Podcasts about Quake

A biography that dares to ask: Is a lifetime of worker abuse and narcissism worth it to experience robot butlers?Where to find us: Our PatreonOur merch!Peter's newsletterPeter's other podcast, 5-4Mike's other podcast, Maintenance PhaseSources:What Elon Musk Gets Wrong about South AfricaElon Musk's Anti-Semitic, Apartheid-Loving Grandfather Elon Musk claims he was once one of the best Quake players aroundWatch Elon Musk Talk About Being an ‘Illegal Immigrant' in Video From 2013 Elon Musk's dad Errol says he can ‘prove' existence of emerald mine in new bombshell claim revealing its location How Elon Musk Went from Superhero to Supervillain The BelieverElon Musk: The Architect of Tomorrow How Elon Musk Plans on Reinventing the World (and Mars)Tesla factory workers reveal pain, injury and stress: 'Everything feels like the future but us' | TeslaHundreds of Tesla workers tested positive for the virus after Elon Musk reopened a plant, data showsInside Tesla as Elon Musk Pushed an Unflinching Vision for Self-Driving Cars Tesla video promoting self-driving was staged, engineer testifiesElon Musk Says His 'Running Robot' Will 'Actually Eliminate Poverty' As He Shares Video Of Tesla Optimus Jogging Elon Musk Wants ‘Strong Influence' Over the ‘Robot Army' He's Building There's a Very Simple Pattern to Elon Musk's Broken PromisesThanks to Mindseye for our theme song!

DONATE TO FEED AMERICA HERE: https://teamfeed.feedingamerica.org/teams/PodcastersFightHunger Esports may seem like a wild, new phenomenon, but the story of competitive gaming starts in 1972. Sure, they weren't filling arenas or handing out scholarships 50 years ago, but these proto-esports paved the way for the modern industry. From the first women to be called "professional gamers," to the release of Quake in 1996, to the rise and fall of the Overwatch League, strap in for the story of modern esports! You can commission your own FLAVOR TEXT right now! If you want us to breakdown your favorite, niche IP, head over to patreon.com/debatethiscast! Recommended Reading: Debate This! FLAVOR TEXT: The Console Wars Debate This! FLAVOR TEXT: Emesis Blue Rolling Stone "SPACEWAR" Gremlin Girls Amusment Players Association PDF Thresh Quake Run at Red Annihilation Original Team Liquid news blog Evo Moment #37 Newzoo Esports Audience Report Modern MBA "The Crooked Economics of Esports" Have you seen our Instagram? instagram.com/debatethiscast Have you seen our Threads? threads.net/debatethiscast Want to send us an email? debatethiscast@gmail.com Music for Debate This! is provided by composer Ozzed under a creative commons license. Check out more of their 8-bit bops at www.ozzed.net!

Quake discusses Snoop Dogg responding to Daz Dillinger's constant disrespect, 50 Cent saying his Baby Mama would've been in his Netflix documentary cause she's a “hoe”, Diddy's Netflix documentary breakdown / review and much more.(00:00) - Intro(00:48) - Snoop Dogg Responds To Daz Dillinger's Constant Disrespect(07:24) - 50 Cent Says His Baby Mama Would've Been In His Netflix Documentary Cause She's A “Hoe”(17:46) - Diddy Netflix Documentary Breakdown / Review(48:04) - Billboard Hot 100

Quake discusses Keefe D's 2Pac murder trial getting delayed due to overwhelming evidence, Cam'ron being blocked from receiving potential payout in J. Cole lawsuit, Diddy paying off $500K Federal fine amid prison stay, jail informant claiming Lil Durk's alleged hitman confessed to muder-for-hire plot, Dame Dash calling out 50 Cent for “tearing down” Diddy via documentary, The Game saying the current state of Hip-Hop is trash, Max B performing Jim Jones diss track, Mike Dean dragging Timbaland for supporting A.I. music and much more.(00:00) - Intro(09:05) - Keefe D's 2Pac Murder Trial Delayed Due To Overwhelming Evidence(12:07) - Cam'ron Blocked From Receiving Potential Payout In J. Cole Lawsuit(15:14) - Diddy Pays Off $500K Federal Fine Amid Prison Stay(17:24) - Jail Informant Claims Lil Durk's Alleged Hitman Confessed To Muder-For-Hire Plot(20:28) - Kevin Liles Wins Dismissal Of Sexual Assault Lawsuit(27:20) - Dame Dash Calls Out 50 Cent For “Tearing Down” Diddy Via Documentary(31:47) - The Game Says Current State Of Hip-Hop Is Trash And Gets Called Out For Lying About Wanting To Sign Kendrick Lamar(42:49) - Max B Performs Jim Jones Diss Track And Then Says He Didn't Approve Of It During Show(49:31) - Mike Dean Drags Timbaland For Supporting A.I. Music(53:02) - Major Labels Reportedly Pressuring Streaming Platforms To Raise Prices(01:00:36) - New Music(01:01:01) - Album Sales

Quake discusses judge ordering the sale of Nicki Minaj's home over unpaid judgment, Nicki Minaj scoring huge win amid court battle with ex-superfan, Lil Yachty explaining why Eminem dissing him was amazing, T-Pain slamming DJ Khaled in fiery rant about loyalty, Kendrick Lamar's stan pages getting exposed, 50 Cent teasing his new Netflix documentary about Diddy, Travis Scott's “Circus Maximus Tour” making history and much more.(00:00) - Intro(05:01) - Judge To Order Sale Of Nicki Minaj's Home Over Unpaid Judgment(10:52) - Nicki Minaj Scores Huge Win Amid Court Battle With Ex-Superfan(14:06) - Lil Yachty Explains Why Eminem Dissing Him Was Amazing(24:52) - T-Pain Slams DJ Khaled In Fiery Rant About Loyalty(29:57) - Kendrick Lamar Stan Pages Get Exposed From Being In Other Countries(38:57) - 50 Cent Teases His New Netflix Documentary About Diddy(43:51) - Travis Scott's “Circus Maximus Tour” Made History With Its Sales(54:22) - Billboard Hot 100

Quake discusses 6IX9INE's sentencing delay getting approved by judge, Lil Durk's trial derailing by leaked courtroom photo of codefendants, Eminem hitting Australian brand with lawsuit, Ja Rule getting attacked in New York, Complex's Top 25 Albums Of The Centuries list and much more.(00:00) - Intro(11:24) - 6IX9INE Gets Sentencing Delayed Approved By Judge(13:26) - Lil Durk Trial Detrailed By Leaked Courtroom Photo Of Codefendants(18:44) - Eminem Hits Australian Brand With Lawsuit(22:23) - Ja Rule Gets Attacked In New York, Goes Live To Address It(42:29) - Quake Talks About Complex's Top 25 Albums Of The Centuries List(55:29) - New Music(56:11) - Album Sales

