somehow collided with God enough to strike a spark of hope.  She was kneeling there, her fingers embedded in the rock altar, hoping that this hope would not fail her as had everything else. We had all seen her as ugly, despicable, the slimy scum of humanity that teetered on the savagery of a wild animal.  We wanted nothing more than to see the sun break on the final day of camp and watch her leave both the camp and our lives.  We could not wait to be rid of her, to relegate this vermin back to the hole from which she had crawled.  To say we hated Susan was likely excessive.  To say we despised her was likely true.  And yet, here she was, broken.  The wounded humanity she so vehemently lashed out from was pouring out across that rock and timber altar.  Her core was exposed and for the first time I saw a slight glimpse of her humanity.  I had errantly judged it not to be there for fear that I would recognize it in myself.  Now I saw her brokenness and in it, I recognized my own. I feared her, not knowing in that moment what to do; not wanting to do anything out of the fear of behaviors I'd observed and the hatred I'd seen spew from her.  But I found myself walking toward her anyway.  Having made no conscious decision to do anything, I stepped, my footsteps dictated by something wholly other than me.  Suddenly I was beside her in the thick dark, in the thick of night; in the thick of her night.  Without a word spoken, she reached up and took my hand and drew me down to her side with a force that buckled my knees.  Putting a trembling arm around me as if the whole of her spirit was leaning its weight on me, I felt for that brief instance the intolerable hell of her life.  And in that moment I understood why she was what she was. Her words were to silence the night that surrounded us.  Nature drew down into the moment, stood on tiptoe so it seemed as God reached out from the expanse of that starry night and changed a life. Her next words set me back, instantly slicing through all the things that had caused me to judge her so harshly and revealing who this really was.  She said, “would you pray with me?”  Without a word from me her heart ruptured open in prayer.  I never uttered a word.  I didn't have to as such an action would have been only an intrusion in that transforming moment.  Massive floodgates surged opened and a enormous reservoir of pain that had accumulated over the incalculable expanse of years and events deluged the darkened chapel.  I knelt . . . stunned.  I had arrogantly diminished her in my judgments, and I experienced my own cleansing in hers.  It was a marvelous and privileged moment. In the end, we spent over an hour kneeling in the gravel, cloaked in a deep summer's night. Her prayers, a lifetime tidal wave of events and circumstances kept coming; of abuse and neglect and drugs.  The assorted maladies such as hunger, too few clothes, empty birthdays, numerous evictions and the rejection of society that abject poverty brings to a young life.  There was a devastating abortion and a fathomless litany of other terrifying choices that shredded her soul.  A father's alcoholism, a brother's suicide, and a mother's incessant marital unfaithfulness layered in it all.  Things that I could have never have comprehended.  Hers was a devastated life beyond description; a human holocaust. And it all poured into the night, across the rock and timber altar, down the gravel floor, out into the deep woods and into the expanses of heaven itself.  When it was done, she was free and her core was cleansed.  Likewise, I was free.  In that chapel God gave me far more than I had ever expected as I had trod the dirt and gravel path earlier that night.  I saw bits of me in her, and they were likewise swept away in her own release. The next sunrise may have actually been her very first sunrise, the day dawning over a new life.  With the sun barely warming the eastern horizon, she went to the shower.  Her clothes were deposited in the washer.  She combed her hair into long translucent waves, brushed her teeth bright and put on fresh clean clothes.  A touch of borrowed make-up and a slight sprits of perfume rounded out the transformation.  Arranging herself in the mirror, she gently primped herself to perfection. Susan walked into the cafeteria for that final breakfast wholly new.  Silence fell over one hundred campers.  Its power was deafening.  All of our superficial judgments had defined her for all of us.  So complete were they that we all sat there trying to somehow make them fit this new person for, sadly, we knew no other way to define her.  The old judgments of a monster melted away in the light of their gross insufficiency and a fresh understanding of this remarkable young woman seized the room.  A litany of miracles walked in with her. At that final breakfast she went from table to table to table.  Asking for forgiveness from those she'd hurt.  Weeping with those lives she'd scarred.  Holding the faces of so many in her hands, looking intently into their eyes and telling them how sorry she was.  Hugging and holding and crying with an endless array of campers and counselors.  No one ate breakfast that morning because sometimes life becomes bigger than food and larger than any agenda.  Sometimes life intersects us so powerfully that the only thing we can give attention to is that which intersects us.  And Susan intersected us all. A revival broke in that cafeteria.  Clusters of young lives gave themselves to God over eggs, bacon and a radically changed life.  Busses and arriving cars were asked to wait until the surge of one life changed had fully raced and run through the hundreds of other hurting lives that morning.  The vast gulf between what we were and what we could be was searingly highlighted in Susan.  And in the end, God ravaged the work of Satan and the deep pain of innumerable adolescents through the life of a single young lady who chose to see her core and live differently because of it.  It was the most remarkable thing I have ever seen.  A wretched and putrid life detested by those around her changing the very lives that had hated her, thereby leaving a legacy of life with those very lives.   An Errant Judgment The rocks had dropped; one by one.  Each thud stirred a slight wisp of talcum-like dust that quickly settled.  With it, a slight wisp of hope and of life spun gentle eddies in her heart.  Garbled whispering rose from the gathered cluster of angered religious leaders.  Cutting glances rendered razor sharp with hatred were slung across the courtyard toward her.  Righteous indignation wrapped itself like a robe around pious bodies.  And then, a slow dispersing of those gathered in their robes and finery with the old leaving first.  The sound of feet on departing gravel built and then gradually lessened as the courtyard was emptied.  Soon silence drifted in, leaving the scene littered still with lifeless rocks that attest to hatred halted and judgment deferred.  All that was left was a prostitute and the Son of God.  What remained was a broken woman human groveling in the acidic guilt of promiscuity . . . and Jesus.  Wholeness and hollowness stood one on one. Half naked, the hours had been truncated with deception, discovery, detainment and deliberation.  Deep in an illicit sexual embrace, eyes were watching it all happen, peering past slightly parted curtains.  A door stood ajar.  Shooing away curious passer-byers, they collected visual evidence as to the unfolding offense under the guise of a righteous action while hiding the feeding of their own sensate passion by vicariously engaging in the heat of passion themselves.  The trap was sprung.  She was seized, a few loose garments were thrown around her naked body, heckles of debauchery were hurled at her and she was dragged away.  Her partner somehow vanished as his purpose was fulfilled. The religious leaders had now departed.  Jesus slowly stood.  His eyes, contemplative and soft, shifted from the marks scrawled in the dirt and were drawn across the empty courtyard.  It is painful that people condemn in others that which they cannot accept in themselves.  That somehow the act of condemning it in others supposedly frees them from that very same thing in themselves.  They had in some way proven themselves invincible to whatever they were confronting because they had identified it and confronted in it another.  In doing so, they somehow viewed themselves as insulated from that same thing. In the oddity of facing our own filth, judging is most often not a necessary action, but an action initiated out of the fear that those judging might themselves engage in such horrific actions.  Judging is too often a self-centered act designed to free the one judging from the belief that they will ever be consumed or controlled by that which they are judging.  The sense of love that one might possess for another human being had succumbed to the fear of what oneself might actually do and the narcissism of self-preservation that arises out of that fear.  It had all resulted in their judgment of this woman.  The rocks that littered the court yard yelled it loudly long after those who had dropped them had exited.   Jesus drew a slight breath, paused and then turned.  Before Him there now knelt a scathingly hollow human being.  Few turn to the profession of prostitution unless there is wounding emptiness.  There are few people in life who are so relentlessly hollow and hold such an unyielding self-hatred as those who ply her trade.  She had likely arrived at this moment in time hollow and empty; in desperate need of a touch, of some slight affirmation.  Receiving even a morsel of someone's heart and life might have been just enough to pull her up and out of the life that she lived.  Empathy instead of judgment; compassion instead of condemnation; love instead of legalism; someone who might look just a bit farther beyond the putrid exterior to see the wounded and bleeding person inside.  Men had used her, violating her for a few scant coins.  They saw her only as an object upon which to release their sexual tensions and live out their distorted fantasies.  They had been unwilling to see the person who died a little more after each illicit rendezvous.  They didn't care to see.  They had judged her too, but they judged her differently.  They had judged how she might be used by them and how the assets she possessed could be abducted in the vandalism of another human being. Then there was the disgust of other men that was thrown out in taunts and heckling as she made her way through tight streets.  Vendors refused to sell her goods.  Still other men wanted to stone her, to kill her; to rid the world of her without understanding why she was who she was.  All of them rendered their sordid judgments, each colored by their place of proximity and point of orientation to her life.  It was the very same thing I had done to Susan. Yet, here was a very different kind of man, the kind of man I would like to be.  His example prompts and prods me to grapple with my inadequacies rather than judging those in the lives of others.  His example convinces me that something human resides in even the most destitute of persons and that I must be diligent in seeking it out even when I can't see it.  I must do these things so that I might do the same as He did. Jesus had no need to judge.  He did not need to judge her to feel insulated against her atrocities.  He had no need to elevate Himself over her to feel safe from that which had destroyed her.  He was not concerned with advancing Himself or His interests at her expense.  He simply saw her humanity, He protected it, and then He allowed it to be released rather than condemned by the rendering some sort of self-serving judgment.  He stood in the breech and turned the condemnation away.  ”'Woman, where are they?  Has no one condemned you?'” (John 8:10), he said to her.  A life of condemnation was suddenly still and hauntingly absent; she was entirely free of the condemnation that had satiated her life and shackled her heart.  It was an odd and alien experience for her.  She was no longer suppressed by the judgments of others that were designed to elevate them.  She was not sacrificed out of the need of someone else to feel superior.  She was not used so that someone else was satisfied in the using.  She was freed to be different and to do different. Often God intervenes in ways that are outside of our realm of experience.  Often the very thing we need, we cannot conceptualize.  But it is these very things Jesus brings to us.  And in the perfect freedom of the moment that Jesus brings we find ourselves frozen.  She was frozen and unable to look up.  Her silence makes it clear.  This man had turned away the wrath that had followed her all her life.  The stones of judgment lay still in the dust.  Their voices had been muted and she had no idea what to do in a relationship where she would not be judged. Caught in the void, she attempted to somehow acclimate to what had happened.  She floundered in the freedom because freedom is the place where judgment is absent.  She was free to be who it is she truly was without the proclaimed judgments of others forcing her to remain who she was.  She stammered with the words forming in the midst of mental groping and said, “‘No one, sir'” (John 8:11, NIV).  It was just the two of them.  Face to face with this man; alone in the courtyard of her life.   Our Courtyards “‘Then neither do I condemn you.  Go now and leave your life of sin'” (John 8:11, NIV).  It is not about judgment or punishment.  There was no recitation of sins.  No lengthy exposé on the spiritual and psychological implications of sexual sin.  There was no need.  All that stuff was clear.  It was known.  Her choices were not the point of discourse for they were only the manifestation of pain, not the pain itself.  The lacerated core of this woman that had been heartlessly bludgeoned by so many others is what defined her.  Not the outward appearances as they are only a product of those wounds.  Not the manifestation of behaviors that are a part of all of that as well.  Not her acts of sexual promiscuity.  But the terrified and bloodied inner self that intentionally repulses all others at all costs so that wounded self will not incur further damage.  It's about refusing to judge as judgment only sentences others to that which we're judging them for.  Rather, we need to take a wholly different tact and attempt to see past the behavior to the person behind the behavior so that we can release them from the wounds that so bind them. Likewise, I have stood in many of my life's own courtyards.  There, in those places, inherent in me is the fundamental knowledge regarding my own nature and the manifest actions of that nature.  I often pretend that to not be the case, rummaging forward through the accumulated filth of my life pretending not to know the reason for its accumulation.  Playing dumb.  Feigning ignorance.  Judging others ruthlessly so that I think myself superior and insulated from being what they are, thereby escaping accountability and the possibility of their fate.  But I know.  I know full well. But, those that condemn me have departed.  The rightful punishment that I deserve is suspended.  Justice as I perceive it has been placated and postponed.  All that should be happening to me is not.  And in the absence of judgment is freedom.  God renders all judgment void because the cross consumes it all and renders it all as all gone.  The distractions, demands and declarations of the world as it rails against my sin is rendered silent.  Any judgments are unable to shackle me to my sin because all judgment has been suspended.  Everything that would give me pause to defend defenseless actions is absent for there is no judgment against which I must defend myself.  Every voice that would legitimately and rightly describe the repercussions of my behaviors have fallen silent.  Justice is suspended in silence.  And it is only God; my sin and God and the freedom to be different.   A Choice Freed from Judgment What was her choice after Jesus turned and left?   She stood there, aghast and in paralysis.  The sunrise would likewise dawn an entirely new day for her.  In the months and years ahead she would wash Jesus' feet with her tears.  She would attend to Him; push through the crowds that hailed Him and then condemned Him; follow Him through the pressing mobs and winding streets of Jerusalem to Golgotha.  She would endure the eternity that seemed those three and a half hours on the cross.  She would watch Him die, wait through that Saturday with angst indescribable, and be the first in all of time to see Him risen.  Her life would be radically new in ways incomprehensible to her, being wrenched out of the bed of prostitution and propelled to partnership with the Messiah.  All because Someone refused to bind her with His judgments and instead, sought her freedom.   The End Product The bus had rumbled up the long gravel road of the camp, dust and diesel leaving a path attesting to its journey.  The dust and diesel was now dissipating and thinning in a slight summer breeze.  Clusters of birds raised a cacophony of song in the dense foliage of the surrounding woods.  Golden sunshine rained from a generous sky of blue.  Hundreds of sunburnt campers with suitcases, duffle bags and rich memories gathered in clusters around a myriad of cars, busses and vans that inundated the parking lot.  In the departing mayhem there was a tug on my shoulder.  A transformed face greeted me.  This was not the girl that came off this same bus six days ago. Instantly I was in the grip of hug dripping with the love of a grateful heart.  Long and rich, the hug was one of life and living.  In the midst of the embrace, she whispered, “thanks so much.  I'll never be the same again.” Her bus rolled off down that driveway, leaving a trail of dust and diesel as it had when it had arrived.  On board was a miracle.  God had gotten to the core of her courtyard and suspended judgment.  There she seized the second chance.  And it changed her forever.   Pondering Point We judge based on externals.  It's easy that way.  There is no expenditure of energy attempting to ascertain that which we cannot see.  Seizing and evaluating the obvious is easy, convenient and simple.  It allows us to render rapid judgment and avoid encountering a life at the core of that life.  It's cheap living that is superficial and thin.  We do the same with ourselves.  We are distant from our own cores.  That however, is where Jesus meets us.  Here, at the core of our courtyards we are afforded two things.  Genuine repentance centered in the acknowledgment of our core, and then the chance to do something radically different; a wild departure into the fullness of life and the fullness of God.

