Podcasts about knowlege

In the last episode, we examined the research on comprehension instruction and how it has changed. In this episode we are exploring the kinds of instruction that should count when it comes to teaching students to comprehend what they read. It gets into issues of knowledge, strategies, questioning routines, and language.

f you would like all this lovely content without the adverts then follow the link https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/calming-anxiety--4110266/supportBook your one on one hypnotherapy with Martin - https://calendar.app.google/rXHMt8sRYft5iWma8Take back control over your negative thoughts and calm pain and anxiety with this beautiful course in conjunction with The Physio Crew - https://offers.thephysiocrew.co.uk/home-pain Don't forget the app and now all our podcasts are also on YouTube.Gift the app to a loved one, friend or colleague - https://www.martinhewlett.co.uk/shop/calming-anxiety-gift-subscription/Try out the new , beautiful and simple breathing challenge to help you relax.https://www.martinhewlett.co.uk/breathing-challenge/Don't forget to download app....Calming Anxiety for IOS - https://apps.apple.com/gb/app/calming-anxiety/id1576159331Calming Anxiety for Android - https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=digital.waterfront.calming.anxiety&hl=en-GBPlease download and enjoy.If you have found benefit from my podcast I do have a "buy me a coffee" page which helps to fund the hosting costs and all the time. :)https://www.buymeacoffee.com/calminganxietyI am always open to requests and tips as I try to help as many people as possible .My email is calminganxiety@martinhewlett.co.ukFor those younger listeners struggling with the stress of social media, do check out this amazing website. https://www.icanhelp.net/If you have found benefit in any of our podcasts then it would really help if you could subscribe as well to our YouTube Channel - https://www.youtube.com/c/martinhewlett?sub_confirmation=1Backing Music by Chris Collins============Affiliate links to the gear I use the items that give me a more tranquil life.Rode Podmic - https://amzn.to/3LN1JEdZoom Livetrak L8 - https://amzn.to/36UCIbySony ZV 1 - https://amzn.to/3JvDUPTGoPro Hero 8 Black - https://amzn.to/372rzFlDJI Mini 2 - https://amzn.to/3NQfMdY=============================Items I use for a more relaxed way of life :)Organic Pure Hemp CBD Capsules - https://amzn.to/3

In this episode we talk about TGL results (Yes, we actually watched it!) , how sick the gallery rule is, and then finally a quiz about golf.

Commusings: Knowlege Is Not Enough with Rangan Chatterjee

WOW!!!

Romans 11.33-36--Oh, The Depths of The Riches of The Wisdome and Knowlege of God by Jerad File