Don't you see, sensei I'm just as disappointed in myself And ready to die Just as I relay the message, Spray me with your morbid essence Don't, croak, you fool, You've only a spoon ful of sugar left to go The dose is coming up your throat, — you didn't know to throw up Grab the rope and go up Before gravity has crushed your —thought: Stupid boy, you don't want to die— Nor to do, but oh, do we have it coming Silly mortal, overlords and governed, Short of morals, steady coming at your doorstep So goes our concert! And so goes our concept for divorce, And sure of course, Your four corse meal, and/or dessert This is just devastating, genetics made me The sort at sorting words, but surfing, Sure. Ever temporarily the cadence changes, Still they say “you've been betrayed” But never had a friend I made made As good as death and God have been to me For everything you're meant to be, Plus everything you're meant to me, I go, unwanted, troubled and disgusted at my own immortal outcome. Sure. My back hurts and I'm wounded, Heartbroke, Thrust in every cardinal direction Also, honored at the mark of magic wand Upon her shoulder; And so, Just as soon as the sun and moon, Does the fire escape set a perfect path For outward destruction of the bricks and mortar Or your alter (This we talk about, to some effect Is your repression and affective form of supernatural perfection) But forget the makeup; I can make you up to be a star And not of wars and other worlds, But those that come before us, Carson, and the others Paar before that. But, I think not dear sir How wrong you are, A wretched bird, Set not to fly, but O father Wit and relay messages, The passage said, and set to clocks, The past was won and so the future altered, But dear feathered father, Mortal you are not But just another triumph Of my god; And set the mirror to the magnets Camera, lights and action, Magic— All the signs of the dawn, and the mad don Red Dawn came upon us, called the Red Man Tom, from other, over, under Still was my mistake to mumble such Or put upon the tongue As such assumption Still— wonder? Bird, shut up; Love I dusk And lust I soak In all the frittered dust and feathers, Colors, coming up as mister Chuck and wood, and wait and ponder Slithered this to wonder, not a rock, But potted fern, Asunder Thunderstorm And wicked rain And fair the back A tide had come And sitting there upon the shore, Was us, and 12 apostles She's a Brick— Seemingly out of nowhere, A RED BRICK HOUSE falls very perfectly from the SKY and into OZ. oh good, my house is here. House. [the festival project ™] But I don't want to make house! Then play it! I don't want to play house it is BORING. You play it— they want it. But I don't want it. Then forget it! What! Listen kid, a job's a job! {Enter The Multiverse} Wrong, this is wrong— everything is wrong. What's wrong, Rob? I'll be back. ROB LOWE has just played TRUTH OR DARE L E G E N D S if I could get inside your head For just a second Bread and butter Heaven, hell, And other places I have wandered But oh, wonder This is never what I wanted, Was it? No sir. Sure, I set you off, No sooner had you got a gun and shot me. Handsome fucker. I'll bet. Wrong act. Wrong award show. Wrong hat and a baseball bat, Peanut butter and a nice cold cheesecake, Don't forget to order cheesesteak For your cat. A carnivore at odds with the other worlds, And also fused to us; This drifting back and forth Between the Rock And Hollywood Has got to stop. ((The world is toxic.)) the legend of… L. JONES It's you! BLŪ AH, crap. L. JONES Listen, I got something for you. BLŪ Where did your bird go? L.JONES What bird? CUT TO: Now open that. No wait! It's a trap! THE VAULT inside THE CRYPT at 30 ROCK has been opened. I keep looking down at my phone As if I'm expecting a phone call Or incoming message from God But the worlds to a song Are all jumbled up in my Concious I don't want to talk about it I feel Nauseous Everyone is being obnoxious Even my own blood I don't want to function I just want some French toast crunch For lunch Nostalgia I got a whole inch taller on the peloton Holla Now I got a body, Broader, So close to Broadway But I never go there That's a tall order Of “gotta have money” I mean live theatre It's fine I'll eat here And repeat these things till they just rhyme Line them all up like a context, Story Someday I'm gonna cut my own check Watch me lol none of this rhymes without a hard Brooklyn accent ; Guess you can't hack it! Send you ass packin! I said “That's whack son!” Then I went back blonde Now they want Backend, Contract, Off the top, Royalties Residuals I'm an individual with insidious syntax And yet I'm ridiculed Truly I'm a tit-for-tat Or particle of all you are Circular centrifuge, I trickle down your tentacles (Eugh) Choke the chicken just to give the cat a chicken bowl, Chick fil et and pret a tair just to get a ritual Espresso and a quick snack So I can get my dick wrapped In chocolate and licorice because the shit is edible Damn that I guess they set a damn trap By putting out the welcome mat, Then strapping Like a mothafuckin' straight jacket Matter fact, I look a nap in it, Then magic tricked the slip effective Compliments of Michael Jackson Or was it tech nine? Maybe I should get my Mind right I lost it once I guess I've better find it If I am, in fact, A diamond in the rough It's probably blooded it up enough That you should dig it up and shine it; Better yet, Somebody outta pick it up And sign it, Cause I write enough To put a vision To a blind man It's Fran Fine, man I'm behind, man The shadowgov had put me on a diet My bad I noticed that they tried to shut me up But couldn't stop the words or other stuff That just keeps coming out of my head I put coconuts as butter onto my bread And thinking thoughts of Carl cox As I drift off in my bed, I said, “It shouldn't be a problem, officer” As I reached for the gun And he aimed it at my death. That's an impossible apocalyptic suicide— Did you invite the devil in? I said “Nah, but that guy did.” The problem is, I pointed over yonder to a ghost Who also knows that I'm a well respected psychic; Nevermind a sidekick, side bitch in a sidecar, Psych ward, Sike! We spike war on your kind! So far, If I make history tonight, The other side decides their psalm is just as likely The third reike. Okay, strike one: I'm gonna turn your lights off. Strike two : you do and say what I do: Strike three: we're gonna make you suicidal I specialize in denying rights for high profits But big brother, or boss— What if my glove fits? The instance it does, We lock you up with no service, Your world becomes dark And your words become worthless Oh shit. This is not a good rap song. Like, at all. I must say, I do agree, You lose your trust, but silently Denied is all your trouble, Till it just begins to bubble up Until the cookie crumbles— See that feeling in your stomach? This is bigger than the money, girl — They want your soul, and then the world! I told you never call him. I didn't! Then explain this: [Skrillex] *sharp inward sigh* CUT IMMIDIATLEH TO STAN You know what! That's it! I don't care how handsome or rich and famous he is! This has to stop! KYLE Hey, wait just a minute— STAN SHUT UP KYLE. KYLE You shut up! STAN You're starting to sound just like him! KYLE Take that back! STAN I won't take it back! You all might have forgotten who you are, but I haven't!after of fact, I bet to Cartman, you're still that stupid little Jew kid! KYLE That's IT. KYLE takes out his phone. what are you doing? …I'm tweeting about this. I thought it was X now… It is, but you can't ‘x' anything, it's still calledl tweeting. I guess youre right. —and I'm tagging Cartman ! STAN Are you serious? Oh shit, this is social suicide. …did I ever explain this storyline? …I don't know, did i? I'd gotten so focused on this impending doom looming over me with this whole lawsuit that I'd forgotten entire worlds and whole documents. Even more terrifying, was the sudden quiet and the onset guilt that came over me for getting distracted. But I couldn't remove myself from it entirely—- it seemed to have ruined everything. It wasn't just motorcycle noises, it was like a nervousness and angst twisting in my stomach for months and months, until finally, as the court dates started approaching, it was peaceful, or rather, normal, all of a sudden. It couldn't be peaceful because now that the extreme noise was gone, I knew it had been planted all long— but what was the purpose? I'd lost two years not knowing, and though there were albums, they were never what I wanted. Now I was sorting through the documents of the show like it was the rubble of a decimated building— completely demolished, and I hadn't the slightest clue the contexts or the storylines anymore. It was pain and suffering, but not in the legal context. It was a creative disaster— I hadn't any idea in the slightest where I'd left my audience before I was forced to abandon them. But I was forced to choose, at times, between soap and toilet paper, or eventually, food, and water— or a phone. Eventually, this too became a pattern of the impossible— trying my hardest to do what I thought had been my purpose, but for far, being so endlessly sabotaged, even ridiculed and humiliated, and still, I couldn't understand why. I was tired— and somehow, even though I'd wanted to be left alone, I was the target. Worse was that I assumed it to be bigger than I thought and completely out of control— I thought immediately back to how my best friend from middle school had been attacked, and how she was made to think that it was me…to the point that she'd become obsessive about it to call my mom over it. And as far as the court was concerned, to the wrong ears or wrong eyes, anything I'd published in the festival project could look troublesome, like the ramblings of a mad mad, or schizo, or uncontrolled obsessive thoughts— because the biggest secrets of all, the things that tied together these fictional worlds and plots, were my own real life experience. The inability in a court of law to detail the podcast, which had started as meltdown some would call grandiose over an almost long forgotten rockstar and a porn model — and the entries into the festival project that followed, which included high concepts, off-kilter comedy, politics, and even fringed on social justice. Nothing I ever would have wanted and especially over money, but the lawsuit wasn't about money at all. In fact, at any moment I would have chosen to die and have it all stop if it weren't for my very young son being left alone. Though recently the dread had overcome with a sense of unbearable loss and agony, encrypted with suicidal thoughts and wants, reeling for human touch, the overbearing factor seemed to be that if I killed myself, I was giving someone what they wanted. I was really much too tired to go on, but leaving behind the world in entirety, in my very own way of beliefs wasn't just “shitutting it off”, it was starting it over. Understandably and undeniably immortal in its nature, the instances of God I had left spoke with a reminiscence of being born again, and having to remember which is it I'd wanted to start off. It was an unachievable overload of chaos and disruption, a level of corruption that spoke to something so dark and sinister it seemed biblical — then, again, I tried to wrap my mind around a way to rebuild a positive world from hope and thought, or manifest reality, but this is the very experience I'd felt was intended all along. The motorcycles weren't merely meant to destroy my career, or my will power, or force— they were, but also they were made to play upon my most valuable asset, the power of thought, to make it impossible to become something other than what was wanted; to use my own mind against itself and destroy my way of thought by using vibrations that could not be shut out, or stopped— they followed me to the sound collective, to Shakespeare in the park, the bank, the doctors office— it was as if they knew and understood my very thoughts, my process. It was of nothing at all to corrupt every single body and brain who would surround me or come close— by using the power that seemed supernatural enough, but indeed were powered by money, and technology. Perhaps, in this essence, I thought, was the purest display of defective intention itself; the mere thought that this indeed was rather Good Vs. Evil or God and The Devil would easily be written off as a diseased way of thought. The social world and constructs had been built around being open minded to a system of psychology that was intrinsically rather corrupt. I knew this could only be fought with what I knew, and what I could draw from as logic. I didn't want to go to court because I knew the people I would be fighting were liars, and well trained psychological masters of manipulation, well hidden terrorists dressed as public servants and systematic corrupters all for simple profit margins, to whom I was not so much a person or a mother, or a daughter, but a number. Because I was poor, and had once or four times chosen to love the wrong person in an unorthodox and uncontrollable form of torture, dismissing each and every social construct or physiology that was by the book, by embracing that there was a reason for change I quickly became quite the antagonist of sorts and hopefully not some sort of martyr —for the kind of people that had money and property, and perhaps even socially constructed circles to camoflage their own self doubt and hatred, but absolutely also had no morals. –Death of a Superstar DJ If I lose my mind At least I know I'm right on time This time— I meant that, I had it bad this time MCBADBAT I had it bad this time, And the last. Perchance for you, Hour or folded, Hair my weight And glassed upon thy, This upon now, Feathered waking, And there barely weathered Shaking. Dear, dear, Tis is fair truth, To fare that I have gasp And fated at thy doorstep; And yet, care to force, Her breaking waves and saving tinder, Fit there slithered in as yet astonished, Then another; And I hated. So, then, slower now. All there, gathered none. And show to show thy force What then became and withered after, None to bark or beg But birds and feathered creatures, pander The tides did Quake, And the heart did grow ten fold and steady saying None upon us but one left to shiver in the depths That yet remain as undiscovered For now never there was another world, Undone, And also another becomes, My death— And therefore all the worlds I kept, To travel on and travel As becomes one, does another onward As the first is glass to dust, And last is born there. So, Then, I, Crept, In my dress, Kept for clothes that church did water I, met, My mark and there the doors of shadows open Wilted and wake? Hear you; A star was born In other cosmos tied with our own nurture So, Kept, The weight of clasp and bone That holds the crept and precious alter Goddamn cat! Where are you. AAtticus Caaticus Oop. Gotta go. Toonces! Tooooonces! Where are you? Omg remember that one where that couple has a magic toddler and they just let him like,float away. Yeah, barely. Yeah. So I do. CUT TO: TOONCES focuses intently on the task at hand; he's sure he can manage to drive the human vehicle to his own home— to where he's assured he will find the actual body in which he belongs. Now… let's see, if I can just Wait, I who? ATTICUS CATTICUS, An ancient alien sorcerer must relay a series of important messages. Unfortunately. YO WHAT THE FUCK. None of them seem to be getting through. CUT BACK TO: TOONCEEESSSS. here kitty kitty kitty!! {Enter the Multiverse} I would dedicate, but honestly I've not time to waste And I'm craving wedding cake I hate to destroy you But for now, you know I can't employ you; This implies my eyes are also murder And I'm sure of her departure From another world, Perhaps across the border. Also, quite the dark sorcerer himself LORNE MICHAELS has well hidden himself under the guise of having become one of the most successful television producer of all times— And even in his own very small world, Nobody quite seems to know why. JIMMY FALLON Lorne, I have to tell you something. LORNE MICHAELS This had better be good, Jimmy, I've just made popcorn. [the festival project ™] Don't worry, for now, The risk remains hidden, As sure as an asset is an advantage, I can't have the classes counting Heads of cabbage as accomplishes, The masses are honestly astonished And impossible, but what was wrong with Boredom in the first place? Nonsense More words And still no dollars Hunger strike, And burning harder, California deficit, lack of bread, Heaven sent interventions and scissors, Mistresses, disasters and divorces But who says the whole story has to suffer? You're a surfer under water, Remember that when you finally catch your breath above the surface Can you clear her? He who? Back to work! Or back to the future! My super brain is dead but I think I'm next I think heaven swallows whole the blooded laugher From the constructs I've come from. Remember that. Remember not to fall from too far up, God would give you wings With time to spare Before you ever wondered where Your mark was On the plaza Don't let me up to the very top. I will at the very least Best scenario jump off And rid the world myself, Just for a dozen donuts over Crossing hearts and Hollywood And Griffith park To also soft my foot Upon red carpets. You ever shave your armpits!? …no. Hm. Catholic. Of course. Get in. Destination. —Rotterdam. You idiot. I made it. Whatever, get in the boat. DI NERO Give her your shirt. What. Your shirt. Why my shirt. Just— Fine. Here. [he hands over his shirt— in an instant, the woman becomes an exact REPLICA.] …my shirt. Relax. Nothing's gonna happen to it. Okay? —in fact, you're still wearing it. Alright! She's right, Jimmy, relax. I can't, that's— It's simple. There is nothing simple about this whatsoever. You're right. It's not, so get over it. [The Festival Project ™] BILL MURRAY There's a compartment at the end of the left corridor— Alright. In that hatch, there's a chamber. Okay, what'll I do? You'll open it? How? I'll tell you how, just get there. Suddenly, a barrier falls; it appears as though there are booby traps set here. Uh— that might be a problem. There might be a few of them. What just happened? Booby traps. —ah, I know what you're talking. Those aren't booby traps— they're Bobby Traps. What in the Hell are you talking about? For whatever reason Jimmy Kimmel Is important Now I'm scared of him, I know he knows the devil Come to think of it, Might even be an advocate Have an avocado But don't know the half of it These are, as it stands Comes what may Special circumstances I could circumvent an intervention, Never second chances I've been setting rat traps, Trapeze artists, Bampheramph camp, And also trampolines over the plaza That seems dangerous. Yeah. AHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Damn. Know it's plausible, That I also am an alcoholic, Though dysfunctional, Professional, And underrepresented So I stand myself, Let's just say pro-se if you will I could add Prozac to my snacks But I'll be delayed, if you still Don't get my messages I'm sick of having heart attacks; A hard advantage I was looking back on “fully packaged” A six pack of abs And nothing left to eat but cabbage, Haven't had a mouth, But I've been counting on my ass To get me back up north, I'm coming from the South Out West, there's a word for that At best, you're a four and a half My body double stunts and stumbles Struts at nothing Struck before the one, And so between high noon and Somewhere around 30 in I'm never turning 30, 30 Rock is in the wind— So count that up, That's what my income is. That's what they said? “Too late, you've been betrayed” If that's how it is, Then I request “beheaded” You know your mother says That ugly face just becomes permanent If you keep making it, And so I did, The second that it ended I'm Trying so hard Just to be What they want That it hurts Just to stop And relax For a moment INT. THE LAIR. NIGHT What is this? Where am I? You're— Alive. Why? …I changed my mind. You're not ugly You're just not mine I changed my mind I changed my life around. I skip line after line, But the message ain't right, I have time a chance No challenge accepted No exceptions or Expectations Expand this racism vocabulary Set the rat traps back To February Stamp the weather's getting Better with the postage clearing Abstr– My cat is so cute I can't stand him; But he's pretty bad, That my only friend; Animal. I blacklisted deadmau5, And my whole set sucked. Presently, however I'm a peasant Plucking pheasant feathers Guess I– pppftt. Like it never even happened But I'm sure we're all to war, Like a fear I never grasp it, What's l before, uncertain of your l words— My dear, were tattered and the masters heavy handed, Oh, my dear, we're marching on a battered Wit, to all your fan mail I tel you, I was I tortured, Let me show you And also, No one forced my hand at magic, Questioned prestidigitation, Or went back to every second, Land you think you owned as time In fact, my crucial very hard earned gossip column Asks the reader to reform his or her thought Before a judgement can be made How fascinating. The bag says ‘poems' so I wrote one, But I'm sure since my marker's toggled on I'm being stalked, It's like a magnet, Punch the clock And here they pour into the coffin So I won't be pouring coffee for the puffin; Maybe someday I'll look back at this as all I ever wanted, But for now it's just a horror show, Where I belong the murder— Yet a thriller, Best, The audience is captivated, Yes This is evasive, Cause I can't been captured yet By either masses or Mass murderers. At last, a cadence comes clean of its Breaking waves and rhythms, Tides and ties, Becomes another— Then, I'm whisked away Not back to slumber, but of subtle thoughts Of Californian water Lapping up across our surfboards; I often wear them tides, The undertow As pull of greater waves I sit aside as all that passes [The Festival Project ™] When I see Calvin Klein, I think of you; Not what you used to be But turned in to So it's mutual— Pay attention, fool As does moss grow on a rock And this to you— It is unfortunate, my dear You miss with every twist, Adjustment of attention span, The glances I foreshadowed (Here you are, inside your past) It's just affective of the effect, You've been levitating, Yes, I find it devastating Every second kept is just a fortune But you pause before you post— You reap before you even think Of what you sow, You don't belong, Agast, (True) Set the tone, Classless, But I'm Art, you are a Daunting folk song, Mistletoe and marker. CAMERA ASSISTANT Marker. …what is this for again? CAMERA ASSISTANT (Annoyed, mumbling) Shut up. Ten minutes passes and still, I'm awake But the tragedy of the mistake has just set in, I'm sure I've been tortured, I'm paid in mistakes, but I'd rather be shattered with Mortimer's curse. To the tune of Ten by ten by ten I will never be lover, nor friend in the end. {Enter The Multiverse] DRAKE concentrates heavily on a very long , seemingly very angry message— a frowning face plastered as he writes that is so noteworthy, it catches the attention of many a passerby— still this focus unwatered, as he bashes heavily away at the text message with the thumbs of fury for over 30 minutes while sitting at a booth in a well-loved pancake restaurant. As a tall stack of pancakes is served before him, and he, still unbreaking this angry texting streak or eye contact with his phone sits before them, history is made in what internet culture has now deemed as “the most meme worthy face in history” The world wonders what he could possibly be writing— and more importantly—-who he could be texting. Tears come to his eyes but do not fall as he raises his thumb with reserve, to finally press [RETURN.] CUT TO: SUNNI BLU receives a text amidst a wild party. Almost without so much as a reaction, SUNNI BLU pings the message to a projector and cuts off the lights, and music. A VERY LONG, ANGRY TEXT is projected on the wall. I slept from 10-2 There was nothing else to do My name is Devin DeLouise And I am not supposed to know these things Seven are dead and three are left I know what's next I'm also often known as And referred to as coyote ugly; Suffering a tantra wall, Yo, you son of a bitch! You dirty, dirty son of a bitch. I must admit, I had a lot to do with this… I had no part in it! Relax… soon enough, the both of your realize— this is how the unimaginable gets written. [he loads the polished sterling silver pistol and glamours over it] You have our memory. —all memory. And as soon as it ends, before it can begin again. The slate is wiped clean. Good riddance. “A Different Kind of Monologue” Is this what you wanted? Ooh— you should try me! I wish you would try me! Try me! I wish you would. Be calm, Grand Master. This will all be over momentarily. What's going on. Deprivation chamber. Crypt? —Encrypted? A lockup. Ah. Thought so. That ought to show us what he's really made up. We can all hope. [he pounds on the glass, the one way mirror acts as a camera which the maj aresses, rabid and wi the anger of a dangerous animal, both we, n audience, and the small group of men gathered a the other side of the room. This could be the basis of a lot of lawsuits. So now I have your tears and agony A wilted throne and wand Which which would grant a wish of comedy, And therefore ever after, Not pain and guilt, but laughter So heavy is the hat that acts as crown, And so foolish is the King to think ‘imself as not one, Creaks the crow and also of the feathered guilt that follows, I Kept and bashful, wishing not the show as throne but sorrow, Kept to wick and wake and bones to shatter from tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Do you fear us? …do you wish to be feared? What of us? I seek to cause the wish that stands as though you may as granted. So shallow, fair child. And brother and my son also. Gross! Stop. You are weird! Dude, you are fucked. In the withdraw, my shadows and darkness Are there always, never resting Stories and gathered images, Visions of betrayal and archaic wants. In time, I've abandoned them all and betraying that which I've lost, For I know, and not ponder on That I shall never know love, As all standing tal over me Have eyes; And all I want Knows not what hides under my ugly. Alright. I followed your spiral, downward, and down wind and down wood, Into a place where I also aspired to show your mark Upon my rotted corpse or coarse crossifix; Sure worded and down trodden. Now, worse, I'm also sworn To mourn all my own losses, Kind folk. Kind hearted and now my eyes also sudden to wander— And there goes my miles and triumphs And morals and war songs, And sure, swallowed the barrel of a gun But also departed with honor, I tell I. Glimpses of wither and winter and whittling pain, And I slither my back to the center of All I am, in this, and shadows, Fairtails, And grains of rice and sand to twist away Into the rain as I lay dying. What a fortunate! Don't make my mark up and out, few for short times, Aye, conspire to warthog, Remember so force your spirit onto ours, And shake, sandbox! There aiming at you were the snakes of six liars, And the stakes of empires lost and won over, Also one solemn subtle Star of David Worn upon the neck of six monks, Ragtime Six popes, pass I; Six fathers and streaks solemn and Care tan teared salamander, Having weight and wake to cheer For our slaughter. Then, you, Having gained and also lost should reap to sow, What you'd have wanted; Though the tongue so convexed having way to guild your complex, Shaking as I hunger fruit that not but hangs Before l wanted I know, I could knot be consoled I know, I could not be consoled I know I could not be consolidated either Bought, or purchased I know I'm not consoled at all, I know I'm not confirmed at all I know, I know I'm not confronted, nor immortal — but your glorified affliction. Poor infinity. Of poverty, perhaps, but never poor at all. For your were warned of all the doors as opened at your calling. Not to walk though, But to ponder at them, wondering. he's gone Maybe I should go Too Heavy weight hanging on my Shoulders I'm just star struck I don't know You I don't really like saying What I go through Talk an hour, Fake it All day show Monologue Improvisation Now i'm on a roll, But my thoughts got darker I like adderall and a real smooth talker I like a husband-father , Doctor, Actor, Tall and handsome, Doesn't matter I'm alone, so i feel hopeless Aggie's gone, So i might as well go though Oh– She's gone ((I think i'm past my time)) I think i should go to She's gone (so long) Right on, man I might as well go to It's been a long time, Gotta turn my light off, Overtime, That's a long ball game Season's over; On my back in the middle of the ball court She's gone, So i might as well go too. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025 The Festival Project, Inc. ™ All rights reserved. Chroma111. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025. [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights reserved. UNAUTHORIZED REPRODUCTION OR DISTRIBUTION IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED BY LAW. INFRIGMENT IS PUNSHABLE BY FEDERAL LAW LEGAL NOTICE / ARTIST STATEMENT Project: The Festival Project ™ (Season 12) Genre: Speculative Auto-Ethnography / Social Surrealism Disclaimer: This document is a work of creative non-fiction and political satire. While inspired by the author's lived experiences with systemic oppression, housing displacement, and surveillance, the narrative employs stylized fragmentation, stream-of-consciousness, and metaphor to dramatize the psychological impact of these events. The "characters" and "dialogue" herein are artistic devices used to critique historical and modern power structures. This text should be viewed as a performative artistic expression protected under the First Amendment, and not as a literal transcript of clinical psychosis or a formal sworn affidavit. This is a character study of 'Chroma111,' the collective artworks of a musician living in a dystopian surveillance state. The erratic language is a stylistic choice to represent the character's psychological deterioration under systemic oppression. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Genre: "Afro-Surrealism" / "Social Horror" "Psycho-Acoustic Weaponry" or "Havana Syndrome symptoms." The Frame: The protagonist is subjected to "noise harassment"—a tactic dramatized here but rooted in the known reality of tenant displacement and "psychological attrition." The narrative depicts a process of "Soul Murder" ( also known as spiritual warfare) orchestrated by a hostile apparatus. The antagonist is "The Institution," representing deep-state mechanisms that view multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story allegorically dramatizes the invisible mechanisms that enforce racial hierarchy, depicting how broken social systems weaponize psychological practices against the individual. Artist's Note: This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as an artistic testament to the psychological siege endured from to 2023-2025. It is a creative record of survival against a hostile state architecture. The following is a creative non-fiction horror manifesto regarding the psychological assassination of a multicultural American artist. It documents—through the lens of Afro-Surrealism—how modern surveillance technology and sonic harassment are experienced by the targeted individual. As it stands It has become a modern sequel which mirrors the civil rights struggles of the 1960s, set in the present day. "The protagonist is being subjected to 'noise harassment'—a known tactic used by landlords and corrupt entities to displace tenants. The sound is weaponized to induce sleep deprivation and psychological attrition, dismantling of their ego and will to live, orchestrated by a hostile state apparatus. The antagonist in this piece is 'The Institution'—a deep state that views multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story dramatizes over time the invisible mechanisms (the 'Deep State') that enforce racial hierarchy and and psychological genocide, weaponizing broken social systems and unfounded psychological practices as biological weapons. This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as evidence of the psychological siege endured from 2023-2025. It is a transcript of survival against a hostile state architecture. This project spans an unlimited multiprojectoral arc of over two years of chronic violence, reaching into historical and theatrical projections and parallels over the all documented records of human existence through time and space.