Most of the Bible was written thousands of years ago. Has its text been lost in transmission and translation? In other words, is our current Bible trustworthy? On this journey, Dr. G takes a hard look at the very latest scholarly research on the subject and gives you reliable answers based on facts, not opinions. Free Online Bible Classes with Professor Daniel Wallace (including "Why We Trust Our Bible") "How Accurate Is the Bible?" by Dr. Kenneth Boa A Handy Chart Comparing Bible Translations Dr. G wants to hear from you! So join the conversation with him and your fellow travelers now on his FACEBOOK PAGE. Or email Dr. G directly by clicking HERE. ORDER DR. G's NEWEST BOOK! Believing is Seeing. * Tyndale * Books-A-Million * ChristianBook * Amazon * Barnes & Noble

Most of the Bible was written thousands of years ago. Has its text been lost in transmission and translation? In other words, is our current Bible trustworthy? On this journey, Dr. G takes a hard look at the very latest scholarly research on the subject and gives you reliable answers based on facts, not opinions. Free Online Bible Classes with Professor Daniel Wallace (including "Why We Trust Our Bible") "How Accurate Is the Bible?" by Dr. Kenneth Boa A Handy Chart Comparing Bible Translations Dr. G wants to hear from you! So join the conversation with him and your fellow travelers now on his FACEBOOK PAGE. Or email Dr. G directly by clicking HERE. ORDER DR. G's NEWEST BOOK! Believing is Seeing. * Tyndale * Books-A-Million * ChristianBook * Amazon * Barnes & Noble

The Fed Chair's Garbled Inflation Message

After a significant delay and some audio issues due to Berg's computer the new show is finally here! The crew present, The Garbled One! We're not going to lie, there's 40 minutes of pops and drops but we feel the conversation is good enough to warrant presenting it. But if it becomes too much than skip to the 40 minute mark and the second portion is much better. As always, Listen and Enjoy. Thanks for stopping by. 

Episode Transcript:Hey, uh, it's Wyatt. I, uh, I guess I'm back. I got my laptop working...I think.I tried seeing if there was wifi or something but no luck.At least now I can play some music; though I don't know what I have on here, all of my music is on my computer at home. I, uh, don't really know how long it's been. I know I slept but I don't really know how long or what day it is. My phone is weird as fuck and, like, every time I look at it the time is different, I think. Or I'm just coming out real hard…But yeah, I went to sleep after the last time I got this working and I woke up and then turned it on again. I hope I wasn't out too long…what if I missed someone looking for me.*Dead air*So, uh, yeah, I, uh, I guess I'll just stay on here for now and just talk to whoever is out there hearing this until I can figure something else out.I wonder if I could do this for a living? Like...I'd never really thought about it, being on mic. And like, I know I'm not great at it...but I wonder.Anyway let's get some kind of music playing-*phone rings*I...um...should...should I answer that? It could be someone who's hearing this...maybe someone knows where this station is at and knows the number?*picks up phone**silence for 4 seconds**dial tone*O-oh…Okay, uh, I'm...I'm gonna just...just play some music or something.*music*Er… hi... again. I really hope someone can hear this.That I'm not… just talking into the void ya know?Anyway, even if I am, it's not doing any harm I guess.Self therapy? ....yeah ...something like that. I'm just gonna talk and hope something comes of it.Hope someone comes from it.If...if you can hear me...if you're the one who called, please call again. I'll pick up faster this time, I promise.*silence for 5 seconds*Please.*silence for 5 seconds*Maybe...maybe it was just broken. A-anyway, uh, I noticed something when I was looking at songs to play.My...my clock on my laptop is blank. Like...there's just nothing in that corner. No time, no date, and if I click on it nothing happens.That means this is a dream right? Like how you can't read books in dreams?Maybe I'll wake up soon.*Long silence*I'm gonna go-*Phone rings**Picks up*Hello?*Garbled static**Call ends**Hangs up*I...don't...think I'm gonna answer the phone anymore…Uh, um, I uh, huh.*music*I...don't like this. I...I know something isn't right...I'm trapped in a fucking radio station with no doors and unbreakable windows and no time and I've been here for days and I haven't been hungry or thirsty and the only contact I've had was a fucked up noise over a phone I just want to get out of here I just want to leave pleasejustletmeleave.*silence*Sorry. Sorry...I'm gonna just play some music. I'll..I'll try to be back later…*music*

I'm joined from Scotland by James Crane, who shares how Time out of Mind sparked his obsession with Bob, his thoughts on the differences between the fan bases in Europe and the United States, what made the 2019 shows great, and what inspires him about Bob's odyssey of exploration and creation. You can read James' blog entry here: https://asnaturalasrain.wordpress.com/2019/05/06/notes-from-prague/ For Bob Dylan news, follow host Matt Steichen on Twitter at Matt_Stike If you have questions or comments, or are interested in appearing as a guest on The Bobcats, email the show at steichenm@yahoo.com --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/the-bobcats/support

Garbled randomness --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app

This week we talk about the long anticipated Snyder Cut of The Justice League movie. Were joined by Eric "The Smoke" Moran, Jason Richardson of J1-Con Fame as well as The Professional Jawn. Watch as we try not to kill each other over our opinions of this movie and hey at least its under 4 hours. Let us know if you can handle the Garbled cut of this recording...