Khatungmani Khorang

Blue eyes, it is. I wish, I wish, Be careful what you wish for, Or cook in a Petri dish The world is a stage, The people a plague The magic was gone, The days were the same. [The Festival Project ™] Blonde hair, blue eyes; Live once, lose twice— Brown skin, brown eyes Die inside. (Or just die.) {Rewind} Captain Captain! Oh, Good, come in, Cannon. You've—changed. …as you know, Monday we disembark. Yes, I'm aware. And as you know, the details of the mission have been classified, even to us. Yes. I find that alarming. And so, without anymore thought I've decided to masquerade as my old self. How old are you, anyway? You should never ask a woman her age, LT. Sargent. * or the other way around, I clearly don't know. Sorry. Your recent promotion keeps slipping my mind; I…haven't been myself lately… Obviously not, if you've decided to publicly dress like that. I'm still very much in the privacy of my office. You can consider me the spokesperson on behalf of the public. Never as a woman her age! You're not a woman; you're my captain. We'll see about that after tonight. Being a woman, or being my captain? Both, probably. Hm. By any chance would you be interested in joining me? As your subordinate, or as a man. Both, probably. Or neither… presumably. As my escort. I beg your pardon. I've been known to become rather out of sorts in this condition. —er, your condition, captain? Dead drunk and blind with fear out of my mind. [he ponders for a moment, knowing that the mission could very well be their last.] Consider it done. Great. Get dressed, and meet me with the car out front in half an hour. Half an hour? Sharp. Bonus points for showing up early. We're earning points? We are now. Very well then. What am I wearing? Something sharp. Sharper than the inside of a half hour. On your mark. I'll—see you soon. He exits the captain's office, letting out a sigh of relief otherwise previously congested, he looks around as if not to be caught, regains his composure with the shake of his head, somewhat in disbelief of what he's witnessed. He casually places his hands in his pockets, walking down the hall and passing one of his crew mates, who quickly stops to salute him. Sergeant. Almost forgetting to salute back, mindlessly drifting passed in ‘off' mode, he slowly and squarely, almost still casually, salutes back. Oh. I had glimpsed at a picture of the man once more that had forced me to wonder— “Jesus Christ, is he okay?” It would be odd to think of a man who has spent a better part of the last two decades and most of his careers on camera as unphotogenic, then again—I had been tricked by the media before into thinking a certain way, and therefore was cautious, and still—I began to wonder about the man and his misery, and his mistresses—not out of jealousy or obsession, but simply because I knew he had them. He was old Hollywood, or old New York—or maybe a bit of both, and there was something about it all, perhaps even my own darkness, that danced with the flicker of sinful lust that motioned me towards not a yearning, or the act of doing so—I was at least wise enough to know nothing good could come from doing harm to oneself or another— but with the intensity of burning desire to know the man behind the mask—the actor inside the actor, to whom all the world's a stage. Whatever, though. Doesn't matter. At least I was still somehow youthfully resilient to what might have otherwise been torture, TVP S2- after Esha's promotion to head writer. DAEMON DALLAS, aka “DASH” is a quick witted, fast-talking comic powerhouse— his legendary stand up and acting career has made him a legendary force in movies, film, and television; he has been booked on the show to sit down with his longtime friend Patrick about his new stand up comedy tour. — Who's this beautiful sister. My head writer; don't even think about it. I dont think. I just do. Esha approaches— Dash politely bo s and kisses Esha's hand Should I get tested? —and funny. Against Patrick's wishes, Esha accepts a date with daemon dash, furious Patrick means to interrogate her Why would you even date that asshole Because—Pat. He's a comedian. I'm a comedian! So? So, he's funny. And? And he said things to me— What kind of things Charming, funny things— Okay? Things he wouldnt say to you over dinner— because, I'm —you're a woman. —and your head writer. So naturally. Esh, you're a genius, So is he. We have—some new material to work through. Ahq! Your monologue tonight. Oh yes. Oh yes. You can thank me later. Broken bottles. :9'd one stop her Walkin walking God knows I don't belong here And I don't want to Passover was April 21-30 Global War on Terrorism Aka WWIII Oh, indeed. Don't look left Take a deep breath My heart beats differently I think it might be the end I think it might be I think I might be the enemy The pushing mechanism When i breath him in I levitate And gravitate to what it meant The sake of the art, The hurt of the heart As sacred as it ever was The turning or the Torah talks of Gestures, since the fall of Rome The toga on the alter Solid hands unwrap us all From falling over Old and awkward No award for wisdom No rest for the wiser No love for the troll Since thunder struck from under us, Delivered all but what we wanted So we talk of karma sutra, Surely we can't talk at all Of what we know As once was bonded Laughed it off To come from what The call to us, Fair serve governors fortress I work up in mentions Carved the scarlet letter out of Cannons, of course MA. WHAT. I'm BUSY. ITS ON. The what? The show we watch! The one that— YES, Oh, my GOD. Yes. YESSSSSSSSS. Usnavi, get your popcorn This is some worth watching Up in arms for forwards Causing sore arms, Numb thumbs From crucifixes Are you wondering what God Would walk about the horned carving A kamazake walk of tall corn— Follow me, dear mantra Your whole house is watching. Sacre. It's happening again isn't it. I do want ice cream. All I need is a divorce And an Amazon woman 10 foot tall To rub me off at the stroke of Nevermind what the clock says In God's house they're all wrong The blsphomoous for Catholics Has begun, So strum your number into the teleprompter And just hope no one gets hurt By the hook on the next song —like the hook of my last surviving bra digs into my back does, Or the skin on my lack of tummy Has rubbed off under the suicide Of the cycle— It's getting tighter A loss of interest is equal to A loss of conciousness And I'm 21 days drunk On the alternate, though— I'm sober and feeling less Loved. The animal I've become is all cardio And karma sutra For karma comes To the weak of heart To use the world as swords To cause harm To the calm artists I thought I told you off once. (Already) You look awful. lol. You look terrible, broh. But my album sound fire. #producerholes [portal] It's coffee time!! It's not coffee time! It's not coffee time. Iiiiits coffee time. Damn. Where's the cat. Gestating. My phone was never the first thing I reached for in the morning—but I was sure there was something missing in my mind from a place in LA that I used to frequent, that sold giant frosted cookies that were also vegan. There was donut friend, which I always enjoyed and craved—but I was sure—absolutely sure that I was missing a m cookie, and it was absolutely driving me wild that I couldn't think of the place, or find it on Google. Has it been before turning vegan? Was my memory failing me in thinking that the cupcakes and donuts that I had often brought back to the hostel in boxes were timetimes cookies also? It seemed like there were cookies…and I'm sure that there were, as I could remember the thick frosting often being sweet and decadent enough to lick from the top, and that the bottom cookie was sweet and soft, and usually warm—and that I almost always couldn't finish the cookie in one sitting. Had this all been before I went vegan? I was sure I distinctly remembered sitting atop my bunk at The Freehand savoring this cookie, but a google search yeikded no results—none that I could find familiar, and it bothered me so much that I actually decided to start my day just on the tip of figuring out what it was was. As I crossed through my apartment, realizing I hadn't bothered to throw the trash out after mopping and went m directly to bed early, not with the consideration of rising early but really just out of exhaustion, I had decided that in order to get work done that my workouts would have to be pushed toward the end of my day, somewhere between still having the energy to manage and not being disturbed—as I had seen that girl to at I very specifically didn't like again m, I had realized that again, I was correct— even after an hour of working out, I simply didn't like her energy. There must have been something wrong with her—or incompatible about us altogether; she had come into the gym quietly and was sort of hiding and even still, I had instantly recognized that there was a foreign energy—and squinting to see her, saw that she was crouched on the other side of the gym. I dismounted the stationary bike and figured that an hour of cardio would be enough for the time. Strength training would only force me to crave protein—-and I was running low saving everything that I had in order to better strategize an arrangement which didn't leave me at the bottom of New York's merciless barrel. It seemed I wasn't going to get the job at Equinox after all—it had been nearly a week since my interview with them, and having not heard anything back, I realized