Don't you see, sensei I'm just as disappointed in myself And ready to die Just as I relay the message, Spray me with your morbid essence Don't, croak, you fool, You've only a spoon ful of sugar left to go The dose is coming up your throat, — you didn't know to throw up Grab the rope and go up Before gravity has crushed your —thought: Stupid boy, you don't want to die— Nor to do, but oh, do we have it coming Silly mortal, overlords and governed, Short of morals, steady coming at your doorstep So goes our concert! And so goes our concept for divorce, And sure of course, Your four corse meal, and/or dessert This is just devastating, genetics made me The sort at sorting words, but surfing, Sure. Ever temporarily the cadence changes, Still they say “you've been betrayed” But never had a friend I made made As good as death and God have been to me For everything you're meant to be, Plus everything you're meant to me, I go, unwanted, troubled and disgusted at my own immortal outcome. Sure. My back hurts and I'm wounded, Heartbroke, Thrust in every cardinal direction Also, honored at the mark of magic wand Upon her shoulder; And so, Just as soon as the sun and moon, Does the fire escape set a perfect path For outward destruction of the bricks and mortar Or your alter (This we talk about, to some effect Is your repression and affective form of supernatural perfection) But forget the makeup; I can make you up to be a star And not of wars and other worlds, But those that come before us, Carson, and the others Paar before that. But, I think not dear sir How wrong you are, A wretched bird, Set not to fly, but O father Wit and relay messages, The passage said, and set to clocks, The past was won and so the future altered, But dear feathered father, Mortal you are not But just another triumph Of my god; And set the mirror to the magnets Camera, lights and action, Magic— All the signs of the dawn, and the mad don Red Dawn came upon us, called the Red Man Tom, from other, over, under Still was my mistake to mumble such Or put upon the tongue As such assumption Still— wonder? Bird, shut up; Love I dusk And lust I soak In all the frittered dust and feathers, Colors, coming up as mister Chuck and wood, and wait and ponder Slithered this to wonder, not a rock, But potted fern, Asunder Thunderstorm And wicked rain And fair the back A tide had come And sitting there upon the shore, Was us, and 12 apostles She's a Brick— Seemingly out of nowhere, A RED BRICK HOUSE falls very perfectly from the SKY and into OZ. oh good, my house is here. House. [the festival project ™] But I don't want to make house! Then play it! I don't want to play house it is BORING. You play it— they want it. But I don't want it. Then forget it! What! Listen kid, a job's a job! {Enter The Multiverse} Wrong, this is wrong— everything is wrong. What's wrong, Rob? I'll be back. ROB LOWE has just played TRUTH OR DARE L E G E N D S if I could get inside your head For just a second Bread and butter Heaven, hell, And other places I have wandered But oh, wonder This is never what I wanted, Was it? No sir. Sure, I set you off, No sooner had you got a gun and shot me. Handsome fucker. I'll bet. Wrong act. Wrong award show. Wrong hat and a baseball bat, Peanut butter and a nice cold cheesecake, Don't forget to order cheesesteak For your cat. A carnivore at odds with the other worlds, And also fused to us; This drifting back and forth Between the Rock And Hollywood Has got to stop. ((The world is toxic.)) the legend of… L. JONES It's you! BLŪ AH, crap. L. JONES Listen, I got something for you. BLŪ Where did your bird go? L.JONES What bird? CUT TO: Now open that. No wait! It's a trap! THE VAULT inside THE CRYPT at 30 ROCK has been opened. I keep looking down at my phone As if I'm expecting a phone call Or incoming message from God But the worlds to a song Are all jumbled up in my Concious I don't want to talk about it I feel Nauseous Everyone is being obnoxious Even my own blood I don't want to function I just want some French toast crunch For lunch Nostalgia I got a whole inch taller on the peloton Holla Now I got a body, Broader, So close to Broadway But I never go there That's a tall order Of “gotta have money” I mean live theatre It's fine I'll eat here And repeat these things till they just rhyme Line them all up like a context, Story Someday I'm gonna cut my own check Watch me lol none of this rhymes without a hard Brooklyn accent ; Guess you can't hack it! Send you ass packin! I said “That's whack son!” Then I went back blonde Now they want Backend, Contract, Off the top, Royalties Residuals I'm an individual with insidious syntax And yet I'm ridiculed Truly I'm a tit-for-tat Or particle of all you are Circular centrifuge, I trickle down your tentacles (Eugh) Choke the chicken just to give the cat a chicken bowl, Chick fil et and pret a tair just to get a ritual Espresso and a quick snack So I can get my dick wrapped In chocolate and licorice because the shit is edible Damn that I guess they set a damn trap By putting out the welcome mat, Then strapping Like a mothafuckin' straight jacket Matter fact, I look a nap in it, Then magic tricked the slip effective Compliments of Michael Jackson Or was it tech nine? Maybe I should get my Mind right I lost it once I guess I've better find it If I am, in fact, A diamond in the rough It's probably blooded it up enough That you should dig it up and shine it; Better yet, Somebody outta pick it up And sign it, Cause I write enough To put a vision To a blind man It's Fran Fine, man I'm behind, man The shadowgov had put me on a diet My bad I noticed that they tried to shut me up But couldn't stop the words or other stuff That just keeps coming out of my head I put coconuts as butter onto my bread And thinking thoughts of Carl cox As I drift off in my bed, I said, “It shouldn't be a problem, officer” As I reached for the gun And he aimed it at my death. That's an impossible apocalyptic suicide— Did you invite the devil in? I said “Nah, but that guy did.” The problem is, I pointed over yonder to a ghost Who also knows that I'm a well respected psychic; Nevermind a sidekick, side bitch in a sidecar, Psych ward, Sike! We spike war on your kind! So far, If I make history tonight, The other side decides their psalm is just as likely The third reike. Okay, strike one: I'm gonna turn your lights off. Strike two : you do and say what I do: Strike three: we're gonna make you suicidal I specialize in denying rights for high profits But big brother, or boss— What if my glove fits? The instance it does, We lock you up with no service, Your world becomes dark And your words become worthless Oh shit. This is not a good rap song. Like, at all. I must say, I do agree, You lose your trust, but silently Denied is all your trouble, Till it just begins to bubble up Until the cookie crumbles— See that feeling in your stomach? This is bigger than the money, girl — They want your soul, and then the world! I told you never call him. I didn't! Then explain this: [Skrillex] *sharp inward sigh* CUT IMMIDIATLEH TO STAN You know what! That's it! I don't care how handsome or rich and famous he is! This has to stop! KYLE Hey, wait just a minute— STAN SHUT UP KYLE. KYLE You shut up! STAN You're starting to sound just like him! KYLE Take that back! STAN I won't take it back! You all might have forgotten who you are, but I haven't!after of fact, I bet to Cartman, you're still that stupid little Jew kid! KYLE That's IT. KYLE takes out his phone. what are you doing? …I'm tweeting about this. I thought it was X now… It is, but you can't ‘x' anything, it's still calledl tweeting. I guess youre right. —and I'm tagging Cartman ! STAN Are you serious? Oh shit, this is social suicide. …did I ever explain this storyline? …I don't know, did i? I'd gotten so focused on this impending doom looming over me with this whole lawsuit that I'd forgotten entire worlds and whole documents. Even more terrifying, was the sudden quiet and the onset guilt that came over me for getting distracted. But I couldn't remove myself from it entirely—- it seemed to have ruined everything. It wasn't just motorcycle noises, it was like a nervousness and angst twisting in my stomach for months and months, until finally, as the court dates started approaching, it was peaceful, or rather, normal, all of a sudden. It couldn't be peaceful because now that the extreme noise was gone, I knew it had been planted all long— but what was the purpose? I'd lost two years not knowing, and though there were albums, they were never what I wanted. Now I was sorting through the documents of the show like it was the rubble of a decimated building— completely demolished, and I hadn't the slightest clue the contexts or the storylines anymore. It was pain and suffering, but not in the legal context. It was a creative disaster— I hadn't any idea in the slightest where I'd left my audience before I was forced to abandon them. But I was forced to choose, at times, between soap and toilet paper, or eventually, food, and water— or a phone. Eventually, this too became a pattern of the impossible— trying my hardest to do what I thought had been my purpose, but for far, being so endlessly sabotaged, even ridiculed and humiliated, and still, I couldn't understand why. I was tired— and somehow, even though I'd wanted to be left alone, I was the target. Worse was that I assumed it to be bigger than I thought and completely out of control— I thought immediately back to how my best friend from middle school had been attacked, and how she was made to think that it was me…to the point that she'd become obsessive about it to call my mom over it. And as far as the court was concerned, to the wrong ears or wrong eyes, anything I'd published in the festival project could look troublesome, like the ramblings of a mad mad, or schizo, or uncontrolled obsessive thoughts— because the biggest secrets of all, the things that tied together these fictional worlds and plots, were my own real life experience. The inability in a court of law to detail the podcast, which had started as meltdown some would call grandiose over an almost long forgotten rockstar and a porn model — and the entries into the festival project that followed, which included high concepts, off-kilter comedy, politics, and even fringed on social justice. Nothing I ever would have wanted and especially over money, but the lawsuit wasn't about money at all. In fact, at any moment I would have chosen to die and have it all stop if it weren't for my very young son being left alone. Though recently the dread had overcome with a sense of unbearable loss and agony, encrypted with suicidal thoughts and wants, reeling for human touch, the overbearing factor seemed to be that if I killed myself, I was giving someone what they wanted. I was really much too tired to go on, but leaving behind the world in entirety, in my very own way of beliefs wasn't just “shitutting it off”, it was starting it over. Understandably and undeniably immortal in its nature, the instances of God I had left spoke with a reminiscence of being born again, and having to remember which is it I'd wanted to start off. It was an unachievable overload of chaos and disruption, a level of corruption that spoke to something so dark and sinister it seemed biblical — then, again, I tried to wrap my mind around a way to rebuild a positive world from hope and thought, or manifest reality, but this is the very experience I'd felt was intended all along. The motorcycles weren't merely meant to destroy my career, or my will power, or force— they were, but also they were made to play upon my most valuable asset, the power of thought, to make it impossible to become something other than what was wanted; to use my own mind against itself and destroy my way of thought by using vibrations that could not be shut out, or stopped— they followed me to the sound collective, to Shakespeare in the park, the bank, the doctors office— it was as if they knew and understood my very thoughts, my process. It was of nothing at all to corrupt every single body and brain who would surround me or come close— by using the power that seemed supernatural enough, but indeed were powered by money, and technology. Perhaps, in this essence, I thought, was the purest display of defective intention itself; the mere thought that this indeed was rather Good Vs. Evil or God and The Devil would easily be written off as a diseased way of thought. The social world and constructs had been built around being open minded to a system of psychology that was intrinsically rather corrupt. I knew this could only be fought with what I knew, and what I could draw from as logic. I didn't want to go to court because I knew the people I would be fighting were liars, and well trained psychological masters of manipulation, well hidden terrorists dressed as public servants and systematic corrupters all for simple profit margins, to whom I was not so much a person or a mother, or a daughter, but a number. Because I was poor, and had once or four times chosen to love the wrong person in an unorthodox and uncontrollable form of torture, dismissing each and every social construct or physiology that was by the book, by embracing that there was a reason for change I quickly became quite the antagonist of sorts and hopefully not some sort of martyr —for the kind of people that had money and property, and perhaps even socially constructed circles to camoflage their own self doubt and hatred, but absolutely also had no morals. –Death of a Superstar DJ If I lose my mind At least I know I'm right on time This time— I meant that, I had it bad this time MCBADBAT I had it bad this time, And the last. Perchance for you, Hour or folded, Hair my weight And glassed upon thy, This upon now, Feathered waking, And there barely weathered Shaking. Dear, dear, Tis is fair truth, To fare that I have gasp And fated at thy doorstep; And yet, care to force, Her breaking waves and saving tinder, Fit there slithered in as yet astonished, Then another; And I hated. So, then, slower now. All there, gathered none. And show to show thy force What then became and withered after, None to bark or beg But birds and feathered creatures, pander The tides did Quake, And the heart did grow ten fold and steady saying None upon us but one left to shiver in the depths That yet remain as undiscovered For now never there was another world, Undone, And also another becomes, My death— And therefore all the worlds I kept, To travel on and travel As becomes one, does another onward As the first is glass to dust, And last is born there. So, Then, I, Crept, In my dress, Kept for clothes that church did water I, met, My mark and there the doors of shadows open Wilted and wake? Hear you; A star was born In other cosmos tied with our own nurture So, Kept, The weight of clasp and bone That holds the crept and precious alter Goddamn cat! Where are you. AAtticus Caaticus Oop. Gotta go. Toonces! Tooooonces! Where are you? Omg remember that one where that couple has a magic toddler and they just let him like,float away. Yeah, barely. Yeah. So I do. CUT TO: TOONCES focuses intently on the task at hand; he's sure he can manage to drive the human vehicle to his own home— to where he's assured he will find the actual body in which he belongs. Now… let's see, if I can just Wait, I who? ATTICUS CATTICUS, An ancient alien sorcerer must relay a series of important messages. Unfortunately. YO WHAT THE FUCK. None of them seem to be getting through. CUT BACK TO: TOONCEEESSSS. here kitty kitty kitty!! {Enter the Multiverse} I would dedicate, but honestly I've not time to waste And I'm craving wedding cake I hate to destroy you But for now, you know I can't employ you; This implies my eyes are also murder And I'm sure of her departure From another world, Perhaps across the border. Also, quite the dark sorcerer himself LORNE MICHAELS has well hidden himself under the guise of having become one of the most successful television producer of all times— And even in his own very small world, Nobody quite seems to know why. JIMMY FALLON Lorne, I have to tell you something. LORNE MICHAELS This had better be good, Jimmy, I've just made popcorn. [the festival project ™] Don't worry, for now, The risk remains hidden, As sure as an asset is an advantage, I can't have the classes counting Heads of cabbage as accomplishes, The masses are honestly astonished And impossible, but what was wrong with Boredom in the first place? Nonsense More words And still no dollars Hunger strike, And burning harder, California deficit, lack of bread, Heaven sent interventions and scissors, Mistresses, disasters and divorces But who says the whole story has to suffer? You're a surfer under water, Remember that when you finally catch your breath above the surface Can you clear her? He who? Back to work! Or back to the future! My super brain is dead but I think I'm next I think heaven swallows whole the blooded laugher From the constructs I've come from. Remember that. Remember not to fall from too far up, God would give you wings With time to spare Before you ever wondered where Your mark was On the plaza Don't let me up to the very top. I will at the very least Best scenario jump off And rid the world myself, Just for a dozen donuts over Crossing hearts and Hollywood And Griffith park To also soft my foot Upon red carpets. You ever shave your armpits!? …no. Hm. Catholic. Of course. Get in. Destination. —Rotterdam. You idiot. I made it. Whatever, get in the boat. DI NERO Give her your shirt. What. Your shirt. Why my shirt. Just— Fine. Here. [he hands over his shirt— in an instant, the woman becomes an exact REPLICA.] …my shirt. Relax. Nothing's gonna happen to it. Okay? —in fact, you're still wearing it. Alright! She's right, Jimmy, relax. I can't, that's— It's simple. There is nothing simple about this whatsoever. You're right. It's not, so get over it. [The Festival Project ™] BILL MURRAY There's a compartment at the end of the left corridor— Alright. In that hatch, there's a chamber. Okay, what'll I do? You'll open it? How? I'll tell you how, just get there. Suddenly, a barrier falls; it appears as though there are booby traps set here. Uh— that might be a problem. There might be a few of them. What just happened? Booby traps. —ah, I know what you're talking. Those aren't booby traps— they're Bobby Traps. What in the Hell are you talking about? For whatever reason Jimmy Kimmel Is important Now I'm scared of him, I know he knows the devil Come to think of it, Might even be an advocate Have an avocado But don't know the half of it These are, as it stands Comes what may Special circumstances I could circumvent an intervention, Never second chances I've been setting rat traps, Trapeze artists, Bampheramph camp, And also trampolines over the plaza That seems dangerous. Yeah. AHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Damn. Know it's plausible, That I also am an alcoholic, Though dysfunctional, Professional, And underrepresented So I stand myself, Let's just say pro-se if you will I could add Prozac to my snacks But I'll be delayed, if you still Don't get my messages I'm sick of having heart attacks; A hard advantage I was looking back on “fully packaged” A six pack of abs And nothing left to eat but cabbage, Haven't had a mouth, But I've been counting on my ass To get me back up north, I'm coming from the South Out West, there's a word for that At best, you're a four and a half My body double stunts and stumbles Struts at nothing Struck before the one, And so between high noon and Somewhere around 30 in I'm never turning 30, 30 Rock is in the wind— So count that up, That's what my income is. That's what they said? “Too late, you've been betrayed” If that's how it is, Then I request “beheaded” You know your mother says That ugly face just becomes permanent If you keep making it, And so I did, The second that it ended I'm Trying so hard Just to be What they want That it hurts Just to stop And relax For a moment INT. THE LAIR. NIGHT What is this? Where am I? You're— Alive. Why? …I changed my mind. You're not ugly You're just not mine I changed my mind I changed my life around. I skip line after line, But the message ain't right, I have time a chance No challenge accepted No exceptions or Expectations Expand this racism vocabulary Set the rat traps back To February Stamp the weather's getting Better with the postage clearing Abstr– My cat is so cute I can't stand him; But he's pretty bad, That my only friend; Animal. I blacklisted deadmau5, And my whole set sucked. Presently, however I'm a peasant Plucking pheasant feathers Guess I– pppftt. Like it never even happened But I'm sure we're all to war, Like a fear I never grasp it, What's l before, uncertain of your l words— My dear, were tattered and the masters heavy handed, Oh, my dear, we're marching on a battered Wit, to all your fan mail I tel you, I was I tortured, Let me show you And also, No one forced my hand at magic, Questioned prestidigitation, Or went back to every second, Land you think you owned as time In fact, my crucial very hard earned gossip column Asks the reader to reform his or her thought Before a judgement can be made How fascinating. The bag says ‘poems' so I wrote one, But I'm sure since my marker's toggled on I'm being stalked, It's like a magnet, Punch the clock And here they pour into the coffin So I won't be pouring coffee for the puffin; Maybe someday I'll look back at this as all I ever wanted, But for now it's just a horror show, Where I belong the murder— Yet a thriller, Best, The audience is captivated, Yes This is evasive, Cause I can't been captured yet By either masses or Mass murderers. At last, a cadence comes clean of its Breaking waves and rhythms, Tides and ties, Becomes another— Then, I'm whisked away Not back to slumber, but of subtle thoughts Of Californian water Lapping up across our surfboards; I often wear them tides, The undertow As pull of greater waves I sit aside as all that passes [The Festival Project ™] When I see Calvin Klein, I think of you; Not what you used to be But turned in to So it's mutual— Pay attention, fool As does moss grow on a rock And this to you— It is unfortunate, my dear You miss with every twist, Adjustment of attention span, The glances I foreshadowed (Here you are, inside your past) It's just affective of the effect, You've been levitating, Yes, I find it devastating Every second kept is just a fortune But you pause before you post— You reap before you even think Of what you sow, You don't belong, Agast, (True) Set the tone, Classless, But I'm Art, you are a Daunting folk song, Mistletoe and marker. CAMERA ASSISTANT Marker. …what is this for again? CAMERA ASSISTANT (Annoyed, mumbling) Shut up. Ten minutes passes and still, I'm awake But the tragedy of the mistake has just set in, I'm sure I've been tortured, I'm paid in mistakes, but I'd rather be shattered with Mortimer's curse. To the tune of Ten by ten by ten I will never be lover, nor friend in the end. {Enter The Multiverse] DRAKE concentrates heavily on a very long , seemingly very angry message— a frowning face plastered as he writes that is so noteworthy, it catches the attention of many a passerby— still this focus unwatered, as he bashes heavily away at the text message with the thumbs of fury for over 30 minutes while sitting at a booth in a well-loved pancake restaurant. As a tall stack of pancakes is served before him, and he, still unbreaking this angry texting streak or eye contact with his phone sits before them, history is made in what internet culture has now deemed as “the most meme worthy face in history” The world wonders what he could possibly be writing— and more importantly—-who he could be texting. Tears come to his eyes but do not fall as he raises his thumb with reserve, to finally press [RETURN.] CUT TO: SUNNI BLU receives a text amidst a wild party. Almost without so much as a reaction, SUNNI BLU pings the message to a projector and cuts off the lights, and music. A VERY LONG, ANGRY TEXT is projected on the wall. I slept from 10-2 There was nothing else to do My name is Devin DeLouise And I am not supposed to know these things Seven are dead and three are left I know what's next I'm also often known as And referred to as coyote ugly; Suffering a tantra wall, Yo, you son of a bitch! You dirty, dirty son of a bitch. I must admit, I had a lot to do with this… I had no part in it! Relax… soon enough, the both of your realize— this is how the unimaginable gets written. [he loads the polished sterling silver pistol and glamours over it] You have our memory. —all memory. And as soon as it ends, before it can begin again. The slate is wiped clean. Good riddance. “A Different Kind of Monologue” Is this what you wanted? Ooh— you should try me! I wish you would try me! Try me! I wish you would. Be calm, Grand Master. This will all be over momentarily. What's going on. Deprivation chamber. Crypt? —Encrypted? A lockup. Ah. Thought so. That ought to show us what he's really made up. We can all hope. [he pounds on the glass, the one way mirror acts as a camera which the maj aresses, rabid and wi the anger of a dangerous animal, both we, n audience, and the small group of men gathered a the other side of the room. This could be the basis of a lot of lawsuits. So now I have your tears and agony A wilted throne and wand Which which would grant a wish of comedy, And therefore ever after, Not pain and guilt, but laughter So heavy is the hat that acts as crown, And so foolish is the King to think ‘imself as not one, Creaks the crow and also of the feathered guilt that follows, I Kept and bashful, wishing not the show as throne but sorrow, Kept to wick and wake and bones to shatter from tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Do you fear us? …do you wish to be feared? What of us? I seek to cause the wish that stands as though you may as granted. So shallow, fair child. And brother and my son also. Gross! Stop. You are weird! Dude, you are fucked. In the withdraw, my shadows and darkness Are there always, never resting Stories and gathered images, Visions of betrayal and archaic wants. In time, I've abandoned them all and betraying that which I've lost, For I know, and not ponder on That I shall never know love, As all standing tal over me Have eyes; And all I want Knows not what hides under my ugly. Alright. I followed your spiral, downward, and down wind and down wood, Into a place where I also aspired to show your mark Upon my rotted corpse or coarse crossifix; Sure worded and down trodden. Now, worse, I'm also sworn To mourn all my own losses, Kind folk. Kind hearted and now my eyes also sudden to wander— And there goes my miles and triumphs And morals and war songs, And sure, swallowed the barrel of a gun But also departed with honor, I tell I. Glimpses of wither and winter and whittling pain, And I slither my back to the center of All I am, in this, and shadows, Fairtails, And grains of rice and sand to twist away Into the rain as I lay dying. What a fortunate! Don't make my mark up and out, few for short times, Aye, conspire to warthog, Remember so force your spirit onto ours, And shake, sandbox! There aiming at you were the snakes of six liars, And the stakes of empires lost and won over, Also one solemn subtle Star of David Worn upon the neck of six monks, Ragtime Six popes, pass I; Six fathers and streaks solemn and Care tan teared salamander, Having weight and wake to cheer For our slaughter. Then, you, Having gained and also lost should reap to sow, What you'd have wanted; Though the tongue so convexed having way to guild your complex, Shaking as I hunger fruit that not but hangs Before l wanted I know, I could knot be consoled I know, I could not be consoled I know I could not be consolidated either Bought, or purchased I know I'm not consoled at all, I know I'm not confirmed at all I know, I know I'm not confronted, nor immortal — but your glorified affliction. Poor infinity. Of poverty, perhaps, but never poor at all. For your were warned of all the doors as opened at your calling. Not to walk though, But to ponder at them, wondering. he's gone Maybe I should go Too Heavy weight hanging on my Shoulders I'm just star struck I don't know You I don't really like saying What I go through Talk an hour, Fake it All day show Monologue Improvisation Now i'm on a roll, But my thoughts got darker I like adderall and a real smooth talker I like a husband-father , Doctor, Actor, Tall and handsome, Doesn't matter I'm alone, so i feel hopeless Aggie's gone, So i might as well go though Oh– She's gone ((I think i'm past my time)) I think i should go to She's gone (so long) Right on, man I might as well go to It's been a long time, Gotta turn my light off, Overtime, That's a long ball game Season's over; On my back in the middle of the ball court She's gone, So i might as well go too. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025 The Festival Project, Inc. ™ All rights reserved. Chroma111. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025. [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights reserved. UNAUTHORIZED REPRODUCTION OR DISTRIBUTION IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED BY LAW. INFRIGMENT IS PUNSHABLE BY FEDERAL LAW LEGAL NOTICE / ARTIST STATEMENT Project: The Festival Project ™ (Season 12) Genre: Speculative Auto-Ethnography / Social Surrealism Disclaimer: This document is a work of creative non-fiction and political satire. While inspired by the author's lived experiences with systemic oppression, housing displacement, and surveillance, the narrative employs stylized fragmentation, stream-of-consciousness, and metaphor to dramatize the psychological impact of these events. The "characters" and "dialogue" herein are artistic devices used to critique historical and modern power structures. This text should be viewed as a performative artistic expression protected under the First Amendment, and not as a literal transcript of clinical psychosis or a formal sworn affidavit. This is a character study of 'Chroma111,' the collective artworks of a musician living in a dystopian surveillance state. The erratic language is a stylistic choice to represent the character's psychological deterioration under systemic oppression. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Genre: "Afro-Surrealism" / "Social Horror" "Psycho-Acoustic Weaponry" or "Havana Syndrome symptoms." The Frame: The protagonist is subjected to "noise harassment"—a tactic dramatized here but rooted in the known reality of tenant displacement and "psychological attrition." The narrative depicts a process of "Soul Murder" ( also known as spiritual warfare) orchestrated by a hostile apparatus. The antagonist is "The Institution," representing deep-state mechanisms that view multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story allegorically dramatizes the invisible mechanisms that enforce racial hierarchy, depicting how broken social systems weaponize psychological practices against the individual. Artist's Note: This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as an artistic testament to the psychological siege endured from to 2023-2025. It is a creative record of survival against a hostile state architecture. The following is a creative non-fiction horror manifesto regarding the psychological assassination of a multicultural American artist. It documents—through the lens of Afro-Surrealism—how modern surveillance technology and sonic harassment are experienced by the targeted individual. As it stands It has become a modern sequel which mirrors the civil rights struggles of the 1960s, set in the present day. "The protagonist is being subjected to 'noise harassment'—a known tactic used by landlords and corrupt entities to displace tenants. The sound is weaponized to induce sleep deprivation and psychological attrition, dismantling of their ego and will to live, orchestrated by a hostile state apparatus. The antagonist in this piece is 'The Institution'—a deep state that views multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story dramatizes over time the invisible mechanisms (the 'Deep State') that enforce racial hierarchy and and psychological genocide, weaponizing broken social systems and unfounded psychological practices as biological weapons. This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as evidence of the psychological siege endured from 2023-2025. It is a transcript of survival against a hostile state architecture. This project spans an unlimited multiprojectoral arc of over two years of chronic violence, reaching into historical and theatrical projections and parallels over the all documented records of human existence through time and space.

