Podcasts about unknowing

I have eyes in the back of my head I have goats at the top of my bed I have goats on the cap of my knee I think I wrote my own obituary Oh, you hetcha Bitch, you ain't me Shit be poppin off at the rock in 8 minutes exactly In studio 8H That's where I am, Amen again Cause I meant it And I mix in the pancake batter Perhaps some berries? Apparently not, 7 minutes and counting I'm at the Rock Now I'm putting away my don't ask, don't tell Ok. Okay? Okay? Now I'm making arrangements; Don't want to be your favorite, I just miss LA with a hankering Call Hank team USA That's FBI I'm so Walter White that I watch Saturday Night — not live, though I'm too broke for peacock, YouTube And cable! Dang, bro! How many subscriptions do I need Just not to dry myself to sleep. Send me some pictures January jonesing for a free ride scholarship To on God university, Aka: inside the TV DOBT BE EVIL. WRITE ME A SEQUEL! Ok tv people First just let me … son of a bitch! I told you she'd be back. Yo. Whaddup. You killed Jimmy Fallon! I did not. You did! Yes you did. I didn't. He was already like that. What! You heard me! Explain to me how— This man: [This man] *heavy gasps and anxietal wheezing fills the room* Explain this. Metaphisics. That doesn't explain anything. It explains everything, actually. *explodes* Excuse me, miss— do I smell a remix? No, that's pancakes. I got capacity for losers; I'm no longer lonely A broke in horse with no saddle Don't ride me less it's barevack Down and dirty Downhome and in the raw I like to buck And I like it hard A strong gallop and pull, Top speed Why I don't pay for dreams Why I got tv and movie stars in my dreams Why Ariana grande so pretty? Why when we leave outside the crowd still roaring for an e core? Why am I a mogul; Why do I look like a fashion icon? God for it right, I guess but why do I still feel Wildly unsatisfied The lights said I left the water on Turn the lights off Turn the water on I speak color, I am an animal I spoke 9 Gods I am an animal Rise to the occasion I broke the code I threw the rock off the rock k I smoke the fountain I run the block once Come twice Nice shockwave right there Hi God. A beautiful night to die But no time to fall I despaired on desire, Why right on Maine Radio towers Icons Beautiful glimmering city Mayday mayday went haywire Repeat Mayday mayday Went haywire Repeat Mayday mayday Went haywire Now rinse thoroughly Alright, alright. So hawked it. You hawked my father's antique stopwatch?! Sorry. Sorry?! AAAAGG— [The Festival Project ™{ Mayday mayday Went heywire They need more scriptwriters I want an empire I wrote half of the Super Bowl commercials Mayday mayday Oh man. Oh, fuck. You had better wash your hands before you touch my crotch. I don't. Give me—- my— body back. Nope. AUghhhh. My inspiration is dead in the water Can't watch hot ones That guy ruined it Ruined September And ruined October Ruined the cosmos And ruined my song, bro— I'm ruined. My inspiration is dead in the water I am a trash can, Man, this is awkward I won an award for songs post mortem Then I wrote more of them This is the afterlife I'm an immortal. My inspiration is dead in the water I'm just not moved man I need a baseball cap and some phantoms A laxatives Maybe some large hands A ball glove Some box seats Smoked sausage And the dodgers. I wanna go home and not be homeless. I want a condo above four stories. I want the whole world on top of its axis I want the other half of the balance My whole life been whack, Where's the reverse card? Run the tarot— Pull the rewards back, Don't touch the foreskin, Call back the foreman Redact that! Redact that! We're starting to crossfires. We met at the crossroads; One goes down, one goes up. Oh, the Irish are back, look: That's good— I got bored. {enter The multiverse} We were at blue suits and sweater vests And now I know better than To count on comics designed to be weather men Of pop culture— current events a spin on the news l went there for clarity, And left there confused. Confused. If the transmitter is at the World Trade Center, Then why is it every time I to go Rockefeller Center, I feel like I've just been electrocuted? Not enough to die, but like I'm buzzing all over and out of my body? Remarkably, and no matter what — Whenever I'm there, I just feel weird. Like, mad weird. Hey. What. Did you see a guy? I'm a guy. Really? Apparently. Well, I'm looking for this guy. I did see a guy like that. Really? Yeah. He was weird. Which way did he go? Uh. [Sunni BLU points up] Really? He went upstairs? Sure! Huh. Thanks. Whatever. I need you to need me I need me to be cool I need you to want me To love me To free me To love me To hold you I know you I know you I know. Knockout with a scarred lip Knockout was a good guy Knockout got knocked up Knockout had a good try Knockout got knocked out Knockout had a good cry Knockout got locked up Goodbye. Good luck. Here's a chalice. 09. Don't waste time. But I'm tired I'm shadow boxing my mind I'm lights out Candles lit I, I, I I, me, mine And God But I won't waste time I'm still dried out I got my eyes lost Wrapped around you In hindsight I'm behind Blind to the power I love my readheads and range rovers I lost my mind on mullholland Pull over and vomit And suddenly I'm at the Portal Plummet Plaza. [The Festival Project ™ ] The rock and the kite VI Rosie o donnel is chillin. Jimmy Kimmel kicks in the door. Oh look, the cat is back. Meow. To what do I owe the pleasure. You remember that cup of sugar you borrowed? …okay? I need it back. I see. —and my blender. Rosie o donnel takes a deep breath and then sighs. The cup of sugar I can help you with… the blender, I still need. Fair. Follow me. Rosie and Jimmy exit the room, the glimmer of the television still flickering on the green postered armchair with the remote control atop the armrest m; the actual cat (we presume) climbs up into the chair and appears to begin watching the TV? What's on the TV? Why, it's the very orogramme we're all currently tuned into. This just got meta. Again. The cat, looking bored, changes the channel to Garfield. Much better. He looks satisfied now, but is entirely still 199% just a cat. We presume. Your body ponders My eye wander to you're belt buckle My mind watches. Sorry. Your body calls me. My love hurts. I want you. My thought sparkles with the thought of a touch I'm not hungry, I just want you I desire to hold hands and then Dive off I thought you up to love you The time was wrong So now I watch That's all A long rush to nothing Dogtown, Godland. Longboards, longhairs, all body No shine, bro Hard wax, yellow soldier Wavestirm? Epoxy? North shore surf boards Surf harder Fuck New York I wanna go home Panoramic Hollywood golden Who lost apartheid Who first of all Chosen sources First mate Overboard Long hair Wrong rowboat Oh lover Lord of all I almost forgot it was Saturday, Saturday Night I was too busy not working I'm all yours for Passover I'm all ears, And now I get a sense that this Is my last and greatest trick; Disappearing for this, And again forever This is going to take Forever All wrong: You work for the network Interesting choice of wardrobe– another old code magician Ring on opposite finger– The other, I'm so much aware of The ice cream in tubs on the road Not melted, but partially hardened I can also feign confusion You don't say, You don't say, now. Shake hands with your guest; Monologue, monologue smug smirk Make good face– Now put a name to the face Put a time to the place IOh, all the love in the world in three flames All the doves in the flock, And three flames Put a name to the face Monologue monologue Doesnt take long but When do i get to slap the desk? Johnny! What happened? Whats the 10 vodkas, Five spritzers Full figure Figure this You were out for the count! Do tell! Or better yet, don't. I remember tgis mologue, But i dont know how 16 hours ago, I was Out for the count, you say?! OUT, Johnny! Our market is livid! lol who plays john carson Your mother. YO! I'M OLD! I LIKE OLD DUDES NOW! I'm like When the fuck did this happen?! That ain't no SILVER FOX! That's a TOTALLY CUTE DUDE! HE'S 55!! OH NOOOOOOOO! i'M OLD!!!!!!! its wednesday eve in Boston Mass… SETH MEYERS! Ah, he's going for it. Ah, man. SHOW ME YOUR EYES. Fuck. SHOW ME YOUR EYES! SUDAKIS shines a bright flash light into his former colleagues eyes. …You're not Seth Meyers. Seth Meyers does not respond, but relaxes slightly; it's obviously not safe to be Seth Meyers right now. Where's Seth Meyers? Seth shrugs but still doesn't say anything– Where is he? I have to stop here; Cop out for body language somebody's watching Somebody knows who I am I am I remember now You looked like that It went like this: I moved the world The need was good The love was gone The vein was split open And broken No fair Also, no omletts 60 minutes 60 years and 60 second clips 60 second glimpses 60 men on television but really, my attention just centers on Around ten of them or so And believe it or not, I care approach. Believe it or not, I care Or don't! –or don't! Johnny! You don't get it! You missed a show! THE tonight show! We are fucked! we are NOT! youre still sauced. I'll just take the car! What car!? Now that JOHNNY CARSON knows his Delorean can time travel, he's absolutely unstoppable. Unfortunately, it appears his delorean has been switched with a regular one– If I shoot you in your forehead? I'd rather that, than this. And I kiss you in your temple? Dear templeton, my simpleton's i'll die I desire. A wicked want. And then? A callous shadow, If i may, To bear for nothing, But a mirror This is our concept And wilted her e the flower does grow the flame The faming true and ache of lust and there For our want a jasper shore and emerald cascades there you are, And there you'll find The wave beyond the peaking break where great white sharks reside But do not wade to shallow waters; And there you find peace, And there you find certainty But now, And here, is war And fortune not but seeks truth in the gaze And for fear there does not live, but hides instead the truth that seeks to guide the lite, And yet does know our trust And there does find the faith, Forward and not Upwards and back Arrow and arrow Truth and sparrow Wreaking and wretched thoughts And the rope does hang high and solemn Looking, leap and gasp For I fall but did not land I pulled for you, I weep, my shadow, The two of diamonds, the Ace of spades, The Three of Hearts, Without my shadow I weep. I know for you nothing but conscious and knowing and needing and fated departure. I know for you nothing but chakras and eyesight and shadows and foresight. I need fo you nothing but want and by conscious, departure For nothing I want you, I weep. Sorrow. On approach of danger, The knowing, On seeth did gather, the sinking ritual the carried tribes in ships tied, weaving strings The spider bites hard And she stole my love twice And she stole my love always And she stole my love Lighting my light wit blue eyes The deception If love could be stolen at all But if not Then not love for seeking is finding and gathered had hunted And truth in forbearer Forbearance and otherwords, Shadows and shattered and ferris wheels, Now forward Gathered here for are I trust And be dismayed for you have faltered You have failures and you have cast us out of these things thinking We have not made them for you And still we seek to gather with you And here does forshadow your making Our promise to come as ones, Not as Gods, But as others, you cast out. Now, with your wicked ways and cruel be done, for sure the tables have turn, one And the gallows have not wandered far, Barrels of guns and barbells bottles and hearts of three reading cards and wanting none but justice Is he and she who are I now Begin to run from your pitied structure And there in the gasping cruelness of seeking from warcrimes this, come what may, Moving and seeking, For seeking is finding, And run, my legs have come far But trust, my dove, My wings have too, sprouted An honor, an honor one candle and three wicks Three candles and three worlds over One world and one building and still far from under the Hollywoodland Crickets sounding The Hollywood Sign Still standing and here I am not, Blades of grass And who are I now Of that which you balk at Look, ponder Go, far asunder And wish now had you not What I am is that, Run Temper temper. Mind your business. Is it gathered? To burn, or burden? Gathered. Gathered here. Then here ive wandered. To stake? Argue. I will not. And I will not. Wiry bird, From where you flown i do ponder– re d with spirit and wilding eyes, Narrow server and paring wires; I do not wish to know you now or ever, But only as bird that does golden remember. The love has not gone, And instead lives in my throat, And twists in my lungs, Ans sits in my tongue, Not as speech, or whispers, But tragedy. Unknowing this, my tender being It can never be, the nervous hill And rolling down the hill as if The weel of time itself, Not unbroken, but resilient; In sll ways, meant to tear And turn, And wobble Made for terrain for which our eyes have known And our minds have built And hands molded wiith clay, The bodies whole of all our galaxies terra feighn Terra fine Terra wept tears of a clown, And iron And veins And shadows And plays, And secrets , And whispers And truth And far And Afters. I taste a saline drip, I swallow, Suddenly cold and all the knowing that What I was, I surely already am again And what I will be, Has already come and past. The monologue, I do remember Face to a name and none to forget Well rehearsed forager! Well done bayonet! Well done, my shadow For my time is coming to wander to night And never today again for it shall never Today again, And Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow. [The Festival Project ™ ] They said he would destroy me. …Ya'll were right. that fucked me up. {Enter The Multiverse} So…forfeit? Something tells me its not over The heavy heart is shattered But also tied to that which appears to come upward As if on air To be heavy And lighthearted at once– A shadow above a balloon. A rock is attached to a kite– A diamond becomes a bassoon, Then a vampire bat, and then Cut ties. In the fourth act, we all die, and now– A revival. I was crucified, But i was also suicidal so. Lets just call it a tie. L E G E N D S V.O. Crusher. My show was being subliminally plugged on at least two of the five major networks. Safe bet I could make it a third, but I didn't know where to check. I did…but didn't want to. There was much beyond the surface, Darkness in the glimmering eyes of the men in ties and uniformed suits. I was sure I was tied to something– And since I didn't know why, Or to what, The best bet I'm all in. Fuck. Was to stay broken, Under the radar, Hidden, and most importantly– Unspoken. These days. I kept more to myself than I could with the world– As it turned out… No, not yet. What do you mean? It's not time yet. They'll have to know. But not yet. At some point, they'll have to know. But not–yet. No time like the present. You made that up. Because you made up time. And it's stupid. This is ruthless. And again–they'll have to learn somehow. But not now. The sun sets at noon on our side, and still 21 hours of dark time. Did I have another tag to throw on it this? No. Are you sure? Doesn't the new series have a subtitle? No. Is it not “quantum force” That's only one, though. What's the difference. ERMO, DON'T! I'm gonna kill him! BIG BOYD, DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT! DOn't tell me what to DO. Wow. of course. Well yeah, they're not going to let me do– LAWYERS No. Any of this stuff with the actual muppets. You're wasting precious time! GET BACK IN YOUR HOLE, RED. ok, where does it– {cut to black} Learning to assimilate and readily avalible What's next A vape to calm the nerves? What's next? A hero fighting for relevance in corporate structure. Sure, some would pay to dress an avatar But I've run out of water before I try to laugh and roll with the punches This is work and not fun for me This is not social, it's business I am not person, I'm product. Go on a walk, and look the part I took the oath, I shed the blood— Cruxes. This is a bad idea, Mark. Fuck you. All my ideas are great. MARK WAHLBERG enters the cooridor and opens the metal double doors, revealing two l jet skis on a trailer hitched to a 4X4 monster truck. [The Festival Project ™] I'm telling you. You got to get yourself one of these. I don't know, Bob, how does it work? BOB odenkirk opens a large, obscure black bag that's nearly half his own size by way of one way zipper. I'll show you. {Enter The Multiverse} JOHNNY CARSON has been in the DRUNK TANK for the maximum allowance, 48 hours, yet his blood alcohol level still reads 3 times over the legal limit. He is transferred to DETOX as the mysterious circumstances surrounding his car accident, and then the apparent disappearance of his entire “car” a (then) brand-new DeLorean from the scene of the crime, MR. CARSON insists on his lawyer, who under no circumstances seems to exist at all being present. The exact year of his whereabouts are still unknown. Still an hour to the test And I hate myself again Milk and cookies, hit the bed Shut it down, yo Shut it down. DIPLO arrives via HELIPAD to an secret location; a sniper squad of the adversary team watches from an adjacent rooftop via binoculars. …hey. Whaddup. You say diplo's on that list? Yeah. Yo… …There he is. In your sight? Yep. Shoot that motherfucker! …I can't. Why not? He's like— Just shoot, fool. —he's like holding something. So? I don't know what; it just seems— What the fuck, dawg. It just seems important. Let me see. Look. [ESSE looks down the sights and zooms to see DIPLO is holding an object firmly in his grasp. He appears to be twirling it purposefully as he conversates wi th associate.] Yeah! Get em! Shoot that motherfucker! Where the hell have you been? In my fuckpad. Where the hell is that? You haven't seen my fuckpad? What even is that. It's ballin. Whatever, dog. Did you get the— Shh. Why else would I be here? [beat] You look— did you cut your hair or something. You're so redundant. Yo shoot that motherfucker. What are you waiting for?! He's right there? Apparently, we've been building to this moment from another dimension in from another point in the series? I thought— {Enter The Multiverse} [The Identity Crisis] The identity crisis, A loose knit muse, A fog of confusion At most, let with offline regaining of conciousness. No more monsters? All blondes are. Let them have you No grapple promotions (I know I can't afford you) New friends for relevance Prototypes of your tools Forward all immortals I'll see you when your shows stop Freckled glances Eyes reflecting light How strong I am Demolish monsters Social structure, constructs Not fair, are I? Nor earned, Only fair skinned Access Access Access denied. Crookshanks, old boy! The man turns around almost as if he doesn't want to, but obliges the other man, as he comes running towards him. My Goodness, you stink. Why of course! I'm a dog! [The Festival Project ™] The Complex Collective © | COPYRIGHT 2018-2025 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED -Ū. {Reposts}