that everything, no matter what—was always just a game. I needed to figure out how better to play it before my life ended abruptly on some sort of whim. Sitting down in the darkened bathroom, I realized that in order to restore and keep my energy, I should be unseen, and unheard. ‘Keep your head down.' I'm sure there was some type of code or rule for the way I should handle myself in public or even in private all well knowing the types of things I had writtten about, let alone which had been published—and while I planned to clear out what written works had made it into cyberspace unchecked, there was nothing less important to me than the actual world, what it expected of me, or who was in it. I hadn't entirely failed yet, but I also hadn't entirely succeeded, and after a strange series of dreams— almost all of them more interesting than the one with the cookie, (mentioning that the reason I had been curious about the cookie in the first place was from a strange series of dreams) “Ohhh, you know what—that might have actually been that place in Vegas, before I went vegan.” The boxes at the freehand must have been all from donut friend and Sprinkles—and it astonished me how much of a sweet tooth I actually had which was sort of now quite well managed. There was no sugar or even salt in the house— and with the lack of food that I actually had in my apartment, for at least something like the next two weeks, I was sure that I'd reach minimum weight—absolutely minimum weight— by the turn of the month. That is, all the weight I could lose betsides what needed to be surgically removed, and there was some sort of plan formulating somewhere outside of myself in exactly how that would be achieved. Because at any rate—I knew that it would. There were no more cookies, no more donuts, and no more cupcakes, besides the occasional box of the frozen type I had ordered from Amazon fresh which I did thoroughly enjoy, almost always in one sitting after a wild amount of cardio had implemented a faster metabolism and brought me to the realization that so much cardio meant that entirely that I could eat ‘whatever in the fuck I wanted' without gaining any weight or even losing it—and as I stepped up to take a shower, pulling my shirt up and over my chest, I inspected my abdomen, though holding bloat from pinto beans and deep fried sweet potatoes, still toned with the definition lines I had only just now learned that I had, creviced and notations of my sometimes 4 or 6 pack abs, though hidden under the sagging skin of my once maternal belly— still evident at all, and a factor of my minimal pride in that I had gone in one lifetime from one body and into many others— and one day, an even more drastically different one. I fantasized owning a peloton but realized that I may have to settle on a rental until I had outfitted myself with some sort of safety net. lol there's a sweet potato emoji. wtf. I don't know how you did this but— I woke up. Apparently, I'm Lorne Michaels. Please stop. I don't know what that means. You know what If I was pretty Nobody would hate me for anything I swear to God only ugly people are punished or any or all of our matings. I lost the ability to see worth in myself. I also lost the ability to write good songs. Just let me watch bad girls club And wait for the motorcycles To make my night A living hell “I didn't mean for this to happen, Jimmy Fallon. “ It was a whisper, actually— less than that, as I set the stone with the others above the amulet— I placed easch crystal carefully at the alter, keeping only two of them for myself; the rest, as guardians to the amulet. I could no longer keep such a relic around my neck; it had become quite heavy, and the dreams had become deep and more illusive, and it seemed there was some dark spirit along to it after all—and after all— the amulet was my only living son's, anyway, intended as a gift and charm of protection for when I next saw him—whenever that could be, or would be. It had been a long and interesting but altogether uneventful year, and now, not even feeling right in my own self, I intended to continue hiding, and perhaps even burrow further away until I was granted a full and proper divorce; my ex husband using his refusal to sign the papers as a final act of control, and though I almost found it admirable, I only became more dismissive of it—the person I was then, simply was no more; in fact, she was dead enough indeed that to disappear and become a ghost could do no worse than to further alter the course of time and distance it would take to ever become in such a way again—that is, if it were infinite, and for peace of mind and freedom of spirit and soul from bondsge, insisted it wasn't. It was less than a whisper enough that none other besides God could have heard it, and yet it seemed something or someone had—as a door quickly slammed as the words—words which meant a name I was sure I would never say again—“Jimmy Fallon” left my mouth. I couldn't come close to words at all let alone a name, and especially not a song; but then, of course, there was The Book of Knowlege never to have been spoken and as always, the ever moving truth of songs— There were other Gods that new no words at all besides the melodies and rhythms of our hearts—and there never really was every truly a Jimmy Fallon at all— Only myself. Whatever the fuck. Alright, alright. It was next in the que with purpose, probably but quite on accident— Now I could continue in my pattern of dulling my brain for the remainder of the night as I had been all day. Since March I had seemed to cry what I thought were the rest of my tears, and however, after a particularly mind numbing day of trash television and Olympic surfing, it seemed the ocean alone was enough to pull from what was left of my soul, and as it turned out, it still was there. I was bored of the brokenness of New York—something like living in a rotten and spoiled toy, with the limits I had been given—and though I should have been happy, to finally just have my own place— the people surrounding, as always, ruined it— Them being myself aside. I wished the things outside of me were quieter. Now I could finally almost put my mind out of focus for just a little bit longer—and creep on Johnny Depp without doing it intentionally. I had stopped looking up famous people, besides some women and businessmen I knew could never feign my interest anyway. It was never about money— and always about creative intelligence; I hadn't seen the movie as an adult, and so I was sure it would have some insight to offer. I tried to forget that I had aged out of almost everything—and that my mother had so greedily destroyed any real chance I had at becoming what I might have been with anybody else as a mother—or at least some one around to watch her raise me and correct her damaging actions, words, and harsh thoughts. At least she had taught me to read and write—and if worst actually came to worse—which it was starting to look like—how to trade my body and time in exchange for things I wanted and needed. All women were nearly prostitutes in some way, anyhow—and the only thing deterring me from it was on every honest God I ever thought of, the fact that white women made more in sex work than colored women did. — it almost hurt to watch Olympic surfing. Actually, it did. It hurt, a lot. What's a girl Have you ever had a girl before? What's world when you're wound up in an orphanage Probably astounding I've got a shadow Sad, should have danced with him Now he's so mad that —I don't even touch my guitar No more I have words No songs The whole world's At war And to surf — you need water I love New York But hate Thus corner of Brooklyn I want to go up Testosterone —I've got a word for the goner “Gonzo” I've got a cannon Or blonde, for reference Why were all stalkers I'll book The Tonight Show, I'll summon up Carson A , I promise— A good time was had —I promise, no subtle obsession. I made a decision, I went with it Just a protagonist, actor— A comic Producer, by marriage I swear, It's just adding up evidence If ever gets intensities Offensive, this illumination — I don't doubt you. I want chocolate milk What even is that? I've been eating healthy I've got half an album out And half inside my head With Donnie Brasco I've got half a million dollars somewhere Stuffed inside my cunt, I think With hallmark cards and shopping carts I owe them half a fortune I hate it so much I watch a whole soul Come out if television I love it so much But I hate the whole public And crowding I don't want love I want fucks I want puppies —Jesus he's beautiful My ex husband had similar facial structure to Mr Depp respectively, I'm guessing my artistry, Intention, A preteen obsession at least sort of paid off. Somehow. Now it's my eyes on the other, the older — The way that he sits and does nothing but slump —Al Pacino, they call him? The false father and forced profits often acknowledged The love of the old and weathered. For once I woke up to a record 33 rotations a minute {Enter The Multiverse} —what are you gonna do? Blondes and shit. The best of the best— —I'll tell ya, I recommend it (Recommended by a Friend) I have a headache twice my age. I made a mistake half my life ago Woke up this morning Bought myself a gun To make it right {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] The Complex Collective. © COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019 | 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © {Rewind}