Like the drink pop song? check it out here: https://www.reverbnation.com/Sayreofficial/song/8642528-your-love-the-outfield-cover As most of you may or may not know, Valentine’s Day occurs every February 14. Across the United States and in other places around the world, candy, flowers and horrible gifts are exchanged between loved ones and potential flames, all in the name of St. Valentine. But, have you ever asked yourself “who is this fantastical saint and where did these sappy traditions come from?” Did some guy in a cave, thousands of years ago, screw up with his woman after bopping her on the head with a stick? Did he just say “ugh...sorry… here rock”? The Midnight Train Podcast is sponsored by VOUDOUX VODKA.www.voudoux.com Ace’s Depothttp://www.aces-depot.com BECOME A PRODUCER!http://www.patreon.com/themidnighttrainpodcast Find The Midnight Train Podcast:www.themidnighttrainpodcast.comwww.facebook.com/themidnighttrainpodcastwww.twitter.com/themidnighttrainpcwww.instagram.com/themidnighttrainpodcastwww.discord.com/themidnighttrainpodcastwww.tiktok.com/themidnighttrainp And wherever you listen to your favorite podcasts. Subscribe to our official YouTube channel:OUR YOUTUBEWell, the history of Valentine’s Day—and the story of its patron saint—is actually shrouded in mystery. We do know that February has long been celebrated as a month of romance, and that St. Valentine’s Day, as we know it today, contains traces of both Christian and ancient Roman tradition. But who was this Saint Valentine, and how did he become associated with this ancient ritual? The Catholic Church recognizes at least three different saints named Valentine or Valentinus, all of whom died or were out to death, rather than renouncing their religion. One legend tells us that Valentine was a priest who served during the third century in Rome. When Emperor Claudius II decided that single men made better soldiers than those with wives and families, he outlawed marriage for young men. Valentine, realizing the injustice of the decree, and ever the romantic, defied Claudius and continued to perform marriages for young lovers in secret. When Valentine’s actions were inevitably discovered, Claudius ordered that he be put to death. Still others insist that it was Saint Valentine of Terni, a bishop, who was the true namesake of the holiday. He, too, was beheaded by Claudius II outside Rome. So… you know… Claudius was a swell guy. Other stories suggest that Valentine may have been killed for attempting to help Christians escape harsh Roman prisons, where they were often beaten and tortured. According to one legend, an imprisoned Valentine actually sent the first “valentine” greeting himself after he fell in love with a young girl—possibly his jailor’s daughter—who visited him during his imprisonment. Before his death, it has been said that he wrote her a letter signed “From your Valentine,” an expression that is still used today. Although the truth behind the Valentine legends is murky, the stories all emphasize his appeal as a sympathetic, heroic and—most importantly—romantic figure. By the Middle Ages, perhaps thanks to this reputation, Valentine would become one of the most popular saints in England and France. The French! We are the most romantic! Screw the English!  While some believe that Valentine’s Day is celebrated in the middle of February to celebrate the anniversary of Valentine’s death or burial—which probably occurred around A.D. 270—others claim that the Christian church may have decided to place St. Valentine’s feast day in the middle of February in an effort to “Christianize” the pagan celebration of Lupercalia. Celebrated at the ides of February, or February 15, Lupercalia was actually a fertility festival dedicated to Faunus, the Roman god of agriculture, as well as to the Roman founders Romulus and Remus. Get all that? Sure you do! At the start of the festival, members of the Luperci, an order of Roman priests, would gather at a sacred cave where the infants Romulus and Remus, the founders of Rome, were believed to have been cared for by a she-wolf or lupa. The priests would sacrifice a goat, for fertility, and a dog, for purification. Poor dog! They would then strip the goat’s hide into strips, dip them into the sacrificial blood and take to the streets, gently slapping both women and crop fields with the goat hide. Yep. Too bad that tradition is gone. Sounds SUPER fun! Anyway, Far from being a bunch of scared pansies, Roman women welcomed the slap of the hides because it was believed to make them more fertile in the coming year. Yeah! Later in the day, according to legend, all the young women in the city would place their names in a big urn. The city’s bachelors would each choose a name and become paired for the year with his chosen woman. These matches often ended in marriage. So, it was like eharmony but with a little more sacrifice and far less computers. Lupercalia survived the initial rise of Christianity but was eventually outlawed, BUT OF COURSE IT WAS—as it was deemed “un-Christian”—at the end of the 5th century, when Pope Gelasius declared February 14 St. Valentine’s Day. It wasn’t until much later, however, that the day became definitively associated with love. During the Middle Ages, it was commonly believed in France and England that February 14 was the beginning of birds’ mating season, alright! which added to the idea that the middle of Valentine’s Day should be a day for romance. Because, ya know if birds do it… I mean… anyway. The English poet Geoffrey Chaucer was the first to record St. Valentine’s Day as a day of romantic celebration in his 1375 poem “Parliament of Foules,” writing, ““For this was sent on Seynt Valentyne’s day / Whan every foul cometh ther to choose his mate.” Smooth, Chaucer, real smooth. Valentine greetings were popular as far back as the Middle Ages, though written Valentine’s didn’t begin to appear until after 1400. The oldest known valentine still in existence today was a poem written in 1415 by Charles, Duke of Orleans, to his wife while he was imprisoned in the Tower of London following his capture at the Battle of Agincourt. (The greeting is now part of the manuscript collection of the British Library in London, England.) Several years later, it is believed that King Henry V hired a writer named John Lydgate to compose a valentine note to Catherine of Valois. Now, that chubby little bastard Cupid is often portrayed on Valentine’s Day cards as a naked cherub launching arrows of love at unsuspecting lovers. But the Roman God Cupid has his roots in Greek mythology as the Greek god of love, Eros. Accounts of his birth vary; some say he is the son of Nyx and Erebus; others, of Aphrodite and Ares; still others suggest he is the son of Iris and Zephyrus or even Aphrodite and Zeus (who would have been both his father and grandfather… because, you know… incest). According to the Greek Archaic poets, Eros was a handsome immortal who played with the emotions of Gods and men, using golden arrows to incite love and leaden ones to simply fuck with people. It wasn’t until the Hellenistic period that he began to be portrayed as the mischievous, chubby child he’d become on Valentine’s Day cards. Such a weird transition. From handsome immortal to a fat baby in a diaper. In addition to the United States, Valentine’s Day is celebrated in Canada, Mexico, the United Kingdom, France and Australia. In Great Britain, Valentine’s Day began to be popularly celebrated around the 17th century. By the middle of the 18th century, it was common for friends and lovers of all social classes to exchange small tokens of affection or handwritten notes, and by 1900 printed cards began to replace written letters due to improvements in printing technology. Ready-made cards were an easy way for people to express their emotions in a time when direct expression of one’s feelings was discouraged. Cheaper postage rates also contributed to an increase in the popularity of sending Valentine’s Day greetings. Americans probably began exchanging hand-made valentines in the early 1700s. In the 1840s, Esther A. Howland began selling the first mass-produced valentines in America. Howland, known as the “Mother of the Valentine,” made extravagant creations with real lace, ribbons and colorful pictures known as “scrap.” Today, according to the Greeting Card Association, an estimated 145 million Valentine’s Day cards are sent each year, making Valentine’s Day the second largest card-sending holiday of the year only next to Christmas Some cool notes on St. Valentine. .  In all, there are about a dozen St. Valentines, plus a pope.The saint we celebrate on Valentine’s Day is known officially as St. Valentine of Rome in order to differentiate him from the dozen or so other Valentines on the list. Because “Valentinus”—from the Latin word for worthy, strong or powerful—was a popular moniker between the second and eighth centuries A.D., several martyrs over the centuries have carried this name. The official Roman Catholic roster of saints shows about a dozen who were named Valentine or some variation thereof. The most recently beatified Valentine is St. Valentine Berrio-Ochoa, a Spaniard of the Dominican order who traveled to Vietnam, where he served as bishop until his beheading in 1861. Pope John Paul II canonized Berrio-Ochoa in 1988. There was even a Pope Valentine, though little is known about him except that he served a mere 40 days around A.D. 827.  