I have eyes in the back of my head I have goats at the top of my bed I have goats on the cap of my knee I think I wrote my own obituary Oh, you hetcha Bitch, you ain't me Shit be poppin off at the rock in 8 minutes exactly In studio 8H That's where I am, Amen again Cause I meant it And I mix in the pancake batter Perhaps some berries? Apparently not, 7 minutes and counting I'm at the Rock Now I'm putting away my don't ask, don't tell Ok. Okay? Okay? Now I'm making arrangements; Don't want to be your favorite, I just miss LA with a hankering Call Hank team USA That's FBI I'm so Walter White that I watch Saturday Night — not live, though I'm too broke for peacock, YouTube And cable! Dang, bro! How many subscriptions do I need Just not to dry myself to sleep. Send me some pictures January jonesing for a free ride scholarship To on God university, Aka: inside the TV DOBT BE EVIL. WRITE ME A SEQUEL! Ok tv people First just let me … son of a bitch! I told you she'd be back. Yo. Whaddup. You killed Jimmy Fallon! I did not. You did! Yes you did. I didn't. He was already like that. What! You heard me! Explain to me how— This man: [This man] *heavy gasps and anxietal wheezing fills the room* Explain this. Metaphisics. That doesn't explain anything. It explains everything, actually. *explodes* Excuse me, miss— do I smell a remix? No, that's pancakes. I got capacity for losers; I'm no longer lonely A broke in horse with no saddle Don't ride me less it's barevack Down and dirty Downhome and in the raw I like to buck And I like it hard A strong gallop and pull, Top speed Why I don't pay for dreams Why I got tv and movie stars in my dreams Why Ariana grande so pretty? Why when we leave outside the crowd still roaring for an e core? Why am I a mogul; Why do I look like a fashion icon? God for it right, I guess but why do I still feel Wildly unsatisfied The lights said I left the water on Turn the lights off Turn the water on I speak color, I am an animal I spoke 9 Gods I am an animal Rise to the occasion I broke the code I threw the rock off the rock k I smoke the fountain I run the block once Come twice Nice shockwave right there Hi God. A beautiful night to die But no time to fall I despaired on desire, Why right on Maine Radio towers Icons Beautiful glimmering city Mayday mayday went haywire Repeat Mayday mayday Went haywire Repeat Mayday mayday Went haywire Now rinse thoroughly Alright, alright. So hawked it. You hawked my father's antique stopwatch?! Sorry. Sorry?! AAAAGG— [The Festival Project ™{ Mayday mayday Went heywire They need more scriptwriters I want an empire I wrote half of the Super Bowl commercials Mayday mayday Oh man. Oh, fuck. You had better wash your hands before you touch my crotch. I don't. Give me—- my— body back. Nope. AUghhhh. My inspiration is dead in the water Can't watch hot ones That guy ruined it Ruined September And ruined October Ruined the cosmos And ruined my song, bro— I'm ruined. My inspiration is dead in the water I am a trash can, Man, this is awkward I won an award for songs post mortem Then I wrote more of them This is the afterlife I'm an immortal. My inspiration is dead in the water I'm just not moved man I need a baseball cap and some phantoms A laxatives Maybe some large hands A ball glove Some box seats Smoked sausage And the dodgers. I wanna go home and not be homeless. I want a condo above four stories. I want the whole world on top of its axis I want the other half of the balance My whole life been whack, Where's the reverse card? Run the tarot— Pull the rewards back, Don't touch the foreskin, Call back the foreman Redact that! Redact that! We're starting to crossfires. We met at the crossroads; One goes down, one goes up. Oh, the Irish are back, look: That's good— I got bored. {enter The multiverse} We were at blue suits and sweater vests And now I know better than To count on comics designed to be weather men Of pop culture— current events a spin on the news l went there for clarity, And left there confused. Confused. If the transmitter is at the World Trade Center, Then why is it every time I to go Rockefeller Center, I feel like I've just been electrocuted? Not enough to die, but like I'm buzzing all over and out of my body? Remarkably, and no matter what — Whenever I'm there, I just feel weird. Like, mad weird. Hey. What. Did you see a guy? I'm a guy. Really? Apparently. Well, I'm looking for this guy. I did see a guy like that. Really? Yeah. He was weird. Which way did he go? Uh. [Sunni BLU points up] Really? He went upstairs? Sure! Huh. Thanks. Whatever. I need you to need me I need me to be cool I need you to want me To love me To free me To love me To hold you I know you I know you I know. Knockout with a scarred lip Knockout was a good guy Knockout got knocked up Knockout had a good try Knockout got knocked out Knockout had a good cry Knockout got locked up Goodbye. Good luck. Here's a chalice. 09. Don't waste time. But I'm tired I'm shadow boxing my mind I'm lights out Candles lit I, I, I I, me, mine And God But I won't waste time I'm still dried out I got my eyes lost Wrapped around you In hindsight I'm behind Blind to the power I love my readheads and range rovers I lost my mind on mullholland Pull over and vomit And suddenly I'm at the Portal Plummet Plaza. [The Festival Project ™ ] The rock and the kite VI Rosie o donnel is chillin. Jimmy Kimmel kicks in the door. Oh look, the cat is back. Meow. To what do I owe the pleasure. You remember that cup of sugar you borrowed? …okay? I need it back. I see. —and my blender. Rosie o donnel takes a deep breath and then sighs. The cup of sugar I can help you with… the blender, I still need. Fair. Follow me. Rosie and Jimmy exit the room, the glimmer of the television still flickering on the green postered armchair with the remote control atop the armrest m; the actual cat (we presume) climbs up into the chair and appears to begin watching the TV? What's on the TV? Why, it's the very orogramme we're all currently tuned into. This just got meta. Again. The cat, looking bored, changes the channel to Garfield. Much better. He looks satisfied now, but is entirely still 199% just a cat. We presume. Your body ponders My eye wander to you're belt buckle My mind watches. Sorry. Your body calls me. My love hurts. I want you. My thought sparkles with the thought of a touch I'm not hungry, I just want you I desire to hold hands and then Dive off I thought you up to love you The time was wrong So now I watch That's all A long rush to nothing Dogtown, Godland. Longboards, longhairs, all body No shine, bro Hard wax, yellow soldier Wavestirm? Epoxy? North shore surf boards Surf harder Fuck New York I wanna go home Panoramic Hollywood golden Who lost apartheid Who first of all Chosen sources First mate Overboard Long hair Wrong rowboat Oh lover Lord of all I almost forgot it was Saturday, Saturday Night I was too busy not working I'm all yours for Passover I'm all ears, And now I get a sense that this Is my last and greatest trick; Disappearing for this, And again forever This is going to take Forever All wrong: You work for the network Interesting choice of wardrobe– another old code magician Ring on opposite finger– The other, I'm so much aware of The ice cream in tubs on the road Not melted, but partially hardened I can also feign confusion You don't say, You don't say, now. Shake hands with your guest; Monologue, monologue smug smirk Make good face– Now put a name to the face Put a time to the place IOh, all the love in the world in three flames All the doves in the flock, And three flames Put a name to the face Monologue monologue Doesnt take long but When do i get to slap the desk? Johnny! What happened? Whats the 10 vodkas, Five spritzers Full figure Figure this You were out for the count! Do tell! Or better yet, don't. I remember tgis mologue, But i dont know how 16 hours ago, I was Out for the count, you say?! OUT, Johnny! Our market is livid! lol who plays john carson Your mother. YO! I'M OLD! I LIKE OLD DUDES NOW! I'm like When the fuck did this happen?! That ain't no SILVER FOX! That's a TOTALLY CUTE DUDE! HE'S 55!! OH NOOOOOOOO! i'M OLD!!!!!!! its wednesday eve in Boston Mass… SETH MEYERS! Ah, he's going for it. Ah, man. SHOW ME YOUR EYES. Fuck. SHOW ME YOUR EYES! SUDAKIS shines a bright flash light into his former colleagues eyes. …You're not Seth Meyers. Seth Meyers does not respond, but relaxes slightly; it's obviously not safe to be Seth Meyers right now. Where's Seth Meyers? Seth shrugs but still doesn't say anything– Where is he? I have to stop here; Cop out for body language somebody's watching Somebody knows who I am I am I remember now You looked like that It went like this: I moved the world The need was good The love was gone The vein was split open And broken No fair Also, no omletts 60 minutes 60 years and 60 second clips 60 second glimpses 60 men on television but really, my attention just centers on Around ten of them or so And believe it or not, I care approach. Believe it or not, I care Or don't! –or don't! Johnny! You don't get it! You missed a show! THE tonight show! We are fucked! we are NOT! youre still sauced. I'll just take the car! What car!? Now that JOHNNY CARSON knows his Delorean can time travel, he's absolutely unstoppable. Unfortunately, it appears his delorean has been switched with a regular one– If I shoot you in your forehead? I'd rather that, than this. And I kiss you in your temple? Dear templeton, my simpleton's i'll die I desire. A wicked want. And then? A callous shadow, If i may, To bear for nothing, But a mirror This is our concept And wilted her e the flower does grow the flame The faming true and ache of lust and there For our want a jasper shore and emerald cascades there you are, And there you'll find The wave beyond the peaking break where great white sharks reside But do not wade to shallow waters; And there you find peace, And there you find certainty But now, And here, is war And fortune not but seeks truth in the gaze And for fear there does not live, but hides instead the truth that seeks to guide the lite, And yet does know our trust And there does find the faith, Forward and not Upwards and back Arrow and arrow Truth and sparrow Wreaking and wretched thoughts And the rope does hang high and solemn Looking, leap and gasp For I fall but did not land I pulled for you, I weep, my shadow, The two of diamonds, the Ace of spades, The Three of Hearts, Without my shadow I weep. I know for you nothing but conscious and knowing and needing and fated departure. I know for you nothing but chakras and eyesight and shadows and foresight. I need fo you nothing but want and by conscious, departure For nothing I want you, I weep. Sorrow. On approach of danger, The knowing, On seeth did gather, the sinking ritual the carried tribes in ships tied, weaving strings The spider bites hard And she stole my love twice And she stole my love always And she stole my love Lighting my light wit blue eyes The deception If love could be stolen at all But if not Then not love for seeking is finding and gathered had hunted And truth in forbearer Forbearance and otherwords, Shadows and shattered and ferris wheels, Now forward Gathered here for are I trust And be dismayed for you have faltered You have failures and you have cast us out of these things thinking We have not made them for you And still we seek to gather with you And here does forshadow your making Our promise to come as ones, Not as Gods, But as others, you cast out. Now, with your wicked ways and cruel be done, for sure the tables have turn, one And the gallows have not wandered far, Barrels of guns and barbells bottles and hearts of three reading cards and wanting none but justice Is he and she who are I now Begin to run from your pitied structure And there in the gasping cruelness of seeking from warcrimes this, come what may, Moving and seeking, For seeking is finding, And run, my legs have come far But trust, my dove, My wings have too, sprouted An honor, an honor one candle and three wicks Three candles and three worlds over One world and one building and still far from under the Hollywoodland Crickets sounding The Hollywood Sign Still standing and here I am not, Blades of grass And who are I now Of that which you balk at Look, ponder Go, far asunder And wish now had you not What I am is that, Run Temper temper. Mind your business. Is it gathered? To burn, or burden? Gathered. Gathered here. Then here ive wandered. To stake? Argue. I will not. And I will not. Wiry bird, From where you flown i do ponder– re d with spirit and wilding eyes, Narrow server and paring wires; I do not wish to know you now or ever, But only as bird that does golden remember. The love has not gone, And instead lives in my throat, And twists in my lungs, Ans sits in my tongue, Not as speech, or whispers, But tragedy. Unknowing this, my tender being It can never be, the nervous hill And rolling down the hill as if The weel of time itself, Not unbroken, but resilient; In sll ways, meant to tear And turn, And wobble Made for terrain for which our eyes have known And our minds have built And hands molded wiith clay, The bodies whole of all our galaxies terra feighn Terra fine Terra wept tears of a clown, And iron And veins And shadows And plays, And secrets , And whispers And truth And far And Afters. I taste a saline drip, I swallow, Suddenly cold and all the knowing that What I was, I surely already am again And what I will be, Has already come and past. The monologue, I do remember Face to a name and none to forget Well rehearsed forager! Well done bayonet! Well done, my shadow For my time is coming to wander to night And never today again for it shall never Today again, And Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow. [The Festival Project ™ ] They said he would destroy me. …Ya'll were right. that fucked me up. {Enter The Multiverse} So…forfeit? Something tells me its not over The heavy heart is shattered But also tied to that which appears to come upward As if on air To be heavy And lighthearted at once– A shadow above a balloon. A rock is attached to a kite– A diamond becomes a bassoon, Then a vampire bat, and then Cut ties. In the fourth act, we all die, and now– A revival. I was crucified, But i was also suicidal so. Lets just call it a tie. L E G E N D S V.O. Crusher. My show was being subliminally plugged on at least two of the five major networks. Safe bet I could make it a third, but I didn't know where to check. I did…but didn't want to. There was much beyond the surface, Darkness in the glimmering eyes of the men in ties and uniformed suits. I was sure I was tied to something– And since I didn't know why, Or to what, The best bet I'm all in. Fuck. Was to stay broken, Under the radar, Hidden, and most importantly– Unspoken. These days. I kept more to myself than I could with the world– As it turned out… No, not yet. What do you mean? It's not time yet. They'll have to know. But not yet. At some point, they'll have to know. But not–yet. No time like the present. You made that up. Because you made up time. And it's stupid. This is ruthless. And again–they'll have to learn somehow. But not now. The sun sets at noon on our side, and still 21 hours of dark time. Did I have another tag to throw on it this? No. Are you sure? Doesn't the new series have a subtitle? No. Is it not “quantum force” That's only one, though. What's the difference. ERMO, DON'T! I'm gonna kill him! BIG BOYD, DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT! DOn't tell me what to DO. Wow. of course. Well yeah, they're not going to let me do– LAWYERS No. Any of this stuff with the actual muppets. You're wasting precious time! GET BACK IN YOUR HOLE, RED. ok, where does it– {cut to black} Learning to assimilate and readily avalible What's next A vape to calm the nerves? What's next? A hero fighting for relevance in corporate structure. Sure, some would pay to dress an avatar But I've run out of water before I try to laugh and roll with the punches This is work and not fun for me This is not social, it's business I am not person, I'm product. Go on a walk, and look the part I took the oath, I shed the blood— Cruxes. This is a bad idea, Mark. Fuck you. All my ideas are great. MARK WAHLBERG enters the cooridor and opens the metal double doors, revealing two l jet skis on a trailer hitched to a 4X4 monster truck. [The Festival Project ™] I'm telling you. You got to get yourself one of these. I don't know, Bob, how does it work? BOB odenkirk opens a large, obscure black bag that's nearly half his own size by way of one way zipper. I'll show you. {Enter The Multiverse} JOHNNY CARSON has been in the DRUNK TANK for the maximum allowance, 48 hours, yet his blood alcohol level still reads 3 times over the legal limit. He is transferred to DETOX as the mysterious circumstances surrounding his car accident, and then the apparent disappearance of his entire “car” a (then) brand-new DeLorean from the scene of the crime, MR. CARSON insists on his lawyer, who under no circumstances seems to exist at all being present. The exact year of his whereabouts are still unknown. Still an hour to the test And I hate myself again Milk and cookies, hit the bed Shut it down, yo Shut it down. DIPLO arrives via HELIPAD to an secret location; a sniper squad of the adversary team watches from an adjacent rooftop via binoculars. …hey. Whaddup. You say diplo's on that list? Yeah. Yo… …There he is. In your sight? Yep. Shoot that motherfucker! …I can't. Why not? He's like— Just shoot, fool. —he's like holding something. So? I don't know what; it just seems— What the fuck, dawg. It just seems important. Let me see. Look. [ESSE looks down the sights and zooms to see DIPLO is holding an object firmly in his grasp. He appears to be twirling it purposefully as he conversates wi th associate.] Yeah! Get em! Shoot that motherfucker! Where the hell have you been? In my fuckpad. Where the hell is that? You haven't seen my fuckpad? What even is that. It's ballin. Whatever, dog. Did you get the— Shh. Why else would I be here? [beat] You look— did you cut your hair or something. You're so redundant. Yo shoot that motherfucker. What are you waiting for?! He's right there? Apparently, we've been building to this moment from another dimension in from another point in the series? I thought— {Enter The Multiverse} [The Identity Crisis] The identity crisis, A loose knit muse, A fog of confusion At most, let with offline regaining of conciousness. No more monsters? All blondes are. Let them have you No grapple promotions (I know I can't afford you) New friends for relevance Prototypes of your tools Forward all immortals I'll see you when your shows stop Freckled glances Eyes reflecting light How strong I am Demolish monsters Social structure, constructs Not fair, are I? Nor earned, Only fair skinned Access Access Access denied. Crookshanks, old boy! The man turns around almost as if he doesn't want to, but obliges the other man, as he comes running towards him. My Goodness, you stink. Why of course! I'm a dog! [The Festival Project ™] The Complex Collective © | COPYRIGHT 2018-2025 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED -Ū. {Reposts}

