Podcasts about Voodoo Child

Kyle joined me to discuss the blues influence in music and to hear SRV version of Voodoo Child for the first time. Alp

Ep 312 - Bash at the Beach 1998 “Like Skinny Dippin' in the Shark Tank/Somebody's Goin Down” The Mailman always delivers 0:30 - Welcome 19:44 - BatB Opening 21:19 - Saturn vs Raven (w/Riggs and Lodi) in a Raven's Rules match 26:33 - Kidman (w/ Lodi) vs Juventud Guerrera 30:44 - Stevie Ray vs Chavo Guerrero Jr 33:31 - Chavo Guerrero Jr vs Eddie Guerrero in a Hair vs Hair match 38:45 - Disco Inferno (w/ Alex Wright) vs Konnan (w/ Kevin Nash and Lex Luger) 41:23 - The Giant vs Kevin Greene 48:04 - Chris Jericho vs Rey Mysterio Jr for the WCW Cruiserweight Championship in a No DQ match 54:06 - Bret “The Hitman” Hart vs Booker T for the WCW World Television Championship 58:45 - Curt Hennig vs Bill Goldberg for the WCW World Heavyweight Championship 1:02:59 - Hollywood Hogan and Dennis Rodman (w/the Disciple) vs Diamond Dallas Page and Karl Malone 1:12:44 - Overall Thoughts 1:17:49 - Smarking It Up 1:29:38 - Making Their Way to the Ring 1:30:38 - Goodbyes Music from this week's show is “Heroin Chaser” by Joseph Saba/Stewart Winter and “Voodoo Child” by Jimi Hendrix Experience Rate and review us on iTunes, Spotify, YouTube, or wherever you find your podcasts Email – WrestlingHistoryX@gmail.com X – WrestlingHistoX

In this episode of the Drink Beer and Bullshit Podcast, the hosts engage in light-hearted banter about the weather, their favorite drinks, and shoutouts to listeners and local businesses. They discuss the podcast's availability on various platforms and share personal stories, including memorable concert experiences and community interactions. The episode also highlights the fun and casual nature of their discussions, emphasizing that they are not experts but rather friends enjoying a good time together. In this segment, the conversation flows from discussing Kendrick Lamar's music and its viral impact to a nostalgic look at diss tracks, particularly Tupac's iconic 'Hit 'Em Up.' The discussion then transitions into the topic of voodoo, exploring its origins, misconceptions, and personal anecdotes related to voodoo artifacts. The hosts share humorous and insightful stories, creating a lively and engaging atmosphere. In this conversation, the hosts delve into the fascinating and often misunderstood world of Voodoo, exploring its origins, practices, and the myths surrounding it. They discuss the story of Claver Narcisse, a man who was declared dead but later returned to life, shedding light on the concept of Voodoo zombies and the cultural significance of these beliefs. The conversation also touches on the intersection of science and folklore, particularly in relation to the effects of certain substances that may contribute to the phenomenon of being 'zombified.' In this episode, the hosts delve into the themes of zombies and voodoo, discussing their cultural significance and the connections between voodoo practices and control over individuals. They explore the concept of Santa Muerte and its ties to voodoo, as well as the darker aspects of Vodou practices. The conversation wraps up with personal experiences and reflections on voodoo, emphasizing its reality as a religion and its presence in places like New Orleans.Drink Beer N Bulls#!t Podcast consists of 5 individuals. Swih-Medie-Rigo-Art-Johnny. The show will center around the discussion of various topics from the super natural like ghosts and hauntings to elusive mythical creatures including the likes of Bigfoot, Nessy, Champ, & The Jersey Devil ect. The show will cover anything and everything in-between as well, like Sports, Movies, Music & current events. All this while having some drinks to lighten the mood. We hope to bring an entertaining show to listeners and share some of our own personal stories and perspective for all to hear. We are not experts or professionals, we just want to Drink Beer N Bulls#!t. Click the link for all our social media pages and streaming platforms for our Drink Beer N Bulls#!t Podcast.https://linktr.ee/drinkbeernbspodcastwww.drinkbeernbullshitpodcast.com