Don't you see, sensei I'm just as disappointed in myself And ready to die Just as I relay the message, Spray me with your morbid essence Don't, croak, you fool, You've only a spoon ful of sugar left to go The dose is coming up your throat, — you didn't know to throw up Grab the rope and go up Before gravity has crushed your —thought: Stupid boy, you don't want to die— Nor to do, but oh, do we have it coming Silly mortal, overlords and governed, Short of morals, steady coming at your doorstep So goes our concert! And so goes our concept for divorce, And sure of course, Your four corse meal, and/or dessert This is just devastating, genetics made me The sort at sorting words, but surfing, Sure. Ever temporarily the cadence changes, Still they say “you've been betrayed” But never had a friend I made made As good as death and God have been to me For everything you're meant to be, Plus everything you're meant to me, I go, unwanted, troubled and disgusted at my own immortal outcome. Sure. My back hurts and I'm wounded, Heartbroke, Thrust in every cardinal direction Also, honored at the mark of magic wand Upon her shoulder; And so, Just as soon as the sun and moon, Does the fire escape set a perfect path For outward destruction of the bricks and mortar Or your alter (This we talk about, to some effect Is your repression and affective form of supernatural perfection) But forget the makeup; I can make you up to be a star And not of wars and other worlds, But those that come before us, Carson, and the others Paar before that. But, I think not dear sir How wrong you are, A wretched bird, Set not to fly, but O father Wit and relay messages, The passage said, and set to clocks, The past was won and so the future altered, But dear feathered father, Mortal you are not But just another triumph Of my god; And set the mirror to the magnets Camera, lights and action, Magic— All the signs of the dawn, and the mad don Red Dawn came upon us, called the Red Man Tom, from other, over, under Still was my mistake to mumble such Or put upon the tongue As such assumption Still— wonder? Bird, shut up; Love I dusk And lust I soak In all the frittered dust and feathers, Colors, coming up as mister Chuck and wood, and wait and ponder Slithered this to wonder, not a rock, But potted fern, Asunder Thunderstorm And wicked rain And fair the back A tide had come And sitting there upon the shore, Was us, and 12 apostles She's a Brick— Seemingly out of nowhere, A RED BRICK HOUSE falls very perfectly from the SKY and into OZ. oh good, my house is here. House. [the festival project ™] But I don't want to make house! Then play it! I don't want to play house it is BORING. You play it— they want it. But I don't want it. Then forget it! What! Listen kid, a job's a job! {Enter The Multiverse} Wrong, this is wrong— everything is wrong. What's wrong, Rob? I'll be back. ROB LOWE has just played TRUTH OR DARE L E G E N D S if I could get inside your head For just a second Bread and butter Heaven, hell, And other places I have wandered But oh, wonder This is never what I wanted, Was it? No sir. Sure, I set you off, No sooner had you got a gun and shot me. Handsome fucker. I'll bet. Wrong act. Wrong award show. Wrong hat and a baseball bat, Peanut butter and a nice cold cheesecake, Don't forget to order cheesesteak For your cat. A carnivore at odds with the other worlds, And also fused to us; This drifting back and forth Between the Rock And Hollywood Has got to stop. ((The world is toxic.)) the legend of… L. JONES It's you! BLŪ AH, crap. L. JONES Listen, I got something for you. BLŪ Where did your bird go? L.JONES What bird? CUT TO: Now open that. No wait! It's a trap! THE VAULT inside THE CRYPT at 30 ROCK has been opened. I keep looking down at my phone As if I'm expecting a phone call Or incoming message from God But the worlds to a song Are all jumbled up in my Concious I don't want to talk about it I feel Nauseous Everyone is being obnoxious Even my own blood I don't want to function I just want some French toast crunch For lunch Nostalgia I got a whole inch taller on the peloton Holla Now I got a body, Broader, So close to Broadway But I never go there That's a tall order Of “gotta have money” I mean live theatre It's fine I'll eat here And repeat these things till they just rhyme Line them all up like a context, Story Someday I'm gonna cut my own check Watch me lol none of this rhymes without a hard Brooklyn accent ; Guess you can't hack it! Send you ass packin! I said “That's whack son!” Then I went back blonde Now they want Backend, Contract, Off the top, Royalties Residuals I'm an individual with insidious syntax And yet I'm ridiculed Truly I'm a tit-for-tat Or particle of all you are Circular centrifuge, I trickle down your tentacles (Eugh) Choke the chicken just to give the cat a chicken bowl, Chick fil et and pret a tair just to get a ritual Espresso and a quick snack So I can get my dick wrapped In chocolate and licorice because the shit is edible Damn that I guess they set a damn trap By putting out the welcome mat, Then strapping Like a mothafuckin' straight jacket Matter fact, I look a nap in it, Then magic tricked the slip effective Compliments of Michael Jackson Or was it tech nine? Maybe I should get my Mind right I lost it once I guess I've better find it If I am, in fact, A diamond in the rough It's probably blooded it up enough That you should dig it up and shine it; Better yet, Somebody outta pick it up And sign it, Cause I write enough To put a vision To a blind man It's Fran Fine, man I'm behind, man The shadowgov had put me on a diet My bad I noticed that they tried to shut me up But couldn't stop the words or other stuff That just keeps coming out of my head I put coconuts as butter onto my bread And thinking thoughts of Carl cox As I drift off in my bed, I said, “It shouldn't be a problem, officer” As I reached for the gun And he aimed it at my death. That's an impossible apocalyptic suicide— Did you invite the devil in? I said “Nah, but that guy did.” The problem is, I pointed over yonder to a ghost Who also knows that I'm a well respected psychic; Nevermind a sidekick, side bitch in a sidecar, Psych ward, Sike! We spike war on your kind! So far, If I make history tonight, The other side decides their psalm is just as likely The third reike. Okay, strike one: I'm gonna turn your lights off. Strike two : you do and say what I do: Strike three: we're gonna make you suicidal I specialize in denying rights for high profits But big brother, or boss— What if my glove fits? The instance it does, We lock you up with no service, Your world becomes dark And your words become worthless Oh shit. This is not a good rap song. Like, at all. I must say, I do agree, You lose your trust, but silently Denied is all your trouble, Till it just begins to bubble up Until the cookie crumbles— See that feeling in your stomach? This is bigger than the money, girl — They want your soul, and then the world! I told you never call him. I didn't! Then explain this: [Skrillex] *sharp inward sigh* CUT IMMIDIATLEH TO STAN You know what! That's it! I don't care how handsome or rich and famous he is! This has to stop! KYLE Hey, wait just a minute— STAN SHUT UP KYLE. KYLE You shut up! STAN You're starting to sound just like him! KYLE Take that back! STAN I won't take it back! You all might have forgotten who you are, but I haven't!after of fact, I bet to Cartman, you're still that stupid little Jew kid! KYLE That's IT. KYLE takes out his phone. what are you doing? …I'm tweeting about this. I thought it was X now… It is, but you can't ‘x' anything, it's still calledl tweeting. I guess youre right. —and I'm tagging Cartman ! STAN Are you serious? Oh shit, this is social suicide. …did I ever explain this storyline? …I don't know, did i? I'd gotten so focused on this impending doom looming over me with this whole lawsuit that I'd forgotten entire worlds and whole documents. Even more terrifying, was the sudden quiet and the onset guilt that came over me for getting distracted. But I couldn't remove myself from it entirely—- it seemed to have ruined everything. It wasn't just motorcycle noises, it was like a nervousness and angst twisting in my stomach for months and months, until finally, as the court dates started approaching, it was peaceful, or rather, normal, all of a sudden. It couldn't be peaceful because now that the extreme noise was gone, I knew it had been planted all long— but what was the purpose? I'd lost two years not knowing, and though there were albums, they were never what I wanted. Now I was sorting through the documents of the show like it was the rubble of a decimated building— completely demolished, and I hadn't the slightest clue the contexts or the storylines anymore. It was pain and suffering, but not in the legal context. It was a creative disaster— I hadn't any idea in the slightest where I'd left my audience before I was forced to abandon them. But I was forced to choose, at times, between soap and toilet paper, or eventually, food, and water— or a phone. Eventually, this too became a pattern of the impossible— trying my hardest to do what I thought had been my purpose, but for far, being so endlessly sabotaged, even ridiculed and humiliated, and still, I couldn't understand why. I was tired— and somehow, even though I'd wanted to be left alone, I was the target. Worse was that I assumed it to be bigger than I thought and completely out of control— I thought immediately back to how my best friend from middle school had been attacked, and how she was made to think that it was me…to the point that she'd become obsessive about it to call my mom over it. And as far as the court was concerned, to the wrong ears or wrong eyes, anything I'd published in the festival project could look troublesome, like the ramblings of a mad mad, or schizo, or uncontrolled obsessive thoughts— because the biggest secrets of all, the things that tied together these fictional worlds and plots, were my own real life experience. The inability in a court of law to detail the podcast, which had started as meltdown some would call grandiose over an almost long forgotten rockstar and a porn model — and the entries into the festival project that followed, which included high concepts, off-kilter comedy, politics, and even fringed on social justice. Nothing I ever would have wanted and especially over money, but the lawsuit wasn't about money at all. In fact, at any moment I would have chosen to die and have it all stop if it weren't for my very young son being left alone. Though recently the dread had overcome with a sense of unbearable loss and agony, encrypted with suicidal thoughts and wants, reeling for human touch, the overbearing factor seemed to be that if I killed myself, I was giving someone what they wanted. I was really much too tired to go on, but leaving behind the world in entirety, in my very own way of beliefs wasn't just “shitutting it off”, it was starting it over. Understandably and undeniably immortal in its nature, the instances of God I had left spoke with a reminiscence of being born again, and having to remember which is it I'd wanted to start off. It was an unachievable overload of chaos and disruption, a level of corruption that spoke to something so dark and sinister it seemed biblical — then, again, I tried to wrap my mind around a way to rebuild a positive world from hope and thought, or manifest reality, but this is the very experience I'd felt was intended all along. The motorcycles weren't merely meant to destroy my career, or my will power, or force— they were, but also they were made to play upon my most valuable asset, the power of thought, to make it impossible to become something other than what was wanted; to use my own mind against itself and destroy my way of thought by using vibrations that could not be shut out, or stopped— they followed me to the sound collective, to Shakespeare in the park, the bank, the doctors office— it was as if they knew and understood my very thoughts, my process. It was of nothing at all to corrupt every single body and brain who would surround me or come close— by using the power that seemed supernatural enough, but indeed were powered by money, and technology. Perhaps, in this essence, I thought, was the purest display of defective intention itself; the mere thought that this indeed was rather Good Vs. Evil or God and The Devil would easily be written off as a diseased way of thought. The social world and constructs had been built around being open minded to a system of psychology that was intrinsically rather corrupt. I knew this could only be fought with what I knew, and what I could draw from as logic. I didn't want to go to court because I knew the people I would be fighting were liars, and well trained psychological masters of manipulation, well hidden terrorists dressed as public servants and systematic corrupters all for simple profit margins, to whom I was not so much a person or a mother, or a daughter, but a number. Because I was poor, and had once or four times chosen to love the wrong person in an unorthodox and uncontrollable form of torture, dismissing each and every social construct or physiology that was by the book, by embracing that there was a reason for change I quickly became quite the antagonist of sorts and hopefully not some sort of martyr —for the kind of people that had money and property, and perhaps even socially constructed circles to camoflage their own self doubt and hatred, but absolutely also had no morals. –Death of a Superstar DJ If I lose my mind At least I know I'm right on time This time— I meant that, I had it bad this time MCBADBAT I had it bad this time, And the last. Perchance for you, Hour or folded, Hair my weight And glassed upon thy, This upon now, Feathered waking, And there barely weathered Shaking. Dear, dear, Tis is fair truth, To fare that I have gasp And fated at thy doorstep; And yet, care to force, Her breaking waves and saving tinder, Fit there slithered in as yet astonished, Then another; And I hated. So, then, slower now. All there, gathered none. And show to show thy force What then became and withered after, None to bark or beg But birds and feathered creatures, pander The tides did Quake, And the heart did grow ten fold and steady saying None upon us but one left to shiver in the depths That yet remain as undiscovered For now never there was another world, Undone, And also another becomes, My death— And therefore all the worlds I kept, To travel on and travel As becomes one, does another onward As the first is glass to dust, And last is born there. So, Then, I, Crept, In my dress, Kept for clothes that church did water I, met, My mark and there the doors of shadows open Wilted and wake? Hear you; A star was born In other cosmos tied with our own nurture So, Kept, The weight of clasp and bone That holds the crept and precious alter Goddamn cat! Where are you. AAtticus Caaticus Oop. Gotta go. Toonces! Tooooonces! Where are you? Omg remember that one where that couple has a magic toddler and they just let him like,float away. Yeah, barely. Yeah. So I do. CUT TO: TOONCES focuses intently on the task at hand; he's sure he can manage to drive the human vehicle to his own home— to where he's assured he will find the actual body in which he belongs. Now… let's see, if I can just Wait, I who? ATTICUS CATTICUS, An ancient alien sorcerer must relay a series of important messages. Unfortunately. YO WHAT THE FUCK. None of them seem to be getting through. CUT BACK TO: TOONCEEESSSS. here kitty kitty kitty!! {Enter the Multiverse} I would dedicate, but honestly I've not time to waste And I'm craving wedding cake I hate to destroy you But for now, you know I can't employ you; This implies my eyes are also murder And I'm sure of her departure From another world, Perhaps across the border. Also, quite the dark sorcerer himself LORNE MICHAELS has well hidden himself under the guise of having become one of the most successful television producer of all times— And even in his own very small world, Nobody quite seems to know why. JIMMY FALLON Lorne, I have to tell you something. LORNE MICHAELS This had better be good, Jimmy, I've just made popcorn. [the festival project ™] Don't worry, for now, The risk remains hidden, As sure as an asset is an advantage, I can't have the classes counting Heads of cabbage as accomplishes, The masses are honestly astonished And impossible, but what was wrong with Boredom in the first place? Nonsense More words And still no dollars Hunger strike, And burning harder, California deficit, lack of bread, Heaven sent interventions and scissors, Mistresses, disasters and divorces But who says the whole story has to suffer? You're a surfer under water, Remember that when you finally catch your breath above the surface Can you clear her? He who? Back to work! Or back to the future! My super brain is dead but I think I'm next I think heaven swallows whole the blooded laugher From the constructs I've come from. Remember that. Remember not to fall from too far up, God would give you wings With time to spare Before you ever wondered where Your mark was On the plaza Don't let me up to the very top. I will at the very least Best scenario jump off And rid the world myself, Just for a dozen donuts over Crossing hearts and Hollywood And Griffith park To also soft my foot Upon red carpets. You ever shave your armpits!? …no. Hm. Catholic. Of course. Get in. Destination. —Rotterdam. You idiot. I made it. Whatever, get in the boat. DI NERO Give her your shirt. What. Your shirt. Why my shirt. Just— Fine. Here. [he hands over his shirt— in an instant, the woman becomes an exact REPLICA.] …my shirt. Relax. Nothing's gonna happen to it. Okay? —in fact, you're still wearing it. Alright! She's right, Jimmy, relax. I can't, that's— It's simple. There is nothing simple about this whatsoever. You're right. It's not, so get over it. [The Festival Project ™] BILL MURRAY There's a compartment at the end of the left corridor— Alright. In that hatch, there's a chamber. Okay, what'll I do? You'll open it? How? I'll tell you how, just get there. Suddenly, a barrier falls; it appears as though there are booby traps set here. Uh— that might be a problem. There might be a few of them. What just happened? Booby traps. —ah, I know what you're talking. Those aren't booby traps— they're Bobby Traps. What in the Hell are you talking about? For whatever reason Jimmy Kimmel Is important Now I'm scared of him, I know he knows the devil Come to think of it, Might even be an advocate Have an avocado But don't know the half of it These are, as it stands Comes what may Special circumstances I could circumvent an intervention, Never second chances I've been setting rat traps, Trapeze artists, Bampheramph camp, And also trampolines over the plaza That seems dangerous. Yeah. AHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Damn. Know it's plausible, That I also am an alcoholic, Though dysfunctional, Professional, And underrepresented So I stand myself, Let's just say pro-se if you will I could add Prozac to my snacks But I'll be delayed, if you still Don't get my messages I'm sick of having heart attacks; A hard advantage I was looking back on “fully packaged” A six pack of abs And nothing left to eat but cabbage, Haven't had a mouth, But I've been counting on my ass To get me back up north, I'm coming from the South Out West, there's a word for that At best, you're a four and a half My body double stunts and stumbles Struts at nothing Struck before the one, And so between high noon and Somewhere around 30 in I'm never turning 30, 30 Rock is in the wind— So count that up, That's what my income is. That's what they said? “Too late, you've been betrayed” If that's how it is, Then I request “beheaded” You know your mother says That ugly face just becomes permanent If you keep making it, And so I did, The second that it ended I'm Trying so hard Just to be What they want That it hurts Just to stop And relax For a moment INT. THE LAIR. NIGHT What is this? Where am I? You're— Alive. Why? …I changed my mind. You're not ugly You're just not mine I changed my mind I changed my life around. I skip line after line, But the message ain't right, I have time a chance No challenge accepted No exceptions or Expectations Expand this racism vocabulary Set the rat traps back To February Stamp the weather's getting Better with the postage clearing Abstr– My cat is so cute I can't stand him; But he's pretty bad, That my only friend; Animal. I blacklisted deadmau5, And my whole set sucked. Presently, however I'm a peasant Plucking pheasant feathers Guess I– pppftt. Like it never even happened But I'm sure we're all to war, Like a fear I never grasp it, What's l before, uncertain of your l words— My dear, were tattered and the masters heavy handed, Oh, my dear, we're marching on a battered Wit, to all your fan mail I tel you, I was I tortured, Let me show you And also, No one forced my hand at magic, Questioned prestidigitation, Or went back to every second, Land you think you owned as time In fact, my crucial very hard earned gossip column Asks the reader to reform his or her thought Before a judgement can be made How fascinating. The bag says ‘poems' so I wrote one, But I'm sure since my marker's toggled on I'm being stalked, It's like a magnet, Punch the clock And here they pour into the coffin So I won't be pouring coffee for the puffin; Maybe someday I'll look back at this as all I ever wanted, But for now it's just a horror show, Where I belong the murder— Yet a thriller, Best, The audience is captivated, Yes This is evasive, Cause I can't been captured yet By either masses or Mass murderers. At last, a cadence comes clean of its Breaking waves and rhythms, Tides and ties, Becomes another— Then, I'm whisked away Not back to slumber, but of subtle thoughts Of Californian water Lapping up across our surfboards; I often wear them tides, The undertow As pull of greater waves I sit aside as all that passes [The Festival Project ™] When I see Calvin Klein, I think of you; Not what you used to be But turned in to So it's mutual— Pay attention, fool As does moss grow on a rock And this to you— It is unfortunate, my dear You miss with every twist, Adjustment of attention span, The glances I foreshadowed (Here you are, inside your past) It's just affective of the effect, You've been levitating, Yes, I find it devastating Every second kept is just a fortune But you pause before you post— You reap before you even think Of what you sow, You don't belong, Agast, (True) Set the tone, Classless, But I'm Art, you are a Daunting folk song, Mistletoe and marker. CAMERA ASSISTANT Marker. …what is this for again? CAMERA ASSISTANT (Annoyed, mumbling) Shut up. Ten minutes passes and still, I'm awake But the tragedy of the mistake has just set in, I'm sure I've been tortured, I'm paid in mistakes, but I'd rather be shattered with Mortimer's curse. To the tune of Ten by ten by ten I will never be lover, nor friend in the end. {Enter The Multiverse] DRAKE concentrates heavily on a very long , seemingly very angry message— a frowning face plastered as he writes that is so noteworthy, it catches the attention of many a passerby— still this focus unwatered, as he bashes heavily away at the text message with the thumbs of fury for over 30 minutes while sitting at a booth in a well-loved pancake restaurant. As a tall stack of pancakes is served before him, and he, still unbreaking this angry texting streak or eye contact with his phone sits before them, history is made in what internet culture has now deemed as “the most meme worthy face in history” The world wonders what he could possibly be writing— and more importantly—-who he could be texting. Tears come to his eyes but do not fall as he raises his thumb with reserve, to finally press [RETURN.] CUT TO: SUNNI BLU receives a text amidst a wild party. Almost without so much as a reaction, SUNNI BLU pings the message to a projector and cuts off the lights, and music. A VERY LONG, ANGRY TEXT is projected on the wall. I slept from 10-2 There was nothing else to do My name is Devin DeLouise And I am not supposed to know these things Seven are dead and three are left I know what's next I'm also often known as And referred to as coyote ugly; Suffering a tantra wall, Yo, you son of a bitch! You dirty, dirty son of a bitch. I must admit, I had a lot to do with this… I had no part in it! Relax… soon enough, the both of your realize— this is how the unimaginable gets written. [he loads the polished sterling silver pistol and glamours over it] You have our memory. —all memory. And as soon as it ends, before it can begin again. The slate is wiped clean. Good riddance. “A Different Kind of Monologue” Is this what you wanted? Ooh— you should try me! I wish you would try me! Try me! I wish you would. Be calm, Grand Master. This will all be over momentarily. What's going on. Deprivation chamber. Crypt? —Encrypted? A lockup. Ah. Thought so. That ought to show us what he's really made up. We can all hope. [he pounds on the glass, the one way mirror acts as a camera which the maj aresses, rabid and wi the anger of a dangerous animal, both we, n audience, and the small group of men gathered a the other side of the room. This could be the basis of a lot of lawsuits. So now I have your tears and agony A wilted throne and wand Which which would grant a wish of comedy, And therefore ever after, Not pain and guilt, but laughter So heavy is the hat that acts as crown, And so foolish is the King to think ‘imself as not one, Creaks the crow and also of the feathered guilt that follows, I Kept and bashful, wishing not the show as throne but sorrow, Kept to wick and wake and bones to shatter from tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Do you fear us? …do you wish to be feared? What of us? I seek to cause the wish that stands as though you may as granted. So shallow, fair child. And brother and my son also. Gross! Stop. You are weird! Dude, you are fucked. In the withdraw, my shadows and darkness Are there always, never resting Stories and gathered images, Visions of betrayal and archaic wants. In time, I've abandoned them all and betraying that which I've lost, For I know, and not ponder on That I shall never know love, As all standing tal over me Have eyes; And all I want Knows not what hides under my ugly. Alright. I followed your spiral, downward, and down wind and down wood, Into a place where I also aspired to show your mark Upon my rotted corpse or coarse crossifix; Sure worded and down trodden. Now, worse, I'm also sworn To mourn all my own losses, Kind folk. Kind hearted and now my eyes also sudden to wander— And there goes my miles and triumphs And morals and war songs, And sure, swallowed the barrel of a gun But also departed with honor, I tell I. Glimpses of wither and winter and whittling pain, And I slither my back to the center of All I am, in this, and shadows, Fairtails, And grains of rice and sand to twist away Into the rain as I lay dying. What a fortunate! Don't make my mark up and out, few for short times, Aye, conspire to warthog, Remember so force your spirit onto ours, And shake, sandbox! There aiming at you were the snakes of six liars, And the stakes of empires lost and won over, Also one solemn subtle Star of David Worn upon the neck of six monks, Ragtime Six popes, pass I; Six fathers and streaks solemn and Care tan teared salamander, Having weight and wake to cheer For our slaughter. Then, you, Having gained and also lost should reap to sow, What you'd have wanted; Though the tongue so convexed having way to guild your complex, Shaking as I hunger fruit that not but hangs Before l wanted I know, I could knot be consoled I know, I could not be consoled I know I could not be consolidated either Bought, or purchased I know I'm not consoled at all, I know I'm not confirmed at all I know, I know I'm not confronted, nor immortal — but your glorified affliction. Poor infinity. Of poverty, perhaps, but never poor at all. For your were warned of all the doors as opened at your calling. Not to walk though, But to ponder at them, wondering. he's gone Maybe I should go Too Heavy weight hanging on my Shoulders I'm just star struck I don't know You I don't really like saying What I go through Talk an hour, Fake it All day show Monologue Improvisation Now i'm on a roll, But my thoughts got darker I like adderall and a real smooth talker I like a husband-father , Doctor, Actor, Tall and handsome, Doesn't matter I'm alone, so i feel hopeless Aggie's gone, So i might as well go though Oh– She's gone ((I think i'm past my time)) I think i should go to She's gone (so long) Right on, man I might as well go to It's been a long time, Gotta turn my light off, Overtime, That's a long ball game Season's over; On my back in the middle of the ball court She's gone, So i might as well go too. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025 The Festival Project, Inc. ™ All rights reserved. Chroma111. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025. [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights reserved. UNAUTHORIZED REPRODUCTION OR DISTRIBUTION IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED BY LAW. INFRIGMENT IS PUNSHABLE BY FEDERAL LAW LEGAL NOTICE / ARTIST STATEMENT Project: The Festival Project ™ (Season 12) Genre: Speculative Auto-Ethnography / Social Surrealism Disclaimer: This document is a work of creative non-fiction and political satire. While inspired by the author's lived experiences with systemic oppression, housing displacement, and surveillance, the narrative employs stylized fragmentation, stream-of-consciousness, and metaphor to dramatize the psychological impact of these events. The "characters" and "dialogue" herein are artistic devices used to critique historical and modern power structures. This text should be viewed as a performative artistic expression protected under the First Amendment, and not as a literal transcript of clinical psychosis or a formal sworn affidavit. This is a character study of 'Chroma111,' the collective artworks of a musician living in a dystopian surveillance state. The erratic language is a stylistic choice to represent the character's psychological deterioration under systemic oppression. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Genre: "Afro-Surrealism" / "Social Horror" "Psycho-Acoustic Weaponry" or "Havana Syndrome symptoms." The Frame: The protagonist is subjected to "noise harassment"—a tactic dramatized here but rooted in the known reality of tenant displacement and "psychological attrition." The narrative depicts a process of "Soul Murder" ( also known as spiritual warfare) orchestrated by a hostile apparatus. The antagonist is "The Institution," representing deep-state mechanisms that view multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story allegorically dramatizes the invisible mechanisms that enforce racial hierarchy, depicting how broken social systems weaponize psychological practices against the individual. Artist's Note: This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as an artistic testament to the psychological siege endured from to 2023-2025. It is a creative record of survival against a hostile state architecture. The following is a creative non-fiction horror manifesto regarding the psychological assassination of a multicultural American artist. It documents—through the lens of Afro-Surrealism—how modern surveillance technology and sonic harassment are experienced by the targeted individual. As it stands It has become a modern sequel which mirrors the civil rights struggles of the 1960s, set in the present day. "The protagonist is being subjected to 'noise harassment'—a known tactic used by landlords and corrupt entities to displace tenants. The sound is weaponized to induce sleep deprivation and psychological attrition, dismantling of their ego and will to live, orchestrated by a hostile state apparatus. The antagonist in this piece is 'The Institution'—a deep state that views multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story dramatizes over time the invisible mechanisms (the 'Deep State') that enforce racial hierarchy and and psychological genocide, weaponizing broken social systems and unfounded psychological practices as biological weapons. This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as evidence of the psychological siege endured from 2023-2025. It is a transcript of survival against a hostile state architecture. This project spans an unlimited multiprojectoral arc of over two years of chronic violence, reaching into historical and theatrical projections and parallels over the all documented records of human existence through time and space.