I have eyes in the back of my head I have goats at the top of my bed I have goats on the cap of my knee I think I wrote my own obituary Oh, you hetcha Bitch, you ain't me Shit be poppin off at the rock in 8 minutes exactly In studio 8H That's where I am, Amen again Cause I meant it And I mix in the pancake batter Perhaps some berries? Apparently not, 7 minutes and counting I'm at the Rock Now I'm putting away my don't ask, don't tell Ok. Okay? Okay? Now I'm making arrangements; Don't want to be your favorite, I just miss LA with a hankering Call Hank team USA That's FBI I'm so Walter White that I watch Saturday Night — not live, though I'm too broke for peacock, YouTube And cable! Dang, bro! How many subscriptions do I need Just not to dry myself to sleep. Send me some pictures January jonesing for a free ride scholarship To on God university, Aka: inside the TV DOBT BE EVIL. WRITE ME A SEQUEL! Ok tv people First just let me … son of a bitch! I told you she'd be back. Yo. Whaddup. You killed Jimmy Fallon! I did not. You did! Yes you did. I didn't. He was already like that. What! You heard me! Explain to me how— This man: [This man] *heavy gasps and anxietal wheezing fills the room* Explain this. Metaphisics. That doesn't explain anything. It explains everything, actually. *explodes* Excuse me, miss— do I smell a remix? No, that's pancakes. I got capacity for losers; I'm no longer lonely A broke in horse with no saddle Don't ride me less it's barevack Down and dirty Downhome and in the raw I like to buck And I like it hard A strong gallop and pull, Top speed Why I don't pay for dreams Why I got tv and movie stars in my dreams Why Ariana grande so pretty? Why when we leave outside the crowd still roaring for an e core? Why am I a mogul; Why do I look like a fashion icon? God for it right, I guess but why do I still feel Wildly unsatisfied The lights said I left the water on Turn the lights off Turn the water on I speak color, I am an animal I spoke 9 Gods I am an animal Rise to the occasion I broke the code I threw the rock off the rock k I smoke the fountain I run the block once Come twice Nice shockwave right there Hi God. A beautiful night to die But no time to fall I despaired on desire, Why right on Maine Radio towers Icons Beautiful glimmering city Mayday mayday went haywire Repeat Mayday mayday Went haywire Repeat Mayday mayday Went haywire Now rinse thoroughly Alright, alright. So hawked it. You hawked my father's antique stopwatch?! Sorry. Sorry?! AAAAGG— [The Festival Project ™{ Mayday mayday Went heywire They need more scriptwriters I want an empire I wrote half of the Super Bowl commercials Mayday mayday Oh man. Oh, fuck. You had better wash your hands before you touch my crotch. I don't. Give me—- my— body back. Nope. AUghhhh. My inspiration is dead in the water Can't watch hot ones That guy ruined it Ruined September And ruined October Ruined the cosmos And ruined my song, bro— I'm ruined. My inspiration is dead in the water I am a trash can, Man, this is awkward I won an award for songs post mortem Then I wrote more of them This is the afterlife I'm an immortal. My inspiration is dead in the water I'm just not moved man I need a baseball cap and some phantoms A laxatives Maybe some large hands A ball glove Some box seats Smoked sausage And the dodgers. I wanna go home and not be homeless. I want a condo above four stories. I want the whole world on top of its axis I want the other half of the balance My whole life been whack, Where's the reverse card? Run the tarot— Pull the rewards back, Don't touch the foreskin, Call back the foreman Redact that! Redact that! We're starting to crossfires. We met at the crossroads; One goes down, one goes up. Oh, the Irish are back, look: That's good— I got bored. {enter The multiverse} We were at blue suits and sweater vests And now I know better than To count on comics designed to be weather men Of pop culture— current events a spin on the news l went there for clarity, And left there confused. Confused. If the transmitter is at the World Trade Center, Then why is it every time I to go Rockefeller Center, I feel like I've just been electrocuted? Not enough to die, but like I'm buzzing all over and out of my body? Remarkably, and no matter what — Whenever I'm there, I just feel weird. Like, mad weird. Hey. What. Did you see a guy? I'm a guy. Really? Apparently. Well, I'm looking for this guy. I did see a guy like that. Really? Yeah. He was weird. Which way did he go? Uh. [Sunni BLU points up] Really? He went upstairs? Sure! Huh. Thanks. Whatever. I need you to need me I need me to be cool I need you to want me To love me To free me To love me To hold you I know you I know you I know. Knockout with a scarred lip Knockout was a good guy Knockout got knocked up Knockout had a good try Knockout got knocked out Knockout had a good cry Knockout got locked up Goodbye. Good luck. Here's a chalice. 09. Don't waste time. But I'm tired I'm shadow boxing my mind I'm lights out Candles lit I, I, I I, me, mine And God But I won't waste time I'm still dried out I got my eyes lost Wrapped around you In hindsight I'm behind Blind to the power I love my readheads and range rovers I lost my mind on mullholland Pull over and vomit And suddenly I'm at the Portal Plummet Plaza. [The Festival Project ™ ] The rock and the kite VI Rosie o donnel is chillin. Jimmy Kimmel kicks in the door. Oh look, the cat is back. Meow. To what do I owe the pleasure. You remember that cup of sugar you borrowed? …okay? I need it back. I see. —and my blender. Rosie o donnel takes a deep breath and then sighs. The cup of sugar I can help you with… the blender, I still need. Fair. Follow me. Rosie and Jimmy exit the room, the glimmer of the television still flickering on the green postered armchair with the remote control atop the armrest m; the actual cat (we presume) climbs up into the chair and appears to begin watching the TV? What's on the TV? Why, it's the very orogramme we're all currently tuned into. This just got meta. Again. The cat, looking bored, changes the channel to Garfield. Much better. He looks satisfied now, but is entirely still 199% just a cat. We presume. Your body ponders My eye wander to you're belt buckle My mind watches. Sorry. Your body calls me. My love hurts. I want you. My thought sparkles with the thought of a touch I'm not hungry, I just want you I desire to hold hands and then Dive off I thought you up to love you The time was wrong So now I watch That's all A long rush to nothing Dogtown, Godland. Longboards, longhairs, all body No shine, bro Hard wax, yellow soldier Wavestirm? Epoxy? North shore surf boards Surf harder Fuck New York I wanna go home Panoramic Hollywood golden Who lost apartheid Who first of all Chosen sources First mate Overboard Long hair Wrong rowboat Oh lover Lord of all I almost forgot it was Saturday, Saturday Night I was too busy not working I'm all yours for Passover I'm all ears, And now I get a sense that this Is my last and greatest trick; Disappearing for this, And again forever This is going to take Forever All wrong: You work for the network Interesting choice of wardrobe– another old code magician Ring on opposite finger– The other, I'm so much aware of The ice cream in tubs on the road Not melted, but partially hardened I can also feign confusion You don't say, You don't say, now. Shake hands with your guest; Monologue, monologue smug smirk Make good face– Now put a name to the face Put a time to the place IOh, all the love in the world in three flames All the doves in the flock, And three flames Put a name to the face Monologue monologue Doesnt take long but When do i get to slap the desk? Johnny! What happened? Whats the 10 vodkas, Five spritzers Full figure Figure this You were out for the count! Do tell! Or better yet, don't. I remember tgis mologue, But i dont know how 16 hours ago, I was Out for the count, you say?! OUT, Johnny! Our market is livid! lol who plays john carson Your mother. YO! I'M OLD! I LIKE OLD DUDES NOW! I'm like When the fuck did this happen?! That ain't no SILVER FOX! That's a TOTALLY CUTE DUDE! HE'S 55!! OH NOOOOOOOO! i'M OLD!!!!!!! its wednesday eve in Boston Mass… SETH MEYERS! Ah, he's going for it. Ah, man. SHOW ME YOUR EYES. Fuck. SHOW ME YOUR EYES! SUDAKIS shines a bright flash light into his former colleagues eyes. …You're not Seth Meyers. Seth Meyers does not respond, but relaxes slightly; it's obviously not safe to be Seth Meyers right now. Where's Seth Meyers? Seth shrugs but still doesn't say anything– Where is he? I have to stop here; Cop out for body language somebody's watching Somebody knows who I am I am I remember now You looked like that It went like this: I moved the world The need was good The love was gone The vein was split open And broken No fair Also, no omletts 60 minutes 60 years and 60 second clips 60 second glimpses 60 men on television but really, my attention just centers on Around ten of them or so And believe it or not, I care approach. Believe it or not, I care Or don't! –or don't! Johnny! You don't get it! You missed a show! THE tonight show! We are fucked! we are NOT! youre still sauced. I'll just take the car! What car!? Now that JOHNNY CARSON knows his Delorean can time travel, he's absolutely unstoppable. Unfortunately, it appears his delorean has been switched with a regular one– If I shoot you in your forehead? I'd rather that, than this. And I kiss you in your temple? Dear templeton, my simpleton's i'll die I desire. A wicked want. And then? A callous shadow, If i may, To bear for nothing, But a mirror This is our concept And wilted her e the flower does grow the flame The faming true and ache of lust and there For our want a jasper shore and emerald cascades there you are, And there you'll find The wave beyond the peaking break where great white sharks reside But do not wade to shallow waters; And there you find peace, And there you find certainty But now, And here, is war And fortune not but seeks truth in the gaze And for fear there does not live, but hides instead the truth that seeks to guide the lite, And yet does know our trust And there does find the faith, Forward and not Upwards and back Arrow and arrow Truth and sparrow Wreaking and wretched thoughts And the rope does hang high and solemn Looking, leap and gasp For I fall but did not land I pulled for you, I weep, my shadow, The two of diamonds, the Ace of spades, The Three of Hearts, Without my shadow I weep. I know for you nothing but conscious and knowing and needing and fated departure. I know for you nothing but chakras and eyesight and shadows and foresight. I need fo you nothing but want and by conscious, departure For nothing I want you, I weep. Sorrow. On approach of danger, The knowing, On seeth did gather, the sinking ritual the carried tribes in ships tied, weaving strings The spider bites hard And she stole my love twice And she stole my love always And she stole my love Lighting my light wit blue eyes The deception If love could be stolen at all But if not Then not love for seeking is finding and gathered had hunted And truth in forbearer Forbearance and otherwords, Shadows and shattered and ferris wheels, Now forward Gathered here for are I trust And be dismayed for you have faltered You have failures and you have cast us out of these things thinking We have not made them for you And still we seek to gather with you And here does forshadow your making Our promise to come as ones, Not as Gods, But as others, you cast out. Now, with your wicked ways and cruel be done, for sure the tables have turn, one And the gallows have not wandered far, Barrels of guns and barbells bottles and hearts of three reading cards and wanting none but justice Is he and she who are I now Begin to run from your pitied structure And there in the gasping cruelness of seeking from warcrimes this, come what may, Moving and seeking, For seeking is finding, And run, my legs have come far But trust, my dove, My wings have too, sprouted An honor, an honor one candle and three wicks Three candles and three worlds over One world and one building and still far from under the Hollywoodland Crickets sounding The Hollywood Sign Still standing and here I am not, Blades of grass And who are I now Of that which you balk at Look, ponder Go, far asunder And wish now had you not What I am is that, Run Temper temper. Mind your business. Is it gathered? To burn, or burden? Gathered. Gathered here. Then here ive wandered. To stake? Argue. I will not. And I will not. Wiry bird, From where you flown i do ponder– re d with spirit and wilding eyes, Narrow server and paring wires; I do not wish to know you now or ever, But only as bird that does golden remember. The love has not gone, And instead lives in my throat, And twists in my lungs, Ans sits in my tongue, Not as speech, or whispers, But tragedy. Unknowing this, my tender being It can never be, the nervous hill And rolling down the hill as if The weel of time itself, Not unbroken, but resilient; In sll ways, meant to tear And turn, And wobble Made for terrain for which our eyes have known And our minds have built And hands molded wiith clay, The bodies whole of all our galaxies terra feighn Terra fine Terra wept tears of a clown, And iron And veins And shadows And plays, And secrets , And whispers And truth And far And Afters. I taste a saline drip, I swallow, Suddenly cold and all the knowing that What I was, I surely already am again And what I will be, Has already come and past. The monologue, I do remember Face to a name and none to forget Well rehearsed forager! Well done bayonet! Well done, my shadow For my time is coming to wander to night And never today again for it shall never Today again, And Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow. [The Festival Project ™ ] They said he would destroy me. …Ya'll were right. that fucked me up. {Enter The Multiverse} So…forfeit? Something tells me its not over The heavy heart is shattered But also tied to that which appears to come upward As if on air To be heavy And lighthearted at once– A shadow above a balloon. A rock is attached to a kite– A diamond becomes a bassoon, Then a vampire bat, and then Cut ties. In the fourth act, we all die, and now– A revival. I was crucified, But i was also suicidal so. Lets just call it a tie. L E G E N D S V.O. Crusher. My show was being subliminally plugged on at least two of the five major networks. Safe bet I could make it a third, but I didn't know where to check. I did…but didn't want to. There was much beyond the surface, Darkness in the glimmering eyes of the men in ties and uniformed suits. I was sure I was tied to something– And since I didn't know why, Or to what, The best bet I'm all in. Fuck. Was to stay broken, Under the radar, Hidden, and most importantly– Unspoken. These days. I kept more to myself than I could with the world– As it turned out… No, not yet. What do you mean? It's not time yet. They'll have to know. But not yet. At some point, they'll have to know. But not–yet. No time like the present. You made that up. Because you made up time. And it's stupid. This is ruthless. And again–they'll have to learn somehow. But not now. The sun sets at noon on our side, and still 21 hours of dark time. Did I have another tag to throw on it this? No. Are you sure? Doesn't the new series have a subtitle? No. Is it not “quantum force” That's only one, though. What's the difference. ERMO, DON'T! I'm gonna kill him! BIG BOYD, DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT! DOn't tell me what to DO. Wow. of course. Well yeah, they're not going to let me do– LAWYERS No. Any of this stuff with the actual muppets. You're wasting precious time! GET BACK IN YOUR HOLE, RED. ok, where does it– {cut to black} Learning to assimilate and readily avalible What's next A vape to calm the nerves? What's next? A hero fighting for relevance in corporate structure. Sure, some would pay to dress an avatar But I've run out of water before I try to laugh and roll with the punches This is work and not fun for me This is not social, it's business I am not person, I'm product. Go on a walk, and look the part I took the oath, I shed the blood— Cruxes. This is a bad idea, Mark. Fuck you. All my ideas are great. MARK WAHLBERG enters the cooridor and opens the metal double doors, revealing two l jet skis on a trailer hitched to a 4X4 monster truck. [The Festival Project ™] I'm telling you. You got to get yourself one of these. I don't know, Bob, how does it work? BOB odenkirk opens a large, obscure black bag that's nearly half his own size by way of one way zipper. I'll show you. {Enter The Multiverse} JOHNNY CARSON has been in the DRUNK TANK for the maximum allowance, 48 hours, yet his blood alcohol level still reads 3 times over the legal limit. He is transferred to DETOX as the mysterious circumstances surrounding his car accident, and then the apparent disappearance of his entire “car” a (then) brand-new DeLorean from the scene of the crime, MR. CARSON insists on his lawyer, who under no circumstances seems to exist at all being present. The exact year of his whereabouts are still unknown. Still an hour to the test And I hate myself again Milk and cookies, hit the bed Shut it down, yo Shut it down. DIPLO arrives via HELIPAD to an secret location; a sniper squad of the adversary team watches from an adjacent rooftop via binoculars. …hey. Whaddup. You say diplo's on that list? Yeah. Yo… …There he is. In your sight? Yep. Shoot that motherfucker! …I can't. Why not? He's like— Just shoot, fool. —he's like holding something. So? I don't know what; it just seems— What the fuck, dawg. It just seems important. Let me see. Look. [ESSE looks down the sights and zooms to see DIPLO is holding an object firmly in his grasp. He appears to be twirling it purposefully as he conversates wi th associate.] Yeah! Get em! Shoot that motherfucker! Where the hell have you been? In my fuckpad. Where the hell is that? You haven't seen my fuckpad? What even is that. It's ballin. Whatever, dog. Did you get the— Shh. Why else would I be here? [beat] You look— did you cut your hair or something. You're so redundant. Yo shoot that motherfucker. What are you waiting for?! He's right there? Apparently, we've been building to this moment from another dimension in from another point in the series? I thought— {Enter The Multiverse} [The Identity Crisis] The identity crisis, A loose knit muse, A fog of confusion At most, let with offline regaining of conciousness. No more monsters? All blondes are. Let them have you No grapple promotions (I know I can't afford you) New friends for relevance Prototypes of your tools Forward all immortals I'll see you when your shows stop Freckled glances Eyes reflecting light How strong I am Demolish monsters Social structure, constructs Not fair, are I? Nor earned, Only fair skinned Access Access Access denied. Crookshanks, old boy! The man turns around almost as if he doesn't want to, but obliges the other man, as he comes running towards him. My Goodness, you stink. Why of course! I'm a dog! [The Festival Project ™] The Complex Collective © | COPYRIGHT 2018-2025 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED -Ū. {Reposts}

Https://www.iamu.guru “THE FLUFFER” I have eyes in the back of my head I have goats at the top of my bed I have goats on the cap of my knee I think I wrote my own obituary Oh, you hetcha Bitch, you ain't me Shit be poppin off at the rock in 8 minutes exactly In studio 8H That's where I am, Amen again Cause I meant it And I mix in the pancake batter Perhaps some berries? Apparently not, 7 minutes and counting I'm at the Rock Now I'm putting away my don't ask, don't tell Ok. Okay? Okay? Now I'm making arrangements; Don't want to be your favorite, I just miss LA with a hankering Call Hank team USA That's FBI I'm so Walter White that I watch Saturday Night — not live, though I'm too broke for peacock, YouTube And cable! Dang, bro! How many subscriptions do I need Just not to cry myself to sleep. Send me some pictures January jonesing for a free ride scholarship To on God university, Aka: inside the TV DOBT BE EVIL. WRITE ME A SEQUEL! Ok TV people First just let me … son of a bitch! I told you she'd be back. Yo. Whaddup. You killed Jimmy Fallon! I did not. You did! Yes you did. I didn't. He was already like that. What! You heard me! Explain to me how— This man: [This man] *heavy gasps and anxietal wheezing fills the room* Explain this. Metaphisics. That doesn't explain anything. It explains everything, actually. *explodes* Excuse me, miss— do I smell a remix? No, that's pancakes. I got zero capacity for losers; I'm no longer lonely A broke in horse with no saddle Don't ride me less it's bareback Down and dirty Downhome and in the raw I like to buck And I like it hard A strong gallop and pull, Top speed Why I don't pay for dreams Why I got TV and movie stars in my dreams Why Ariana Grande so pretty? Why when we leave outside the crowd still roaring for an eNcore? Why am I a mogul; Why do I look like a fashion icon? God got it right, I guess but why do I still feel Wildly unsatisfied The lights said I left the water on Turn the lights off Turn the water on I speak color, I am an animal I spoke 9 Gods I am an animal Rise to the occasion I broke the code I threw the rock off the rock I smoke the fountain I run the block once Come twice Nice shockwave right there Hi God. A beautiful night to die But no time to fall I despaired on desire, Why right on Maine Radio towers Icons Beautiful glimmering city Mayday mayday went haywire Repeat Mayday mayday Went haywire Repeat Mayday mayday Went haywire Now rinse thoroughly Alright, alright. So hawked it. You hawked my father's antique stopwatch?! Sorry. Sorry?! AAAAGG— [The Festival Project ™] Mayday mayday Went heywire They need more scriptwriters I want an empire I wrote half of the Super Bowl commercials Mayday mayday Oh man. Oh, fuck. You had better wash your hands before you touch my crotch. I don't. Give me—- my— body back. Nope. AUghhhh. My inspiration is dead in the water Can't watch hot ones That guy ruined it Ruined September And ruined October Ruined the cosmos And ruined my song, bro— I'm ruined. My inspiration is dead in the water I am a trash can, Man, this is awkward I won an award for songs post mortem Then I wrote more of them This is the afterlife I'm an immortal. My inspiration is dead in the water I'm just not moved, man I need a baseball cap and some phantoms A laxative Maybe some large hands A ball glove Some box seats Smoked sausage And the dodgers. I wanna go home and not be homeless. I want a condo above four stories. I want the whole world on top of its axis I want the other half of the balance My whole life been whack, Where's the reverse card? Run the tarot— Pull the rewards back, Don't touch the foreskin, Call back the foreman Redact that! Redact that! We're starting to cross fires. We met at the crossroads; One goes down, one goes up. Oh, the Irish are back, look: That's good— I got bored. {Enter The multiverse} We were at blue suits and sweater vests And now I know better than To count on comics designed to be weather men Of pop culture— current events a spin on the news l went there for clarity, And left there confused. Confused. If the transmitter is at the World Trade Center, Then why is it every time I to go Rockefeller, I feel like I've just been electrocuted? Not enough to die, but like I'm buzzing all over and out of my body? Remarkably, and no matter what — Whenever I'm there, I just feel weird. Like, mad weird. Hey. What. Did you see a guy? I'm a guy. Really? Apparently. Well, I'm looking for this guy. I did see a guy like that. Really? Yeah. He was weird. Which way did he go? Uh. [Sunni BLU points up] Really? He went upstairs? Sure! Huh. Thanks. Whatever. I need you to need me I need me to be cool I need you to want me To love me To free me To love me To hold you I know you I know you I know. Knockout with a scarred lip Knockout was a good guy Knockout got knocked up Knockout had a good try Knockout got knocked out Knockout had a good cry Knockout got locked up Goodbye. Good luck. Here's a chalice. [09. Don't waste time.] But I'm tired I'm shadow boxing my mind I'm lights out Candles lit I, I, I I, me, mine And God But I won't waste time I'm still dried out I got my eyes lost Wrapped around you In hindsight I'm behind Blind to the power I love my readheads and range rovers I lost my mind on Mulholland Pull over and vomit And suddenly I'm at the— Portal Plummet Plaza. [The Festival Project ™ ] The rock and the kite VI Ahem. “The Rock and The Kite VI” ROSIE O'DONNEL is chillin. JIMMY KIMMEL kicks in the door. ROSIE Oh look, the cat is back. BIG JIMMY Meow. ROSIE To what do I owe the pleasure. BIG JIMMY You remember that cup of sugar you borrowed? ROSIE …okay? BIG JIMMY I need it back. ROSIE [beat] I see. BIG JIMMY —and my blender. ROSIE O DONNEL takes a deep breath and then sighs. ROSIE The cup of sugar I can help you with… the blender, I still need. BIG JIMMY [KIMMEL] Fair. ROSIE Follow me. ROSIE AND JIMMY exit the room, the glimmer of the television still flickering on the green upholstered armchair with the remote control atop the armrest; the actual CAT (we presume) climbs up into the chair and appears to begin watching the TV? What's on the TV? Why, it's the very programme we're all currently tuned into. This just got meta. Again. The CAR, looking bored, changes the channel to Garfield. Much better. He looks satisfied now, but is entirely still 199% just a cat. We presume. Your body ponders My eye wander to your belt buckle My mind watches. Sorry. Your body calls me. My love hurts. I want you. My thought sparkles with the thought of a touch I'm not hungry, I just want you I desire to hold hands and then Dive off I thought you up to love you The time was wrong So now I watch That's all A long rush to nothing. Dogtown, Godland. Longboards, longhairs, all body No shine, bro Hard wax, yellow soldier Wavestorm? Epoxy? North shore surf boards Surf harder Fuck New York I wanna go home Panoramic Hollywood golden Who lost apartheid Who first of all Chosen sources First mate Overboard Long hair Wrong rowboat Oh lover Lord of all [The Festival Project ™] I almost forgot it was Saturday, Saturday Night I was too busy not working I'm all yours for Passover I'm all ears, And now I get a sense that this Is my last and greatest trick; Disappearing for this, And again forever This is going to take Forever All wrong: You work for the network Interesting choice of wardrobe– another old code magician Ring on opposite finger– The other, I'm so much aware of The ice cream in tubs on the road Not melted, but partially hardened I can also feign confusion You don't say, You don't say, now. {Enter The Multiverse} Shake hands with your guest; Monologue, monologue smug smirk Make good face– Now put a name to the face Put a time to the place Oh, all the love in the world in three flames All the doves in the flock, And three flames Put a name to the face Monologue monologue Doesn't take long but When do i get to slap the desk? Johnny! JOHNNY CARSON is wearing the usual getup and a pair of very dark sunglasses. What happened? Whats the- 10 vodkas, Five spritzers Full figure Figure this You were out for the count! Do tell! Or better yet, don't. I remember This monologue, But i dont know how 16 hours ago, I was— Out for the count, you say?! OUT, Johnny! Our market is livid! lol who plays john carson Your mother. YO! I'M OLD! I LIKE OLD DUDES NOW! I'm like When the fuck did this happen?! That ain't no SILVER FOX! That's a TOTALLY CUTE DUDE! HE'S 55!! OH NOOOOOOOO! i'M OLD!!!!!!! its wednesday eve in Boston Mass… SETH MEYERS! Ah, he's going for it. Ah, man. SHOW ME YOUR EYES. Fuck. SHOW ME YOUR EYES! SUDAKIS shines a bright flash light into his former colleagues eyes. …You're not Seth Meyers. Seth Meyers does not respond, but relaxes slightly; it's obviously not safe to be Seth Meyers right now. Where's Seth Meyers? Seth shrugs but still doesn't say anything– Where is he? I have to stop here; Cop out for body language somebody's watching Somebody knows who I am I am I remember now You looked like that It went like this: I moved the world The need was good The love was gone The vein was split open And broken No fair Also, no omelettes 60 minutes 60 years and 60 second clips 60 second glimpses 60 men on television but really, my attention just centers on Around ten of them or so And believe it or not, I care approach. Believe it or not, I care Or don't! –or don't! Johnny! You don't get it! You missed a show! THE Tonight show! We are fucked! we are NOT! youre still sauced. I'll just take the car! What car!? Now that JOHNNY CARSON knows his Delorean can time travel, he's absolutely unstoppable. Unfortunately, it appears his DeLorean has been switched with a regular one– If I shoot you in your forehead? I'd rather that, than this. And I kiss you in your temple? Dear templeton, my simpleton's i'll die I desire. A wicked want. And then? A callous shadow, If i may, To bear for nothing, But a mirror This is our concept And wilted here the flower does grow the flame The flaming true and ache of lust and there For our want a jasper shore and emerald cascades there you are, And there you'll find The wave beyond the peaking break where great white sharks reside But do not wade to shallow waters; And there you find peace, And there you find certainty But now, And here, is war And fortune not but seeks truth in the gaze And for fear there does not live, but hides instead the truth that seeks to guide the lite, And yet does know our trust And there does find the faith, Forward and not Upwards and back Arrow and arrow Truth and sparrow Wreaking and wretched thoughts And the rope does hang high and solemn Looking, leap and gasp For I fall but did not land I pulled for you, I weep, my shadow, The two of diamonds, the Ace of spades, The Three of Hearts, Without my shadow I weep. I know for you nothing but conscious and knowing and needing and fated departure. I know for you nothing but chakras and eyesight and shadows and foresight. I need fo you nothing but want and by conscious, departure For nothing I want you, I weep. Sorrow. On approach of danger, The knowing, On seeth did gather, the sinking ritual the carried tribes in ships tied, weaving strings The spider bites hard And she stole my love twice And she stole my love always And she stole my love Lighting my light wit blue eyes The deception If love could be stolen at all But if not Then not love for seeking is finding and gathered had hunted And truth in forbearer Forbearance and otherwords, Shadows and shattered and ferris wheels, Now forward Gathered here for are I trust And be dismayed for you have faltered You have failures and you have cast us out of these things thinking We have not made them for you And still we seek to gather with you And here does forshadow your making Our promise to come as ones, Not as Gods, But as others, you cast out. Now, with your wicked ways and cruel be done, for sure the tables have turn, one And the gallows have not wandered far, Barrels of guns and barbells bottles and hearts of three reading cards and wanting none but justice Is he and she who are I now Begin to run from your pitied structure And there in the gasping cruelness of seeking from warcrimes this, come what may, Moving and seeking, For seeking is finding, And run, my legs have come far But trust, my dove, My wings have too, sprouted An honor, an honor one candle and three wicks Three candles and three worlds over One world and one building and still far from under the Hollywoodland Crickets sounding The Hollywood Sign Still standing and here I am not, Blades of grass And who are I now Of that which you balk at Look, ponder Go, far asunder And wish now had you not What I am is that, Run Temper temper. Mind your business. Is it gathered? To burn, or burden? Gathered. Gathered here. Then here ive wandered. To stake? Argue. I will not. And I will not. Wiry bird, From where you flown i do ponder– red with spirit and wilding eyes, Narrow server and paring wires; I do not wish to know you now or ever, But only as bird that does golden remember. The love has not gone, And instead lives in my throat, And twists in my lungs, Ans sits in my tongue, Not as speech, or whispers, But tragedy. Unknowing this, my tender being It can never be, the nervous hill And rolling down the hill as if The weel of time itself, Not unbroken, but resilient; In sll ways, meant to tear And turn, And wobble Made for terrain for which our eyes have known And our minds have built And hands molded wiith clay, The bodies whole of all our galaxies terra feighn Terra fine Terra wept tears of a clown, And iron And veins And shadows And plays, And secrets , And whispers And truth And far And Afters. I taste a saline drip, I swallow, Suddenly cold and all the knowing that What I was, I surely already am again And what I will be, Has already come and past. The monologue, I do remember Face to a name and none to forget Well rehearsed forager! Well done bayonet! Well done, my shadow For my time is coming to wander to night And never today again for it shall never Today again, And Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow. [The Festival Project ™ ] They said he would destroy me. …Ya'll were right. that fucked me up. {Enter The Multiverse} So…forfeit? Something tells me its not over The heavy heart is shattered But also tied to that which appears to come upward As if on air To be heavy And lighthearted at once– A shadow above a balloon. A rock is attached to a kite– A diamond becomes a bassoon, Then a vampire bat, and then Cut ties. In the fourth act, we all die, and now– A revival. I was crucified, But i was also suicidal so. Lets just call it a tie. L E G E N D S V.O. Crusher. My show was being subliminally plugged on at least two of the five major networks. Safe bet I could make it a third, but I didn't know where to check. I did…but didn't want to. There was much beyond the surface, Darkness in the glimmering eyes of the men in ties and uniformed suits. I was sure I was tied to something– And since I didn't know why, Or to what, The best bet— I'm all in. Fuck. Was to stay broken, Under the radar, Hidden, and most importantly– Unspoken. These days. I kept more to myself than I could with the world– As it turned out… No, not yet. What do you mean? It's not time yet. They'll have to know. But not yet. At some point, they'll have to know. But not–yet. No time like the present. You made that up. Because you made up time. And it's stupid. This is ruthless. And again–they'll have to learn somehow. But not now. The sun sets at noon on our side, and still 21 hours of dark time. Did I have another tag to throw on it this? No. Are you sure? Doesn't the new series have a subtitle? No. Is it not “quantum force” That's only one, though. What's the difference. ERMO, DON'T! I'm gonna kill him! BIG BOYD, DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT! DOn't tell me what to DO. Wow. of course. Well yeah, they're not going to let me do– LAWYERS No. Any of this stuff with the actual muppets. CO-OH-NO-NAN You're wasting precious time! GET BACK IN YOUR HOLE, RED. ok, where does it– {cut to black} Learning to assimilate and readily available What's next A vape to calm the nerves? What's next? A hero fighting for relevance in corporate structure. Sure, some would pay to dress an avatar But I've run out of water before I try to laugh and roll with the punches This is work and not fun for me This is not social, it's business I am not person, I'm product. Go on a walk, and look the part I took the oath, I shed the blood— Cruxes. This is a bad idea, Mark. Fuck you. All my ideas are great. MARK WAHLBERG enters the cooridor and opens the metal double doors, revealing two l jet skis on a trailer hitched to a 4X4 monster truck. [The Festival Project ™] I'm telling you. You got to get yourself one of these. I don't know, Bob, how does it work? BOB odenkirk opens a large, obscure black bag that's nearly half his own size by way of one way zipper. I'll show you. {Enter The Multiverse} JOHNNY CARSON has been in the DRUNK TANK for the maximum allowance, 48 hours, yet his blood alcohol level still reads 3 times over the legal limit. He is transferred to DETOX as the mysterious circumstances surrounding his car accident, and then the apparent disappearance of his entire “car” a (then) brand-new DeLorean from the scene of the crime, MR. CARSON insists on his lawyer, who under no circumstances seems to exist at all being present. The exact year of his whereabouts are still unknown. Still an hour to the test And I hate myself again Milk and cookies, hit the bed Shut it down, yo Shut it down. DIPLO arrives via HELIPAD to an secret location; a sniper squad of the adversary team watches from an adjacent rooftop via binoculars. …hey. Whaddup. You say diplo's on that list? Yeah. Yo… …There he is. In your sight? Yep. Shoot that motherfucker! …I can't. Why not? He's like— Just shoot, fool. —he's like holding something. So? I don't know what; it just seems— What the fuck, dawg. It just seems important. Let me see. Look. [ESSE looks down the sights and zooms to see DIPLO is holding an object firmly in his grasp. He appears to be twirling it purposefully as he converses with his associate.] Yeah! Get em! Shoot that motherfucker! Where the hell have you been? In my fuckpad. Where the hell is that? You haven't seen my fuckpad? What even is that. It's ballin. Whatever, dog. Did you get the— Shh. Why else would I be here? [beat] You look— did you cut your hair or something. You're so redundant. Yo shoot that motherfucker. What are you waiting for?! He's right there? Apparently, we've been building to this moment from another dimension in from another point in the series? I thought— {Enter The Multiverse} {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2022 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