Valentine is the patron saint of beekeepers and epilepsy, among many other things.Saints are certainly expected to keep busy in the afterlife. Their holy duties include interceding in earthly affairs and entertaining petitions from living souls. In this respect, St. Valentine has wide-ranging spiritual responsibilities. People call on him to watch over the lives of lovers, of course, but also for interventions regarding beekeeping and epilepsy, as well as the plague, fainting and traveling. As you might expect, he’s also the patron saint of engaged couples and happy marriages.  You can find Valentine’s skull in Rome.The flower-adorned skull of St. Valentine is on display in the Basilica of Santa Maria in Cosmedin, Rome. In the early 1800s, the excavation of a catacomb near Rome yielded skeletal remains and other relics now associated with St. Valentine. As is customary, these bits and pieces of the late saint’s body have subsequently been distributed to holy containers around the world. You’ll find other bits of St. Valentine’s skeleton on display in the Czech Republic, Ireland, Scotland, England and France. Here’s one for the ladies! You can actually celebrate Valentine’s Day several times a year.Because of the abundance of St. Valentines on the Roman Catholic roster, you can choose to celebrate the saint multiple times each year. Aside from February 14, you might decide to celebrate St. Valentine of Viterbo on November 3. Or maybe you want to get a jump on the traditional Valentine celebration by feting St. Valentine of Raetia on January 7. Women might choose to honor the only female St. Valentine (Valentina), a virgin martyred in Palestine on July 25, A.D. 308. The Eastern Orthodox Church officially celebrates St. Valentine twice, once as an elder of the church on July 6 and once as a martyr on July 30.Ok! So the lovey dovey shit is out of the way, let’s talk about some Murders. At 10:30 a.m. on Saint Valentine's Day, Thursday, February 14, 1929, seven men were murdered at the garage at 2122 North Clark Street, in the Lincoln Park neighborhood of Chicago's North Side. They were shot by four men using weapons that included two Thompson submachine guns. Two of the shooters were dressed as uniformed policemen, while the others wore suits, ties, overcoats, and hats. Witnesses saw the fake police leading the other men at gunpoint out of the garage after the shooting. The victims included five members of George "Bugs" Moran's North Side Gang. Moran's second in command and brother-in-law Albert Kachellek (alias James Clark) was killed along with Adam Heyer, the gang's bookkeeper and business manager, Albert Weinshank, who managed several cleaning and dyeing operations for Moran, and gang enforcers Frank Gusenberg and Peter Gusenberg. Two collaborators were also shot: Reinhardt H. Schwimmer, a former optician turned gambler and gang associate, and John May, an occasional mechanic for the Moran gang. Real Chicago police officers arrived at the scene to find that victim Frank Gusenberg was still alive. He was taken to the hospital, where doctors stabilized him for a short time and police tried to question him. He had sustained 14 bullet wounds; the police asked him who did it, and he replied, "No one shot me." He died three hours later.[4] Al Capone was widely assumed to have been responsible for ordering the murders in an attempt to eliminate Moran. Moran was the last survivor of the North Side gunmen; his succession had come about because his similarly aggressive predecessors Vincent Drucci and Hymie Weiss had been killed in the violence that followed the murder of original leader Dean O'Banion.[5][6] Several factors contributed to the timing of the plan to kill Moran. Earlier in the year, North Sider Frank Gusenberg and his brother Peter unsuccessfully attempted to murder Jack McGurn. The North Side Gang was complicit in the murders of Pasqualino "Patsy" Lolordo and Antonio "The Scourge" Lombardo. Both had been presidents of the Unione Siciliana, the local Mafia, and close associates of Capone. Moran and Capone had been vying for control of the lucrative Chicago bootlegging trade. Moran had also been muscling in on a Capone-run dog track in the Chicago suburbs, and he had taken over several saloons that were run by Capone, insisting that they were in his territory. The plan was to lure Moran to the SMC Cartage warehouse on North Clark Street on February 14, 1929 to kill him and perhaps two or three of his lieutenants. It is usually assumed that the North Siders were lured to the garage with the promise of a stolen, cut-rate shipment of whiskey, supplied by Detroit's Purple Gang which was associated with Capone. The Gusenberg brothers were supposed to drive two empty trucks to Detroit that day to pick up two loads of stolen Canadian whiskey. All of the victims were dressed in their best clothes, with the exception of John May, as was customary for the North Siders and other gangsters at the time. Most of the Moran gang arrived at the warehouse by approximately 10:30 a.m., but Moran was not there, having left his Parkway Hotel apartment late. He and fellow gang member Ted Newberry approached the rear of the warehouse from a side street when they saw a police car approaching the building. They immediately turned and retraced their steps, going to a nearby coffee shop. They encountered gang member Henry Gusenberg on the street and warned him, so he too turned back. North Side Gang member Willie Marks also spotted the police car on his way to the garage, and he ducked into a doorway and jotted down the license number before leaving the neighborhood. Capone's lookouts likely mistook one of Moran's men for Moran himself, probably Albert Weinshank, who was the same height and build. The physical similarity between the two men was enhanced by their dress that morning; both happened to be wearing the same color overcoats and hats. Witnesses outside the garage saw a Cadillac sedan pull up to a stop in front of the garage. Four men emerged and walked inside, two of them dressed in police uniform. The two fake police officers carried shotguns and entered the rear portion of the garage, where they found members of Moran's gang and collaborators Reinhart Schwimmer and John May, who was fixing one of the trucks. The fake policemen then ordered the men to line up against the wall. They then signaled to the pair in civilian clothes who had accompanied them. Two of the killers opened fire with Thompson sub-machine guns, one with a 20-round box magazine and the other a 50-round drum. They were thorough, spraying their victims left and right, even continuing to fire after all seven had hit the floor. Two shotgun blasts afterward all but obliterated the faces of John May and James Clark, according to the coroner's report. To give the appearance that everything was under control, the men in street clothes came out with their hands up, prodded by the two uniformed policemen. Inside the garage, the only survivors in the warehouse were May's dog "Highball" and Frank Gusenberg — despite 14 bullet wounds. He was still conscious, but he died three hours later, refusing to utter a word about the identities of the killers. The Valentine's Day Massacre set off a public outcry which posed a problem for all mob bosses.[7] Victims EditPeter Gusenberg, a front-line enforcer for the Moran organizationsFrank Gusenberg, the brother of Peter Gusenberg and also an enforcerAlbert Kachellek (alias "James Clark"), Moran's second in commandAdam Heyer, the bookkeeper and business manager of the Moran gangReinhardt Schwimmer, an optician who had abandoned his practice to gamble on horse racing and associate with the gangAlbert Weinshank, who managed several cleaning and dyeing operations for Moran; his resemblance to Moran is allegedly what set the massacre in motion before Moran arrived, including the clothes that he was wearingJohn May, an occasional car mechanic for the Moran gang[8] Within days, Capone received a summons to testify before a Chicago grand jury on charges of federal Prohibition violations, but he claimed to be too unwell to attend.[9] It was common knowledge that Moran was hijacking Capone's Detroit-based liquor shipments, and police focused their attention on Detroit's predominantly Jewish Purple Gang. Landladies Mrs. Doody and Mrs. Orvidson had taken in three men as roomers ten days before the massacre, and their rooming houses were directly across the street from the North Clark Street garage. They picked out mugshots of Purple Gang members George Lewis, Eddie Fletcher, Phil Keywell, and his younger brother Harry, but they later wavered in their identification. The police questioned and cleared Fletcher, Lewis, and Harry Keywell. Nevertheless, the Keywell brothers (and by extension the Purple Gang) remained associated with the crime in the years that followed. Many also believed that the police were involved, which may have been the intention of the killers. On February 22, police were called to the scene of a garage fire on Wood Street where they found a 1927 Cadillac sedan disassembled and partially burned, and they determined that the killers had used the car. They traced the engine number to a Michigan Avenue dealer who had sold the car to a James Morton of Los Angeles. The garage had been rented by a man calling himself Frank Rogers, who gave his address as 1859 West North Avenue. This was the address of the Circus Café operated by Claude Maddox, a former St. Louis gangster with ties to the Capone gang, the Purple Gang, and the St. Louis gang, Egan's Rats. Police could not turn up any information about persons named James Morton or Frank Rogers, but they had a definite lead on one of the killers. Just minutes before the killings, a truck driver named Elmer Lewis had turned a corner a block away from 2122 