Blue eyes, it is. I wish, I wish, Be careful what you wish for, Or cook in a Petri dish The world is a stage, The people a plague The magic was gone, The days were the same. [The Festival Project ™] Blonde hair, blue eyes; Live once, lose twice— Brown skin, brown eyes Die inside. (Or just die.) {Rewind} Captain Captain! Oh, Good, come in, Cannon. You've—changed. …as you know, Monday we disembark. Yes, I'm aware. And as you know, the details of the mission have been classified, even to us. Yes. I find that alarming. And so, without anymore thought I've decided to masquerade as my old self. How old are you, anyway? You should never ask a woman her age, LT. Sargent. * or the other way around, I clearly don't know. Sorry. Your recent promotion keeps slipping my mind; I…haven't been myself lately… Obviously not, if you've decided to publicly dress like that. I'm still very much in the privacy of my office. You can consider me the spokesperson on behalf of the public. Never as a woman her age! You're not a woman; you're my captain. We'll see about that after tonight. Being a woman, or being my captain? Both, probably. Hm. By any chance would you be interested in joining me? As your subordinate, or as a man. Both, probably. Or neither… presumably. As my escort. I beg your pardon. I've been known to become rather out of sorts in this condition. —er, your condition, captain? Dead drunk and blind with fear out of my mind. [he ponders for a moment, knowing that the mission could very well be their last.] Consider it done. Great. Get dressed, and meet me with the car out front in half an hour. Half an hour? Sharp. Bonus points for showing up early. We're earning points? We are now. Very well then. What am I wearing? Something sharp. Sharper than the inside of a half hour. On your mark. I'll—see you soon. He exits the captain's office, letting out a sigh of relief otherwise previously congested, he looks around as if not to be caught, regains his composure with the shake of his head, somewhat in disbelief of what he's witnessed. He casually places his hands in his pockets, walking down the hall and passing one of his crew mates, who quickly stops to salute him. Sergeant. Almost forgetting to salute back, mindlessly drifting passed in ‘off' mode, he slowly and squarely, almost still casually, salutes back. Oh. I had glimpsed at a picture of the man once more that had forced me to wonder— “Jesus Christ, is he okay?” It would be odd to think of a man who has spent a better part of the last two decades and most of his careers on camera as unphotogenic, then again—I had been tricked by the media before into thinking a certain way, and therefore was cautious, and still—I began to wonder about the man and his misery, and his mistresses—not out of jealousy or obsession, but simply because I knew he had them. He was old Hollywood, or old New York—or maybe a bit of both, and there was something about it all, perhaps even my own darkness, that danced with the flicker of sinful lust that motioned me towards not a yearning, or the act of doing so—I was at least wise enough to know nothing good could come from doing harm to oneself or another— but with the intensity of burning desire to know the man behind the mask—the actor inside the actor, to whom all the world's a stage. Whatever, though. Doesn't matter. At least I was still somehow youthfully resilient to what might have otherwise been torture, TVP S2- after Esha's promotion to head writer. DAEMON DALLAS, aka “DASH” is a quick witted, fast-talking comic powerhouse— his legendary stand up and acting career has made him a legendary force in movies, film, and television; he has been booked on the show to sit down with his longtime friend Patrick about his new stand up comedy tour. — Who's this beautiful sister. My head writer; don't even think about it. I dont think. I just do. Esha approaches— Dash politely bo s and kisses Esha's hand Should I get tested? —and funny. Against Patrick's wishes, Esha accepts a date with daemon dash, furious Patrick means to interrogate her Why would you even date that asshole Because—Pat. He's a comedian. I'm a comedian! So? So, he's funny. And? And he said things to me— What kind of things Charming, funny things— Okay? Things he wouldnt say to you over dinner— because, I'm —you're a woman. —and your head writer. So naturally. Esh, you're a genius, So is he. We have—some new material to work through. Ahq! Your monologue tonight. Oh yes. Oh yes. You can thank me later. Broken bottles. :9'd one stop her Walkin walking God knows I don't belong here And I don't want to Passover was April 21-30 Global War on Terrorism Aka WWIII Oh, indeed. Don't look left Take a deep breath My heart beats differently I think it might be the end I think it might be I think I might be the enemy The pushing mechanism When i breath him in I levitate And gravitate to what it meant The sake of the art, The hurt of the heart As sacred as it ever was The turning or the Torah talks of Gestures, since the fall of Rome The toga on the alter Solid hands unwrap us all From falling over Old and awkward No award for wisdom No rest for the wiser No love for the troll Since thunder struck from under us, Delivered all but what we wanted So we talk of karma sutra, Surely we can't talk at all Of what we know As once was bonded Laughed it off To come from what The call to us, Fair serve governors fortress I work up in mentions Carved the scarlet letter out of Cannons, of course MA. WHAT. I'm BUSY. ITS ON. The what? The show we watch! The one that— YES, Oh, my GOD. Yes. YESSSSSSSSS. Usnavi, get your popcorn This is some worth watching Up in arms for forwards Causing sore arms, Numb thumbs From crucifixes Are you wondering what God Would walk about the horned carving A kamazake walk of tall corn— Follow me, dear mantra Your whole house is watching. Sacre. It's happening again isn't it. I do want ice cream. All I need is a divorce And an Amazon woman 10 foot tall To rub me off at the stroke of Nevermind what the clock says In God's house they're all wrong The blsphomoous for Catholics Has begun, So strum your number into the teleprompter And just hope no one gets hurt By the hook on the next song —like the hook of my last surviving bra digs into my back does, Or the skin on my lack of tummy Has rubbed off under the suicide Of the cycle— It's getting tighter A loss of interest is equal to A loss of conciousness And I'm 21 days drunk On the alternate, though— I'm sober and feeling less Loved. The animal I've become is all cardio And karma sutra For karma comes To the weak of heart To use the world as swords To cause harm To the calm artists I thought I told you off once. (Already) You look awful. lol. You look terrible, broh. But my album sound fire. #producerholes [portal] It's coffee time!! It's not coffee time! It's not coffee time. Iiiiits coffee time. Damn. Where's the cat. Gestating. My phone was never the first thing I reached for in the morning—but I was sure there was something missing in my mind from a place in LA that I used to frequent, that sold giant frosted cookies that were also vegan. There was donut friend, which I always enjoyed and craved—but I was sure—absolutely sure that I was missing a m cookie, and it was absolutely driving me wild that I couldn't think of the place, or find it on Google. Has it been before turning vegan? Was my memory failing me in thinking that the cupcakes and donuts that I had often brought back to the hostel in boxes were timetimes cookies also? It seemed like there were cookies…and I'm sure that there were, as I could remember the thick frosting often being sweet and decadent enough to lick from the top, and that the bottom cookie was sweet and soft, and usually warm—and that I almost always couldn't finish the cookie in one sitting. Had this all been before I went vegan? I was sure I distinctly remembered sitting atop my bunk at The Freehand savoring this cookie, but a google search yeikded no results—none that I could find familiar, and it bothered me so much that I actually decided to start my day just on the tip of figuring out what it was was. As I crossed through my apartment, realizing I hadn't bothered to throw the trash out after mopping and went m directly to bed early, not with the consideration of rising early but really just out of exhaustion, I had decided that in order to get work done that my workouts would have to be pushed toward the end of my day, somewhere between still having the energy to manage and not being disturbed—as I had seen that girl to at I very specifically didn't like again m, I had realized that again, I was correct— even after an hour of working out, I simply didn't like her energy. There must have been something wrong with her—or incompatible about us altogether; she had come into the gym quietly and was sort of hiding and even still, I had instantly recognized that there was a foreign energy—and squinting to see her, saw that she was crouched on the other side of the gym. I dismounted the stationary bike and figured that an hour of cardio would be enough for the time. Strength training would only force me to crave protein—-and I was running low saving everything that I had in order to better strategize an arrangement which didn't leave me at the bottom of New York's merciless barrel. It seemed I wasn't going to get the job at Equinox after all—it had been nearly a week since my interview with them, and having not heard anything back, I realized that everything, no matter what—was always just a game. I needed to figure out how better to play it before my life ended abruptly on some sort of whim. Sitting down in the darkened bathroom, I realized that in order to restore and keep my energy, I should be unseen, and unheard. ‘Keep your head down.' I'm sure there was some type of code or rule for the way I should handle myself in public or even in private all well knowing the types of things I had writtten about, let alone which had been published—and while I planned to clear out what written works had made it into cyberspace unchecked, there was nothing less important to me than the actual world, what it expected of me, or who was in it. I hadn't entirely failed yet, but I also hadn't entirely succeeded, and after a strange series of dreams— almost all of them more interesting than the one with the cookie, (mentioning that the reason I had been curious about the cookie in the first place was from a strange series of dreams) “Ohhh, you know what—that might have actually been that place in Vegas, before I went vegan.” The boxes at the freehand must have been all from donut friend and Sprinkles—and it astonished me how much of a sweet tooth I actually had which was sort of now quite well managed. There was no sugar or even salt in the house— and with the lack of food that I actually had in my apartment, for at least something like the next two weeks, I was sure that I'd reach minimum weight—absolutely minimum weight— by the turn of the month. That is, all the weight I could lose betsides what needed to be surgically removed, and there was some sort of plan formulating somewhere outside of myself in exactly how that would be achieved. Because at any rate—I knew that it would. There were no more cookies, no more donuts, and no more cupcakes, besides the occasional box of the frozen type I had ordered from Amazon fresh which I did thoroughly enjoy, almost always in one sitting after a wild amount of cardio had implemented a faster metabolism and brought me to the realization that so much cardio meant that entirely that I could eat ‘whatever in the fuck I wanted' without gaining any weight or even losing it—and as I stepped up to take a shower, pulling my shirt up and over my chest, I inspected my abdomen, though holding bloat from pinto beans and deep fried sweet potatoes, still toned with the definition lines I had only just now learned that I had, creviced and notations of my sometimes 4 or 6 pack abs, though hidden under the sagging skin of my once maternal belly— still evident at all, and a factor of my minimal pride in that I had gone in one lifetime from one body and into many others— and one day, an even more drastically different one. I fantasized owning a peloton but realized that I may have to settle on a rental until I had outfitted myself with some sort of safety net. lol there's a sweet potato emoji. wtf. I don't know how you did this but— I woke up. Apparently, I'm Lorne Michaels. Please stop. I don't know what that means. You know what If I was pretty Nobody would hate me for anything I swear to God only ugly people are punished or any or all of our matings. I lost the ability to see worth in myself. I also lost the ability to write good songs. Just let me watch bad girls club And wait for the motorcycles To make my night A living hell “I didn't mean for this to happen, Jimmy Fallon. “ It was a whisper, actually— less than that, as I set the stone with the others above the amulet— I placed easch crystal carefully at the alter, keeping only two of them for myself; the rest, as guardians to the amulet. I could no longer keep such a relic around my neck; it had become quite heavy, and the dreams had become deep and more illusive, and it seemed there was some dark spirit along to it after all—and after all— the amulet was my only living son's, anyway, intended as a gift and charm of protection for when I next saw him—whenever that could be, or would be. It had been a long and interesting but altogether uneventful year, and now, not even feeling right in my own self, I intended to continue hiding, and perhaps even burrow further away until I was granted a full and proper divorce; my ex husband using his refusal to sign the papers as a final act of control, and though I almost found it admirable, I only became more dismissive of it—the person I was then, simply was no more; in fact, she was dead enough indeed that to disappear and become a ghost could do no worse than to further alter the course of time and distance it would take to ever become in such a way again—that is, if it were infinite, and for peace of mind and freedom of spirit and soul from bondsge, insisted it wasn't. It was less than a whisper enough that none other besides God could have heard it, and yet it seemed something or someone had—as a door quickly slammed as the words—words which meant a name I was sure I would never say again—“Jimmy Fallon” left my mouth. I couldn't come close to words at all let alone a name, and especially not a song; but then, of course, there was The Book of Knowlege never to have been spoken and as always, the ever moving truth of songs— There were other Gods that new no words at all besides the melodies and rhythms of our hearts—and there never really was every truly a Jimmy Fallon at all— Only myself. Whatever the fuck. Alright, alright. It was next in the que with purpose, probably but quite on accident— Now I could continue in my pattern of dulling my brain for the remainder of the night as I had been all day. Since March I had seemed to cry what I thought were the rest of my tears, and however, after a particularly mind numbing day of trash television and Olympic surfing, it seemed the ocean alone was enough to pull from what was left of my soul, and as it turned out, it still was there. I was bored of the brokenness of New York—something like living in a rotten and spoiled toy, with the limits I had been given—and though I should have been happy, to finally just have my own place— the people surrounding, as always, ruined it— Them being myself aside. I wished the things outside of me were quieter. Now I could finally almost put my mind out of focus for just a little bit longer—and creep on Johnny Depp without doing it intentionally. I had stopped looking up famous people, besides some women and businessmen I knew could never feign my interest anyway. It was never about money— and always about creative intelligence; I hadn't seen the movie as an adult, and so I was sure it would have some insight to offer. I tried to forget that I had aged out of almost everything—and that my mother had so greedily destroyed any real chance I had at becoming what I might have been with anybody else as a mother—or at least some one around to watch her raise me and correct her damaging actions, words, and harsh thoughts. At least she had taught me to read and write—and if worst actually came to worse—which it was starting to look like—how to trade my body and time in exchange for things I wanted and needed. All women were nearly prostitutes in some way, anyhow—and the only thing deterring me from it was on every honest God I ever thought of, the fact that white women made more in sex work than colored women did. — it almost hurt to watch Olympic surfing. Actually, it did. It hurt, a lot. What's a girl Have you ever had a girl before? What's world when you're wound up in an orphanage Probably astounding I've got a shadow Sad, should have danced with him Now he's so mad that —I don't even touch my guitar No more I have words No songs The whole world's At war And to surf — you need water I love New York But hate Thus corner of Brooklyn I want to go up Testosterone —I've got a word for the goner “Gonzo” I've got a cannon Or blonde, for reference Why were all stalkers I'll book The Tonight Show, I'll summon up Carson A , I promise— A good time was had —I promise, no subtle obsession. I made a decision, I went with it Just a protagonist, actor— A comic Producer, by marriage I swear, It's just adding up evidence If ever gets intensities Offensive, this illumination — I don't doubt you. I want chocolate milk What even is that? I've been eating healthy I've got half an album out And half inside my head With Donnie Brasco I've got half a million dollars somewhere Stuffed inside my cunt, I think With hallmark cards and shopping carts I owe them half a fortune I hate it so much I watch a whole soul Come out if television I love it so much But I hate the whole public And crowding I don't want love I want fucks I want puppies —Jesus he's beautiful My ex husband had similar facial structure to Mr Depp respectively, I'm guessing my artistry, Intention, A preteen obsession at least sort of paid off. Somehow. Now it's my eyes on the other, the older — The way that he sits and does nothing but slump —Al Pacino, they call him? The false father and forced profits often acknowledged The love of the old and weathered. For once I woke up to a record 33 rotations a minute {Enter The Multiverse} —what are you gonna do? Blondes and shit. The best of the best— —I'll tell ya, I recommend it (Recommended by a Friend) I have a headache twice my age. I made a mistake half my life ago Woke up this morning Bought myself a gun To make it right {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] The Complex Collective. © COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019 | 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © {Rewind}