Https://www.iamu.guru “THE FLUFFER” I have eyes in the back of my head I have goats at the top of my bed I have goats on the cap of my knee I think I wrote my own obituary Oh, you hetcha Bitch, you ain't me Shit be poppin off at the rock in 8 minutes exactly In studio 8H That's where I am, Amen again Cause I meant it And I mix in the pancake batter Perhaps some berries? Apparently not, 7 minutes and counting I'm at the Rock Now I'm putting away my don't ask, don't tell Ok. Okay? Okay? Now I'm making arrangements; Don't want to be your favorite, I just miss LA with a hankering Call Hank team USA That's FBI I'm so Walter White that I watch Saturday Night — not live, though I'm too broke for peacock, YouTube And cable! Dang, bro! How many subscriptions do I need Just not to cry myself to sleep. Send me some pictures January jonesing for a free ride scholarship To on God university, Aka: inside the TV DOBT BE EVIL. WRITE ME A SEQUEL! Ok TV people First just let me … son of a bitch! I told you she'd be back. Yo. Whaddup. You killed Jimmy Fallon! I did not. You did! Yes you did. I didn't. He was already like that. What! You heard me! Explain to me how— This man: [This man] *heavy gasps and anxietal wheezing fills the room* Explain this. Metaphisics. That doesn't explain anything. It explains everything, actually. *explodes* Excuse me, miss— do I smell a remix? No, that's pancakes. I got zero capacity for losers; I'm no longer lonely A broke in horse with no saddle Don't ride me less it's bareback Down and dirty Downhome and in the raw I like to buck And I like it hard A strong gallop and pull, Top speed Why I don't pay for dreams Why I got TV and movie stars in my dreams Why Ariana Grande so pretty? Why when we leave outside the crowd still roaring for an eNcore? Why am I a mogul; Why do I look like a fashion icon? God got it right, I guess but why do I still feel Wildly unsatisfied The lights said I left the water on Turn the lights off Turn the water on I speak color, I am an animal I spoke 9 Gods I am an animal Rise to the occasion I broke the code I threw the rock off the rock I smoke the fountain I run the block once Come twice Nice shockwave right there Hi God. A beautiful night to die But no time to fall I despaired on desire, Why right on Maine Radio towers Icons Beautiful glimmering city Mayday mayday went haywire Repeat Mayday mayday Went haywire Repeat Mayday mayday Went haywire Now rinse thoroughly Alright, alright. So hawked it. You hawked my father's antique stopwatch?! Sorry. Sorry?! AAAAGG— [The Festival Project ™] Mayday mayday Went heywire They need more scriptwriters I want an empire I wrote half of the Super Bowl commercials Mayday mayday Oh man. Oh, fuck. You had better wash your hands before you touch my crotch. I don't. Give me—- my— body back. Nope. AUghhhh. My inspiration is dead in the water Can't watch hot ones That guy ruined it Ruined September And ruined October Ruined the cosmos And ruined my song, bro— I'm ruined. My inspiration is dead in the water I am a trash can, Man, this is awkward I won an award for songs post mortem Then I wrote more of them This is the afterlife I'm an immortal. My inspiration is dead in the water I'm just not moved, man I need a baseball cap and some phantoms A laxative Maybe some large hands A ball glove Some box seats Smoked sausage And the dodgers. I wanna go home and not be homeless. I want a condo above four stories. I want the whole world on top of its axis I want the other half of the balance My whole life been whack, Where's the reverse card? Run the tarot— Pull the rewards back, Don't touch the foreskin, Call back the foreman Redact that! Redact that! We're starting to cross fires. We met at the crossroads; One goes down, one goes up. Oh, the Irish are back, look: That's good— I got bored. {Enter The multiverse} We were at blue suits and sweater vests And now I know better than To count on comics designed to be weather men Of pop culture— current events a spin on the news l went there for clarity, And left there confused. Confused. If the transmitter is at the World Trade Center, Then why is it every time I to go Rockefeller, I feel like I've just been electrocuted? Not enough to die, but like I'm buzzing all over and out of my body? Remarkably, and no matter what — Whenever I'm there, I just feel weird. Like, mad weird. Hey. What. Did you see a guy? I'm a guy. Really? Apparently. Well, I'm looking for this guy. I did see a guy like that. Really? Yeah. He was weird. Which way did he go? Uh. [Sunni BLU points up] Really? He went upstairs? Sure! Huh. Thanks. Whatever. I need you to need me I need me to be cool I need you to want me To love me To free me To love me To hold you I know you I know you I know. Knockout with a scarred lip Knockout was a good guy Knockout got knocked up Knockout had a good try Knockout got knocked out Knockout had a good cry Knockout got locked up Goodbye. Good luck. Here's a chalice. [09. Don't waste time.] But I'm tired I'm shadow boxing my mind I'm lights out Candles lit I, I, I I, me, mine And God But I won't waste time I'm still dried out I got my eyes lost Wrapped around you In hindsight I'm behind Blind to the power I love my readheads and range rovers I lost my mind on Mulholland Pull over and vomit And suddenly I'm at the— Portal Plummet Plaza. [The Festival Project ™ ] The rock and the kite VI Ahem. “The Rock and The Kite VI” ROSIE O'DONNEL is chillin. JIMMY KIMMEL kicks in the door. ROSIE Oh look, the cat is back. BIG JIMMY Meow. ROSIE To what do I owe the pleasure. BIG JIMMY You remember that cup of sugar you borrowed? ROSIE …okay? BIG JIMMY I need it back. ROSIE [beat] I see. BIG JIMMY —and my blender. ROSIE O DONNEL takes a deep breath and then sighs. ROSIE The cup of sugar I can help you with… the blender, I still need. BIG JIMMY [KIMMEL] Fair. ROSIE Follow me. ROSIE AND JIMMY exit the room, the glimmer of the television still flickering on the green upholstered armchair with the remote control atop the armrest; the actual CAT (we presume) climbs up into the chair and appears to begin watching the TV? What's on the TV? Why, it's the very programme we're all currently tuned into. This just got meta. Again. The CAR, looking bored, changes the channel to Garfield. Much better. He looks satisfied now, but is entirely still 199% just a cat. We presume. Your body ponders My eye wander to your belt buckle My mind watches. Sorry. Your body calls me. My love hurts. I want you. My thought sparkles with the thought of a touch I'm not hungry, I just want you I desire to hold hands and then Dive off I thought you up to love you The time was wrong So now I watch That's all A long rush to nothing. Dogtown, Godland. Longboards, longhairs, all body No shine, bro Hard wax, yellow soldier Wavestorm? Epoxy? North shore surf boards Surf harder Fuck New York I wanna go home Panoramic Hollywood golden Who lost apartheid Who first of all Chosen sources First mate Overboard Long hair Wrong rowboat Oh lover Lord of all [The Festival Project ™] I almost forgot it was Saturday, Saturday Night I was too busy not working I'm all yours for Passover I'm all ears, And now I get a sense that this Is my last and greatest trick; Disappearing for this, And again forever This is going to take Forever All wrong: You work for the network Interesting choice of wardrobe– another old code magician Ring on opposite finger– The other, I'm so much aware of The ice cream in tubs on the road Not melted, but partially hardened I can also feign confusion You don't say, You don't say, now. {Enter The Multiverse} Shake hands with your guest; Monologue, monologue smug smirk Make good face– Now put a name to the face Put a time to the place Oh, all the love in the world in three flames All the doves in the flock, And three flames Put a name to the face Monologue monologue Doesn't take long but When do i get to slap the desk? Johnny! JOHNNY CARSON is wearing the usual getup and a pair of very dark sunglasses. What happened? Whats the- 10 vodkas, Five spritzers Full figure Figure this You were out for the count! Do tell! Or better yet, don't. I remember This monologue, But i dont know how 16 hours ago, I was— Out for the count, you say?! OUT, Johnny! Our market is livid! lol who plays john carson Your mother. YO! I'M OLD! I LIKE OLD DUDES NOW! I'm like When the fuck did this happen?! That ain't no SILVER FOX! That's a TOTALLY CUTE DUDE! HE'S 55!! OH NOOOOOOOO! i'M OLD!!!!!!! its wednesday eve in Boston Mass… SETH MEYERS! Ah, he's going for it. Ah, man. SHOW ME YOUR EYES. Fuck. SHOW ME YOUR EYES! SUDAKIS shines a bright flash light into his former colleagues eyes. …You're not Seth Meyers. Seth Meyers does not respond, but relaxes slightly; it's obviously not safe to be Seth Meyers right now. Where's Seth Meyers? Seth shrugs but still doesn't say anything– Where is he? I have to stop here; Cop out for body language somebody's watching Somebody knows who I am I am I remember now You looked like that It went like this: I moved the world The need was good The love was gone The vein was split open And broken No fair Also, no omelettes 60 minutes 60 years and 60 second clips 60 second glimpses 60 men on television but really, my attention just centers on Around ten of them or so And believe it or not, I care approach. Believe it or not, I care Or don't! –or don't! Johnny! You don't get it! You missed a show! THE Tonight show! We are fucked! we are NOT! youre still sauced. I'll just take the car! What car!? Now that JOHNNY CARSON knows his Delorean can time travel, he's absolutely unstoppable. Unfortunately, it appears his DeLorean has been switched with a regular one– If I shoot you in your forehead? I'd rather that, than this. And I kiss you in your temple? Dear templeton, my simpleton's i'll die I desire. A wicked want. And then? A callous shadow, If i may, To bear for nothing, But a mirror This is our concept And wilted here the flower does grow the flame The flaming true and ache of lust and there For our want a jasper shore and emerald cascades there you are, And there you'll find The wave beyond the peaking break where great white sharks reside But do not wade to shallow waters; And there you find peace, And there you find certainty But now, And here, is war And fortune not but seeks truth in the gaze And for fear there does not live, but hides instead the truth that seeks to guide the lite, And yet does know our trust And there does find the faith, Forward and not Upwards and back Arrow and arrow Truth and sparrow Wreaking and wretched thoughts And the rope does hang high and solemn Looking, leap and gasp For I fall but did not land I pulled for you, I weep, my shadow, The two of diamonds, the Ace of spades, The Three of Hearts, Without my shadow I weep. I know for you nothing but conscious and knowing and needing and fated departure. I know for you nothing but chakras and eyesight and shadows and foresight. I need fo you nothing but want and by conscious, departure For nothing I want you, I weep. Sorrow. On approach of danger, The knowing, On seeth did gather, the sinking ritual the carried tribes in ships tied, weaving strings The spider bites hard And she stole my love twice And she stole my love always And she stole my love Lighting my light wit blue eyes The deception If love could be stolen at all But if not Then not love for seeking is finding and gathered had hunted And truth in forbearer Forbearance and otherwords, Shadows and shattered and ferris wheels, Now forward Gathered here for are I trust And be dismayed for you have faltered You have failures and you have cast us out of these things thinking We have not made them for you And still we seek to gather with you And here does forshadow your making Our promise to come as ones, Not as Gods, But as others, you cast out. Now, with your wicked ways and cruel be done, for sure the tables have turn, one And the gallows have not wandered far, Barrels of guns and barbells bottles and hearts of three reading cards and wanting none but justice Is he and she who are I now Begin to run from your pitied structure And there in the gasping cruelness of seeking from warcrimes this, come what may, Moving and seeking, For seeking is finding, And run, my legs have come far But trust, my dove, My wings have too, sprouted An honor, an honor one candle and three wicks Three candles and three worlds over One world and one building and still far from under the Hollywoodland Crickets sounding The Hollywood Sign Still standing and here I am not, Blades of grass And who are I now Of that which you balk at Look, ponder Go, far asunder And wish now had you not What I am is that, Run Temper temper. Mind your business. Is it gathered? To burn, or burden? Gathered. Gathered here. Then here ive wandered. To stake? Argue. I will not. And I will not. Wiry bird, From where you flown i do ponder– red with spirit and wilding eyes, Narrow server and paring wires; I do not wish to know you now or ever, But only as bird that does golden remember. The love has not gone, And instead lives in my throat, And twists in my lungs, Ans sits in my tongue, Not as speech, or whispers, But tragedy. Unknowing this, my tender being It can never be, the nervous hill And rolling down the hill as if The weel of time itself, Not unbroken, but resilient; In sll ways, meant to tear And turn, And wobble Made for terrain for which our eyes have known And our minds have built And hands molded wiith clay, The bodies whole of all our galaxies terra feighn Terra fine Terra wept tears of a clown, And iron And veins And shadows And plays, And secrets , And whispers And truth And far And Afters. I taste a saline drip, I swallow, Suddenly cold and all the knowing that What I was, I surely already am again And what I will be, Has already come and past. The monologue, I do remember Face to a name and none to forget Well rehearsed forager! Well done bayonet! Well done, my shadow For my time is coming to wander to night And never today again for it shall never Today again, And Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow. [The Festival Project ™ ] They said he would destroy me. …Ya'll were right. that fucked me up. {Enter The Multiverse} So…forfeit? Something tells me its not over The heavy heart is shattered But also tied to that which appears to come upward As if on air To be heavy And lighthearted at once– A shadow above a balloon. A rock is attached to a kite– A diamond becomes a bassoon, Then a vampire bat, and then Cut ties. In the fourth act, we all die, and now– A revival. I was crucified, But i was also suicidal so. Lets just call it a tie. L E G E N D S V.O. Crusher. My show was being subliminally plugged on at least two of the five major networks. Safe bet I could make it a third, but I didn't know where to check. I did…but didn't want to. There was much beyond the surface, Darkness in the glimmering eyes of the men in ties and uniformed suits. I was sure I was tied to something– And since I didn't know why, Or to what, The best bet— I'm all in. Fuck. Was to stay broken, Under the radar, Hidden, and most importantly– Unspoken. These days. I kept more to myself than I could with the world– As it turned out… No, not yet. What do you mean? It's not time yet. They'll have to know. But not yet. At some point, they'll have to know. But not–yet. No time like the present. You made that up. Because you made up time. And it's stupid. This is ruthless. And again–they'll have to learn somehow. But not now. The sun sets at noon on our side, and still 21 hours of dark time. Did I have another tag to throw on it this? No. Are you sure? Doesn't the new series have a subtitle? No. Is it not “quantum force” That's only one, though. What's the difference. ERMO, DON'T! I'm gonna kill him! BIG BOYD, DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT! DOn't tell me what to DO. Wow. of course. Well yeah, they're not going to let me do– LAWYERS No. Any of this stuff with the actual muppets. CO-OH-NO-NAN You're wasting precious time! GET BACK IN YOUR HOLE, RED. ok, where does it– {cut to black} Learning to assimilate and readily available What's next A vape to calm the nerves? What's next? A hero fighting for relevance in corporate structure. Sure, some would pay to dress an avatar But I've run out of water before I try to laugh and roll with the punches This is work and not fun for me This is not social, it's business I am not person, I'm product. Go on a walk, and look the part I took the oath, I shed the blood— Cruxes. This is a bad idea, Mark. Fuck you. All my ideas are great. MARK WAHLBERG enters the cooridor and opens the metal double doors, revealing two l jet skis on a trailer hitched to a 4X4 monster truck. [The Festival Project ™] I'm telling you. You got to get yourself one of these. I don't know, Bob, how does it work? BOB odenkirk opens a large, obscure black bag that's nearly half his own size by way of one way zipper. I'll show you. {Enter The Multiverse} JOHNNY CARSON has been in the DRUNK TANK for the maximum allowance, 48 hours, yet his blood alcohol level still reads 3 times over the legal limit. He is transferred to DETOX as the mysterious circumstances surrounding his car accident, and then the apparent disappearance of his entire “car” a (then) brand-new DeLorean from the scene of the crime, MR. CARSON insists on his lawyer, who under no circumstances seems to exist at all being present. The exact year of his whereabouts are still unknown. Still an hour to the test And I hate myself again Milk and cookies, hit the bed Shut it down, yo Shut it down. DIPLO arrives via HELIPAD to an secret location; a sniper squad of the adversary team watches from an adjacent rooftop via binoculars. …hey. Whaddup. You say diplo's on that list? Yeah. Yo… …There he is. In your sight? Yep. Shoot that motherfucker! …I can't. Why not? He's like— Just shoot, fool. —he's like holding something. So? I don't know what; it just seems— What the fuck, dawg. It just seems important. Let me see. Look. [ESSE looks down the sights and zooms to see DIPLO is holding an object firmly in his grasp. He appears to be twirling it purposefully as he converses with his associate.] Yeah! Get em! Shoot that motherfucker! Where the hell have you been? In my fuckpad. Where the hell is that? You haven't seen my fuckpad? What even is that. It's ballin. Whatever, dog. Did you get the— Shh. Why else would I be here? [beat] You look— did you cut your hair or something. You're so redundant. Yo shoot that motherfucker. What are you waiting for?! He's right there? Apparently, we've been building to this moment from another dimension in from another point in the series? I thought— {Enter The Multiverse} {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2022 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