North Clark and sideswiped a police car. He told police that he stopped immediately but was waved away by the uniformed driver, who was missing a front tooth. Board of Education president H. Wallace Caldwell had witnessed the accident, and he gave the same description of the driver. Police were confident that they were describing Fred Burke, a former member of Egan's Rats. Burke and a close companion named James Ray were known to wear police uniforms whenever on a robbery spree. Burke was also a fugitive, under indictment for robbery and murder in Ohio. Police also suggested that Joseph Lolordo could have been one of the killers because of his brother Pasqualino's recent murder by the North Side Gang. Police then announced that they suspected Capone gunmen John Scalise and Albert Anselmi, as well as Jack McGurn and Frank Rio, a Capone bodyguard. Police eventually charged McGurn and Scalise with the massacre. Capone murdered John Scalise, Anselmi, and Joseph "Hop Toad" Giunta in May 1929 after he learned about their plan to kill him. The police dropped the murder charges against Jack McGurn because of a lack of evidence, and he was just charged with a violation of the Mann Act; he took his girlfriend Louise Rolfe across state lines to marry. The case stagnated until December 14, 1929, when the Berrien County, Michigan Sheriff's Department raided the St. Joseph, Michigan bungalow of "Frederick Dane", the registered owner of a vehicle driven by Fred "Killer" Burke. Burke had been drinking that night, then rear-ended another vehicle and drove off. Patrolman Charles Skelly pursued, finally forcing him off the road. Skelly hopped onto the running board of Burke's car, but he was shot three times and died of his wounds that night. The car was found wrecked and abandoned just outside St. Joseph and traced to Fred Dane. By this time, police photos confirmed that Dane was in fact Fred Burke, wanted by the Chicago police for his participation in the St. Valentine's Day Massacre. Police raided Burke's bungalow and found a large trunk containing a bullet-proof vest, almost $320,000 in bonds recently stolen from a Wisconsin bank, two Thompson submachine guns, pistols, two shotguns, and thousands of rounds of ammunition. St. Joseph authorities immediately notified the Chicago police, who requested both machine guns. They used the new science of forensic ballistics to identify both weapons as those used in the massacre. They also discovered that one of them had also been used to murder New York mobster Frankie Yale a year and a half earlier. Unfortunately, no further concrete evidence surfaced in the massacre case. Burke was captured over a year later on a Missouri farm. The case against him was strongest in connection to the murder of Officer Skelly, so he was tried in Michigan and subsequently sentenced to life imprisonment. He died in prison in 1940. On January 8, 1935, FBI agents surrounded a Chicago apartment building at 3920 North Pine Grove looking for the remaining members of the Barker Gang. A brief shootout erupted, resulting in the death of bank robber Russell Gibson. Taken into custody were Doc Barker, Byron Bolton, and two women. Bolton was a Navy machine-gunner and associate of Egan's Rats, and he had been the valet of Chicago hit man Fred Goetz. Bolton was privy to many of the Barker Gang's crimes and pinpointed the Florida hideout of Ma Barker and Freddie Barker, both of whom were killed in a shootout with the FBI a week later. Bolton claimed to have taken part in the St. Valentine's Day Massacre with Goetz, Fred Burke, and several others. The FBI had no jurisdiction in a state murder case, so they kept Bolton's revelations confidential until the Chicago American newspaper reported a second-hand version of his confession. The newspaper declared that the crime had been "solved", despite being stonewalled by J. Edgar Hoover and the FBI, who did not want any part of the massacre case. Garbled versions of Bolton's story went out in the national media. Bolton, it was reported,[where?] claimed that the murder of Bugs Moran had been plotted in October or November 1928 at a Couderay, Wisconsin resort owned by Fred Goetz. Present at this meeting were Goetz, Al Capone, Frank Nitti, Fred Burke, Gus Winkler, Louis Campagna, Daniel Serritella, William Pacelli, and Bolton. The men stayed two or three weeks, hunting and fishing when they were not planning the murder of their enemies. Bolton claimed that he and Jimmy Moran were charged with watching the S.M.C. Cartage garage and phoning the signal to the killers at the Circus Café when Bugs Moran arrived at the meeting. Police had found a letter addressed to Bolton in the lookout nest (and possibly a vial of prescription medicine). Bolton guessed that the actual killers had been Burke, Winkeler, Goetz, Bob Carey, Raymond "Crane Neck" Nugent,[10] and Claude Maddox (four shooters and two getaway drivers). Bolton gave an account of the massacre different from the one generally told by historians. He claimed that he saw only "plainclothes" men exit the Cadillac and go into the garage. This indicates that a second car was used by the killers. George Brichet claimed to have seen at least two uniformed men exiting a car in the alley and entering the garage through its rear doors. A Peerless Motor Company sedan had been found near a Maywood house owned by Claude Maddox in the days after the massacre, and in one of the pockets was an address book belonging to victim Albert Weinshank. Bolton said that he had mistaken one of Moran's men to be Moran, after which he telephoned the signal to the Circus Café. The killers had expected to kill Moran and two or three of his men, but they were unexpectedly confronted with seven men; they simply decided to kill them all and get out fast. Bolton claimed that Capone was furious with him for his mistake and the resulting police pressure and threatened to kill him, only to be dissuaded by Fred Goetz. His claims were corroborated by Gus Winkeler's widow Georgette in an official FBI statement and in her memoirs, which were published in a four-part series in a true detective magazine during the winter of 1935–36. She revealed that her husband and his friends had formed a special crew used by Capone for high-risk jobs. The mob boss was said to have trusted them implicitly and nicknamed them the "American Boys". Bolton's statements were also backed up by William Drury, a Chicago detective who had stayed on the massacre case long after everyone else had given up. Bank robber Alvin Karpis later claimed to have heard secondhand from Ray Nugent about the massacre and that the "American Boys" were paid a collective salary of $2,000 a week plus bonuses. Karpis also claimed that Capone had told him while they were in Alcatraz together that Goetz had been the actual planner of the massacre. Despite Byron Bolton's statements, no action was taken by the FBI. All the men whom he named were dead by 1935, with the exception of Burke and Maddox. Bank robber Harvey Bailey complained in his 1973 autobiography that he and Fred Burke had been drinking beer in Calumet City, Illinois at the time of the massacre, and the resulting heat forced them to abandon their bank robbing ventures. Historians are still divided on whether or not the "American Boys" committed the St. Valentine's Day Massacre. Many mobsters have been named as part of the Valentine's Day hit team. Two prime suspects are Cosa Nostra hit men John Scalise and Albert Anselmi. In the days after the massacre, Scalise was heard[by whom?] to brag, "I am the most powerful man in Chicago." Unione Siciliana president Joseph Guinta had recently elevated him to the position of the Unione's vice-president. Nevertheless, Scalise, Anselmi, and Guinta were found dead on a lonely road near Hammond, Indiana on May 8, 1929. Gangland lore has it that Capone had discovered that the pair were planning to betray him. Legend states[where?] that Capone produced a baseball bat at the climax of a dinner party thrown in their honor and beat the trio to death.[11] Police tested the two Thompson submachine guns (serial numbers 2347 and 7580) found in Fred Burke's Michigan bungalow and determined that both had been used in the massacre. One of them had also been used in the murder of Brooklyn mob boss Frankie Yale, which confirmed the New York Police Department's long-held theory that Burke had been responsible for Yale's death. Les Farmer, a deputy sheriff in Marion, Illinois, purchased gun number 2347 on November 12, 1924. Marion and the surrounding area were overrun by the warring bootleg factions of the Shelton Brothers Gang and Charlie Birger. Farmer had ties with Egan's Rats, based 100 miles away in St. Louis, and the weapon had wound up in Fred Burke's possession by 1927. It is possible that he used this same gun in Detroit's Milaflores Massacre on March 28, 1927. Chicago sporting goods owner Peter von Frantzius sold gun number 7580 to a Victor Thompson, also known as Frank V. Thompson, but it wound up with James "Bozo" Shupe, a small-time hood from Chicago's West Side who had ties to various members of Capone's outfit. Both guns are still in the possession of the Berrien County, Michigan Sheriff's Department. The garage at 2122 N. Clark Street was demolished in 1967, and the site is now a parking lot for a nursing home.[12] The bricks of the north wall against which the victims were shot were purchased by a Canadian businessman. For many years, they were displayed in various crime-related novelty displays. Many of them were later sold individually, and the remainder are now owned by the Mob Museum in Las Vegas.[13]