If you don't know John McDermott, he's been the guardian of Jimi Hendrix's musical legacy for nearly 30 years. He's the kind of guy with stories you can't Google, insights you can't fake, and a lot of passion for preserving one of rock's greatest icons. We talked about everything from Hendrix's unreleased gems to their upcoming Experience Hendrix tour coming to the Fox Theatre on March 22nd. The Magic of the Fox Theatre First, McDermott talked about his upcoming concert at the Fox Theatre. John said it's one of the best places to perform. "We've played the Fox five times, and the crowd's energy is just incredible, it's not like playing a generic performing arts center where it's just another stop on a subscription series. These fans are passionate. They show up because they love the music." A Lifelong Journey with Jimi Now, how exactly does one become the catalog director for Jimi Hendrix? I asked John, and he dove right in. It started in 1992 when he co-wrote a book called Hendrix: Setting the Record Straight with Eddie Kramer. A year later, John helped produce a tribute album, Stone Free, which raised scholarship funds in Jimi's name through the United Negro College Fund. In the mid-1990s, John helped the Hendrix family win a long legal battle to regain control of Jimi's music. "When they finally won the rights, they asked me to manage the catalog," he explained. "Our first release was in 1997, and I've been doing it ever since." From curating historic releases to creating documentaries, John's helped make sure Hendrix's music remains timeless. How Many Hendrix Songs Are Still Unreleased? Every Hendrix fan has wondered: Is there anything left in the archives? According to John, the answer is, "Yes, but not as much." Over the years, his team has dug deep to release unreleased tracks, documentaries, and live sessions. "We're definitely closer to the end of the archive than we were 20 or 25 years ago," he admitted, "but every now and then, something new surprises us." Case in point? A few years ago, they uncovered a never-before-heard 1967 recording of Hendrix at the Hollywood Bowl. Want to know how early this was? It happened before Are You Experienced? It even dropped in the U.S. That's serious history right there. Why Hendrix Still Resonates When I asked about Hendrix's lasting legacy, John said, "Every generation rediscovers him." From Prince to Stevie Ray Vaughan to John Mayer, Hendrix's influence is woven into the DNA of music. "Jimi's music is timeless," John said. People hear it in movies, commercials, or even on the radio and are driven to find out more. His music speaks for itself—you don't have to hard-sell it." Even in pop culture, Hendrix's impact is everywhere. Quick example? Hulk Hogan famously strutted into the ring to "Voodoo Child." And John lit up when I threw that out there. "Yeah, that's a great example! And people like Paul McCartney still tell stories about their friendship with Jimi on stage. It's amazing how his influence just keeps going." The Experience Hendrix Tour Here's the part you need to know about—the Experience Hendrix tour. If you're even remotely into guitar legends, this is the show for you. John explained why it's such a hit. "It's not just a loose jam session," he said. "It's collaborative. You'll hear the Hendrix songs you know and love, but you'll also discover new artists who bring their own energy to the legacy." The lineup is stacked—think Zakk Wylde, Eric Johnson, and Marcus King, just to name a few. "These artists come because Jimi inspired them in different ways," John added. "It's a common denominator for audiences. People might come in because they're fans of one artist, but by the end of the night, they leave blown away by others." Oh, and if you happen to be at the Fox Theatre on March 22nd? Keep an eye out for surprise appearances. John flat-out said they love throwing unexpected guests into the mix. Hendrix Memorabilia: What's Left? John said Jimi was more of an "off-the-rack" kind of guy when it came to guitars. "He usually had a black Strat, a white Strat, and a Flying V," he shared. "Sometimes a Gibson Les Paul Jr. for blues numbers." Many of Jimi's personal items and stage gear now reside in museums, including the Museum of Pop Culture (MoPOP) in Seattle and the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. Seeing them up close makes Hendrix feel real. "His dad, Al Hendrix, wanted these items shared with fans," John said. "It's incredible to see someone connect with a piece of Jimi's history in person." What's Next For The Hendrix Estate? John said the Electric Lady Studios project has been a big focus, "If we find more material that deepens fans' appreciation of Jimi, we'll explore ways to share it." If you're in Detroit on March 22nd, do yourself a favor and Experience Hendrix (literally) at the Fox Theatre. Trust me, this tour isn't just a concert—it's a celebration of a legend. See you there!