Https://www.iamu.guru “THE FLUFFER” I have eyes in the back of my head I have goats at the top of my bed I have goats on the cap of my knee I think I wrote my own obituary Oh, you hetcha Bitch, you ain't me Shit be poppin off at the rock in 8 minutes exactly In studio 8H That's where I am, Amen again Cause I meant it And I mix in the pancake batter Perhaps some berries? Apparently not, 7 minutes and counting I'm at the Rock Now I'm putting away my don't ask, don't tell Ok. Okay? Okay? Now I'm making arrangements; Don't want to be your favorite, I just miss LA with a hankering Call Hank team USA That's FBI I'm so Walter White that I watch Saturday Night — not live, though I'm too broke for peacock, YouTube And cable! Dang, bro! How many subscriptions do I need Just not to cry myself to sleep. Send me some pictures January jonesing for a free ride scholarship To on God university, Aka: inside the TV DOBT BE EVIL. WRITE ME A SEQUEL! Ok TV people First just let me … son of a bitch! I told you she'd be back. Yo. Whaddup. You killed Jimmy Fallon! I did not. You did! Yes you did. I didn't. He was already like that. What! You heard me! Explain to me how— This man: [This man] *heavy gasps and anxietal wheezing fills the room* Explain this. Metaphisics. That doesn't explain anything. It explains everything, actually. *explodes* Excuse me, miss— do I smell a remix? No, that's pancakes. I got zero capacity for losers; I'm no longer lonely A broke in horse with no saddle Don't ride me less it's bareback Down and dirty Downhome and in the raw I like to buck And I like it hard A strong gallop and pull, Top speed Why I don't pay for dreams Why I got TV and movie stars in my dreams Why Ariana Grande so pretty? Why when we leave outside the crowd still roaring for an eNcore? Why am I a mogul; Why do I look like a fashion icon? God got it right, I guess but why do I still feel Wildly unsatisfied The lights said I left the water on Turn the lights off Turn the water on I speak color, I am an animal I spoke 9 Gods I am an animal Rise to the occasion I broke the code I threw the rock off the rock I smoke the fountain I run the block once Come twice Nice shockwave right there Hi God. A beautiful night to die But no time to fall I despaired on desire, Why right on Maine Radio towers Icons Beautiful glimmering city Mayday mayday went haywire Repeat Mayday mayday Went haywire Repeat Mayday mayday Went haywire Now rinse thoroughly Alright, alright. So hawked it. You hawked my father's antique stopwatch?! Sorry. Sorry?! AAAAGG— [The Festival Project ™] Mayday mayday Went heywire They need more scriptwriters I want an empire I wrote half of the Super Bowl commercials Mayday mayday Oh man. Oh, fuck. You had better wash your hands before you touch my crotch. I don't. Give me—- my— body back. Nope. AUghhhh. My inspiration is dead in the water Can't watch hot ones That guy ruined it Ruined September And ruined October Ruined the cosmos And ruined my song, bro— I'm ruined. My inspiration is dead in the water I am a trash can, Man, this is awkward I won an award for songs post mortem Then I wrote more of them This is the afterlife I'm an immortal. My inspiration is dead in the water I'm just not moved, man I need a baseball cap and some phantoms A laxative Maybe some large hands A ball glove Some box seats Smoked sausage And the dodgers. I wanna go home and not be homeless. I want a condo above four stories. I want the whole world on top of its axis I want the other half of the balance My whole life been whack, Where's the reverse card? Run the tarot— Pull the rewards back, Don't touch the foreskin, Call back the foreman Redact that! Redact that! We're starting to cross fires. We met at the crossroads; One goes down, one goes up. Oh, the Irish are back, look: That's good— I got bored. {Enter The multiverse} We were at blue suits and sweater vests And now I know better than To count on comics designed to be weather men Of pop culture— current events a spin on the news l went there for clarity, And left there confused. Confused. If the transmitter is at the World Trade Center, Then why is it every time I to go Rockefeller, I feel like I've just been electrocuted? Not enough to die, but like I'm buzzing all over and out of my body? Remarkably, and no matter what — Whenever I'm there, I just feel weird. Like, mad weird. Hey. What. Did you see a guy? I'm a guy. Really? Apparently. Well, I'm looking for this guy. I did see a guy like that. Really? Yeah. He was weird. Which way did he go? Uh. [Sunni BLU points up] Really? He went upstairs? Sure! Huh. Thanks. Whatever. I need you to need me I need me to be cool I need you to want me To love me To free me To love me To hold you I know you I know you I know. Knockout with a scarred lip Knockout was a good guy Knockout got knocked up Knockout had a good try Knockout got knocked out Knockout had a good cry Knockout got locked up Goodbye. Good luck. Here's a chalice. [09. Don't waste time.] But I'm tired I'm shadow boxing my mind I'm lights out Candles lit I, I, I I, me, mine And God But I won't waste time I'm still dried out I got my eyes lost Wrapped around you In hindsight I'm behind Blind to the power I love my readheads and range rovers I lost my mind on Mulholland Pull over and vomit And suddenly I'm at the— Portal Plummet Plaza. [The Festival Project ™ ] The rock and the kite VI Ahem. “The Rock and The Kite VI” ROSIE O'DONNEL is chillin. JIMMY KIMMEL kicks in the door. ROSIE Oh look, the cat is back. BIG JIMMY Meow. ROSIE To what do I owe the pleasure. BIG JIMMY You remember that cup of sugar you borrowed? ROSIE …okay? BIG JIMMY I need it back. ROSIE [beat] I see. BIG JIMMY —and my blender. ROSIE O DONNEL takes a deep breath and then sighs. ROSIE The cup of sugar I can help you with… the blender, I still need. BIG JIMMY [KIMMEL] Fair. ROSIE Follow me. ROSIE AND JIMMY exit the room, the glimmer of the television still flickering on the green upholstered armchair with the remote control atop the armrest; the actual CAT (we presume) climbs up into the chair and appears to begin watching the TV? What's on the TV? Why, it's the very programme we're all currently tuned into. This just got meta. Again. The CAR, looking bored, changes the channel to Garfield. Much better. He looks satisfied now, but is entirely still 199% just a cat. We presume. Your body ponders My eye wander to your belt buckle My mind watches. Sorry. Your body calls me. My love hurts. I want you. My thought sparkles with the thought of a touch I'm not hungry, I just want you I desire to hold hands and then Dive off I thought you up to love you The time was wrong So now I watch That's all A long rush to nothing. Dogtown, Godland. Longboards, longhairs, all body No shine, bro Hard wax, yellow soldier Wavestorm? Epoxy? North shore surf boards Surf harder Fuck New York I wanna go home Panoramic Hollywood golden Who lost apartheid Who first of all Chosen sources First mate Overboard Long hair Wrong rowboat Oh lover Lord of all [The Festival Project ™] I almost forgot it was Saturday, Saturday Night I was too busy not working I'm all yours for Passover I'm all ears, And now I get a sense that this Is my last and greatest trick; Disappearing for this, And again forever This is going to take Forever All wrong: You work for the network Interesting choice of wardrobe– another old code magician Ring on opposite finger– The other, I'm so much aware of The ice cream in tubs on the road Not melted, but partially hardened I can also feign confusion You don't say, You don't say, now. {Enter The Multiverse} Shake hands with your guest; Monologue, monologue smug smirk Make good face– Now put a name to the face Put a time to the place Oh, all the love in the world in three flames All the doves in the flock, And three flames Put a name to the face Monologue monologue Doesn't take long but When do i get to slap the desk? Johnny! JOHNNY CARSON is wearing the usual getup and a pair of very dark sunglasses. What happened? Whats the- 10 vodkas, Five spritzers Full figure Figure this You were out for the count! Do tell! Or better yet, don't. I remember This monologue, But i dont know how 16 hours ago, I was— Out for the count, you say?! OUT, Johnny! Our market is livid! lol who plays john carson Your mother. YO! I'M OLD! I LIKE OLD DUDES NOW! I'm like When the fuck did this happen?! That ain't no SILVER FOX! That's a TOTALLY CUTE DUDE! HE'S 55!! OH NOOOOOOOO! i'M OLD!!!!!!! its wednesday eve in Boston Mass… SETH MEYERS! Ah, he's going for it. Ah, man. SHOW ME YOUR EYES. Fuck. SHOW ME YOUR EYES! SUDAKIS shines a bright flash light into his former colleagues eyes. …You're not Seth Meyers. Seth Meyers does not respond, but relaxes slightly; it's obviously not safe to be Seth Meyers right now. Where's Seth Meyers? Seth shrugs but still doesn't say anything– Where is he? I have to stop here; Cop out for body language somebody's watching Somebody knows who I am I am I remember now You looked like that It went like this: I moved the world The need was good The love was gone The vein was split open And broken No fair Also, no omelettes 60 minutes 60 years and 60 second clips 60 second glimpses 60 men on television but really, my attention just centers on Around ten of them or so And believe it or not, I care approach. Believe it or not, I care Or don't! –or don't! Johnny! You don't get it! You missed a show! THE Tonight show! We are fucked! we are NOT! youre still sauced. I'll just take the car! What car!? Now that JOHNNY CARSON knows his Delorean can time travel, he's absolutely unstoppable. Unfortunately, it appears his DeLorean has been switched with a regular one– If I shoot you in your forehead? I'd rather that, than this. And I kiss you in your temple? Dear templeton, my simpleton's i'll die I desire. A wicked want. And then? A callous shadow, If i may, To bear for nothing, But a mirror This is our concept And wilted here the flower does grow the flame The flaming true and ache of lust and there For our want a jasper shore and emerald cascades there you are, And there you'll find The wave beyond the peaking break where great white sharks reside But do not wade to shallow waters; And there you find peace, And there you find certainty But now, And here, is war And fortune not but seeks truth in the gaze And for fear there does not live, but hides instead the truth that seeks to guide the lite, And yet does know our trust And there does find the faith, Forward and not Upwards and back Arrow and arrow Truth and sparrow Wreaking and wretched thoughts And the rope does hang high and solemn Looking, leap and gasp For I fall but did not land I pulled for you, I weep, my shadow, The two of diamonds, the Ace of spades, The Three of Hearts, Without my shadow I weep. I know for you nothing but conscious and knowing and needing and fated departure. I know for you nothing but chakras and eyesight and shadows and foresight. I need fo you nothing but want and by conscious, departure For nothing I want you, I weep. Sorrow. On approach of danger, The knowing, On seeth did gather, the sinking ritual the carried tribes in ships tied, weaving strings The spider bites hard And she stole my love twice And she stole my love always And she stole my love Lighting my light wit blue eyes The deception If love could be stolen at all But if not Then not love for seeking is finding and gathered had hunted And truth in forbearer Forbearance and otherwords, Shadows and shattered and ferris wheels, Now forward Gathered here for are I trust And be dismayed for you have faltered You have failures and you have cast us out of these things thinking We have not made them for you And still we seek to gather with you And here does forshadow your making Our promise to come as ones, Not as Gods, But as others, you cast out. Now, with your wicked ways and cruel be done, for sure the tables have turn, one And the gallows have not wandered far, Barrels of guns and barbells bottles and hearts of three reading cards and wanting none but justice Is he and she who are I now Begin to run from your pitied structure And there in the gasping cruelness of seeking from warcrimes this, come what may, Moving and seeking, For seeking is finding, And run, my legs have come far But trust, my dove, My wings have too, sprouted An honor, an honor one candle and three wicks Three candles and three worlds over One world and one building and still far from under the Hollywoodland Crickets sounding The Hollywood Sign Still standing and here I am not, Blades of grass And who are I now Of that which you balk at Look, ponder Go, far asunder And wish now had you not What I am is that, Run Temper temper. Mind your business. Is it gathered? To burn, or burden? Gathered. Gathered here. Then here ive wandered. To stake? Argue. I will not. And I will not. Wiry bird, From where you flown i do ponder– red with spirit and wilding eyes, Narrow server and paring wires; I do not wish to know you now or ever, But only as bird that does golden remember. The love has not gone, And instead lives in my throat, And twists in my lungs, Ans sits in my tongue, Not as speech, or whispers, But tragedy. Unknowing this, my tender being It can never be, the nervous hill And rolling down the hill as if The weel of time itself, Not unbroken, but resilient; In sll ways, meant to tear And turn, And wobble Made for terrain for which our eyes have known And our minds have built And hands molded wiith clay, The bodies whole of all our galaxies terra feighn Terra fine Terra wept tears of a clown, And iron And veins And shadows And plays, And secrets , And whispers And truth And far And Afters. I taste a saline drip, I swallow, Suddenly cold and all the knowing that What I was, I surely already am again And what I will be, Has already come and past. The monologue, I do remember Face to a name and none to forget Well rehearsed forager! Well done bayonet! Well done, my shadow For my time is coming to wander to night And never today again for it shall never Today again, And Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow. [The Festival Project ™ ] They said he would destroy me. …Ya'll were right. that fucked me up. {Enter The Multiverse} So…forfeit? Something tells me its not over The heavy heart is shattered But also tied to that which appears to come upward As if on air To be heavy And lighthearted at once– A shadow above a balloon. A rock is attached to a kite– A diamond becomes a bassoon, Then a vampire bat, and then Cut ties. In the fourth act, we all die, and now– A revival. I was crucified, But i was also suicidal so. Lets just call it a tie. L E G E N D S V.O. Crusher. My show was being subliminally plugged on at least two of the five major networks. Safe bet I could make it a third, but I didn't know where to check. I did…but didn't want to. There was much beyond the surface, Darkness in the glimmering eyes of the men in ties and uniformed suits. I was sure I was tied to something– And since I didn't know why, Or to what, The best bet— I'm all in. Fuck. Was to stay broken, Under the radar, Hidden, and most importantly– Unspoken. These days. I kept more to myself than I could with the world– As it turned out… No, not yet. What do you mean? It's not time yet. They'll have to know. But not yet. At some point, they'll have to know. But not–yet. No time like the present. You made that up. Because you made up time. And it's stupid. This is ruthless. And again–they'll have to learn somehow. But not now. The sun sets at noon on our side, and still 21 hours of dark time. Did I have another tag to throw on it this? No. Are you sure? Doesn't the new series have a subtitle? No. Is it not “quantum force” That's only one, though. What's the difference. ERMO, DON'T! I'm gonna kill him! BIG BOYD, DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT! DOn't tell me what to DO. Wow. of course. Well yeah, they're not going to let me do– LAWYERS No. Any of this stuff with the actual muppets. CO-OH-NO-NAN You're wasting precious time! GET BACK IN YOUR HOLE, RED. ok, where does it– {cut to black} Learning to assimilate and readily available What's next A vape to calm the nerves? What's next? A hero fighting for relevance in corporate structure. Sure, some would pay to dress an avatar But I've run out of water before I try to laugh and roll with the punches This is work and not fun for me This is not social, it's business I am not person, I'm product. Go on a walk, and look the part I took the oath, I shed the blood— Cruxes. This is a bad idea, Mark. Fuck you. All my ideas are great. MARK WAHLBERG enters the cooridor and opens the metal double doors, revealing two l jet skis on a trailer hitched to a 4X4 monster truck. [The Festival Project ™] I'm telling you. You got to get yourself one of these. I don't know, Bob, how does it work? BOB odenkirk opens a large, obscure black bag that's nearly half his own size by way of one way zipper. I'll show you. {Enter The Multiverse} JOHNNY CARSON has been in the DRUNK TANK for the maximum allowance, 48 hours, yet his blood alcohol level still reads 3 times over the legal limit. He is transferred to DETOX as the mysterious circumstances surrounding his car accident, and then the apparent disappearance of his entire “car” a (then) brand-new DeLorean from the scene of the crime, MR. CARSON insists on his lawyer, who under no circumstances seems to exist at all being present. The exact year of his whereabouts are still unknown. Still an hour to the test And I hate myself again Milk and cookies, hit the bed Shut it down, yo Shut it down. DIPLO arrives via HELIPAD to an secret location; a sniper squad of the adversary team watches from an adjacent rooftop via binoculars. …hey. Whaddup. You say diplo's on that list? Yeah. Yo… …There he is. In your sight? Yep. Shoot that motherfucker! …I can't. Why not? He's like— Just shoot, fool. —he's like holding something. So? I don't know what; it just seems— What the fuck, dawg. It just seems important. Let me see. Look. [ESSE looks down the sights and zooms to see DIPLO is holding an object firmly in his grasp. He appears to be twirling it purposefully as he converses with his associate.] Yeah! Get em! Shoot that motherfucker! Where the hell have you been? In my fuckpad. Where the hell is that? You haven't seen my fuckpad? What even is that. It's ballin. Whatever, dog. Did you get the— Shh. Why else would I be here? [beat] You look— did you cut your hair or something. You're so redundant. Yo shoot that motherfucker. What are you waiting for?! He's right there? Apparently, we've been building to this moment from another dimension in from another point in the series? I thought— {Enter The Multiverse} {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2022 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