Blue eyes, it is. I wish, I wish, Be careful what you wish for, Or cook in a Petri dish The world is a stage, The people a plague The magic was gone, The days were the same. [The Festival Project ™] Blonde hair, blue eyes; Live once, lose twice— Brown skin, brown eyes Die inside. (Or just die.) {Rewind} Captain Captain! Oh, Good, come in, Cannon. You've—changed. …as you know, Monday we disembark. Yes, I'm aware. And as you know, the details of the mission have been classified, even to us. Yes. I find that alarming. And so, without anymore thought I've decided to masquerade as my old self. How old are you, anyway? You should never ask a woman her age, LT. Sargent. * or the other way around, I clearly don't know. Sorry. Your recent promotion keeps slipping my mind; I…haven't been myself lately… Obviously not, if you've decided to publicly dress like that. I'm still very much in the privacy of my office. You can consider me the spokesperson on behalf of the public. Never as a woman her age! You're not a woman; you're my captain. We'll see about that after tonight. Being a woman, or being my captain? Both, probably. Hm. By any chance would you be interested in joining me? As your subordinate, or as a man. Both, probably. Or neither… presumably. As my escort. I beg your pardon. I've been known to become rather out of sorts in this condition. —er, your condition, captain? Dead drunk and blind with fear out of my mind. [he ponders for a moment, knowing that the mission could very well be their last.] Consider it done. Great. Get dressed, and meet me with the car out front in half an hour. Half an hour? Sharp. Bonus points for showing up early. We're earning points? We are now. Very well then. What am I wearing? Something sharp. Sharper than the inside of a half hour. On your mark. I'll—see you soon. He exits the captain's office, letting out a sigh of relief otherwise previously congested, he looks around as if not to be caught, regains his composure with the shake of his head, somewhat in disbelief of what he's witnessed. He casually places his hands in his pockets, walking down the hall and passing one of his crew mates, who quickly stops to salute him. Sergeant. Almost forgetting to salute back, mindlessly drifting passed in ‘off' mode, he slowly and squarely, almost still casually, salutes back. Oh. I had glimpsed at a picture of the man once more that had forced me to wonder— “Jesus Christ, is he okay?” It would be odd to think of a man who has spent a better part of the last two decades and most of his careers on camera as unphotogenic, then again—I had been tricked by the media before into thinking a certain way, and therefore was cautious, and still—I began to wonder about the man and his misery, and his mistresses—not out of jealousy or obsession, but simply because I knew he had them. He was old Hollywood, or old New York—or maybe a bit of both, and there was something about it all, perhaps even my own darkness, that danced with the flicker of sinful lust that motioned me towards not a yearning, or the act of doing so—I was at least wise enough to know nothing good could come from doing harm to oneself or another— but with the intensity of burning desire to know the man behind the mask—the actor inside the actor, to whom all the world's a stage. Whatever, though. Doesn't matter. At least I was still somehow youthfully resilient to what might have otherwise been torture, TVP S2- after Esha's promotion to head writer. DAEMON DALLAS, aka “DASH” is a quick witted, fast-talking comic powerhouse— his legendary stand up and acting career has made him a legendary force in movies, film, and television; he has been booked on the show to sit down with his longtime friend Patrick about his new stand up comedy tour. — Who's this beautiful sister. My head writer; don't even think about it. I dont think. I just do. Esha approaches— Dash politely bo s and kisses Esha's hand Should I get tested? —and funny. Against Patrick's wishes, Esha accepts a date with daemon dash, furious Patrick means to interrogate her Why would you even date that asshole Because—Pat. He's a comedian. I'm a comedian! So? So, he's funny. And? And he said things to me— What kind of things Charming, funny things— Okay? Things he wouldnt say to you over dinner— because, I'm —you're a woman. —and your head writer. So naturally. Esh, you're a genius, So is he. We have—some new material to work through. Ahq! Your monologue tonight. Oh yes. Oh yes. You can thank me later. Broken bottles. :9'd one stop her Walkin walking God knows I don't belong here And I don't want to Passover was April 21-30 Global War on Terrorism Aka WWIII Oh, indeed. Don't look left Take a deep breath My heart beats differently I think it might be the end I think it might be I think I might be the enemy The pushing mechanism When i breath him in I levitate And gravitate to what it meant The sake of the art, The hurt of the heart As sacred as it ever was The turning or the Torah talks of Gestures, since the fall of Rome The toga on the alter Solid hands unwrap us all From falling over Old and awkward No award for wisdom No rest for the wiser No love for the troll Since thunder struck from under us, Delivered all but what we wanted So we talk of karma sutra, Surely we can't talk at all Of what we know As once was bonded Laughed it off To come from what The call to us, Fair serve governors fortress I work up in mentions Carved the scarlet letter out of Cannons, of course MA. WHAT. I'm BUSY. ITS ON. The what? The show we watch! The one that— YES, Oh, my GOD. Yes. YESSSSSSSSS. Usnavi, get your popcorn This is some worth watching Up in arms for forwards Causing sore arms, Numb thumbs From crucifixes Are you wondering what God Would walk about the horned carving A kamazake walk of tall corn— Follow me, dear mantra Your whole house is watching. Sacre. It's happening again isn't it. I do want ice cream. All I need is a divorce And an Amazon woman 10 foot tall To rub me off at the stroke of Nevermind what the clock says In God's house they're all wrong The blsphomoous for Catholics Has begun, So strum your number into the teleprompter And just hope no one gets hurt By the hook on the next song —like the hook of my last surviving bra digs into my back does, Or the skin on my lack of tummy Has rubbed off under the suicide Of the cycle— It's getting tighter A loss of interest is equal to A loss of conciousness And I'm 21 days drunk On the alternate, though— I'm sober and feeling less Loved. The animal I've become is all cardio And karma sutra For karma comes To the weak of heart To use the world as swords To cause harm To the calm artists I thought I told you off once. (Already) You look awful. lol. You look terrible, broh. But my album sound fire. #producerholes [portal] It's coffee time!! It's not coffee time! It's not coffee time. Iiiiits coffee time. Damn. Where's the cat. Gestating. My phone was never the first thing I reached for in the morning—but I was sure there was something missing in my mind from a place in LA that I used to frequent, that sold giant frosted cookies that were also vegan. There was donut friend, which I always enjoyed and craved—but I was sure—absolutely sure that I was missing a m cookie, and it was absolutely driving me wild that I couldn't think of the place, or find it on Google. Has it been before turning vegan? Was my memory failing me in thinking that the cupcakes and donuts that I had often brought back to the hostel in boxes were timetimes cookies also? It seemed like there were cookies…and I'm sure that there were, as I could remember the thick frosting often being sweet and decadent enough to lick from the top, and that the bottom cookie was sweet and soft, and usually warm—and that I almost always couldn't finish the cookie in one sitting. Had this all been before I went vegan? I was sure I distinctly remembered sitting atop my bunk at The Freehand savoring this cookie, but a google search yeikded no results—none that I could find familiar, and it bothered me so much that I actually decided to start my day just on the tip of figuring out what it was was. As I crossed through my apartment, realizing I hadn't bothered to throw the trash out after mopping and went m directly to bed early, not with the consideration of rising early but really just out of exhaustion, I had decided that in order to get work done that my workouts would have to be pushed toward the end of my day, somewhere between still having the energy to manage and not being disturbed—as I had seen that girl to at I very specifically didn't like again m, I had realized that again, I was correct— even after an hour of working out, I simply didn't like her energy. There must have been something wrong with her—or incompatible about us altogether; she had come into the gym quietly and was sort of hiding and even still, I had instantly recognized that there was a foreign energy—and squinting to see her, saw that she was crouched on the other side of the gym. I dismounted the stationary bike and figured that an hour of cardio would be enough for the time. Strength training would only force me to crave protein—-and I was running low saving everything that I had in order to better strategize an arrangement which didn't leave me at the bottom of New York's merciless barrel. It seemed I wasn't going to get the job at Equinox after all—it had been nearly a week since my interview with them, and having not heard anything back, I realized that everything, no matter what—was always just a game. I needed to figure out how better to play it before my life ended abruptly on some sort of whim. Sitting down in the darkened bathroom, I realized that in order to restore and keep my energy, I should be unseen, and unheard. ‘Keep your head down.' I'm sure there was some type of code or rule for the way I should handle myself in public or even in private all well knowing the types of things I had writtten about, let alone which had been published—and while I planned to clear out what written works had made it into cyberspace unchecked, there was nothing less important to me than the actual world, what it expected of me, or who was in it. I hadn't entirely failed yet, but I also hadn't entirely succeeded, and after a strange series of dreams— almost all of them more interesting than the one with the cookie, (mentioning that the reason I had been curious about the cookie in the first place was from a strange series of dreams) “Ohhh, you know what—that might have actually been that place in Vegas, before I went vegan.” The boxes at the freehand must have been all from donut friend and Sprinkles—and it astonished me how much of a sweet tooth I actually had which was sort of now quite well managed. There was no sugar or even salt in the house— and with the lack of food that I actually had in my apartment, for at least something like the next two weeks, I was sure that I'd reach minimum weight—absolutely minimum weight— by the turn of the month. That is, all the weight I could lose betsides what needed to be surgically removed, and there was some sort of plan formulating somewhere outside of myself in exactly how that would be achieved. Because at any rate—I knew that it would. There were no more cookies, no more donuts, and no more cupcakes, besides the occasional box of the frozen type I had ordered from Amazon fresh which I did thoroughly enjoy, almost always in one sitting after a wild amount of cardio had implemented a faster metabolism and brought me to the realization that so much cardio meant that entirely that I could eat ‘whatever in the fuck I wanted' without gaining any weight or even losing it—and as I stepped up to take a shower, pulling my shirt up and over my chest, I inspected my abdomen, though holding bloat from pinto beans and deep fried sweet potatoes, still toned with the definition lines I had only just now learned that I had, creviced and notations of my sometimes 4 or 6 pack abs, though hidden under the sagging skin of my once maternal belly— still evident at all, and a factor of my minimal pride in that I had gone in one lifetime from one body and into many others— and one day, an even more drastically different one. I fantasized owning a peloton but realized that I may have to settle on a rental until I had outfitted myself with some sort of safety net. lol there's a sweet potato emoji. wtf. I don't know how you did this but— I woke up. Apparently, I'm Lorne Michaels. Please stop. I don't know what that means. You know what If I was pretty Nobody would hate me for anything I swear to God only ugly people are punished or any or all of our matings. I lost the ability to see worth in myself. I also lost the ability to write good songs. Just let me watch bad girls club And wait for the motorcycles To make my night A living hell “I didn't mean for this to happen, Jimmy Fallon. “ It was a whisper, actually— less than that, as I set the stone with the others above the amulet— I placed easch crystal carefully at the alter, keeping only two of them for myself; the rest, as guardians to the amulet. I could no longer keep such a relic around my neck; it had become quite heavy, and the dreams had become deep and more illusive, and it seemed there was some dark spirit along to it after all—and after all— the amulet was my only living son's, anyway, intended as a gift and charm of protection for when I next saw him—whenever that could be, or would be. It had been a long and interesting but altogether uneventful year, and now, not even feeling right in my own self, I intended to continue hiding, and perhaps even burrow further away until I was granted a full and proper divorce; my ex husband using his refusal to sign the papers as a final act of control, and though I almost found it admirable, I only became more dismissive of it—the person I was then, simply was no more; in fact, she was dead enough indeed that to disappear and become a ghost could do no worse than to further alter the course of time and distance it would take to ever become in such a way again—that is, if it were infinite, and for peace of mind and freedom of spirit and soul from bondsge, insisted it wasn't. It was less than a whisper enough that none other besides God could have heard it, and yet it seemed something or someone had—as a door quickly slammed as the words—words which meant a name I was sure I would never say again—“Jimmy Fallon” left my mouth. I couldn't come close to words at all let alone a name, and especially not a song; but then, of course, there was The Book of Knowlege never to have been spoken and as always, the ever moving truth of songs— There were other Gods that new no words at all besides the melodies and rhythms of our hearts—and there never really was every truly a Jimmy Fallon at all— Only myself. Whatever the fuck. Alright, alright. It was next in the que with purpose, probably but quite on accident— Now I could continue in my pattern of dulling my brain for the remainder of the night as I had been all day. Since March I had seemed to cry what I thought were the rest of my tears, and however, after a particularly mind numbing day of trash television and Olympic surfing, it seemed the ocean alone was enough to pull from what was left of my soul, and as it turned out, it still was there. I was bored of the brokenness of New York—something like living in a rotten and spoiled toy, with the limits I had been given—and though I should have been happy, to finally just have my own place— the people surrounding, as always, ruined it— Them being myself aside. I wished the things outside of me were quieter. Now I could finally almost put my mind out of focus for just a little bit longer—and creep on Johnny Depp without doing it intentionally. I had stopped looking up famous people, besides some women and businessmen I knew could never feign my interest anyway. It was never about money— and always about creative intelligence; I hadn't seen the movie as an adult, and so I was sure it would have some insight to offer. I tried to forget that I had aged out of almost everything—and that my mother had so greedily destroyed any real chance I had at becoming what I might have been with anybody else as a mother—or at least some one around to watch her raise me and correct her damaging actions, words, and harsh thoughts. At least she had taught me to read and write—and if worst actually came to worse—which it was starting to look like—how to trade my body and time in exchange for things I wanted and needed. All women were nearly prostitutes in some way, anyhow—and the only thing deterring me from it was on every honest God I ever thought of, the fact that white women made more in sex work than colored women did. — it almost hurt to watch Olympic surfing. Actually, it did. It hurt, a lot. What's a girl Have you ever had a girl before? What's world when you're wound up in an orphanage Probably astounding I've got a shadow Sad, should have danced with him Now he's so mad that —I don't even touch my guitar No more I have words No songs The whole world's At war And to surf — you need water I love New York But hate Thus corner of Brooklyn I want to go up Testosterone —I've got a word for the goner “Gonzo” I've got a cannon Or blonde, for reference Why were all stalkers I'll book The Tonight Show, I'll summon up Carson A , I promise— A good time was had —I promise, no subtle obsession. I made a decision, I went with it Just a protagonist, actor— A comic Producer, by marriage I swear, It's just adding up evidence If ever gets intensities Offensive, this illumination — I don't doubt you. I want chocolate milk What even is that? I've been eating healthy I've got half an album out And half inside my head With Donnie Brasco I've got half a million dollars somewhere Stuffed inside my cunt, I think With hallmark cards and shopping carts I owe them half a fortune I hate it so much I watch a whole soul Come out if television I love it so much But I hate the whole public And crowding I don't want love I want fucks I want puppies —Jesus he's beautiful My ex husband had similar facial structure to Mr Depp respectively, I'm guessing my artistry, Intention, A preteen obsession at least sort of paid off. Somehow. Now it's my eyes on the other, the older — The way that he sits and does nothing but slump —Al Pacino, they call him? The false father and forced profits often acknowledged The love of the old and weathered. For once I woke up to a record 33 rotations a minute {Enter The Multiverse} —what are you gonna do? Blondes and shit. The best of the best— —I'll tell ya, I recommend it (Recommended by a Friend) I have a headache twice my age. I made a mistake half my life ago Woke up this morning Bought myself a gun To make it right {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] The Complex Collective. © COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019 | 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © {Rewind}