Ep 299 – WCW Monday Night Nitro 04/20/1998 The reign of Goldberg begins! 0:29 - Welcome 22:57 - Nitro Opening 28:16 - Konnan (w/ Vincent) vs Chris Adams 30:46 - Wayne Bloom vs The Barbarian (w/ Jimmy Hart) 33:10 - Chris Jericho vs Juventud Guerrera for the WCW Cruiserweight Championship 36:07 - Raven vs Goldberg for the WCW United States Heavyweight Championship in a Raven's Rules match 40:58 – La Parka vs Ultimo Dragon 43:51 - Chris Benoit vs Curt Hennig (w/ Rick Rude) 47:58 - Hammer vs Saturn 51:29 - Public Enemy (Rocco Rock/Johnny Grunge) vs Buff Bagwell and Scott Steiner 55:11 - Psychosis vs Booker T for the WCW World Television Championship 57:28 - Brian Adams (w/ Vincent) vs Lex Luger 1:03:22 - Hollywood Hogan (w/ The Disciple) vs Macho Man Randy Savage for the WCW World Heavyweight Championship in a NO DQ match 1:09:35 - Overall Thoughts 1:13:12 - Smarking It Up 1:24:10 - Making Their Way to the Ring 1:25:35 - Goodbyes Music from this week's show is “Fire Storm” and “Voodoo Child” by Jimi Hendrix Experience Rate and review us on iTunes, Spotify, YouTube, or wherever you find your podcasts Email – WrestlingHistoryX@gmail.com X – WrestlingHistoX

Ep 295 - Uncensored 1998 “Rules Are For Fools” They wouldn't give us a disappointing main event would they? 0:28 - Welcome 23:53 - Uncensored Opening 25:07 - Eddie Guerrero (w/ Chavo Guerrero Jr) vs Booker T for the WCW World Television Championship 29:15 - Konnan vs Juventud Guerrera 34:39 - Dean Malenko vs Chris Jericho for the WCW Cruiserweight Championship 42:44 - Scott Steiner vs Lex Luger 46:38 - Raven vs “The Crippler” Chris Benoit vs Diamond Dallas Page for the WCW United States Heavyweight Championship in a Falls Count Anywhere match 53:30 - Kevin Nash vs the Giant 59:49 - Curt Hennig (w/ Rick Rude) vs Bret “Hitman” Hart 1:04:58 - Scott Hall (w/ Dusty Rhodes) vs Sting for the WCW World Heavyweight Championship 1:11:18 - Hollywood Hogan vs Macho Man Randy Savage (w/ Miss Elizabeth) in a Cage match 1:16:59 - Overall Thoughts 1:20:15 - Smarking It Up 1:33:10 - Making Their Way to the Ring 1:37:45 - Goodbyes Music from this week's show is the music from WCW Mayhem video game during the Uncensored arena and “Voodoo Child” by Jimi Hendrix Experience Rate and review us on iTunes, Spotify, YouTube, or wherever you find your podcasts Email – WrestlingHistoryX@gmail.com X – WrestlingHistoX