Make a donation to Unity Center of Norwalk⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Prayer for All Seasons and All Reasons - A Prayer for UnknowingRev. Arlene Meyer @ Unity Center of Norwalk CT (4/6/25)on YouTube at  ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠http://www.youtube.com/c/UnityCenterNorwalk⁠⁠

In this episode of Together for Good, we explore the transformative practice of Centering Prayer with Ron Rinkle, a former academic and marketing executive who has discovered deep spiritual renewal through this contemplative approach.Ron shares how Centering Prayer speaks to the modern challenges of self-identity, time, and love, offering a countercultural rhythm of stillness in a world driven by noise and productivity. With a unique blend of psychological and sociological insights, he unpacks the ways this practice fosters inner peace, strengthens faith, and deepens our awareness of God's presence.If you've ever felt that traditional prayer methods weren't working for you—or if you're curious about how silence can become a powerful tool for spiritual growth—this conversation is for you.In This Episode:

“I could hear Brigid hammering at the forge—but couldn't reach her.”This Substack is reader-supported. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.In this New Moon episode of Creation's Paths, Charlie and Brian invite you into the sacred uncertainty of the Via Negativa—the path of unknowing. As strange energy stirs around us, they explore feelings of anticipation, anger, and divine movement echoing across both mundane and spiritual realms.They reflect on:The collective sense of change felt by spiritual communities online and in-personEntering the Cloud of Unknowing as a spiritual practiceThe spiritual significance of the New Moon and a partial solar eclipseTheir personal journeywork experiences, including distant glimpses of goddesses like Brigid, Sarasvati, and ParvatiA spontaneous goddess oracle card reading that weaves themes of justice, knowledge, and transformationThis episode isn't about having answers—it's about opening doors to new questions. It's a gentle meditation on discernment, ego release, and collective intuition, wrapped in mysticism, storytelling, and hope.Thanks for reading! This post is public so feel free to share it.Thank you for Tips / Donations: * https://ko-fi.com/cedorsett * https://patreon.com/cedorsett * https://cash.app/$CreationsPaths* Substack: New to The Seraphic Grove learn more For Educational Resource: https://wisdomscry.com --- A Christopagan Manifesto--- Answer to the Call: A Dream of an Oak ChurchSocial Connections: * BlueSky https://bsky.app/profile/creationspaths.com * Threads https://www.threads.net/@creationspaths * Instagram https://www.instagram.com/creationspaths/#Christopagan #CreationSpirituality #ChristianWitch #Paganism #Esoteric #Magic #Druidry #Mysticism #Spirituality #Occult #WitchCraft #Wicca #IrishPaganism #CelticPaganism #Magick #Polytheism #Enchantment Chapters:00:00 Introduction and Setting the Scene01:15 Meet the Hosts: Charlie and Brian02:38 Exploring the Via Nativa03:47 The Role of Ego and Uncertainty06:21 Interpreting the Energy Around Us09:29 Meditation and Journeying Insights15:07 Card Reading and Symbolism24:16 Concluding Thoughts and Call to Action Get full access to Creation's Paths at www.creationspaths.com/subscribe

We Are The Knight Ep #224: Batman - Unknowing Welcome back to We Are The Knight: The Batman Podcast! This time Phil & Lilith review Detective Comics #758-#760 (July-September 2001) featuring Mad Hatter's takeover of the GCPD and events with Batman and Sasha Bordeaux come to a head. PLUS: reviews of NEW issues Batman: Full Moon #4, Two-Face #4, Poison Ivy #31, Batgirl #5 and Birds of Prey #19.   Tune in today and don't forget to review the show on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, YouTube, and anywhere else you can!     We Are The Knight's Links  → Bluesky https://bsky.app/profile/capesnetwork.bsky.social → Twitter https://twitter.com/TheBatmanPodcst → Instagram https://www.instagram.com/clsidekicks → Facebook https://www.facebook.com/TheBatmanPodcst → YouTube https://www.youtube.com/c/CapesandLunatics   ==================  

What is lent, and why should we practice it? How do we find the invitation of Lent in the story of David, and what do we do when we feel disoriented and like we're hitting a wall? Dave and Chris talk about the challenges of realizing that we aren't God, and how we can learn and practice trusting Him as we journey inward in moments of un-knowing.

Welcome to another transformative episode of the Daily Living for Christ podcast! Today, we take a deeper look at The Four Consents—a powerful framework for embracing humility, surrender, and divine union with God. These four consents—Life and Creation, Growth and Development, Limitation and Diminishment, and Transformation and Union—offer us a path to living freely in God's love, apart from striving or self-reliance.What does it mean to truly say yes to God? How does humility free us from both pride and despair? Through biblical insights, the wisdom of The Cloud of Unknowing, and Jesus' example of self-emptying (kenosis), we uncover how consenting to God's presence and action in our lives is the very definition of true humility.In this episode, we'll explore:✅ Consent to Life and Creation—Accepting that we are loved and redeemed by grace, not by effort✅ Consent to Growth and Development—Trusting God's work within us rather than striving for self-perfection✅ Consent to Limitation and Diminishment—Releasing control and embracing the freedom of surrender✅ Consent to Transformation and Union with God—Letting go of all that separates us from divine loveJesus said, “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” (Matthew 11:29). The Four Consents reveal that His yoke is light because it is not about our effort, but our surrender.Are you ready to step into a deeper, freer, and more intimate walk with Christ? Download the episode now, and be sure to subscribe so you don't miss more life-changing conversations on spiritual wholeness, transformation, and the journey to union with Christ!"Have Questions, Send us a Message" This podcast is a production of The Center for Biblical Coaching and Leadership. If this episode has been useful or inspiring to you in any way, please share it with someone else. Lastly, please subscribe to the show and write a review.Visit our website, tcbcl.org, to learn more about our mission and vision.

What is the difference between Not Knowing and Unknowing? How might the practice of Unknowing deepen the Mystic's Path? In this episode, we contemplate the wisdom of the North Node and Neptune conjunction in Pisces. Read more about Gene Key 36 here. I currently offer 2025 Clarity Alchemy, a 2-session package designed to help you cut through the internal fog, clarify your desires and intentions for 2025, and connect with your internal compass. Book here.For private mentorship and coaching, apply here.Listen to & purchase my new song Friends on Bandcamp. You can also listen to it on your favorite streaming platforms.Try the incredible breathwork and meditation app Open for 30 days free using this special link. This podcast is hosted, produced, and edited by Jonathan Koe. Theme music is also composed by me! Connect with me through my newsletter, my Instagram @jonathankoeofficial, and my music. For podcast-related inquiries, email me at healingthespiritpodcast@gmail.com.

During this episode a quote from the book, "The Cloud of Unknowing". "When your soul is engaged in contemplation, it doesn't worry or feel doubt. It's totally at peace because it knows exactly what it's supposed to do."

Are you there God? It's me…Why is God hidden? Why is God silent? And why does that matter in light of faith, hope, and love?In this episode, philosopher Deborah Casewell joins Evan Rosa for a discussion of divine hiddenness. Together, they reflect on:Simone Weil's distinction between abdication and abandonmentMartin Luther's theology of the crossThe differences between the epistemic, moral, and existential problems with the hiddenness of GodThe terror, horror, and fear that emerges from the human experience of divine hiddennessThe realities of seeing through a glass darkly and pursuing faith, hope, and loveAnd finally, what it means to live bravely in the tension or contracdition between the hiddenness of God and the faith in God's presence.About Deborah CasewellDeborah Casewell is Associate Professor in Philosophy at the University of Chester. She works in the areas of philosophy and culture, philosophy of religion, and theology & religion, in particular on existentialism and religion, questions of ethics and self-formation in relation to asceticism and the German cultural ideal of Bildung. She has given a number of public talks and published on these topics in a range of settings.Her first book. Eberhard Jüngel and Existence, Being Before the Cross, was published in 2021: it explores the theologian Eberhard Jüngel's philosophical inheritance and how his thought provides a useful paradigm for the relation between philosophy and theology. Her second book, Monotheism and Existentialism, was published in 2022 by Cambridge University Press as a Cambridge Element.She is Co-Director of the AHRC-funded Simone Weil Research Network UK, and previously held a Humboldt Research Fellowship at the University of Bonn. Prior to her appointment in Bonn, she was Lecturer in Philosophy at Liverpool Hope University and a Teaching Fellow at King's College, London. She received her PhD from the University of Edinburgh, my MSt from the University of Oxford, and spent time researching and studying at the University of Tübingen and the Institut Catholique de Paris.Show NotesMother Teresa on God's hiddennessMother Teresa: Come Be My Light, edited by the Rev. Brian KolodiejchukWhat does it mean for God to be hidden?Perceived absenceSimone Weil on God's abdication of the world for the sake of the worldThe presence of God. This should be understood in two ways. As Creator, God is present in everything which exists as soon as it exists. The presence for which God needs the co-operation of the creature is the presence of God, not as Creator but as Spirit. The first presence is the presence of creation. The second is the presence of decreation. (He who created us without our help will not save us without our consent. Saint Augustine.) God could create only by hiding himself. Otherwise there would be nothing but himself. — Simone Weil, in Gravity and Grace, “Decreation”Abdication vs. AbandonmentA longing for God, who is hidden, unknown, unperceived, and mysteriousMartin Luther's theology of the cross“Hidden in the suffering and ignominy of the cross.”“God is powerful but chooses not to be in relation to us.”Human experiences of divine hiddennessThree ways to talk about hiddenness of God epistemic hiddenness:  ”if we were to grasp God with our minds, then we'd be denying the power of God.”Making ourselves an idolThe Cloud of Unknowing and “apophatic” or “negative” theology (only saying what God is not) Moral hiddenness of God: “this is what people find very troubling. … a moral terror to it.” Existential hiddenness of God: “where the hiddenness of God makes you feel terrified”Revelation and the story of human encounter or engagement with God“Luther is the authority on the hiddenness of God in the existential and moral sense.”The power of God revealed in terror.“God never becomes comfortable or accommodated into our measure.””We never make God into an object of our reason and comfort.”Terror, horror, and fear: reverence of GodMarilyn McCord Adams, *Christ & Horrors—*meaning-destroying events“That which is hidden terrifies us.”Martin Luther: “God is terrifying, because God does save some of us, and God does damn some of us.”The “alien work of God”“Is Luther right in saying that God has to remain hidden, and the way in which God has to remain hidden  has to be terrifying? So there has to be this kind  of background of the terrifying God in all of our relations with the God of love that is the God of grace that, that saves us.”Preserving the mystery of GodWe're unable to commodify or trivialize God.Francis Schaeffer's He Is There and He Is Not Silent“Luther construes it as a good thing.”Suffering, anxiety, despair, meaninglessnessHumanity's encounter with nothingness—the void“Interest in the demonic, or terror, as a preliminary step into a  full religious or a proper religious experience of God.”Longing for God in the BibleNoah, Moses, David“The other side of divine hiddenness is human loneliness.”Loneliness and despair as “what your life is going to be like without God.” (Barton Newell)Tension in the experience of faith1 Corinthians 13:12:  ”Now we see through a glass darkly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know even as I also am known.”Faith, hope, and love abides in the face of epistemic, moral, and existential hiddenness of God.The meaning of struggling with the hiddenness of God for the human pursuit of faith, hope, and love“Let tensions be.””But you've always got to keep the reality of faith, hope, and love, keep hold of the fact that that is a reality, and that can and will be a reality. It's, it's, not to try and justify it, not to try and harmonize it, but just to hold it, I suppose. And hold it even in its contradiction.”Production NotesThis podcast featured Deborah CasewellEdited and Produced by Evan RosaHosted by Evan RosaProduction Assistance by Emily Brookfield, Alexa Rollow, & Zoë HalabanA Production of the Yale Center for Faith & Culture at Yale Divinity School https://faith.yale.edu/aboutSupport For the Life of the World podcast by giving to the Yale Center for Faith & Culture: https://faith.yale.edu/give

You know how much I love to have amazing, creative and innovative guests on the show and my guest today is amazing in this. Her name is Kayla Subica, she a writer, actress, creator of the musical Happy Medium, a medium and a Tarot Reading! Who says you can't be all you want to be? Kayla' story is truly amazing and it simply shows that we are all born with special gifts, and it's by following our intuition that those gifts can help us find ourselves and live life expressing our true potential, with joy, harmony, love and, in this case, having fun helping others. She shares her early experiences with tarot and mediumship, including a transformative palm reading at 16 and her father's skepticism due to past manipulative mediums. She describes her business, Uplifting Tarot, which focuses on positive readings, and her mediumship practice, which involves improvised readings and audience engagement. Kayla encourages others to embrace their unique paths and not let fear of judgment hinder their growth. Ready to be uplifted??! In this episode we talk about: Kayla shares that she took spirituality very seriously as a child, feeling a strong connection to a source and enjoying the feeling of shutting out the world during prayers. She recounts her family's skepticism and fear around spirituality, particularly due to her Portuguese heritage and her father's past experiences with manipulative mediums. The first palm reading at 16 left a deep impression on her, resonating with her on a profound level and making her feel seen and understood by a stranger. Kayla discusses her father's strong reaction to her interest in tarot and mediumship, which she attributes to his past experiences with manipulative mediums.  Kayla emphasizes the importance of having personal experiences with spirituality to truly understand and believe in it, rather than relying on external validation. She describes the creation of Uplifting Tarot, which focuses on reading tarot in a positive and supportive way, highlighting the medicine and lessons in each card. Kayla shares her approach to mediumship, which involves allowing herself to be open and sharing whatever comes up during sessions, even if it seems outlandish. Kayla recounts her first mediumship session, which was initiated by a spontaneous encounter with her father's face during a workout. She describes the process of taking a mediumship class and practicing with strangers to build her confidence and skills. Kayla talks about the importance of being the unknowing fool and trusting that the process will work out, even if it seems uncertain. She shares her experiences with skepticism and judgment from others, and how she has learned to let go of these fears and embrace her unique path. Kayla highlights the importance of self-acceptance and not seeking external validation, which has allowed her to grow and thrive in her spiritual and creative pursuits.  Kayla explains that "Happy Medium" is a play she created that combines her skills as a singer, actor, and medium, allowing her to perform live readings for the audience. The show includes elements of improvisation and audience participation, creating a fun and interactive experience. If you are ready to connect with your passed loved one or simply have a better understanding of the energies of the moment in your life, Kayla is your person!   CONNECT WITH KAYLA www.kaylasubica.com www.instagram.com/kaylasubica CONNECT WITH ME https://www.theintuitionqueen.com/ IG: https://www.instagram.com/the_intuition_queen/ WATCH ON YOU TUBE: https://www.youtube.com/@maramarchesi-theintuitionq3852 LEAVE A REVIEW: https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast/intuitive-queens-podcast/id1477108959

Fairy tales, they're not just for kids you know, suggests Tadhg O'Sullivan in his latest Cloud of Unknowing.

Sermon One (in Walshe, Complete Mystical Works) has become known as capturing the essence of Meister Eckhart's thought. “Here, in time, we are celebrating the eternal birth which God the Father bore and bears unceasingly in eternity, because this same birth is now born in time, in human nature.” And why does this lofty thought matter? “What does it avail me that this birth is happening, if it does not happen in me? That it should happen in me is what matters.”Eckhart, therefore, offers a corrective to the way Christianity and indeed Christmas is usually articulated today. Where does this birth take place? Not in Bethlehem, not in a stable, not around 4BC, not even from Mary, but primarily “in the very purest, loftiest, subtlest part that the soul is capable of”.Only, is this itself not only too rarefied a form of Christianity, but one inadequate to our times, in denial of moral imperatives or simply a gospel of spiritual bypassing?In fact, precisely the opposite is the case. Without that birth of the Word in the soul, Christianity's moral meaning is lost, its injunctions become pathways to demoralisation, with the happiness promised transitory or elusive.Eckhart, therefore, has crucial things to say to a church dedicated to filling people up with experiences and demands, as well as a time keen on practices that miss the stillness and silence he argues is fundamental.Rather, alongside the author of The Cloud of Unknowing and Mother Julian, Eckhart preaches the direct and easy path, that depends not on our efforts but on a capacity to not know and stay before the ground from which the Word is born.Unity with God is the purpose and promise of life - the secret that I feel is regularly absent in presentations of Christianity, though so much sought and needed.

A listener calls in to discuss being an unknowing Other Woman. Her cheater had three other families, as it turns out, including her child. She asks for understanding for those in complicated family situations. Children of cheaters are victims too. 