Nate and Thomas joined our friend Chris Mathieu for a fun filled conversation. --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/realityczars/support

In this episode we begin our revisit of the 4 part series for laying the foundation to the fundamentals of marksmanship! Part 1: The set up! It is where everything starts and where many things go wrong introducing error into the shot before you even get on the rifle to pull the trigger. Want to improve your shooting instantly? Pay attention to the small details that matter and it all starts here.   Wolf Pack Training Center Patreon Membership and Support - Patreon Membership Wolf Precision Custom Rifles.  www.wolfprecision.net Online Long Range Shooting School.  https://www.wolfprecision.net/online-long-range-shooting-school.html

We go live to New York to chat to our entertainment reporter Nicole:  Hanging out with Chris Martin, Halsey, and Katy Perry! Oasis reunion won't last... How much insurance on the show? Taylor and Travis contract... Real or Fake? See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Missouri Times publisher Scott Faughn gives us his final predictions on the statewide races and voter turnout for tomorrow's primary. JCMO Mayor Ron Fitzwater updates us on the city's happenings and we cover a viral fail from a French Olympian.

Transformation Tip: “Learning is the only thing the mind never exhausts, never fears, and never regrets." — Leonardo da VinciThis week's talent: LearnerIntrinsic needs:Must always be learningOpportunities to share new knowledgeFreedom to learn in areas that are of interest Potential blindspots:You place a high value on learning and studying and may tend to impose this value on others. You love the process of learning so much that the outcome might not matter to you. Transformation Application: If you learned something new this week, go tell someone about it.  But make sure you do it in a way that they understand.Connect On Social: Podcast Facebook Page Steve Facebook Steve Instagram Steve LinkedIn Pete Facebook Pete Instagram Pete LinkedIn

Like the show? Have a burning question? Send a text?Thermodemand, founded by Irapua Santos Ribeiro, is a consultancy focused on sustainable energy solutions for industrial applications, particularly in solar and renewable process heat technologies.His company aims to help industrial clients reduce their carbon footprint and operational costs. Ira has started the business as a sole proprietorship, but plans to expand by forging strategic partnerships and delivering innovative, high-quality services worldwide.Irapua an impressive professional background in renewable energy. He earned degrees in Mechanical Engineering, an MBA in Business and Project Management, and a European Master in Renewable Energy, specializing in Solar Thermal Energy.He's also the father of twins (two little girls) and sports enthusiast who also writes on his free time about life related subjects.In this episode we talked about:

Harmonics and Cymatics Part 1Mark, Pam, and Jessica http://whatiftomorrowmedia.comE-mail: whatiftomorrowpc@gmail.comSEK Bordertown Paranormal website: https://bordertownparanormal.com/SEK Bordertown Paranormal Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/BordertownParanormalYouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCCy7z_FJDCQe-3aggqN4sXwWhat If Tomorrow Podcast Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/319093512581881What If Tomorrow Media Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/What-If-Tomorrow-Media-105448004842730Locals: https://www.locals.com/member/What_If_TomorrowInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/whatiftomorrowmedia/EMP Shield: https://EMPshield.com/whatifMy Patriot Supply: https://mypatriotsupply.com/?rfsn=5155718.b8ac05Duke Cannon: https://dukecannon.com/?rfsn=5441344.1e5827&utm_source=refersion&utm_medium=affiliate&utm_campaign=5441344.1e5827Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/on-the-fringe--5108874/support.