Most leaders are not properly trained for leadership.  This is especially the case in Japan.  Here you study under the mentorship of your busy, time poor, over worked boss.  Your access to formal leadership training is constrained by the firm's buy in to the dubious virtues of On The Job Training or OJT.  I am sure that at one point in time the OJT worked like a charm but the used by date has well and truly passed on that methodology.  Busines is a lot more complex today, technology rampant and the younger generation are increasingly feral.   The core required skills of the leader form three inter connecting circles.  These comprise leading, selling and presenting.  Now for many leaders they only see the one circle of leading as relevant and see the other two as less important.  The point here is that these circles each connect so that there is an overlap between all three.  If you are a leader you are in the business of sales.  You may have come through the CFO or Chief Scientists or General Management track to get to this position of authority, but you still need sales skills.  The problem is you haven't ever sold anything, so you have no experience, no skills and no training.  Worse yet you have no positive mentality about how important being able to sell is for you as the leader.   It is a little regarded, not sufficiently embraced truism, that we are all in sales.  We are all in the influence business, trying to have other people follow our choices, suggestions and ideas. Experts in sales know how to anaylse what their audience wants, how to ask key questions to lead to self-discovery and how to present solutions in the most appetising and appealing manner.  The leader decides the direction.  That is their job and job number two is to get everyone to accept that is the correct direction and to get others to head there.  We are selling conviction that we are correct.  We are selling trust that we can be relied upon to get the organisation to where it needs to be to succeed.   “Selling is not telling”, is an old idea in sales.  It is actually asking very well designed questions, listening carefully to the answers and then making a decision about what is best for the buyer.  The salesperson decides what is the best because they have the most knowledge of their solution line up.  The leader has to do just that.  Decide the direction on behalf of everyone based on their superior knowledge of what is the best solution for the organisation.   Communication skills are the critical factor between getting compliance and getting engagement.  The leader can extract obedience based on threats, hierarchy, force of personality and position power.  That is a long way from motivating the team to self motivate to crawl across a mile of broken glass to get the results for the firm.  Being able to frame questions in such a way to reveal to the listener, the team member, the realisation that their best interests are best served by doing what the leader has suggested, is the key communication skill the leader must have available to them.   This is where the leader presentation skills kick in.  How to understand the team, their fears, their desires and to be able to meet them in the thought processes populating their own minds.  The ability to package up complex offerings and make them clear and able to be consumed by all.    Words stir the hearts and minds of the team members, but does the leader have that ability?  That is why the presentation skills of the leader must be extremely high.  Garbled messages, unanimated delivery, uninspiring aspirations sabotage the leader's efforts to lead.  So many leaders though got to the top and somehow evaded the responsibility to become excellent communicators.  They relied on their technical skills and hid from the chance to reach out and gather people to them through their speaking skills.  They wander around making dopey statements about excellent speakers being “all style and no substance” to justify their own ineptitude.   Leaders who lead without advanced sales skills and speaking skills are playing at leading.  They flaunt and enjoy their status, while relying on the creaky apparatus of the company organisational chart to hold them up.  They are fake leaders.  These leadership Lilliputians are mediocrity personified. They are in deep denial.  They have only one circle of the leadership puzzle and continue to deny they lack the other two vital components.  They all get found out eventually and are exposed for their failings, their careers shattered on the rocks of self-delusion, timidity and fear of the unknown.  You don't have the necessary sales and presentation skills?  Well stop hiding from reality and go get them.  We need expertise at the highest levels in all three circles, if we are going to be a true leader. 