Money matters 10 UNKNOWING ACCOMPLICE

Unknowing author

I hear no voices in my head And from what I can tell There are none, Only frequencies, And frequencies, And frequencies And recently I've been eating Whatever it is that suits me, Though not whenever And everyday I wish I were A little bit better off A little less bitter A little higher up A little lighter skin A little lighter, Like a feather Wish Misinformed imperfection Military introspection Complexities and such Division and acknowledgement Of no higher power other than One's own Sacred stones; Sorry stories, Sinister canisters of Abandonment Unintentional neglect, depression Non-representation Don't participate in it, If there's nothing there for you Fair hero, Your story was worn in As your uniform, Not new and polished at all And in disposition, regulation, But already threaded to have been Camped in, and eventually— Left to die, then Recovered autonomously. Riverbend, will you wither here In less than a year, I beg for death And still was pardoned, Still I was sacrificed; Still, I was pardoned —still, I was sacrificed. I had not expected to hang this low Without having been picked Or falling to seed anew. I had not bittered, nor broken Nor bittered, nor broken And still I was pardoned, Still I was sacrificed Still I was pardoned, and still I was sacrificed Death comes in tolls Knock the door once Death comes in soft warnings I didn't want to hurt her; I didn't want to harm her Suddenly my heart died, Suddenly on front lines with no boots And no armor, No shield and no cannons, No sword at all, and still I was pardoned I had not bittered, nor broken Nor bittered, nor broken And still I was pardoned, Still I was sacrificed Still I was pardoned, and still I was sacrificed Secrets of the Illuminati Elite. Kamala. Mm. When was the last time you cried? —. … —I— have never cried. I believe you. {Enter The Multiverse} I hadn't been planning on writing at all, and leaving the house—the last time I had taken the risk of doing so on such a day, I was nearly trampled by beady eyed racists in MAGA hats and star spangled banner t-shirts— glared, shoved and patonized—and what's worse— I had been 8 months pregnant. Maybe it was worse in that aspect, I was part of the problem. But— What was the actual problem again? Never ever pay you fares for ferry, fairy monster Never prick for pixies, golden dust and megapixels, Whimsical, into the ore and out of the forest, Disassociate before it's too late! The propaganda of the product. The human American. The human— American. dare I to wander? Dare I to dream! Then I was wicked; I was wicked I was wicked I had grown so dark And so tall the tree Still untouched by any or all Still untouched by mankind, it is Still untouched by mankind, by many By many By many By many By many. Bye Annie. Buy again Buy buy baby Buy all you can while you still come Christmas is coming Out and unleashed is the dragon How's that spiced cider And a song, For your coloring books and Maps to scale Your coloring books And maps to scale Wayfinder Wayfinder Bury you hither Bury you hidden Hypocrisy, hypocracy Hydroponic cry for help A wish to window seat Then, and there Then, and there Northernbound, Wayfinder The end of us The taking of tire marks. Just a smidgen armegeddon of corn syrup And tears on the brink of falling over the shores to the well The velvet windows, winds on lips and colors red on purple Color red on purple Hypocrisy! Wait for it, Wait to call the number Wait to up the bridge To tie the noose To hang from rope Hypocrisy! A far cry. The way to the wind is the chalice. There it was, the ocean, And still sparked untruth from foraged windspoke There were 5 of us there And then four And then 5 once more And now 9 we have gathered. More coffee. I'm gonna fucking kill myself. Finally. More coffee? Might as well be awake for this. Another unremarkable opera From the democrat Waiting conversavive Republican Oh, no Bananas are always in season Oh, right; There's always a time Where Mango fruit does indeed fall In full bloom In fall, doom and gloom Assumingly Tune in now, It's on every TV In the meridian It's on every channel In the Bermuda Triangle It's on every Christmas tree At the top each year— So, A star, Or an angel! A star, Or an angel. Preach Choir, And let us all revel In the absolute sweetness Of Drew Barrymore. Aw-men. Awwww man. Awwwwwwwwwwwewee And I'm in awe of it all Isn't it awful, how I could have bought a CBS sponsored waffle iron From Walmart But instead invested in ending this depression Single-handedly with home remedies Of medication And botanicals From the garden of Eden forgotten, Perhaps only as steady inward, or in reverse As I had thought to run or shuffle A Madonna (That's roughly 7 miles) There were ten of us there, Then nine, Then none at all, Now ten again, Before only 5 and then 4 And then 3, Two of them none, and nine become one Against another And again, the atom has split Lightning has stuck God has come The song is sung, I'm still strung up on the rafters, Or what have you What a beautiful and pitiful Jack o'lantern What a disaster, after all— There was no end. Whatsoever! Ring the division bell, Come around now, Download the abounding Clocks set forward And moving in circular motion Clouded judgement, now, Hounding is the crown of a thought Though heavy is the gold in which has made the kingdom, There was love in words And food for throught And foreign tongue, Born outright fury, Fury Fury Hands down, master, Does not that ask I Of what you now now comes next Farewell bid you , I In the where-well I parted, Never once a king, but a god And never once a man, But a time Willing and ready for attack, goes the king Waiting and running full force into front lines Sure to be killed in battle, But killed in honor Of those come before And now waiting to be born, also So take it next to sacrament, On uour alter With your sacred prayers and scented candles What we are and the time we came, What as, The tails of asunder, The other world of wonder l l l Come chorus, Come choir, Come individual countrymen Come focus this attention deficit, This intrinsic thought form, Has indoctorined your subculture. Sim…sim…sim— why are they all sims? I don't know: This one's vaping essential oils. How do you know? I know the smell of a lavender and eucaputus oil blend. What does that mean? I must be at a spa somewhere. At a spa?! Sleeping to death? Could a been a slip and fall… They're very relaxing. …Equinox. What. Equinox fitness. I'm at.. Equinox fitness. You died at the equinox fitness? In the— steamroom. Are you sure it's not the sauna? Heavy on the eucalyptus oil. Then again, here I was Infinite and insecure, Unsure of anything but the establishment so far and just however everything you were Was nothing for gain and everything I was, Was just to be there. And again, easy for the mobs And ready for the torches and ready for the torture And ready for the rapture On hard diets and tied to our l forests. Forfitture. Misaligned and malnourished, Tied to our desks and wondering Unsolved problems and foreign language dialects, Social repressions and expressions of forgiveness, though somehow apologetic, Or with any indifference at all With any indifference at all . Something overcomes whatever we were in that moment And here we are, Again, Exactly what became of the thoughts you had for us— The things you gave us a name to You did make us And here in the suffer-he, We all fall, like water over Niagara Or the last rainfall on earth did. (The rains it never came again, And then the ocean turned to mud, And soon to dust, shortly thereafter in your time While in our time, The thing of light, Nothing really at all, But in your way, many lifetimes, and almost too many even to tie to your number, I. The most, you know, That you can hope for, my dear King, is a fair fight And then as it were, nothing at all were fair, In this life or any, But the skin and eyes of the enemy, The wool of the sheep of course, and the color of cotton. Therefore you shall too understand this music. And nothing my dear king begins without another ending, And all the same is nothing and everything Everyone and no one, Here and nowhere at all, And so it has come— And therefore, I too, shall understand these things again. Try to remember your honor, at the resting tip of the diamond, and at the unburdened idea of circumstance, The rush of August, the cinema tongue And cheek, The blood drawn and again the awakening, The fertile flower and the dove, And the greatness of all that was, which was— In my past, as you call now and present, But again also may come, in aptitude to darkness. Farewell, my great, my son and daughter, my king of glory, and farewell to change! Farewell to fall and farewell to spring, farewell to summer And very well gone are the oars of the boat which has sunken, and your oars, your arms, And your tide, my own A breath so shallow almost forgotten, To no wind a sail, And another great misfortune has come, To wonder besides us, What art thou. And then, what are I? If none. If none, I call, and If none, I shatter. If none, I fall, And if none, I shatter If none, I call And if none, I matter. Then. Then and so. Then and so very well All and all And all in all, we all were Abandoned. No trauma form, The faceless god. No trauma form, the faceless God, Unknowing of what the world's rules are, And of course, then coming Unknown at all to another, and yet To humankind, all knowing of all things And being embodied as one, Then another, and some all The faceless God, as we all are, The faceless God, whom we all mock And The Faceless God, free from the burden of trauma, In wanting and unknown, The truth in all things, Taking all forms and all bodies, As the time comes upon us, To walk towards the light and To free ourselves from all time In all ways. Steady, shook, and window watching She did not wave To die today. To die today. To die to day. Is to die at all, not once, but all times Forever. It'll come harder the next time I promise. At my wits, as the man who had sworn my death now some see fit to wear a crown, A crown such as I had earned, by death and by will But he, by birth and by blood and wrong done. Woe is this! Hellicopter, Hellicopter Spin me round right round to where you hand And as I gallantly had planned to cross, I still hadn't lay last I her embarques all for free and care of down down, now I see something like home, over water The water had music, And the waves had tongues, The smell of gas I cherished and did breathe deepl, as sudden to come, I was as far as I had ever been, and as lonely as I always was, but still, mi finally walk on water To lululu buy a song, No price, but with time does come the cost and to live as though I always was, here, before the land was born And the oceans had parted, as something known As just a thought {I_NY.} I don't want it that much, nor do I need it, And stillc here I am, Watching Madame President. Today ought to be the day for the occult, The hymn of the omens And all polished the dolls, waiting the words And worse off, Astonishing The seagulls song had sung The flight has flown The dance was talked about But never coreographed I never even saw the lighthouse; And you're just a face in the crowd Can you see yourself in me? Do you hope to, like I do you? I don't have that disaster. I really don't have that conquest. I doubt you'd the answer The system, the sacrifice, the annex, Get out of my alignment m Decide to assign you Resign your retirements For the full four for the full force The best place to live is La. , but next comes New York, if you're— [America Runs on Dunkin] I don't know where I was going Damn that train. —Actually, it was a boat. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

Tadhg O'Sullivan's latest journey into the cloud attempts to follow the elusive author of The Treasure of The Sierra Madre, B. Traven.

The resignation of the Archbishop of Canterbury has highlighted the horrendous nature of abuse in the church and also the church's difficulties in dealing with these individuals. But is focusing on individuals enough or trying to address these matters through safeguarding and moral injunctions?Those elements are no doubt necessary. But I think also not sufficient. Recent events have reminded me of the extreme naivety around sex that exists in conservative Evangelical circles. And no doubt in other contexts as well.That can conceal deviant behaviour but is also a failure to understanding the nature of gospel, in my view.In these thoughts, I explore how in mystical Christian traditions, as well as those with an interest in inner life and the path to God, the erotic is understood as a key mode of awakening and energy. For if sex is about wanting to have and be had by another, that is but a reflection of the yearning to be one with God, the true promise of the gospel: “oneing” with the divine, as Mother Julian and the author of the Cloud of Unknowing put it.I turn to the insights of Plato, Origen, Dante and William Blake to draw out these themes. And also consider the parables of Jesus and his encounters with various individuals in the gospels as expressions of this deeper yearning, which he seems to have released in them and which might be foster in us, too - with discernment, honesty and wisdom.0:00 My experience of Christian evangelical camps2:50 Sex as a symptom of erotic desire for God6:05 Plato's insights about the body and why that is discarded11:09 Origen on God's kisses14:09 The mystics understanding of “Onening”15:05 Dante's transformation of his desire for Beatrice17:05 Blake on the erotic discovery that all things are holy21:05 The erotic in the gospels and the notion of philia21:40 Jesus's encounters and his parables as desire for God29:26 The abuse crises call for a lost Christianity

This is a talk given by Jogen Sensei at Heart of WIsdom Zen Temple on November 6th. In this talk Jogen Sensei reads a practice spell he wrote and talks with the Sangha about their experience post election results. ★ Support this podcast ★

St. Teresa of Ávila (1515-1582) was a sixteenth-century Spanish nun and one of the most influential mystics in all of Church history, writing two spiritual classics still read today: The Way of Perfection and The Interior Castle. Her autobiography (more accurately, a confession to Spanish Inquisitors) is The Life of St. Teresa of Avila, detailing her spiritual experiences of the love of God.In this episode, Evan Rosa welcomes Carlos Eire (T. Lawrason Riggs Professor of History and Religious Studies at Yale University) for a discussion of how to read St. Teresa of Ávila, exploring the historical, cultural, philosophical, and theological aspects of her life and writing, and offering insights and close readings of several selections from her classic confession-slash-autobiography, known as La Vida, or The Life.About Carlos EireCarlos Eire is T. Lawrason Riggs Professor of History and Religious Studies at Yale University. All of his books are banned in Cuba, where he has been proclaimed an enemy of the state. He was awarded the 2024 Harwood F. Byrnes/Richard B. Sewall Teaching Prize by Yale College, received his PhD from Yale in 1979. He specializes in the social, intellectual, religious, and cultural history of late medieval and early modern Europe, with a focus on both the Protestant and Catholic Reformations; the history of popular piety; the history of the supernatural, and the history of death. Before joining the Yale faculty in 1996, he taught at St. John's University in Minnesota and the University of Virginia, and was a member of the Institute for Advanced Study in Princeton. He is the author of War Against the Idols (1986); From Madrid to Purgatory (1995); A Very Brief History of Eternity (2010); Reformations: The Early Modern World (2016); The Life of Saint Teresa of Ávila: A Biography (2019); and They Flew: A History of the Impossible (2023). He is also co-author of Jews, Christians, Muslims: An Introduction to Monotheistic Religions (1997); and ventured into the twentieth century and the Cuban Revolution in the memoir Waiting for Snow in Havana (2003), which won the National Book Award in Nonfiction in the United States and has been translated into more than a dozen languages. His second memoir, Learning to Die in Miami (2010), explores the exile experience. A past president of the Society for Reformation Research, he is currently researching various topics in the history of the supernatural. His book Reformations won the R.R. Hawkins Prize for Best Book of the Year from the American Publishers Association, as well as the award for Best Book in the Humanities in 2017. It was also awarded the Jaroslav Pelikan Prize by Yale University Press. The Life of Saint Teresa of Ávila by Carlos Eire (https://press.princeton.edu/books/hardcover/9780691164939/the-life-of-saint-teresa-of-avila )The Book of My Life by Teresa of Ávila (https://www.icspublications.org/products/the-collected-works-of-st-teresa-of-avila-vol-1 or https://www.shambhala.com/teresa-of-avila-1518.html )A long confession to the Inquisition which had placed her under investigation and read by those who were curious and believed her mysticism might be a fraudThe Spanish Inquisition in the 16th CenturyAutobiography v. Auto-hagiographyThe chief virtue of sainthood was humilityMedieval mysticism in the asceticism of monastic communitiesThe Reformation's rejection of monastic communities and their practices“You can fast as much as you want, and you can punish yourself as much as you want. That's not going to, uh, make God love you any more than he already does. And it's not going to wipe out your sins. Christ has wiped out your sins. So, all of this, uh, Oh, self obsession and posturing, uh, the very concept of holiness is redefined.”Direct experience of the divine in mysticism: purgation (cleansing), feedback from God (illumination), and union with the divine.On Loving God by Bernard of Clairvaux (https://litpress.org/Products/CF013B/On-Loving-God)Surrendering of the self in order to find oneself, and in turn GodInterior Castle by Teresa of Ávila (https://www.icspublications.org/products/st-teresa-of-avila-the-interior-castle-study-edition)Recogimiento - a prayer in which one lets go of their senses; a form a prayer in which you are just in a chat with a friendThe Cloud of Unknowing by Anonymous (https://paracletepress.com/products/the-cloud-of-unknowing )Meaning that is found without words - recollection and recogimientoFrancisco Jiménez de Cisneros, Archbishop of Toledo - translation of Rhineland mysticism into SpanishStaged approach and a development of spirituality“You're doing some transforming of your own, of course, by, you know, being engaged in this, but it's, it's really a gift from God progress and progress. Uh, progress and progress, or, uh, pretty much like an athlete whose skills become better and better and better. Or any artist whose skills improve and improve and improve and improve.Except in this case, there's someone else involved. You're not just working out or rehearsing. It's the other party involved in, in this, uh, phenomenon of prayer.”The Four Waters as an image for the progression of prayerThe irony of Teresa's writing and her nods to the inquisition found within her writingsThe experience of mysticism and God cannot be understood - it is beyond languageRepetition in prayer and meditationEdith Stein was inspired by Teresa of ÁvilaMonastic life was very isolated and was filled with hard workThe doubt of her confessors that her visions of Jesus were realResponding to the devil with crudenessMystical marriage with ChristThe Life of Catherine of Siena by Raymond of Capua ( https://tanbooks.com/products/books/the-life-of-saint-catherine-of-siena-the-classic-on-her-life-and-accomplishments-as-recorded-by-her-spiritual-director/ )Physical visions and intellectual visionsHer visions were beyond her controlTransverberation - a vision of an angel with a spear that she is struck with; pain and bliss simultaneously in the woundingGod as a very clear diamondTeresa of Ávila and the Rhetoric of Femininity by Alison Weber (https://press.princeton.edu/books/paperback/9780691027449/teresa-of-avila-and-the-rhetoric-of-femininity) - Constant self-humbling of TeresaDevotion to heart imagery in mysticism, Catholicism, and Teresa's spiritualityThey Flew: A History of the Impossible by Carlos Eire (https://yalebooks.yale.edu/book/9780300280074/they-flew/)The bodily effects and physical nature of Teresa's mysticismmysticism for the masses and books for the laityMysticism is a double edged sword - this is also what makes Jesus threatening in the gospelsSteven Ozment (Mysticism and Dissent: Religious Ideology and Social Protest in the Sixteenth Century?) https://archive.org/details/mysticismdissent0000ozme/page/n295/mode/2upHuman nature and our potentialGreat detail and charming in her writingProduction NotesThis podcast featured Carlos EireEdited and Produced by Evan RosaHosted by Evan RosaProduction Assistance by Alexa Rollow, Emily Brookfield, Kacie Barrett, & Zoë HalabanA Production of the Yale Center for Faith & Culture at Yale Divinity School https://faith.yale.edu/aboutSupport For the Life of the World podcast by giving to the Yale Center for Faith & Culture: https://faith.yale.edu/give

Tadhg O'Sullivan remembers his initiation into the horrors of nuclear armageddon via the 80s BBC TV program, Threads.

Have you ever felt pressure to immediately make decisions, have answers and form judgements about people and events? While our culture tends to gravitate towards this type of posture in life, the wisdom of the gospel tells us there are many things that can only be understood after a time of suspended judgment and unsettling unknowing. Join us as we explore a path toward this wisdom of unknowing in a world of certainty.

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

In this episode of the Free Radical Podcast, host Swami Padmanabha sits down with Carmen Acevedo Butcher, an award-winning translator, internationally acclaimed speaker, author, educator, and poet, to explore profound topics like the mystery of God, the concept of the cloud of unknowing, and the ever-evolving nature of reality. Together, they discuss the mysteries that lie beyond human understanding and reflect on our role within this ever-changing world. As a translator of ancient spiritual texts, Carmen and Swami discuss unique insights into how to translate life into the language of love, constantly interpreting and reinterpreting our experiences through a more refined understanding of love. Whether you're intrigued by spirituality, the unfolding of the unknown, or how we shape our own realities, we hope you find this conversation inspiring and thought-provoking. Tune in for a deep and engaging discussion on embracing mystery, understanding our place in the universe, and navigating the continuous evolution of life. To learn more about Carmen Acevedo Butcher, please visit her website: https://carmenbutcher.com/ Watch on YouTube: https://youtu.be/Lg3m6vZJ6yw ▶ CONTINUE THE CONVERSATION: Gaudiya Reform Forum on Facebook .~ Swami Padmanabha's Channels ▶ FACEBOOK ▶ YOUTUBE ▶ INSTAGRAM ▶ WEBSITE ▶ PURCHASE RADICAL PERSONALISM: Revival Manifesto for Proactive Devotion in hardcover, paperback, and/or Kindle formats on Amazon ▶ WRITE your REVIEW of RADICAL PERSONALISM ~ Tadatmya Sangha's Channels ▶ WEBSITE ▶ FACEBOOK ▶ INSTAGRAM ▶ YOUTUBE

In this episode of the poetry edition of the Reformed Journal Podcast, Rose Postma interviews Katherine Indermaur about her poem “What Depths I Pass Through Unknowing.” Katherine is the author of I|I (Seneca Review Books), winner of the 2022 Deborah Tall Lyric Essay Book Prize and 2023 Colorado Prize for Poetry, and two chapbooks. She is an editor for Sugar House Review. Her writing has appeared in Black Warrior Review, Ecotone, Frontier Poetry, New Delta Review, Ninth Letter, the Normal School, and elsewhere. She lives in Fort Collins, Colorado with her family.

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

(Harmony in Relationships) - Practicing in a World of the Unknowing: Relationships with Non-Practitioners Participate in this course in-person or online. Details available at this link. https://www.buddhadailywisdom.com/courses-retreats-in-chiang-mai-thai --------- Practicing in a World of the Unknowing: Relationships with Non-Practitioners Practitioners may encounter challenges of how to practice The Path to Enlightenment while surrounded by individuals who are not practicing these Teachings. This talk will focus on sharing Teachings that guide you in how to practice these Teachings when surrounded by family, friends, and associates who are not practicing these Teachings. ---------- HARMONY IN RELATIONSHIPS - MEDITATION PRACTITIONER COURSE (30-HOURS) Teachings & Discussions (Dhamma Talks) - The Eight Fold Path: The Path for All Humans to Enlightenment - Transforming The Three Poisons: Craving, Anger, and Ignorance - Identifying Cravings: Cultivating Non-Craving and Analysis of The Mind - Cultivating Healthy Mental States: Loving-kindness, Compassion, Sympathetic Joy, and Equanimity - True Love: Love Without Attachment - Practicing in a World of the Unknowing: Relationships with Non-Practitioners - Sharing The Path to Enlightenment: How to Guide Children Along The Path? - Practicing Non-Attachment: How to Eliminate Attachment to Those Who Are Closest to Us? - Developing & Maintaining Relationships: Choosing Wholesome Friends and a Life Partner - The Path to Enlightenment: Practicing “The Path” in the Workplace - The Art of The Friendly "No": How to Say "No" Without Saying "No" Meditation Practice - Meditation Instruction: Breathing Mindfulness Meditation and Loving-kindness Meditation - Meditation Positions: Seated, Lying, Standing, and Walking Position - Buddhist Chanting in Pali (There are no prerequisites for this course.) Learn more https://www.buddhadailywisdom.com/courses-retreats-in-chiang-mai-thai ​Calendar Events View of Classes, Courses, and Retreats (In-person and Online) https://www.buddhadailywisdom.com/eventscalendar ——-Daily Wisdom - Walking The Path with The BuddhaDedicated to the education of Gotama Buddha's Teachings to attain Enlightenment. https://www.BuddhaDailyWisdom.com (See our website for online learning, courses, and retreats.) Group Learning Program - LIVE Interactive Online Classes, Book, Audiobook, Videos, Podcast and Personal Guidancehttps://bit.ly/GroupLearningProgram |The Words of The Buddha - Pali Canon in English Study Grouphttps://bit.ly/PaliCanonStudyGroup FREE Book - Developing a Life Practice: The Path That Leads to Enlightenmenthttps://www.buddhadailywisdom.com/freebuddhabooks Facebook: https://bit.ly/DailyWisdom-FacebookYouTube: https://bit.ly/DailyWisdom-YoutubePodcast: https://bit.ly/DailyWisdom-Podcast Support our efforts to share The Teachings of Gotama Buddha with you and worldwide for all people using this link.https://www.buddhadailywisdom.com/supportbuddha

(Gaia House)

Ministry and Widow Fund: https://www.gofundme.com/f/qjyaj-help-tuc-... Website: The Unexpected Cosmology Link: https://theunexpectedcosmology.com/ Archives page: https://theunexpectedcosmology.com/articles/ Patreon Support: https://www.patreon.com/noeljoshuahadley/m... Contact: noelhadley@yahoo.com Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TheUnexpectedCosm...