Sarah Pepper is in her final two days with Mix 96.5 and in the hot seat for Jessie's College of Hollywood Knowledge. Jessie is asking the questions this week and you're playing for Sarah's money. How did it go today? 

The prosecutors are taking special delight in using TRUMP'S own quotes from his books about KNOWING EVERY DETAIL ABOUT HIS COMPANY down to his penny-pinching, & paper clip counting, to prove that Michael Cohen got fraudulently repaid for paying Stormy Daniels WITH TRUMP's KNOWLEGE and CONSENT. Michael Popok breaks down the testimony to the jury of Random House executive managing editor Sally Franklin in front of an increasingly frustrated Trump. Americans United will keep fighting for freedom without favor - equality without exception. Keep up with this issue at Https://au.org/legalaf Visit https://meidastouch.com for more! Join us on Patreon: https://patreon.com/legalaf Remember to subscribe to ALL the MeidasTouch Network Podcasts: MeidasTouch: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/meidastouch-podcast Legal AF: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/legal-af The PoliticsGirl Podcast: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/the-politicsgirl-podcast The Influence Continuum: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/the-influence-continuum-with-dr-steven-hassan Mea Culpa with Michael Cohen: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/mea-culpa-with-michael-cohen The Weekend Show: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/the-weekend-show Burn the Boats: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/burn-the-boats Majority 54: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/majority-54 Political Beatdown: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/political-beatdown Lights On with Jessica Denson: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/lights-on-with-jessica-denson On Democracy with FP Wellman: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/on-democracy-with-fpwellman Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In this episode Dr. Molly & Todd speak with industry professionals Patsy Tallant and Scott Woods, co-founders of The Grooming Loop. We discuss the history of The Million Dollar Mobile, The Grooming Loop, why correct insurance is important, the pros/cons of different types of mobile units and being prepared, why groomers shouldn't just jump into mobile, the WagnTails Clean Power System, and more! Click the links below for more information.(6) Facebook The Pawcast(6) The Grooming Loop LLC | Facebook

One more game of General Knowledge Trivia to keep you on your toes and your eyes on the road. For details on the Thelma And Louise re-creation Road trip check out our youtube channel https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yLw_YPtqjpoOr Facebook group:https://www.facebook.com/groups/winosandbigcheese

In this podcast, AJ Wallace and ChrisyLite review The Book of Clarence, and more. Like, comment, share, and subscribe!!! #StayGeeked ⁠⁠https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCTHs9WUL0wLGhhZWZyKfEtg⁠⁠ Watch the show LIVE ⬇ ⁠⁠https://www.twitch.tv/whyimgeeked⁠ ⁠⁠⁠Follow AJ @ajwallacereviews & ⁠⁠https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCwWGDgNoLi2C24I7ATX483g⁠⁠ Follow Chris @ChrisyLiteTV & ⁠⁠https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCw3uUgFydUURkWWaN4UeTmg

Preached at The Anagkazo Alumni Homecoming 2023. 8th December, 2023.

Preached at The Anagkazo Alumni Homecoming 2023. 8th December, 2023.

Would you like to be 'better than before'? I think for many of us this is the appeal  of an alcohol-free life; we want our circumstances to improve.  Today, I share the work of Gretchen Rubin who wrote the book, Better Than Before. This book is about habits but most importantly it's about knowing oneself better than before. Rubin makes a convincing point that in order to establish habits that last, we must build habits that are based on who we are now. I agree - when we try to adopt the habits of someone else, we often find it difficult. If we start with self-knowledge we are much more likely to succeed in creating lasting change.  In the podcast today, I share the Habit Manifesto that Rubin created and also offer real life examples of where these principles can help us create an alcohol-free life, and do it with more ease! THANK YOU! This is gratitude season and I want to share how grateful I am for all of you and your support. As a gift, you are invited to join The Sober Edge Book Club (women only) for free for the month of December.  Show Notes Book Club Offer and Code

Knowlege is power!See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

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Need the A to Z simplified blueprint to activate growth or accelerate the scalability of your business? This masterclass episode is for you! With Benjamin Shaprio of the MarTech Podcast as the question conductor for this episode, we navigate a series of questions to help develop a mindset mapping and growth strategy, all while using my frameworks and methodologies to help you achieve sustainable and scalable growth.The formula for achieving scalability is "Automation + Activation = Accumulation."This masterclass episode is broken down into three sections that first define and expound on growth vs scaling and how we achieve both efficiently regardless of the type of business or industry you're in. Then we navigate to the four currencies to leverage to achieve growth and accelerate your scalability. Lastly, we discuss my 6 I's to a sustainable business and how it is a great tool in your arsenal to approach building a successful business holistically.Did you love this style of episode? Tag me on social media (@FindTroy) and let me know, and don't forget to send me questions to  answer  on the show or cover them in another masterclass episode. Want to hear more? You can listen to the full three episodes of my interview with Benjamin Shapiro on the MarTech Podcast:•  Part 1 - Growing vs Scaling•  Part 2 - Four Currencies Businesses Need To Scale•  Part 3 - The 6 I's To Sustainable Growth Beyond The Episode Gems:Discover All of the Podcats on the HubSpot Podcast NetworkGet Free HubSpot Marketing Tools To Help You Grow Your Business Grow Your Business Faster Using HubSpot's CRM PlatformBook A Time To Hire Me To Help You Scale Your Business#####Support The Podcast & Connect With Troy: • Rate & Review iDigress: iDigress.fm/Reviews•  Follow Troy's LinkedIn @FindTroy• Get Strategy Solutions & Services: FindTroy.com•  Buy Troy's Book, Strategize Up: StrategizeUpBook.com•  Follow Troy's Instagram @FindTroy

 The Quran Simplified # 28 | Al-Baqarah 2:31-33 | The Story of our creation | The knowlege "˹And He taught Adam the names - all of them. Then He showed them to the angels and said, "Inform Me of the names of these, if you are truthful." They said, "Exalted are You; we have no knowledge except what You have taught us. Indeed, it is You who is the Knowing, the Wise." He said, "O Adam, inform them of their names." And when he had informed them of their names, He said, "Did I not tell you that I know the unseen [aspects] of the heavens and the earth? And I know what you reveal and what you have concealed." #quran #tafsir #albaqarah #islam

In today's episode, Confluence takes a look inward, specifically at Confluence's education programming in schools. Today, we'll hear from h three of those educators about what they do with students and why, including Emma Johnson, a Cowlitz Tribal member and recently earned her masters of science in cultural anthropology from Portland State University. Her interests include tribal food sovereignty and traditional ecological and cultural knowledge. We'll also hear from Christine and Clifton Bruno who have been sharing the Indigenous culture of the Pacific Northwest for more than 25 years. Clifton is a member of the Confederated Tribes of Warm Springs and Christine is Comache, Basque and Irish. The two of them work with schools, parks, land restoration projects and nonprofit organizations like Confluence and the Native Gathering Garden at Cully Park in Portland.

It's an emotional farewell as Greg Gately signs off and says goodbye to our show. Bryan Lee joins us again as we declassify Disney secrets and spill the beans. We play Disney's College of Knowlege and break news on Ahsoka, Agrabah comes to NYC, and changes to Disney Park hours. We invite you to live your best Disney life and check out our latest podcast episode.“Don't forget to book your next magical vacation with our preferred travel partner, Sara Solberg! Email her at sarasolberg@d2travel.com for more info”If you've dreamt of living near the magic of Disney World Victor Nawrocki can find the home for you. You can search home, watch youtube videos or contact Victor by visiting disneyatyourdoorstep.com

by Harold Hancock

On today's show, we're celebrating our stay on the Halcyon by pitching our ideas for an immersive Disney Hotel experience; We're talking Disney News First Takes and Playing the Disney College of Knowlege.Submit your answers to the college of knowledge in a DM to @Dislifepodcast on Instagram to enter. --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/dislife-podcast/support

After spending years researching and teaching behavioral economics and household finance at Harvard University, the University of Pennsylvania Wharton School and the University of Chicago, Brigitte C. Madrian accepted a position as the ninth dean of the Marriott School of Business at Brigham Young University. She brings a wealth of knowledge and expertise to this episode of the Church News podcast, discussing the importance of faith-based education, ethics and empathy in economics and business, and the positive influence of BYU.  The Church News Podcast is a weekly podcast that invites listeners to make a journey of connection with members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints across the globe. Host Sarah Jane Weaver, reporter and editor for The Church News for a quarter-century, shares a unique view of the stories, events, and most important people who form this international faith. With each episode, listeners are asked to embark on a journey to learn from one another and ponder, “What do I know now?” because of the experience. Produced by KellieAnn Halvorsen.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

This podcast is sponsored by Amirison Financial. Our goal is to help the culture build Wealth Assets Prosperity. We appreciate you taking the time to listen to this episode and share the content if you find value.