The way Missouri tracked hospital bed capacity was misleading at best and dangerously inaccurate at worst. KCUR health reporter Alex Smith talks about his recent investigation into this issue.

In today's episode, Hilary gives Megan the lowdown on the rise and fall and rise again of iconic American rock band My Chemical Romance. Topics discussed include not knowing the ages of rock dudes, the ins and outs of a high concept creative process, and why Gerard Way is so obsessed with the Kennedys (like the rest of us). Special shoutout in the beginning to My Chemical Fancast!

Where back with the host of the Phucaname Podcast Eric Nixon! Were talking relationships in pop culture and this time were focusing on Friendships, rivalries and enemies. We also talk a bit of nerd news and whats popping in the real world before we look at how media influences our relationship and how we interpret them. So sit back pop your headphones in and listen to latest episode of Garbled!!! https://www.instagram.com/phucaname/

"Why didn't the slaves revolt?" They did. A lot.  We just weren't taught about it.  Here's a humble start at fixing that. 04:56 Stono Rebellion 11:35 New York plot 15:56 Black Seminole 22:45 Nat Turner - Garbled Twistory 27:40 German Coast Uprising 32:50 Occupation of Alcatraz promo: Everything Everywhere Did you get a chance to leave a review for the YBOF book?  Someone just posted a bad review :( and I'd love to get the average back up. Read the full script. Reach out and touch Moxie on FB, Twit, the 'Gram or email.

I bet you heard the noise without us even saying it, didn't you. Samson's been on a real Arnold kick and tells us all about the many amazing movies he's been in. We also discuss the creators of Avatar the Last Airbender leaving the Netflix show, YouTube creators moving to Twitch, how James Gunn is making us care about Suicide Squad, Netflix's shuffle button, Lovecraft Country, Infinity Train, and more! Follow us on Social Media to stay up to date Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/boredandbrowsingpodcast/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/BorednBrowsePod --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/boredandbrowsing/message

We still in the SEASON OF RONA ya'll! So what the hell is the United States doing right now??? My guest Ramon, of the Garbled Podcast, talk about these Corona Times and how the American society as a whole is letting us down. And so much more. --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/gadgetsandgeekery/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/gadgetsandgeekery/support

Series: N/AService: Sun AMType: SermonSpeaker: Dale Smelser

This week we actually discussed video games for most of the episode. We aren’t even having to lie about being a video game podcast anymore, which is pretty cool. Todd and Andy are way into Borderlands 3 at the moment, Dale is way into Kakarot, and pinball is cool. Also, some health advice is given, are you checking yourself?