ChatGPT has divided opinion on how artificial intelligence might shape our future: Is it a harbinger of our demise? Or a friend, arrived just in time to guide us through our collective unraveling? As we entangle ourselves with this technology, are there ways we can use it to transform our intelligence, rather than simply replicating it? In this week's essay, writer and adaptive leadership trainer Dana Karout pokes fun at the ways ChatGPT mirrors our own limited ways of thinking. Drawing on her work helping communities navigate conflict and complexity, she pushes us to resist regurgitating what we already know in situations that demand new ways of being. As we try to address the existential challenges mounting around the world—ecological, social, spiritual—could ChatGPT's empty spiels help us let go of our certainties? What true creativity, what real responses to our moment of crisis, might emerge from our unknowing? Read the essay. Illustration by Vartika Sharma. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Help Me Pick the Best Podcast Conversation of 2024!The winner of the second quarter was Pete Greig!The first quarter winner was Mattie Jackson-Smith!Here are their two episodes back-to back. Take a listen, and you can choose the finalist from the first half of the year. Whichever episode gets the most downloads in the next week will move on to the finals.  At the end of the year, we'll let the two semi-finalist winners battle to become the inaugural Dr. Lee Warren Podcast Award winner! Let's listen to these amazing conversations and then honor our guests for sharing their stories and their wisdom with us.(Remember: when we replay old episodes, the free books have already been given away)Pete Greig has been teaching us to pray for decades.What do you do when God seems far away? How do we learn to hear God? How do we pray when life hurts?These are BIG questions! And Pete's here to help us answer them.Pete's official bio and links:Pete Greig is the Senior Pastor of Emmaus Rd church, and the bewildered founder of 24-7 Prayer, an international, inter-denominational movement of prayer, mission and justice operating in more than 100 countries.Pete's books, which are available in various languages and formats, have won the following awards: + ‘Dirty Glory' - UK Christian Book of the year+ ‘How to Pray' - short-listed for the ECPA Christian Book of the Year® Award, 2021+ ‘How to Hear God' - Best Christian Life Book, 2022, Winner, Resources of the Year, 2023 in the Spiritual Growth category.+ ‘God on Mute' has been described as ‘a Christian classic' by the Archbishop of Canterbury.Pete's free, online resources include The Prayer Course - downloaded more than three million times, The Lectio Course, and Lectio365 - a daily devotional with more than 225,000 regular users.He and his wife Sammy are members of The Order of the Mustard Seed (OMS). They split their time between a barge on the River Wey near Guildford, England, and a cliff top retreat on the Isle of Wight where they host and mentor leaders from around the world. Pete is an Ambassador for the NGO Tearfund, a visiting lecturer for St Mellitus Theological College and one of the founding conveners of the Wildfires festival. Here's is the conversation with Pete Greig. Whoever gets the most downloads in the first week becomes the finalist!(By the way, computer-generated transcripts are terrible at spelling names. There are several versions of Mattie and Pete's names in the transcript for this episode, but the correct spellings are Mattie Jackson-Smith and Pete Greig. AI is NOT going to take over the world, at least until it learns to spell!)Follow me @drleewarren on Instagram to keep up with the tournament as the year progresses!Leave a voicemail with your question or comment!Five Ways You Can Support this show:Pray for us!Subscribe, like, and share it with your friends! (We even have a YouTube channel!)Leave reviews and comments wherever you listen to podcasts!You can become a paid partner of the podcast and get special bonus episodes and lots more content by clicking here. Visit one of our affiliate partners and consider using their products (we use them every day):Improve your gut health, support your immune system, and protect your brain with Pique!Other Helpful Links:Click here to access the Hope Is the First Dose playlist of hopeful, healing songs!Be sure to check out my new book, Hope Is the First Dose!Here's a free 5-day Bible study on YouVersion/BibleApp based on my new book!Sign up for my weekly Self-Brain Surgery Newsletter here!All recent episodes with transcripts are available here! (00:00) - Introduction (00:52) - Choosing the Winner (01:17) - Interview with Pete Gregg (06:57) - Self-Brain Surgery School (07:45) - Emergency Surgery Banter (08:21) - Excitement for Pete Gregg's Interview (14:57) - Pete Gregg's Life and Ministry (28:54) - Unpacking the PRAY Model (30:55) - Finding Peace in Worship (38:38) - Engaging with Scripture and Emotion (51:49) - Training Your Brain for Gratitude (57:57) - Grieving with Hope (59:45) - Waiting in the Unknowing (01:00:00) - Finding Hope in the Midst of Pain

Subscribe, Rate, & Review Future Fossils on YouTube • Spotify • Apple Podcasts✨ About This EpisodeThe world is getting hotter, faster, stranger, and scarier every year. Species disappear each day, life-critical diversity replaced with media, consumer goods, capital, and trash. And yet…what do any of us feel inspired to do about it? Why has humankind thus far failed to wield its religions as an instrument for biospheric action? Reading the above probably generated more distress than motivation. Might Western civilization actually be better off reclaiming what the modern world felt it didn't need — namely, the sacred? What if Christianity has ALWAYS at its core held teachings meant to stir up riotous love — the kind that gets us off our asses striving joyously to serve the living world we are?Endlessly subversive author and Rice University Professor Timothy Morton (Twitter | Substack | Patreon | YouTube | Instagram) thinks so — and their new book Hell: In Search of A Christian Ecology argues eloquently for a weird and wonderful postmodern nondual Christianity in which we give up trying to run the place and realign ourselves with Life. Hell is a rousing and reviving work I underlined extensively, and our discussion traces and retraces Tim's characteristically good-lurid and good-florid, stark-but-dreamy, mystically mundane, paradox-rich writing. We soar into romantic numinosity and dwell in body horrors, throw curtains open to pure light and celebrate the stains we can't erase. Trigger warnings plenty, here — but one of them is that in the high-brow, low-brow oscillations you might find yourself awakened to the nature of your being-as-the-God-shaped-hole-in-everything.I'll let them introduce what is easily one of the most potent episodes this show has ever published:“A wonderful three-dimensional podcast. Like, I can't thank you enough for wanting to go all the way around the mulberry bush and then into the mulberry bush and then outside the mulberry bush, then pulverize the mulberry bush into powder, send it around a particle accelerator, and watch the diffusion cloud chamber patterns as you compose another symphony using fractal geometry. I just love this.”If that's the kind of conversation you enjoy, then buckle up. Tim knows precisely the poetic mind-keys with which we can find The Garden in the flames of Hell itself, and Heaven in the sinful body of the Technocene.Over the next two hours, we round the bases on a Greatest Hits of all my favorite topics, all of which appear in some sublime form in Tim's wonderful new book. An we perform embroidery and exegesis of this anthem to raves and William Blake and AI and facing childhood trauma on the way to saving the biosphere from one of its own most deliciously sinful experiments (namely, civilization), we cover a kaleidoscopic swirl of topics such as:• Making climate action (and America) cool again• Nonduality, convergent evolution, and the sacred as the feeling of biology• When teleology goes bad, then redeems itself through pluralism• Flipped gnosticism and dispensing with master/slave thinking• What deals with the devil teach us about how to wisely wield AI• “The Black Goo” as a science fiction trope and how it relates to…• How to make the best of living in Hell, aka social media• The Peacock Angel Melek Taus and having sympathy for the devil• Failure as comedy, sin as a blessing, thinking as a kind of failure mode• Evolution as a Christic promise of possibility better futures, and yet…• Why we shouldn't use “emergentism” to solve “the meaning crisis”We also pay dues to a totally prodigious list of inspirations.As per our custom, those of you supporting the show have subsidized the extra time it takes for me to organize a thorough bibliography with links to the books, papers, films, TV shows, podcast episodes, and historical figures mentioned therein.Thank you for listening and for your contributions!✨ Support This Work• Become a patron on Substack or Patreon• Buy original paintings and prints or commission new work• Buy the books we discuss from my Bookshop.org reading list• Help me find backing for my next big project Humans On The Loop• Join the conversation on Discord in the Holistic Technology & Wise Innovation and Future Fossils servers• Make one-off donations at @futurefossils on Venmo, $manfredmacx on CashApp, or @michaelgarfield on PayPal• Buy the show's music on Bandcamp — intro “Olympus Mons” from the Martian Arts EP & outro “Sonnet A” from the Double-Edged Sword EP✨ Books & ArticlesHell: In Search of A Christian Ecologyby Timothy MortonHyperobjects: Philosophy and Ecology after The End of The Worldby Timothy MortonSubscendenceby Timothy MortonDarwin's Pharmacy: Sex, Plants, and The Evolution of The Noosphereby Richard DoyleA Beginner's Guide To Constructing The Universeby Michael S. SchneiderThe Origin of Species By Means of Natural Selectionby Charles DarwinLiquid Modernityby Zygmunt BaumanHallucination Is Inevitable: An Innate Limitation of Large Language Modelsby Ziwei Xu, Sanjay Jain, Mohan KankanhalliUnweaving The Rainbow: Science, Delusion, and The Appetite for Wonderby Richard DawkinsSimplification, Innateness, and the Absorption of Meaning from Context: How Novelty Arises from Gradual Network Evolutionby Adi LivnatThe Cloud of Unknowing by AnonymousThe Glass Cage: How Our Computers Are Changing Usby Nicholas CarrPresent Shock: When Everything Happens Nowby Doug RushkoffAt Home In The Universe: The Search for The Laws of Self-Organization and Complexityby Stuart KauffmanComplexity and The Emergence of Physical Propertiesby Miguel FuentesThe Return of the Black Madonna: A Sign of Our Times or How the Black Madonna Is Shaking Us Up for the Twenty-First Centuryby Matthew FoxThe Coming of the Cosmic Christ: The Healing of Mother Earth and the Birth of a Global Renaissanceby Matthew FoxReclaiming Art in the Age of Artifice: A Treatise, Critique, and Call to Actionby J.F. Martel✨ Podcast EpisodesSolPurpose Conversations 2 - Richard Doyle on The Cloud of Unknowing75 - David Krakauer on Thinking Interplanetary with The Santa Fe Institute132 - Erik Davis on Perturbations in the Reality Field174 - Evan Snyder on Sound Design for A Robotic Built Wilderness186 - A Manifesto for Weird Science194 - Simon Conway Morris on Convergent Evolution & Creative Mass Extinctions212 - Manfred Laubichler & Geoffrey West on Life In The Anthropocene & Living Inside The TechnosphereWeird Studies 101 - Our Fear of the Dark: On Tanizaki's 'In Praise of Shadows'✨ Movies & TV ShowsAlienWestworldBlade RunnerHellraiserFriendsCurb Your EnthusiasmThe SimpsonsPrometheusThe ShiningAlien ResurrectionInterstellarThe Wizard of Oz✨ Other PeopleWilliam BlakeCarl Hayden Smith Jeffrey KripalKurt GödelGeorg CantorAlfred North WhiteheadBertrand RussellGerald Manley HopkinsKarl MarxSlavoj ŽižekGregory BatesonGeorg Wilhelm Friedrich HegelPhilip K. DickE.F. SchumacherAnna HollandPhoebe PlummerFrancisco VarelaHumberto MaturanaJacques DerridaJohn MiltonJulian of NorwichDilgo Khyentse RinpocheJón GnarrChögyam Trungpa RinpocheMurray Gell-Mann✨ Objects Of NoteQAnonGoogle GlassThe Sex PistolsCambridge Analytica This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit michaelgarfield.substack.com/subscribe

The sound of a bell that isn't there, inspires Tadhg O'Sullivan's latest journey into the mystic.

Los Angeles-based artist Adrian Cox's paintings evoke worlds outside of our own, worlds he explore through active imagination and trance. In this episode, Adrian unveils his latest project, the hypnotic Ritual of Unknowing, and chats with Devin about their mutually inspired methods of investigating these inner landscapes. Check out Adrian's art at: https://www.adriancoxart.com/ Download the Ritual of Unknowing for free at: https://www.adriancoxart.com/the-ritual-of-unknowing.html Download the Person is Asleep album for free at: https://www.personisasleep.com/ Join the ritual: www.patreon.com/thispodcastisaritual Follow the Wizard on Instagram @personisawake

Aim their laughter like a cannon that booms out over the water.Aim their sorrow like a rainbow that follows a storm.Aim their anger like a lightning bolt that kills a man standing under a tree.Be careful not to stand under trees.People would rather be angry that bored.This is why we pay attention to politics.People would rather be frightened than bored.This is why we watch scary movies.People would rather be sad than bored.This is why we read books that break our hearts.People would rather be laughing than bored.This is why we have comedians and memes and YouTube and TikTok.Why is it so profoundly difficultto simply sit still in silence?Because whenever we are silentfor more than a few minutes,all of our shadows and secrets and sinscome to the surface of our consciousness.Jesus says, “Whenever you pray,go into the closet and shut the door.”1Surely, Jesus knows about all theskeletons we like to hide in our closets.And Jesus wants prayer to be the placewhere we confront those skeletonsand face our fears.If we do not confront the skeletons in our closets,then they will control the whole house.If we do not control our shadows,then they will run the whole show.This is why some saythat all of humanity's problemsstem from our inability to sit quietlyin a room alone. 2– Daniel DeForest London,The Cloud of Unknowing, DistilledAnger, fear, sorrow, and laughter are forms of excitement.Excite people and you will be the center of attention.But the happiest thing to do, if you can do it,is fill people with a sense of wonder.Wonder is a feeling without skeletons or shadows.Wonder is a reaction, not an emotion.Wonder is triggered by realizations that are bigger than our minds can contain.Roy H. WilliamsHOT TIP – Make Yourself Happy. Sign up for Jeffrey's class Aug. 13-14 at WizardAcademy.org. It will give you more confidence, competence, and consideration. Your teeth will be whiter and you'll be a better dancer. – Indy Beagle1 Matthew ch 6, verse 62 Blaise Pascal, (1623 – 1662)“It's what you choose to believe that makes you the person you are.“– Karen Marie MoningNick-Anthony Zamucen has launched four successful franchises: a pizza chain, a home care business, a crime scene cleaner, and a water and fire damage repair company. According to Nick-Anthony, there is a proven formula for running a successful franchise, whether you buy into someone else's concept or decide to start a franchise of your own. What should you look for in a franchise? What do you need to launch one? And what should you absolutely avoid? Make some popcorn because the show is about to start as Nick Anthony Zamucen tells all to our own roving reporter Rotbart at MondayMorningRadio.com

First Half, full 2 hr+ episode here ...on LARPing with artists Maggie Dunlap and Ben Werther and his recent show When You Can No Longer Speak, Sing Me A Song documenting mock high stakes environments of Military Simulation (MilSim) culture. Other topics: identity construction and the fraying of the American cultural fabric, the anonymous 14th century Christian mystical text The Cloud Of Unknowing, total sculpture, non pedantic art, soft black stars, the end of intellectuals and words, readymades, LARPing as a luxury commodity item, Murderbilia, the BTK killer, fandoms forming around depravity, True Crime as female MilSim, Kantian ethics, desire for martyrdom, Davey Crockett, Neo Suprematism, why Country Music is reaching peak popularity, hair metal, The South and the east coast as The Big Other, Mike Kelley's stuffed animals from a the perspective of a child, Sam Hyde's 'active shooter' phenomenon, James Bridle, Borges, Joseph Beuys.

Catherine speaks to Faye Twinn about her late autistic discovery. Faye discovered she was autistic in her late 30's and this discovery changed her entire outlook on life itself. She spent her teens in Devon and it was there within her secondary school that she was identified as ‘dyslexic'. Struggling to fit in, she quickly self identified as arty and found that within the creative subjects she could strive. She went on to study Fine Art at Falmouth University. Later retaking her English and Maths GCSE's, gaining a PGCE in arts education and completing a Masters in costume at Central Saint Martins, London. She feels that she scrabbled through her late teens and 20's and worked in various settings to get by. Eventually settling into lecturing art and fashion. She spent 15 years as a Lecturer before resigning during the pandemic. These days Faye can be found working as a studio potter in Essex. She is married, has a 8 year old son and 2 step children in their 20's. The work that she produces now, came from needing to step back and an understanding that some of us need to live slower for our well-being. She creates eco conscious functional pottery and strives to provide simple pieces that can be used to create little moments of loveliness. Her pottery is sold across a number of independent lifestyle stores through out the UK and is also available from her website  Follow Faye on Instagram ⁠⁠⁠3 ways you can support the podcast and the work we do... Become a ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠member⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠, champion or partner and join our growing community. Buy us a ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠coffee.⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Rate & review⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ the show Thank you to our ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Community Partners ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠who are supporting the work that we are doing. ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠A Tidy Mind⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠The Growth Pod⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ A BIG shoutout to our ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Community Champions ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠who are championing the work we do: Kay Mathiesen The Late Discovered Club is hosted by Catherine Asta and edited by Caty Ava - visit our ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠website⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Contact ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Catherine Asta⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Music by⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Allora⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Follow us on Instagram: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Catherine Asta ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠The Late Discovered Club⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Join our next Group Circle⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠The Asta Community of Professionals⁠

Today the Hanna's will be reviewing newly released movie "Abigail" which was directed by Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett of Scream and V/H/S fame. The film follows six criminals who kidnap a ballet loving little girl and hold her for ransom. Unknowing to them Abigail is a blood sucking vampire trapped with her next meal. Tune in to hear what we think of this charming new release. SPOILERS Follow on Instagram and TikTok: @horrorhourwiththehannas Follow on Twitter: @horrorhourhanna Music by Aries Beats - ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DPpnxLYrzVA⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠

Opening Monologues. “There is either a red wave in November or America is doomed,” says Elon Musk. And he would be exactly right. All hands on deck for Trump, now the official presumptive GOP nominee. Laughter for Phony Pence, who once again fails to live up to his word. Meanwhile, contemplating the biggest enemy of the American People. Is it some other country somewhere, or could it actually be right here at home? Our own corrupt American Elite? A relevant framework for the current Tik Tok debate scam. Lincoln's Lyceum Address. RINO Ken Buck leaves Congress in a strange blaze of disgrace. Finally draining the Swamp by personally leaving the Swamp. Adieu. The Cloud of Unknowing. Colorado Snow. With Great Listener Calls. Matt Dunn of Backbone Radio guest-hosting the Randy Corporon Show.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Join hosts Dominic Lawton & Ken B Wild as they don the hats and the buckled shoes once more for St. Patrick's Day! It's the 1994 classic - LEPRECHAUN 2! The guys discuss Warwick Davis, Clint "Hollywood" Howard and Morty the Unknowing! Meanwhile, Dom talks about dwarves peeing in a urinal whilst Ken tells us why disabled people are sexy! The film-pitch this week sees billionaire playboy Lubden Green help a waitress explore her sexuality through BDSM. It's FIFTY SHADES OF GREENS! Cast includes Warwick Davis, Jennifer Aniston and Carl Weathers as Police Chief Carl Weathers! Have you got a question, want to suggest a film to review or would you like to send us your own film pitch that we will read out on the podcast? Email us! Visit our website for more episodes & written reviews : WWW.BADMOVIECULT.COM Follow us on TWITTER Follow us on INSTAGRAM Join us on FACEBOOK Dominic Lawton can be found on TWITTER Ken B Wild can be found on TWITTER Got a spare minute? Leave us a rating or review on iTunes!

. The post CP8 – Understanding God Through Unknowing – Reflections from Contemplative Provocations by Fr. Donald Haggerty – Discerning Hearts Catholic Podcasts appeared first on Discerning Hearts Catholic Podcasts.

It is no secret that the Millennial and Gen Z cohort are losing their religion and seeking new ways to feel wonder and awe. But what is it about traditional religion that repels some? In a word, it may be certitude. What would it look like to honor all that our ancestors knew and realized, while being more open than ever to the Mystery and Unknowing of human life? The upcoming generations seem to be asking these questions intuitively, embodying new forms of wisdom on our planet. Listen to Little Moon's moving anthem to an emergent spirituality: https://open.spotify.com/track/37N7VOw3uyycrCbiB8cDIa?si=d068dfcd57434c25 If you feel fed by the show, please support Mindfulness+ by sharing with a friend, leaving a review or making a tax-deductible donation to Lower Lights School of Wisdom. We're grateful for your support! Want more guidance from Thomas? Come to our monthly online practitioners retreat. Have a practice question for Thomas? Leave a voicemail Voicemail. We would love to hear from you.  Also, check out Thomas's new book here