Bruce and Lee Ammerman tag team the teaching. Teaching notes: https://thebarnvineyard-teaching-material.s3.amazonaws.com/Words_of_knowledgePt1.pdf

On today's show, we're celebrating our stay on the Halcyon by pitching our ideas for an immersive Disney Hotel experience; We're talking Disney News First Takes and Playing the Disney College of Knowlege.Submit your answers to the college of knowledge in a DM to @Dislifepodcast on Instagram to enter.

Donna struggles decorating her Christmas tree, the team discusses what movie they want to see together, and we play the COPCK!

Andy Farnsworth joins KSL-TV to help audiences decipher #WhatToWatch for the weekend of September 9, 2022. Andy's favorite steaming show is back on Netflix for season 5 and already is a big hit. The cast of Cobra Kai is back ( Part of them are coming to FanX Salt Lake Comic Convention 2022 just around the corner!), and Andy has already binged the whole season; it's that watchable! Over on DisneyPlus, the latest live-action/CGI remake came out for DisneyPlus Day and is uplifting some audiences. “Pinnochio” stars Tom Hanks as Geppetto, Joseph Gordon-Levitt expertly voices Jiminy Cricket, and the wooden boy himself is voiced by newcomer Benjamin Evan Ainsworth. Also on DisneyPlus the “Cars on the Road,” shorts with a stop at a familiar local attraction by Lightning McQueen and Tow Mater. And on a more solemn note, “The Anthrax Attack” documentary/feature movie on Netflix will remind you of and educate you about the OTHER attack that happened in the U.S. back in September 2001. Andy and KSLtv's Dan Spindle also remind listeners not just to visit FanX to see the Cobra Kai cast members, but to join them for a live Fan Effect Podcast recording at their panel Saturday, Sept 24th at 3 pm in room 251A. Join Andy, Dan, producer KellieAnn, and Fan Effect friend Natalie Mollinet as they discuss “What draws us to our favorite fandoms?”  Beyond Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Gaming and Tech, the brains behind Fan Effect are connoisseurs of categories surpassing the nerdy. Brilliant opinions and commentary on all things geek, but surprising knowledge and witty arguments over pop culture, Star Trek, MARVEL vs DC, and a wide range of movies, TV shows, and more. Formerly known as SLC Fanboys, the show is hosted by Andy Farnsworth and KellieAnn Halvorsen, who are joined by guest experts. Based in the beautiful beehive state, Fan Effect celebrates Utah's unique fan-culture as it has been declared The Nerdiest State in America by TIME.    Listen regularly on your favorite platform, at kslnewsradio.com, or on the KSL App. Join the conversation on Facebook @FanEffectShow, Instagram @FanEffectShow, and Twitter @FanEffectShow. Fan Effect is sponsored by Megaplex Theatres, Utah's premiere movie entertainment company. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Today's series where I discuss the stalkers who have been relentlessly harassing me. I share personal stories and more! Happy Fourth of July !!    Instagram @ 0osadsquirello0 my second meme account 

Rob is a guest on the Knowledge Exchange podcast talking about misconnections and what good quality care looks like He discusses the power of the words and language used by practitioners and explains why he is an advocate for clear and simple communication with patients. Practitioners need to understand where patients are coming from and acknowledge their beliefs working with them to support them in achieving their goals. Being a high-level communicator and sharing strengths is crucial for success for any practitioner who is working with patients   KEY TAKEAWAYS MRIs are a valuable tool the challenges are in the reporting An MRI shows everything, they need to be explained carefully and used in conjunction with your medical history and consultation Posture is ingrained in our culture but can be misunderstood The problem isn't the position you sit in it's the movement you make Postural devices don't help with posture Communication is key and we always want to communicate with patients in a clear and easily understood way A summary at the end of consultation can really help to make sure the patient leaves with the right information and understanding Acknowledge the patient's beliefs and work with them to change the narrative Building trust with the patient and understanding their goals and beliefs is crucial As healthcare professionals, we have a responsibility to make sure we are sharing correct and factual information We have the opportunity to educate and inform people, we are primarily patient-facing and want to put out clear simple information for people We want patients to know what to expect when they meet with their healthcare practitioner Having groups means we can understand more about what people are going through and is the opportunity to share and signpost potential support Passive care is when something is done to the patient and active care is something the patient does for themselves    BEST MOMENTS ‘MRIs don't cause back pain, it's about the reporting ‘For patients, it's their story' ‘You have to meet patients where they are at and begin from there'   THE BACK PAIN PODCAST PROVIDER MAP - FINDING SOMEONE TO HELP YOU WITH YOUR BACK PAIN https://thebackpainpodcast.com/index.php/members-map/   VALUABLE RESOURCES The Back Pain Podcast The Back Pain Podcast website The Back Pain Podcast recommended products affiliate link Our Rode Mixer https://amzn.to/3waU8bx Our Microphones https://amzn.to/3rzSZ9Z Second Microphone https://amzn.to/2ObKMeA XLR Cable https://amzn.to/3rBL8ZB Studio Headphones https://amzn.to/3u082LE Laptophttps://amzn.to/3dhfafT Our webcam https://amzn.to/31uUefQ    RESOURCES FOR THIS EPISODE The Knowledge Exchange Podcast    ABOUT THE HOSTS Dave Elliott Dave is the owner of Advanced Chiropractic, a chain of Chiropractic and massage therapy clinics in Essex, UK. Dave still sees patients during the week but has been working hard to talk to as many experts in the field of back pain as possible to help distil all the information and bring it to you in this awesome podcast. You can find Dave on any of the Advanced Chiropractic social media platforms, or you can contact him at hello@thebackpainpodcast.com   if you have any questions for him. -Instagram    Rob Beaven Rob owns and runs a multidisciplinary clinic, The Dyer St Clinic in Cirencester Gloucestershire. His team of Chiropractors, Physiotherapists, Osteopaths, Doctors, and podiatrists all collaborate on thousands of back pain patients every year. Alongside Dave, he has worked hard to bring to the table experts across all industries to give you the low down on back pain, with steps you can implement today to start feeling better. -Instagram -Twitter   SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS Instagram Twitter Facebook   CONTACT US hello@thebackpainpodcast.com     Support the show: https://thebackpainpodcast.com See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Psalms 119:157 Many are my persecutors and mine enemies; yet do I not decline from thy testimonies. The Knowledge anointing of the letter Resh, Great enemies that dog us - But God, through His testimonies time and again has saved His Bride - My story along those lines

You deserve to be the Hand Therapy Expert in your community!!I explain five reasons why online Hand Therapy Mentorship and can help develop your skills as and occupational therapists. 00:29 Hand Therapy Mentorship vs Courses01:18 Delivery and Information of Hand Therapy02:43 Applying What you Learn In Hand Therapy03:24 Gaining Knowledge and Various Topics in Hand Therapy05:13 Engagement , Support & Community in Hand Therapy07:10 Gaining Experience and Knowlege in Hand Therapy07:34 Its Easy and Fun, The Eaze of doing a Mentorship Program Online. Watch it on YouTube here. https://youtu.be/5P8oa9FPT6k

You have a part to play! Join us as we look at three gifts in particular: Wisdom, Knowledge, and Faith!

You have a part to play! Join us as we look at three gifts in particular: Wisdom, Knowledge, and Faith!

In this essay, Marlin reflects on topics ranging from chickens, to schooling, to church life. "Philosophizing about knowing (i.e. epistemology) may seem arcane or excessively technical. However, what increasingly strikes me is that our mindset toward knowing and the way we think about knowledge ties into our overall stance toward life. Whether or not we study formal epistemology, we all have a functional epistemology: our conception of what knowing is, our ideas about what (and who!) it is worthwhile to know, and ideas about how we can gain knowledge."

On this episode we have a Serial Entrepreneur who has grown his net-worth to over 3Million. Has about 5 six figure businesses, with 2.7Million worth of Crypto and Stock Assets. He Discusses the issues faced n his entrepreneurial journey and how he dealt with them. He talks about his transition from a regular teenager to a Successful Entrepreneur. There is a bonus tip at the end of this episode where he suggests the best way to invest $1000 if you are starting out as an entrepreneur. So many more Million dollar gems were dropped in this episode, its up to you if you would want to pick them up. Check out his Instagram @ayehxncho Link to his Books, The Million Dollar Mindset: The Life Changing Power Of A Wealthy Mind: https://amzn.to/3hYEkSK 10 Keys to Financial Freedom: https://amzn.to/2TT6w1A Escaping from the 9-5 Trap: https://amzn.to/3hwHq1s Prestige University: https://beacons.page/ayehxncho