This week, the Krewe is joined by Loretta Scott (aka KemushiChan on YouTube Channel) for a personal, insightful, and often funny look at what it's like raising kids in Japan as an American parent. We dig into birth experiences, cultural differences from the U.S., unexpected parenting moments, and tips for families living in or visiting Japan. Curious about family life abroad or considering a trip to Japan with the munchkins? This episode is packed with helpful insight just for you!------ About the Krewe ------The Krewe of Japan Podcast is a weekly episodic podcast sponsored by the Japan Society of New Orleans. Check them out every Friday afternoon around noon CST on Apple, Google, Spotify, Amazon, Stitcher, or wherever you get your podcasts.  Want to share your experiences with the Krewe? Or perhaps you have ideas for episodes, feedback, comments, or questions? Let the Krewe know by e-mail at kreweofjapanpodcast@gmail.com or on social media (Twitter: @kreweofjapan, Instagram: @kreweofjapanpodcast, Facebook: Krewe of Japan Podcast Page, TikTok: @kreweofjapanpodcast, LinkedIn: Krewe of Japan LinkedIn Page, Blue Sky Social: @kreweofjapan.bsky.social, & the Krewe of Japan Youtube Channel). Until next time, enjoy!------ Support the Krewe! Offer Links for Affiliates ------Use the referral links below!Zencastr Offer Link - Use my special link to save 30% off your 1st month of any Zencastr paid plan! ------ Links for Tobias Harris ------Loretta on InstagramKemushiChan YouTube Channel------ Past Language Learning Episodes ------Inside Japanese Language Schools ft. Langston Hill (S6E3)Japanese Self-Study Strategies ft. Walden Perry (S5E4)Learn the Kansai Dialect ft. Tyson of Nihongo Hongo (S4E14)Heisig Method ft. Dr. James Heisig (S4E5)Prepping for the JLPT ft. Loretta of KemushiCan (S3E16)Language Through Video Games ft. Matt of Game Gengo (S3E4)Pitch Accent (Part 2) ft. Dogen (S2E15)Pitch Accent (Part 1) ft. Dogen (S2E14)Language through Literature ft. Daniel Morales (S2E8)Immersion Learning ft. MattvsJapan (S1E10)Japanese Language Journeys ft. Saeko-Sensei (S1E4)------ JSNO Upcoming Events ------JSNO Event CalendarJoin JSNO Today!