In this episode I have a sit down with the artist known as VoodooChild. We sit speak about how he started making music, the creation of Lockehearts, meeting Vythe & Dolor, his opinion on religion, the occult, his music, performing with Dirtybutt and so much more. If you like interview-based podcast with guest that range from Content creators, underground artists, Inventors, Game developers, and everything in between please follow me on my socials and wherever you listen to podcast to be notified for when I drop the next interview. Welcome to the most Obscure Podcast in the world. Voodoochild socials: Stream VOODOOCHILD music | Listen to songs, albums, playlists for free on SoundCloudVoodoo (@fuckvoodoochild) • Instagram photos and videos Obscure Image: ⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Obscure Image (@obscureimagepodcast) • Instagram photos and videos⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Obscureimages | Twitter, Instagram, TikTok | Linktree⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Obscure Image Podcast - YouTube⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Make Love (@mcmakelove) • Instagram photos and videos⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Wanna support the podcast? Click the link

Send us a textn this captivating episode of Jams 'N' Cocktails, the crew comes together to honor the extraordinary life and enduring legacy of one of rock's most iconic figures, Jimi Hendrix. Host Brad Brock, joined by Elly, Jordyn, and Derek, delve into the monumental impact Hendrix had on the world of music and explore the fascinating, albeit tragic, details of his untimely death at the age of 27. They reminisce about his unparalleled talent, discuss the influence of his innovative guitar techniques, and speculate on the many mysteries that surround his passing.The crew also celebrates the vibrant spirit of Hendrix with a special cocktail of the week, the “Purple Haze,” and shares personal stories of their recent escapades, including a lively night out at a silent disco. This episode is a heartfelt tribute to a legend who transformed rock music forever and continues to inspire generations of musicians and fans.LinksJNC Officialhttps://www.jnclive.tvSupport us on Patreonhttps://www.patreon.com/jncpodcastSupport the show

In this captivating episode of Jams 'N' Cocktails, the crew comes together to honor the extraordinary life and enduring legacy of one of rock's most iconic figures, Jimi Hendrix. Host Brad Brock, joined by Elly, Jordyn, and Derek, delve into the monumental impact Hendrix had on the world of music and explore the fascinating, albeit tragic, details of his untimely death at the age of 27. They reminisce about his unparalleled talent, discuss the influence of his innovative guitar techniques, and speculate on the many mysteries that surround his passing. The crew also celebrates the vibrant spirit of Hendrix with a special cocktail of the week, the “Purple Haze,” and shares personal stories of their recent escapades, including a lively night out at a silent disco. This episode is a heartfelt tribute to a legend who transformed rock music forever and continues to inspire generations of musicians and fans.LinksJNC Officialhttps://www.jnclive.tvSupport us on Patreonhttps://www.patreon.com/jncpodcast

Musician Sev7en Taylor talks about his new EP "Voodoo Child."

NEW FOR SEPTEMBER 15, 2024 Think a thought of music . . . Cognitive Dissonance - The Best Radio You Have Never Heard Vol. 492 1. Goodnight Saigon - Billy Joel 2. Release / Won't Back Down (live) - Pearl Jam 3. Hey Joe (live) - Patti Smith 4. Physical (Your So) - Nine Inch Nails 5. Boogies (Hamburger Hell) - Todd Rundgren 6. Once Upon A Dream - Jon Anderson w/ The Band Geeks 7. Cosmik Debris (live) - Frank Zappa 8. The Staircase - Maxx McGathey 9. Voodoo Child (live) - Eric Clapton and Steve Winwood 
10. Green Onions (live) - Buddy Guy and Junior Wells 11. Sahara - Devon Allman 12. Are You Going With Me (live) - Pat Metheny Group 13. Downtown (live) - Bill Bruford's Earthworks 14. Kissing the Ring of Potus - The The 15. Helplessly Hoping (live) - Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young 16. Have You Ever Seen The Rain (live) - R.E.M. The Best Radio You Have Never Heard. Deep musical thoughts since 2004. Accept No Substitute Click to leave comments on the Facebook page.