Recorded February 15, 2020 Follow on Twitter @3RShow On this edition of #3RShow I talk with Nick & Roman, Hosts of the “The Garbled” podcast. We talk about how they almost got arrested, ALMOST. Their meeting & re-meeting again, other podcast ambitions. The Garbaled Podcast https://linktr.ee/Garbledpodcast SEE the YouTube interview: https://youtu.be/qxzJYAEx93I Follow Them!!@garbledpodcast on Instagram@Garbledpodcast on Twitter BlackRamboAmmo.com Digital Pyramids: https://open.spotify.com/track/7n8rFaWvLWPc51bC1ZGWPv    CALL THE SHOW! Leave a "RANDOM' voicemail  304 TALK ROB  (304 825-5762)  30 day FREE Amazon Prime Trial http://amzn.to/2oQ8QW4 

How do I ask them out? Where do we go? What should I say? When do I call back? These questions have floated thru all our heads. Dating can be stressful but it shouldn't be, and it doesn't have to be. Sit back relax and listen to some tips that'll get you thru the experience.

Join us as we review Birds of Prey.... :) ............ :)......... :)...... ;) >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> ;)

We kick off the 1st episode of season 3, all while paying attention to the Garbled Podcast drinking game. What does it actually mean to be the very best? Why are there so many athletes that pushed their bodies to the extreme, that risk life and limb to play their sport? And then how do you take that same energy and apply it outside of sports? Those are the questions were grappling with today as we are joined by the Patron Saint of Garbled, Mr. Dan Dinkins of the Starting 5 podcast. Starting 5 Podcast https://www.facebook.com/groups/577971386096987/?ref=share

We continue our coverage of HBO Watchmen, we are joined again by Bria "The Professional Jawn" of Jawnism , Jamal "Knight Sparks" and Adriana the Co-Director of Nerdtino. We wrap up our coverage of Watchmen the ups and downs, the fan theories, the questions that we are left with, Who is Lady Truie? Is Dr. Manhattan dead? Will Angela walk on water? What is Ozymandias final plan? Join us as we tie all the threads together, and watch out for the squid rain!!!

In our continuing review of the HBO series Watchmen we are joined by Bria “The Professional Jawn” and “KnightSparks”. In episode 8 we are finally treated to what its like to experience every moment of your life as a continuous experience thru the eyes of Dr. Manhattan. We also talk about storytelling, the unfolding love story, the religious connotations, and our theories on how season 1 will end.

We are halfway through the holiday season and while this time of year brings joy and fond memories for a lot of us it also comes with this uneasy tension. The possibility of a disaster hovers over us but does it have to? Sit back relax as we revisit our Holiday Survival Guide. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/black-tribbles/message

We continue our coverage of HBO’s Watchmen. Were joined by Knight Sparks and Bria “The Professional Jawn”. Episode 7 begins to tie all the threads together, we get into Angela’s origin story, we see more of Lady Tru’s plan, we talk about why Agent Blake is the worst FBI agent ever, and the biggest reveal this season …the location of Dr. Manhattan. We also make predictions and talk about why this has been a fun journey. Keep tuning in as there are only 2 episodes left in this groundbreaking series!

Episode 6 of Watchmen takes us to the early 40’s and finally gives us the identity of Hooded Justice. As Sister Night delves deep into her grandfathers memories, we see the birth of the Minute Men that would later become the Watchmen. We also explore predictions for the future of the Watchmen. I’m joined yet again by Knight Sparks and Bria The professional Jawn.

Continuing our deep dive into HBO's hit series Watchmen, this week we talk about Looking Glass. His origins, relationships, and trauma. We also get historical context of the original squid attack, back in the original Watchmen, and the mystery of the 7th Cavalry deepens.

Now the pieces are moving across the board and we are beginning to see the threads that are pulled by unseen hands. A new Character is introduced, Lady Trieu, as the heir to Ozymandias legacy both literally and figuratively. We also get some what of a team up between Sister Night and Sally Blake A.K.A. Silk Spectre. We are joined again by Bria The Professional Jawn of www.jawnism.com and Knight Sparks.

Episode 2 Who watches the watchmen? Who is Police Chief Judd? Why do the cops wear mask? Where are the rest of the Watchmen? How did Rorschach become the symbol of a hate group? Tune in to hear our theories as we continue our in depth look at Watchmen. Featuring Knight Sparks of Amerime Media.

Silk Specter is back with a vengeance!!! What part will she play in this unfolding conspiracy? Where is Ozymandias? What will Sister Night do about Judd? What happen to the Watchmen? And more as we continue to deconstruct HBO’s new series.

We take a deep dive into the new HBO series Watchmen Starring Regina King. We talk about the hidden tragedy of Black Wall Street, the shows focus on racial tension and the other ways that HBO has done to update Watchmen for 2019.

Nick and Ramon take a deep dive into the first 3 episodes of HBO's WATCHMEN, starring Regina King and produced by Damien Lindlelof. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/black-tribbles/message

We were part of the Blackfinity Gauntlet Panel at J1-Con along with a talented group of content creators. Note: Our Fan Film is now on our YouTube page https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v9VjKzHEEGE Subscribe to us on itunes rate 5* @ https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/blacklisted-podcast/id1058504075?mt=2 PodOmatic http://blacklisted.podomatic.com/ Stitcher http://www.stitcher.com/podcast/blacklisted?refid=stpr Google Play https://play.google.com/music/m/Imonfnjs7535svy3wtwdx7rhbpa?t%3DBlacklisted_Podcast IHeartRadio https://www.iheart.com/podcast/256-blacklisted-podcast-30972563/ Spotify https://open.spotify.com/show/01L8OZCsaKQZrN2Lm2vb22 Or wherever you steal your free podcast.

While attending J1-Con 2019 Garbled participated in the BlackFinity Gauntlet panel. We had the opportunity to talk with some of the Panelist and content creators and talk to them on there process, we then got into an impromptu round-table discussion as per usual, so sit back, relax, and enjoy. https://www.facebook.com/Headnerdsincharge/ https://www.randomrobcast.com/ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_EPvy7Uczgg&feature=youtu.be https://www.thestarting5show.com/the-starting-5 https://tap.bio/@BlacklistedPodcast

It’s been a long time in comics since a character was created who just so happened to be a person of color. Or has it? With the comic book blockbuster movie, proving to be a cash cow there’s a big push to recreate characters as people of color (or you could just create characters that are diverse, to begin with, but anyways). So we’re looking at the ones that have worked and why. We also make a pitch to re-imagine the X-men and what that might mean moving into the MCU. I'm joined again by Bria, “The Professional Jawn” of Jawnisim, “KnightSparkz” of Amerime Media. https://www.jawnism.com/ https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC0IdIjfKgte3_dQ44neE5Yw --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/black-tribbles/message

Listen in on our round-table discussion on Joaquin Phoenix’s “Joker”. This week we are joined by Puchi Saru, Bria, “The Professional Jawn” of Jawnisim, “KnightSparkz” of Amerime Media and Jessica Rambo, from the Pop Inn in Chalfont PA. There’s no mincing words here this film maybe the single greatest achievement by DC in their cinematic universe. The first 10 minutes are also on Puchi Saru’s YouTube channel so go check that out! --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/black-tribbles/message

Garbled Twistory is a retelling of common history in the most unconventional style. What The Show is Doing Right Lots of creativity making the show very unique Audio quality is not bad (mixing issues) What The Show Might Consider Doing Moving Forward S...