Quake discusses Drake & UMG scheduling mediation for defamation appeal, prosecutors firing back at Lil Durk's request to remove judge, Diddy facing new sexual battery investigation, 6IX9INE's home getting robbed, Wale recalling venting to J. Cole before “False Prophets” dropped, Spotify acquiring WhoSampled, Drake's interview on Complex and much more.(00:00) - Intro(03:43) - Drake & UMG Have Scheduled Mediation For Defamation Appeal(05:06) - Prosecutors Fire Back At Lil Durk's Request To Remove Judge(06:48) - Diddy Faces New Sexual Battery Investigation In Los Angeles(09:00) - 6IX9INE's Home Gets Robbed, Mother Gets Hurt(16:37) - 6IX9INE Requests Sentencing Delay After Armed Home Invasion(19:20) - Wale Recalls Venting To J. Cole Before “False Prophets” Dropped(27:15) - Spotify Acquires WhoSampled And Changes Are Coming(34:33) - Drake Interview On Complex, Talks About ICEMAN Album & Rollout(41:51) - Billboard Hot 100

Nine years post-Quake—based on the Changing Earth Series novels by Sara F. Hathaway—Erika unearths buried betrayals in the federal system's shadows, her savior legend blazing brighter before the northern board... but at what hidden cost? TJ confronts wavering loyalties and a junky's haze that tests his inner circle, while Virgis forges silent safeguards for forces and family amid brewing storms. What lost right haunts the chains—and who will pay to reclaim it? A themed pulse-racer of historical unveiling and fractured allegiances in audio drama form.Stream now at authorsarafhathaway.com/season-3—unveil the foundations before shadows claim them. Grab merch at changingearthseries.com. Runtime: 45 min | Rated: Mature (Tension, Peril) | #PostQuakeSaga #AudioDramaAddictGet Prepared with Our Incredible Sponsors! Survival Bags, kits, gear www.limatangosurvival.comEMP Proof Shipping Containers www.fardaycontainers.comThe Prepper's Medical Handbook Build Your Medical Cache – Welcome PBN FamilyPack Fresh USA www.packfreshusa.comSupport PBN with a Donation https://bit.ly/3SICxEq

If you've been watching AI tools race into marketing and tech, but aren't sure what's hype and what's actually useful, this episode is for you.  Mod Op's Head of Technology in Calgary, Derek McBurney, unpacks how generative AI, code assistants and “vibe coding” are really changing the way digital experiences get built. He explains in plain language what AI code assistants actually do, when they genuinely speed teams up and when they quietly introduce bugs, tech debt or just plain slop. You'll hear concrete examples of using AI to handle tedious work—like transforming messy spreadsheets—so developers can spend more time on the creative, pixel-perfect experiences that matter most to customers. Derek also digs into how no-code and vibe-code tools are empowering marketers, designers and non-dev teammates to prototype real concepts quickly, without replacing the need for strong engineering fundamentals. Throughout the conversation, Derek keeps coming back to two big themes: ambition and responsibility. He shares practical guidance for CMOs and marketing leaders on setting guardrails, protecting proprietary code, avoiding skill erosion and deciding when to build vs buy in an AI-driven world. Leader Generation is hosted by Tessa Burg and brought to you by Mod Op.  About Derek McBurney: Derek is the Head of Technology at Evans Hunt, focusing on delivering meaningful digital experiences and sharing his knowledge about building the web for humans. He's been building websites ever since he first got online. At the age of 12, it was a fan site for the game Quake, with nothing more than a text editor to create some HTML. Now? Clients like Travel Alberta, Calgary Stampede, and Brookfield Residential, which compose builds using best-in-class technologies for performance, accessibility, and intuitive authoring to power beautiful and rich experiences.  About Tessa Burg: Tessa is the Chief Technology Officer at Mod Op and Host of the Leader Generation podcast. She has led both technology and marketing teams for 15+ years. Tessa initiated and now leads Mod Op's AI/ML Pilot Team, AI Council and Innovation Pipeline. She started her career in IT and development before following her love for data and strategy into digital marketing. Tessa has held roles on both the consulting and client sides of the business for domestic and international brands, including American Greetings, Amazon, Nestlé, Anlene, Moen and many more. Tessa can be reached on LinkedIn or at Tessa.Burg@ModOp.com.