MarceyLynn, Once Again: Sev7en Taylor (Voodoo Child) by WNHH Community Radio

L. Ron Hubbard's great-grandson explains the development of his remarkable writing and performing talents, from reading a Stephen King novel banned by his Fundamentalist Christian mother in the crawl space to becoming a champion slam poet. Links: "the girl across the hallway" are there vegetarian spiders? Well, not entirely, but the answer is surprising enough to share. Jon's fiction books! Voodoo Child (slight return) Halcyon Daze

insert riff here And i Chop it down with the edge of my hand. Tell a friend, Tell A wrestling Fan about us. Follow the Show on Twitter @Goforthepinshow and on Instagram @Goforthepin_show Follow King V @_Watchmythrone on Twitter and KingV_TheRuler on Instagram Follow Mike at @DJMikeEQ on twitter and Mike_EQ on Instagram Follow DJ Knuckles at @DJ_Knuckles on Instagram and @JPSMusic15 on Twitter. Subscribe to our Youtube Channel Please, if you ever feel to a point where you can no longer, please look into your options if you so choose. Help is available. You can call the 24/7 crisis line at 1-800-273-8255 or you can dial 988.There is also a website: https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/

First rule of inter dimensional time traveling… DON'T. I smelled like an old, wet bandaid. My heart wasn't in it anymore—looking in the mirror for progress after nearly a month of extreme training and dieting, i could feel the difference, but not see it. Perhaps it was the result of sleeping under the white devil, or just the lack of good coffee since departing from Mexico—still, something was off about my energy, in the way that I was moving about my day to day—or, I should note, the way that I was barely moving—I seemed to be under a spell of mediocrity and apathetic listlessness, emotions and passions welling up in an uncontrollable, irritating and chaotic fury; i was lost from love. I hugged a tree in the entryway to the parking lot if the gym; it almost seemed to hug me back—and, in the broad daylight, I fought the will to lay my head down in relief, as if she had offered me a shoulder to cry all the tears that I needed; behold, however, the tears would come indeed, as I barely tried at the pectoral machine or whatever it was. After selecting Daft Punk's Discovery Album as the track for my first circuit, One Last Time bellowing into my sweaty earbuds as tears streamed down by face—without having to address it in too long, I realized I missed my son; not that it mattered. My ex husband was the evil everything that had ruined me—or rather, I was the evil thing that ruined myself by loving him. At least I was no longer nearly 400 pounds—not that it mattered. The leftovers made it impossible for me to go about my life acting as if nothing had happened; I couldn't wear almost anything without bulging and unsightly rolls. Being dark skinned might not have been so bad, as long as I could be perfect—maybe that's why every rapper bragged about fixing up girls in exchange for sex; it was too bad I wasn't attracted to black men enough to let that happened. Maybe I was supposed to have taken the bait of my brother and law while living in his home in Las Vegas—I could have had the all access pass to driving one of his three Mercedes, and maybe even lucky enough to have had my skin reduction surgery sponsored by the drug money he boastfully prided himself on, being a “business owner”. But no, I had let my own pride neglect his underhanded proposition; He couldn't fuck be, but even almost a year later, at least had the benefit of making me feel stupid for not taking advantage, obsessing over my body to a point that anyone would clearly consider unhealthy. I occasionally would look up at the screens in front of whatever machine I was working at, wondering “What the fuck am I watching?” As always, I knew if it was FX, it was assuredly something captivating—I didn't need more than its logo to be reminded of my once-obsession with Kurt Sutter's writing, demolishing Sons of Anarchy episode by episode once weekly for years, and repeatedly bing watching The Sheild until I could recite each episode word for word, and understand the happenings of any given season In Portuguese. Fuck this. For some reason, it was Rihanna's hit Only girl In the world blasting over the loud speakers after the conclusion of the Daft Punk album—that made me quit and call it a day; I had only been on the floor an hour and a half, which anyone would call a good workout, but to me it felt like giving up—like I was weak; but something about Rihanna's voice had allowed the picture of her perfect, skinny silhouette from the cover of one of her albums, or maybe a single (I didn't know, as I had never really considered myself a fan of hers, even though I could admire her vocals, and did recall with vivid conclusion cycling at least two of her hits on repeat in my high school days) but either way, I had probably always harnessed a deep disgruntlement and bitterness towards her, not simply for being about the complexion my mother constantly told me she wished I could have been, or “should” have been, but also for being so wonderously skinny—another thing my mother wished I should and could have been and always hated me for not being—though, it was true that the last time we had spoken, she commented on how perfect my figure was becoming, to which I replied cockily “I know.” But I hated everything about y figure now, and hadn't even the clothes I needed to help accentuate it; I possessed only a low-impact sports bra, which would have been a cute tube top on anyone with a body worth looking at—and a Victoria's Secret zip-up sports bra, which was falling apart and after being washed and worn to bits, was now not only too big, but also lacked almost any support at all. I felt fit, and probably was, under all the wretched skin and sagging I was sure came first handed my from Satan himself, as I was sure God was punishing me by assigning me to such an unforgivably unlovable vessel—not to say I wasn't fuckable, as I always knew I could l grab a decent enough dick and take it for a spin—but I had never seen the dopey-eyed, puppy like gaze of a man in love with a beautiful woman on me, ever, besides once—on the heavy (read: obese) light-skinned black man who I befriended at my first EDC, who clung to me for dear life and treated me like I was the light of the worlds for the duration of our friendship—-SUPACREE's first fan, a true hype man, and valuable asset during my free from Alaska; however, I never did feel the same thing for him as he did for me and was thoroughly dismissive, eventually growing apart entirely—however, if a decent looking Caucasian man had ever looked at me or treated me the same, i would know I had somehow reached my goal. I just wasn't attracted to black men—something I had been made, of course by black men, to feel ashamed of—certainly in the same way that most Caucasian men weren't really “into black girls”; probably the same thing that made all little white girls appear as demonic vampires, aside from the actual privelege and soul-sucking unawareness of any of the world's actual problems. It was becoming clearer and clearer with each passing day at Equinox that I was again the Guinea pig central to some kind of secret social experiment, or worse, psychological—which meant of course I had become allures into a trap and had always been the perfect prey—still a dumb, fat, lazy and now hood-bound nigger with a taste for luxury and the wellness that had been stripped from the lower realms at all—desperate for the life I had designed for myself on my own but still trapped in some kind of hex or curse—some strange and bodiless demon always find its way next to, around or near me—anyone I liked, loved, or became close to had vanished, and I was left alone to suffer in the loveless and dark underworld without any solid way to escape. I had been fed with garbage for weeks —almost no fruits and vegetables at all, and had been without water for quite some time, my clothes were embarrassingly worn and dirty, wreaking of mildew—and now it was even worse—demons were always quick to overcome the body of any female I wished I could be— my entire life has been an nightmare, the glimpses and flashes of regression flashing through my mind— my abusive mother, my abusive husband— I was an altogether shit person, doomed to again succumb to slavery; meanwhile, the pretty and perfect bodies around me seemed not to worry, work, or care at all—I was taunted with everything I wanted and everything I loved—and it had taken me all the time I had lived to realized that I had never been loved at all. I guess I'm not ‘pure of heart' Stroke of genius, perhaps— Stroke or dark Let me stroke your cock underwater; Of course, said the God To the Goddess— m I've just aboutbhad it, Or lost it Wreaking all havoc on my mind, Or most of it I turn the whole goddamn world on a dollar And then I move on, There are so many others I hold my guitar like a body, It's a small one Like a daughter Or just someone to love me If that's what you're after, I'm honestly sorry I'm not pure of heart And nobody loves me It's been a week back at Equinox I've barely touched my decks But men fall in love with bodies, Not talent And I need somebody to love me For balance Cause I've been so out of it, I've been in ballet But this is New York, And that was Alaska. Callie whatever's music fucking sucks and she gets to open. For deadmau5. Okay, white supremacy. I get it. I quit. I don't know why I even try. It's okay. She's a little white girl. She's