Quake discusses Lil Durk trying to get the judge removed from case over alleged threats, Drake doubling down on UMG claims in “Not Like Us” appeal statement, Biggie's Estate suing publicist over allegations involving his son & Diddy, Wale calling out Ebro for past criticism of Lil Uzi Vert's career, 50 Cent laughing at Starz's $53 Million losses after his exit, Drake being crowned third biggest songwriter of the century on Billboard Hot 100, Kodak Black launching his own crypto coin, Kendrick Lamar & SZA shattering Hip-Hop tour record and much more.(00:00) - Intro(06:01) - Lil Durk Wants Judge Removed From Case Over Alleged Threats(08:40) - Drake Doubles Down On UMG Claims In “Not Like Us” Appeal Statement(19:15) - Biggie's Estate Sues Publicist Over Allegations Involving His Son & Diddy(21:52) - Wale Calls Out Ebro For Past Criticism Of Lil Uzi Vert's Career(37:09) - 50 Cent Laughs At Starz's $53 Million Losses After His Exit(41:13) - Drake Crowned Third Biggest Songwriter Of The Century On Billboard Hot 100(51:06) - NBA YoungBoy Responds To NLE Choppa Diss With “Zero IQ Freestyle”(54:05) - Kodak Black Launches Own Crypto Coin(01:05:37) - Kendrick Lamar & SZA Shatter Hip-Hop Tour Record(01:13:18) - New Music(01:13:47) - Album Sales

Japan's political scene is changing—from new parties rising in visibility to historic moments in national leadership—so the Krewe is bringing you a timely crash course. Political analyst Tobias Harris (Founder & Principal of Japan Foresight) joins the pod to break down the foundations of Japan's government system, how it compares to the U.S., and why voters view politics the way they do. We explore the major and emerging parties shaping the landscape, the issues driving debate today, and how international pressures and global events influence domestic policy. Tobias also sheds light on the media's role in shaping public perception and political accountability.------ About the Krewe ------The Krewe of Japan Podcast is a weekly episodic podcast sponsored by the Japan Society of New Orleans. Check them out every Friday afternoon around noon CST on Apple, Google, Spotify, Amazon, Stitcher, or wherever you get your podcasts.  Want to share your experiences with the Krewe? Or perhaps you have ideas for episodes, feedback, comments, or questions? Let the Krewe know by e-mail at kreweofjapanpodcast@gmail.com or on social media (Twitter: @kreweofjapan, Instagram: @kreweofjapanpodcast, Facebook: Krewe of Japan Podcast Page, TikTok: @kreweofjapanpodcast, LinkedIn: Krewe of Japan LinkedIn Page, Blue Sky Social: @kreweofjapan.bsky.social, & the Krewe of Japan Youtube Channel). Until next time, enjoy!------ Support the Krewe! Offer Links for Affiliates ------Use the referral links below!Zencastr Offer Link - Use my special link to save 30% off your 1st month of any Zencastr paid plan! ------ Links for Tobias Harris ------Japan ForesightObserving Japan on SubstackThe Iconoclast on AmazonTobias Harris on BlueSky------ Past History/Society Episodes ------The Castles of Japan ft. William de Lange S5E19)Foreign-Born Samurai: William Adams ft. Nathan Ledbetter (Guest Host, Dr. Samantha Perez) (S5E17)Foreign-Born Samurai: Yasuke ft. Nathan Ledbetter (Guest Host, Dr. Samantha Perez) (S5E16)Change in Urban & Rural Japanese Communities ft. Azby Brown (S5E15)Inside Japanese Homes & Architecture ft. Azby Brown (S5E6)Kendo: The Way of the Sword ft. Alexander Bennett, 7th Dan in Kendo (S4E16)Jokichi Takamine: The Earliest Bridge Between New Orleans & Japan ft. Stephen Lyman (S4E13)The Chrysanthemum Throne ft. Dr. Hiromu Nagahara [Part 2] (S2E18)The Chrysanthemum Throne ft. Dr. Hiromu Nagahara [Part 1] (S2E17)The Age of Lady Samurai ft. Tomoko Kitagawa (S1E12)------ JSNO Upcoming Events ------JSNO Event CalendarJoin JSNO Today!

Quake discusses Diddy joining a drug program that could help reduce his sentence, Lil Durk's crew getting accused of threatening judge and prosecutors, Akon getting arrested on outstanding warrant, Tory Lanez's appeal getting rejected in Megan Thee Stallion case, B.o.B. facing sexual assault allegation in new lawsuit, Ja Rule saying his music aged better than 50 Cent's and much more.(00:00) - Intro(01:39) - Diddy Joins Drug Program That Could Help Reduce His Sentence(12:03) - Lil Durk's Crew Accused Of Threatening Judge And Prosecutors(13:43) - Akon Arrested On Outstanding Warrant(16:35) - Tory Lanez's Appeal Rejected In Megan Thee Stallion Case(18:49) - B.o.B. Faces Sexual Assault Allegation In New Lawsuit(22:39) - Ja Rule Says His Music Aged Better Than 50 Cent's, Quake Explains Why That's Not True(44:25) - Billboard Hot 100

Today on the Geezers Of Gear Podcast, we're excited to welcome back Tim “Quake” Mark — a legendary Front of House engineer, production manager, and tour manager with over 40 years in the music industry. Quake has worked with some of rock's biggest names, including Slash featuring Myles Kennedy & the Conspirators, Stone Temple Pilots, Goo Goo Dolls, Jack's Mannequin, Tracy Chapman, and Jane's Addiction.His career spans thousands of shows across theaters, arenas, stadiums, and festivals worldwide, mastering FOH sound, tour logistics, and full-scale production. Along the way, he's survived multiple bus and plane incidents, on-the-road emergencies, and serious health challenges, earning the respect of artists and crews alike.Beyond touring, Quake is the founder of Workshop Management and High Concept Sync Co., a partner at Sad Summer Festival, and a Touring Sales Consultant for Video West, helping shape the future of live production. Known for his expertise, grit, and passion, Tim “Quake” Mark is a true icon in live entertainment.In this conversation, Tim "Quake" Mark shares his health journey, including his experience with nephrotic syndrome and the impact of new medications on his life. He reflects on his career in the sound engineering industry, discussing the importance of mentorship, training, and personal connections. The conversation also touches on the value of happiness over wealth, the challenges of aging, and the lessons learned throughout his life and career.This Episode is brought to you by ETC and Artistry In Motiion

Quake discusses Max B finally being free from prison, Diddy reportedly getting caught drinking in prison, Clipse deny dissing other rappers for clout, DJ Vlad filing a lawsuit against Joyner Lucas and Joyner responds, MGK dissing Eminem in new leaked track, Eminem matching Drake & Travis Scott's massive Spotify achievements and much more.(00:00) - Intro(10:10) - Max B Is Finally Free From Prison(13:45) - Diddy Reportedly Caught Drinking In Prison(18:27) - Clipse Deny Dissing Kanye West, Travis Scott and Others For Clout(20:24) - Travis Scott Disses Pusha T During His Japan Concert With Kanye West(21:58) - DJ Vlad Files Lawsuit Against Joyner Lucas, Joyner Responds(35:37) - MGK Disses Eminem In New Leaked Track(44:24) - Eminem Matches Drake & Travis Scott's Massive Spotify Achievements(49:20) - Grammy Nominations(57:35) - New Music(58:05) - Album Sales

Step into the world of tokusatsu with Ultraman Max director Takeshi Yagi! The Krewe chats with Yagi-san about the artistry, imagination, and behind-the-scenes magic that bring Ultraman and Japan's iconic heroes & monsters to life. Discover how tokusatsu continues to inspire fans around the world.------ About the Krewe ------The Krewe of Japan Podcast is a weekly episodic podcast sponsored by the Japan Society of New Orleans. Check them out every Friday afternoon around noon CST on Apple, Google, Spotify, Amazon, Stitcher, or wherever you get your podcasts.  Want to share your experiences with the Krewe? Or perhaps you have ideas for episodes, feedback, comments, or questions? Let the Krewe know by e-mail at kreweofjapanpodcast@gmail.com or on social media (Twitter: @kreweofjapan, Instagram: @kreweofjapanpodcast, Facebook: Krewe of Japan Podcast Page, TikTok: @kreweofjapanpodcast, LinkedIn: Krewe of Japan LinkedIn Page, Blue Sky Social: @kreweofjapan.bsky.social, & the Krewe of Japan Youtube Channel). Until next time, enjoy!------ Support the Krewe! Offer Links for Affiliates ------Use the referral links below!Zencastr Offer Link - Use my special link to save 30% off your 1st month of any Zencastr paid plan! ------ Links for Takeshi Yagi ------Takeshi Yagi on InstagramTakeshi Yagi on X/TwitterTakeshi Yagi's WebsiteTakeshi Yagi's Blog (JP)Takeshi Yagi's New Book (Releasing Nov 19, 2025)Wikizilla Page on AKARI------ Past Tokusatsu/Pop Culture Episodes ------Enjoying Shojo Anime & Manga ft. Taryn of Manga Lela (S5E18)Akira Toriyama: Legacy of a Legend ft. Matt Alt (S5E3)The History & Evolution of Godzilla ft. Dr. William (Bill) Tsutsui (S5E1)Thoughts on Godzilla Minus One ft. Dr. William (Bill) Tsutsui (S4Bonus)The History of Nintendo ft. Matt Alt (S4E18)Japanese Mascot Mania ft. Chris Carlier of Mondo Mascots (S4E8)Tokusatsu Talk with a Super Sentai ft. Sotaro Yasuda aka GekiChopper (S4E6)The Evolution of PokéMania ft Daniel Dockery [Part 2] (S4E3)The Evolution of PokéMania ft Daniel Dockery [Part 1] (S4E2)Japanese Independent Film Industry ft. Award Winning Director Eiji Uchida (S3E18)How Marvel Comics Changed Tokusatsu & Japan Forever ft Gene & Ted Pelc (Guest Host, Matt Alt) (S3E13)Talking Shonen Anime Series ft. Kyle Hebert (S3E10)Japanese Arcades (S2E16)How to Watch Anime: Subbed vs. Dubbed ft. Dan Woren (S2E9)Manga: Literature & An Art Form ft. Danica Davidson (S2E3)The Fantastical World of Studio Ghibli ft. Steve Alpert (S2E1)The Greatest Anime of All Time Pt. 3: Modern Day Anime  (2010's-Present) (S1E18)The Greatest Anime of All Time Pt. 2: The Golden Age  (1990's-2010's) (S1E16)The Greatest Anime of All Time Pt. 1: Nostalgia (60's-80's) (S1E5)We Love Pokemon: Celebrating 25 Years (S1E3)Why Japan ft. Matt Alt (S1E1)------ JSNO Upcoming Events ------JSNO Event CalendarJoin JSNO Today!

Quake discusses Busta Rhymes' ex-assistant firing back at his defamation lawsuit, Russell Simmons finally paying sexual misconduct settlements, Benny The Butcher returning fire at Freddie Gibbs by mocking robbery, ASAP Rocky getting sued for allegedly destroying neighbor's condo, the Drake & Spotify fake streams lawsuit, Big L's “Harlem's Finest: Return of the King” album review and much more.(00:00) - Intro(12:51) - Busta Rhymes' Ex-Assistant Fires Back At His Defamation Lawsuit(14:43) - Russell Simmons Finally Pays Sexual Misconduct Settlements(20:32) - Benny The Butcher Returns Fire At Freddie Gibbs By Mocking Robbery(21:52) - ASAP Rocky Sued For Allegedly Destroying Neighbor's Condo(24:02) - The Drake & Spotify Fake Streams Lawsuit Breakdown(44:46) - Big L - “Harlem's Finest: Return of the King” Album Review(01:01:21) - Billboard Hot 100

A month after fearing for her family's safety during a powerful earthquake in Cebu, Sydney resident Mariza Sollano faces 'new anxiety' as Typhoon Tino devastates the province, leaving at least 46 dead across the Philippines. - Isang buwan matapos ang kanyang pangamba sa kaligtasan ng pamilya sa Cebu dahil sa 6.9 magnitude na lindol, muling nabalot ng takot si Mariza Sollano, isang Pilipina sa Sydney, matapos manalasa ang Bagyong Tino na kumitil ng hindi bababa sa 46 na buhay sa bansa.

A deadly 6.3 magnitude earthquake strikes Afghanistan, A man is charged with 11 attempted murders in a U.K. train attack, Iran vows to rebuild its nuclear sites, A Mexican mayor is shot and killed during the Day of the Dead festival, The BBC claims China threatened a U.K. university over Uyghur research, President Trump instructs the Pentagon to prepare for “possible action” in Nigeria, Trump's planned nuclear tests will reportedly be 'noncritical explosions', 21 states are among those suing the Trump administration over student loan forgiveness rules, France rejects a wealth tax and approves a holding company levy, Eliezer Yudkowsky critiques OpenAI's stated goals, and the LA Dodgers are MLB champions after an epic World Series. Sources: www.verity.news

Quake discusses B.G. revealing why Lil Wayne wasn't on Cash Money & No Limit VERZUZ, Foolio murder suspect being found guilty on lesser charges, Drake, Adin Ross and Stake facing second lawsuit in New Mexico, Eminem's publisher slamming Meta amid copyright battle, Turk getting hit with $12 Million lawsuit for allegedly sabotaging Cash Money tour, Freddie Gibbs clowning Benny The Butcher's Walmart shooting after diss, The Game getting mad at Quake for talking about his album sales and much more.(00:00) - Intro(04:13) - B.G. Reveals Why Lil Wayne Wasn't On Cash Money & No Limit VERZUZ(11:35) - Foolio Murder Suspect Found Guilty On Lesser Charges(15:41) - Drake, Adin Ross and Stake Facing Second Lawsuit In New Mexico(19:09) - Eminem's Publisher Slams Meta Amid Copyright Battle(23:04) - Turk Hit With $12 Million Lawsuit For Allegedly Sabotaging Cash Money Tour(25:46) - NBA YoungBoy On Pace For One Of The Best Grossing Rap Tours(31:45) - Freddie Gibbs Clowns Benny The Butcher's Walmart Shooting After Diss(33:39) - Royce Da 5'9 Reveals He Was Dealing With Health Issue Where He Couldn't Talk(37:27) - The Game Gets Mad At Quake For Talking About His Album Sales(57:31) - Lloyd Banks “Halloween Havoc 6” Album Review(01:11:24) - New Music(01:11:57) - Album Sales

Today's headlines include: Parliament has passed legislation to protect employer-funded paid leave for parents experiencing the stillbirth or death of a child. National property prices have risen at their fastest pace in more than two years, according to the latest Cotality data. At least 10 people are dead and hundreds are feared injured after a 6.3 magnitude earthquake struck northern Afghanistan. And today’s good news: Two messages in a bottle by WWI soldiers have washed up in Western Australia, more than a century after they were written. Hosts: Emma Gillespie and Lucy TassellProducer: Emma Gillespie Want to support The Daily Aus? That's so kind! The best way to do that is to click ‘follow’ on Spotify or Apple and to leave us a five-star review. We would be so grateful. The Daily Aus is a media company focused on delivering accessible and digestible news to young people. We are completely independent. Want more from TDA?Subscribe to The Daily Aus newsletterSubscribe to The Daily Aus’ YouTube Channel Have feedback for us?We’re always looking for new ways to improve what we do. If you’ve got feedback, we’re all ears. Tell us here.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Spieleveteranen-Episode #424 (45-2025) Besetzung: Heinrich Lenhardt und Jörg Langer Aufnahmedatum: 30.10.2025 Laufzeit: 2:12:58 Stunden (0:00:15 News & Smalltalk – 0:44:48 Zeitschriften-Zeitreise) Auch wenn die Zeit die lästige Angewohnheit hat, unaufhaltsam voranzuschreiten, vergessen wir die Spielethemen der Vergangenheit nicht. Wir blättern und klicken nach, worüber Fachmagazine vor 10, 20, 30 und 40 Jahren berichteten. Dabei gibt es so manches emotionale Wiedersehen und Erinnerungen an den Redaktionsbetrieb. Zum Beispiel schnallen wir 2015 zum (mindestens) vierten Mal den Pip-Boy an, ergründen 2005 den Kultstatus des (mindestens) vierten Teils einer Strategieserie und  finden 1995 auch mal eine Wertung, die etwas wurmt. Beim Bonussegment im Feed für Patreon-Unterstützer kehren wir außerdem in die Loipen von 1985 zurück und erinnern uns an einen digitalen C64-Untermieter. Die Gegenwart wird auch nicht völlig verdrängt, zu Beginn der Sendung diskutieren wir aktuelle News, frische Spielerlebnisse und anregende Hörerpost. Unterstützt die Spieleveteranen und hört das volle Programm: https://www.patreon.com/spieleveteranen 00:15 News & Smalltalk 01:37 Gemischte News: Neue Editionen von Fallout: New Vegas und Fallout 4 angekündigt, Halo: Campaign Evolved kommt auch für Playstation, Master Chief wird für politische Propaganda instrumentalisiert, Scarface muss noch ein Wort mit den Anwälten reden. 18:18 Zuletzt gespielt: Death by Scrolling, Keeper und die Spiele des TheC64 Mini – Black Edition. 34:13 Hörerpost von Florian Reinhardt und Tasmanius. 44:48 Zeitschriften-Zeitreise: November 2015, 2005, 1995 46:12 GamersGlobal und GameStar 12/2015, u.a. mit Fallout 4, Halo 5: Guardians und Anno 2205. 1:11:38 GameStar 12/2005, u.a. mit Quake 4, Age of Empires 3 und Civilization 4. 1:38:01 PC Player 12/1995, u.a. mit Sensible World of Soccer, Heroes of Might&Magic und Worms. 2:10:32 Abspann.