gonna look 40 in 5 years. Yeah, and I'm gonna have permanent lines in my head from getting fucked over by the world continually for being a fat black woman. But you still won't look 40. But I WILL be 40. But you won't LOOK it. I'm so broken and lonely I just want someone to hold me and love me But that just won't happen Love isn't for me I was just born in the wrong fucking body (No free days) I had named my new skateboard Ryder, and though it had been acquired quite by accident, it had been an instant manifestation that was somewhat unexpected, although I had explicitedly listed a new skateboard amongst the other items I had wished for in the series of spells that had would up the whole world into a strange and yet somehow better place, though of course not without its own shortcomings, and of course ultimately my own shortcomings— the spells had been working in the ways that they always did—explicitly accurate, and manifesting quickly with an unexpected twist, which would come with some sort of strange sting that didn't last long—but the lesson itself did, which was the thing that was important. I was in and out of love—of course, not all the way out of it entirely, but still bruised and burned from all that I had learned about the men I had fallen for, the the industry I had been at the very least introduced to, but still not entirely enough so that I was paid well, of course, pouting in every single sense that I would have to take a regular job at some point to smooth and jazzy, City-style modern and chic the synethetic experience / the sound of synesthesia - hard, weird, 90's sounding techno, glitch I hated Hudson Yards more than any other Equinox I had ever been to in my life—and I considered the fact that I had been to so many an achievement—I'd have never been able to afford it if I hadn't gotten on the mailing lists, awaiting the perfect time to join, eliminating the pricey initiation fee— then, something like $250, now having doubled, and all the more with an exclusive top-tier which has first excluded me from entering the Hudson Yards location at all, the actuality which had led to my eventual delay in arriving to JFK after all, though it had first been the Spirit Airlines flight delay out of LA and into Vegas to retrieve my drum machine, which now sat in yet another pawn shop in New York, and though I had at least until October to pick it up, I wasn't at all happy with any of the progress—or lack there of that I was making in music; the specifics of the curse began to unravel— and since I had once been married to a sufferably failed musician, it was more than likely his abborent energy the block which had been dellaying my eventual success—and there was an eventual success, knowing that all curses and hexes are ultimately returned to the sender at a devastatingly amplified . Though I seemed myself marked I realized it had been somrone or something all along that had allowed be back into Equinox in the first place, which was the only thing in the world I had wanted, besides food, water, and music— almost e entirely leaving love out of it, because in a sense there was this ever-present inner knowing that I could never be loved: my own child had during our last conversation regurgitated the sadness and destruction of the negative energy my ex had indudated him with—stories of dead babies and unsupervised near-death experiences where my ex husband, always reluctant to wake up, had slept through some tragedy in which my then-toddler had gotten himself into—he had slept through out eldest son's death, and of course, his over sleeping had lead to the numerous jobs he had lost over the course of our relationship, probably doomed to fail from the start but myself never having been aware of how blind becoming morbidly obsese and so drug-dependent could cause one to experience a walking death in itself—the loss of two children, the faithless, loveless My plan for the day has been to get into the sports club early with my laptop in hand, but of course, the quest for proper and balanced nutrition continued, as I had finally of course squired the protein I had been so desperately lacking, but still with the deficits of the actual energy I needed— I waxwork. Nice I awoke just before noon, only to drift back into a dream for 40 minutes or so, awaking again at 30 past the hour in a a rush and frenzy to skate to the food bank, which I had been m dreading, especially because it was my third week in a row and I knew for a fact. That threes were indeed a charm of some sort— a heavy esoteric rule that I had followed quite faithfully—so faithfully, in fact, that I always knew that true third time doing, saying, or seeing anything was a certain sign of rapid change, in one way or another, and proceeded in all with heavy caution. This also