Quake discusses a confidential witness alleging Lil Durk ordered hits on six people, and the Feds failing to find anything incriminating on his iCloud, Drake launching appeal to resurrect UMG “Not Like Us” lawsuit, and he's hit with lawsuit for gambling promo along with Adin Ross & Stake, Cam'ron hitting J. Cole with lawsuit over their collab “Ready 24”, 50 Cent clowning Lil Meech for losing his “BMF” job, Jay-Z revealing who could defeat him in a Verzuz battle and much more.(00:00) - Intro(05:38) - Confidential Witness Alleges Lil Durk Ordered Hits On Six People(07:15) - Feds Fail To Find Anything Incriminating On Lil Durk's iCloud(14:03) - Drake Launches Appeal To Resurrect UMG “Not Like Us” Lawsuit(14:45) - Drake, Adin Ross & Stake Hit With Lawsuit For Gambling Promo(21:37) - Cam'ron Hits J. Cole With Lawsuit Over Their Collab “Ready 24”(25:58) - 50 Cent Clowns Lil Meech For Losing His “BMF” Job(32:03) - Rap Doesn't Chart On The Top 40 After 35 years(38:02) - Jay-Z Reveals Who Could Defeat Him In A Verzuz Battle(55:00) - Billboard Hot 100

What if the path to power demanded a blood price you never saw coming? In a world scarred by the Great Quake's endless storms—where sterilized refugees chase fractured freedoms across divided lands—Episode 11: "The Walls of Freedom" pulls you through the breach. Erika's family nears their throne... but shadows strike without mercy. TJ's unyielding hand offers shelter laced with steel; Virgis's whispers hint at cracks in the calm. Drawn from Sara F. Hathaway's Changing Earth novels—explore more with books & swag at changingearthseries.com. Can you trust the walls that promise everything?Get Prepared with Our Incredible Sponsors! Survival Bags, kits, gear www.limatangosurvival.comEMP Proof Shipping Containers www.fardaycontainers.comThe Prepper's Medical Handbook Build Your Medical Cache – Welcome PBN FamilyPack Fresh USA www.packfreshusa.comSupport PBN with a Donation https://bit.ly/3SICxEq

Quake discusses the updates on Foolio's murder trial, Lil Durk's affiliate THF Bayzoo getting shot & killed, LUCKI getting sued by Empire for alleged contract breach, a woman insisting she's Eminem's wife during restaurant arrest, Kevin Gates getting accused of abandoning his family while splurging his money, Drake breaking more RIAA records and much more.(00:00) - Intro(00:46) - Updates On Foolio's Murder Trial(13:01) - Lil Durk Affiliate THF Bayzoo Shot & Killed In Chicago(19:17) - LUCKI Sued By Empire For Alleged Contract Breach(31:06) - Cash Money vs No Limit VERZUZ Review(38:37) - Woman Insists She's Eminem's Wife During Restaurant Arrest(40:49) - Kevin Gates Accused Of Abandoning Family While Splurging His Money(45:21) - Drake Breaks More RIAA Records(55:42) - Joe Budden's Ish Says 50 Cent Didn't Have Anyone To Compete With When He Was On Top(01:04:19) - New Music(01:04:49) - Album Sales

In this week's episode, joined by 2024 New Orleans-Matsue Sister City Exchange Program participants Katherine Heller & Wade Trosclair, the Krewe looks back & celebrates 30 years of friendship between Matsue, Japan & New Orleans, Louisiana... a sister city relationship built on cultural exchange, mutual curiosity, &shared spirit. Together, they reflect on their time in Matsue during the exchange program, their experiences with host families, and the deep connections that form when two communities separated by an ocean come together.------ About the Krewe ------The Krewe of Japan Podcast is a weekly episodic podcast sponsored by the Japan Society of New Orleans. Check them out every Friday afternoon around noon CST on Apple, Google, Spotify, Amazon, Stitcher, or wherever you get your podcasts.  Want to share your experiences with the Krewe? Or perhaps you have ideas for episodes, feedback, comments, or questions? Let the Krewe know by e-mail at kreweofjapanpodcast@gmail.com or on social media (Twitter: @kreweofjapan, Instagram: @kreweofjapanpodcast, Facebook: Krewe of Japan Podcast Page, TikTok: @kreweofjapanpodcast, LinkedIn: Krewe of Japan LinkedIn Page, Blue Sky Social: @kreweofjapan.bsky.social, & the Krewe of Japan Youtube Channel). Until next time, enjoy!------ Support the Krewe! Offer Links for Affiliates ------Use the referral links below & our promo code from the episode (timestamps [hh:mm:ss] where you can find the code)!Support your favorite NFL Team AND podcast! Shop NFLShop to gear up for football season!Zencastr Offer Link - Use my special link to save 30% off your 1st month of any Zencastr paid plan!  (00:53:00)------ Past Matsue/Sister City Episodes ------Lafcadio Hearn: 2024 King of Carnival (S5Bonus)Explore Matsue ft. Nicholas McCullough (S4E19)Jokichi Takamine: The Earliest Bridge Between New Orleans & Japan ft. Stephen Lyman (S4E13)The Life & Legacy of Lafcadio Hearn ft. Bon & Shoko Koizumi (S1E9)Matsue & New Orleans: Sister Cities ft. Dr. Samantha Perez (S1E2)------ Links about the Exchange ------2024 Exchange Program Info/PicturesShogun Martial Arts Dojo (Katie's family's dojo)------ JSNO Upcoming Events ------JSNO Event CalendarJoin JSNO Today!

Quake discusses Diddy might be getting a Donald Trump pardon from prison, 50 Cent reacting to Diddy having a knife held to his neck, Kevin McCall claiming he's on EBT and wants Chris Brown's Help, Suge Knight saying he would have broke Dr. Dre's jaw if Eve wanted him to, Playboi Carti allegedly threatening to shoot limo driver, what would be different if Eminem or Jay-Z never existed and much more.(00:00) - Intro(02:13) - Diddy Might Get A Donald Trump Pardon From Prison(07:50) - 50 Cent Reacts To Diddy Having A Knife Held To His Neck In Prison(12:45) - Kevin McCall Claims He's On EBT And Wants Chris Brown's Help, CB Responds(27:27) - Suge Knight Says He Would Have Broke Dr. Dre's Jaw If Eve Wanted Him To(29:22) - Playboi Carti Allegedly Threatened To Shoot Limo Driver According To Dispatch Audio(34:11) - Kendrick Lamar Falls Off The Charts For The 1st Time In Over A Year Due To New Billboard Rules(40:50) - Billboard Hot 100(43:14) - Eminem vs Jay-Z: If One Never Existed What Would Be Different

Enjoy this free preview of a Patreon exclusive episode! THE SHOW NOTES Find & support my guest over at: Toby VonDoom and Secret Levels Shane and Retro Hangover Phil and Deleted Saves | BlueSky All of the music contained in the full episode can be enjoyed on Spotify The Main Quest is brought to you by the supporters on Patreon SeekYeWisdom - Chris Coplien - Eric Gess - XeroSam - LowFiveAlex - Vanfernal - Leathco - RyanPlayerOne - Poppy The Masked Keaton - Lars Uncle - B-Ross - Aiden Bisco - Raging Demon - Rob Worthen Subscribe: RSS | YouTube | Apple | Spotify | and More

Welcome to the Season 13 Episode 1 of the Cartridge Club! This month we're playing Quake. Captain Algebra returns to host this discussion, and is joined by GameBoy Guru and J-Chip. Also, be sure to join us in October, when we'll be playing The Quarry. As always, follow along with the conversation every month on our community Discord. Interested in shirts, mugs, notebooks, or other gear featuring designs based on our Game of the Month selection? Check out our merch shop at https://www.teepublic.com/stores/cartridgeclub. Don't forget to give our podcast a review on whatever podcast app that you use! If you're interested in supporting us and our community - and get to be involved in the selection of future games of the month - check out how at https://www.patreon.com/CartridgeClub Links to our Guests: GameboyGuru: | Twitter: @GameBoyGuru | Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@GameBoyGuru J-Chip: Twitter: @JChipShow | Bluesky: @jchipshow.bsky.social | Youtube : https://www.youtube.com/@JChipShow Host: Captain Algebra | Twitter: @Captain_Algebra | Bluesky: @captainalgebra.bksy.social | YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@CaptainAlgebra  

Quake discusses Lil Durk sharing heartfelt message from prison, Lil Wayne emerging victorious from heft legal battle with former lawyer, NBA YoungBoy's second show in Atlanta getting canceled after performing Lil Durk and Lil Baby diss, Gucci Mane commending Jeezy for toning down their “VERZUZ” tensions, Tyler, The Creator facing backlash for liking tweet that criticizes his white fans treatment of black music, the real reason Jim Jones snapped on Tony Yayo and much more.(00:00) - Intro(08:45) - Lil Durk Shares Heartfelt Message From Prison On His 33rd Birthday(14:27) - Lil Wayne Emerges Victorious From Heft Legal Battle With Former Lawyer(18:17) - NBA YoungBoy's Second Show In Atlanta Canceled After Performing Lil Durk and Lil Baby Diss(25:47) - Rod Wave Is Making $14 Million By Making & Selling His Own Merch(33:08) - Gucci Mane Commends Jeezy For Toning Down Their “VERZUZ” Tensions(40:42) - Tyler, The Creator Faces Backlash For Liking Tweet That Criticizes His White Fans Treatment Of Black Music(54:47) - New Music(55:21) - Album Sales

Machinima — a portmanteau of “machine” and “cinema” — refers to movies filmed inside video games. The art form had a renaissance in the 1990s, and many thought it had a future in Hollywood. Among the early pioneers were the New York animation collective the Ill Clan, who puppeteered characters in real-time inside the video game Quake, bypassing traditional animation rendering. This technique exploded into a cultural phenomenon through the 2000s with hits like Red vs. Blue, South Park's Emmy-winning World of Warcraft episode, and This Spartan Life, a live talk show filmed inside Halo 2's unpredictable virtual world. However, machinima.com faced controversies and eventually shut down, erasing its archive and leaving many original artists sidelined. Today, machinima is experiencing a powerful resurgence in documentary filmmaking. Projects like Grand Theft Hamlet, filmed during the pandemic entirely within Grand Theft Auto 5, proved that sophisticated feature films could be created in active, real-time virtual environments. Award-winning documentaries like The Remarkable Life of Ibelin showcase the medium's emotional depth and its potential for democratizing creativity. What started as a technical workaround has evolved into a legitimate art form that continues to redefine the meaning of movies, and games. Credits: This episode was produced by Andrew Callaway and edited by Chris Berube. Mix by Martín Gonzalez. Original music by Swan Real, Jamilah Sandoto and Paul Vaitkus. Fact-checking by Lara Bullens.

Are you prepared for an AI future where your job, your utility bill, and even your government are all impacted?AI is reshaping the world faster than most business leaders are ready for and this week, things got real. From Bernie Sanders' stark warning about 100 million lost jobs to OpenAI's surprising shift into personality-driven chatbots and possible erotica, the lines between innovation and disruption are blurring fast.In this news episode, Isar Meitis takes you on a deep dive into the top three stories shaping the AI-business landscape right now — with a rapid-fire roundup of everything else you can't afford to miss.In this session, you'll discover:Why Bernie Sanders' AI job-loss report might be politically motivated and still dangerously realThe true cost of data centers (think: a hundred thousand homes' worth of electricity)Why bipartisan protests against AI infrastructure are gaining traction and why they may still failHow OpenAI's new direction is raising eyebrows from erotica chatbots to creator IP fightsWhy Mechanize believes AI workforce automation is inevitable, and what that means for business leadersA16Z's latest insight: Software ate the world, now AI is eating laborWhat Salesforce's “AgentForce 360” is really about  and whether it can save them from irrelevanceThe parallel between AI's IP wars and Napster's battle with the music industryWhy regulatory changes in California might be too little, too lateAbout Leveraging AI The Ultimate AI Course for Business People: https://multiplai.ai/ai-course/ YouTube Full Episodes: https://www.youtube.com/@Multiplai_AI/ Connect with Isar Meitis: https://www.linkedin.com/in/isarmeitis/ Join our Live Sessions, AI Hangouts and newsletter: https://services.multiplai.ai/events If you've enjoyed or benefited from some of the insights of this episode, leave us a five-star review on your favorite podcast platform, and let us know what you learned, found helpful, or liked most about this show!

Back in the 90s, artists turned video games into movie sets, and their wildest ideas are finally hitting documentaries.Hidden Levels is a production of 99% Invisible and WBUR's Endless Thread. Subscribe to SiriusXM Podcasts+ to listen to new episodes of 99% Invisible ad-free and a whole week early. Start a free trial now on Apple Podcasts or by visiting siriusxm.com/podcastsplus. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

The Krewe sits down with Haruka Kikuchi, a Japanese jazz trombonist making waves in New Orleans. From discovering jazz in Japan to second-lining through the Crescent City, Haruka shares her story of finding home through music — and how jazz bridges cultures across oceans.  ------ About the Krewe ------The Krewe of Japan Podcast is a weekly episodic podcast sponsored by the Japan Society of New Orleans. Check them out every Friday afternoon around noon CST on Apple, Google, Spotify, Amazon, Stitcher, or wherever you get your podcasts.  Want to share your experiences with the Krewe? Or perhaps you have ideas for episodes, feedback, comments, or questions? Let the Krewe know by e-mail at kreweofjapanpodcast@gmail.com or on social media (Twitter: @kreweofjapan, Instagram: @kreweofjapanpodcast, Facebook: Krewe of Japan Podcast Page, TikTok: @kreweofjapanpodcast, LinkedIn: Krewe of Japan LinkedIn Page, Blue Sky Social: @kreweofjapan.bsky.social, & the Krewe of Japan Youtube Channel). Until next time, enjoy!------ Support the Krewe! Offer Links for Affiliates ------Use the referral links below & our promo code from the episode (timestamps [hh:mm:ss] where you can find the code)!Support your favorite NFL Team AND podcast! Shop NFLShop to gear up for football season!Zencastr Offer Link - Use my special link to save 30% off your 1st month of any Zencastr paid plan!  (00:53:00)------ Past Music Episodes ------S5E13 - The Thunderous Sounds of Taiko ft. Takumi Kato (加藤 拓三), World Champion Taiko DrummerS5E10 - The Japanese Pop Music Scene ft. Patrick St. MichelS4E1 - Shamisen: Musical Sounds of Traditional Japan ft. Norm Nakamura of Tokyo LensS3E14 - City Pop & Yu ft. Yu HayamiS3E1 - Exploring Enka ft. Jerome White Jr aka ジェロ / Jero------ Links about Haruka ------Haruka's Website Haruka on IGHaruka on FacebookHaruka on YouTubeGoFundMe to Help Support Haruka's Family------ JSNO Upcoming Events ------JSNO Event CalendarJoin JSNO Today!