meant that it had been threee weekend since the last episode in my podcast series, and though I had thought to perhaps pawn my audio interface as well as my almost defunct MPC studi, as I was more preoccupied with improving my body so that I might find someone decent to offset the awful and horrible sexual monster that had been welling up from inside me — the reason I hated Hudson Yards the most1- mirrors and reminders, reflections of how I would never be good enough, in a sea of picture perfect Barbie dolls of all shapes and sizes— and I had nearly lost my mind and soul just by way of googling the upcoming support for the deadmau5 vs. test pilot show, very fittingly at the Brooklyn mirage and on the date which marked the anniversary of my own suicide, august 4th; and as the date grew near, I wanted more and more to try again1-to escape the horrible and awful cruel world of inequality—I hated the blackness of it all— the black slaves of Jamaica queens m a heavy contrast to the thoughtless Barbie dolls that didn't have tow work or think for anything—they were created just to have fun, lounge, party, and fuck—all of which I wanted to do but never had the chance. My entire life I had been too dark and too ugly to be pretty or adorable—and of course, my mother's scattered actions and bipolar personality, perhaps even schizophrenic tendencies which had been beaten into her by her father, rather than genetically inherited—had kept me from being good at anything. Sports, music, or anything which might have allowed me to be successful were often abandoned—my mother's temper tantrums always acting up on days which I was due to rehearsal or practice— eventually quitting because it no longer excited me, her mood swings controlling my entire destiny, and causing the uproar of anxiety and unconscious addiction that culminated in my doomed, abusive narrorator (Don't leave me like this) (From am to pm). Love,'money, party Alive fidkros The fight to keep blacks and browns in the darker and lower realms while elevating the whites and hybrid elites into ascension continues to deter the human race from true and forward evolution. "Post raciality and the silent technologically driven race war in America" -CC Stone Pollen on my lips, I love to kiss you; Missing the elliptical at Equinox A full eclipse And I've never known anything to smell to sweet as this, Just naturally I'd loved to be loved But I'm just getting famous I guess that's the trade, then A sacrifice, as if I'd not already lost my life, —Or slit my wrists Intermittent 5th dimension Tim, or what they used to call him… But he can't remember. This is major Tom, Another psalm Or poem, From Ms. Gypsy Spinning into mixes, Drifting into spiderwebs as a reminder She would write for The Times, Like the power, or a webinar She borrowed the guitar. Which then, became a gift So she dismissed him—the minister. Or who administers the medicine Of the administration Menustration , under stress of course Or as she keeps on fasting For Last Earth Seeing things? Certainly! I've been fasting, and under the influence of Dillon Francis God Dammit Hanzel Did you have to Hold her hand And have the other one Covered in Kandi On that album cover?! I can't stand it Whatever the master plan is Give me the schematics, quick So I can land a man to match with That holds a candle To that piñata Maybe I should shapeshift into Taylor Swift So I can get some dick in The right complexion… Is that too explicit? Or maybe I should just stick to Skrillex The first on my wishlist— Until Kayla Lauren (Or the other ones— And there's a lot of em; The rabbit's always on the run) Hey Allison Or Alex— Yeah, that's it I'm still an insomniac Just trying to forget that I'm black And only mildly attractive With a New New York accent And sudden onset passive aggression From the stress and pressure of synethesia And mastering my tracks Without another expensive subscription And another one Here comes another one The sun just spins in circles and whistles This is the worst I've ever written with indifference ‘Fear nothing' On, the fire burns And nothing more she ever feared It only gets better from here It only get better from here It only gets better from here Still, my love burns Like a smouldering flame Here, a star was born from the ashes, Destined for fame ‘Avarita,' She called, from the caverns of lust— The curse has been broken Come dawn, from the dusk So much for purpose— Gone was the suffering; Sending smoke signals to dieties Laying beneath all the names, The labels so sacred Such secrets and fables, The table of L E G E N D S All worlds collide in collisions of conciousness, space, and time as we travel the ever-infinite multidimensions of existence as we know it… (Or—Don't.) Rules of Time Travel: Don't. First rule of inter dimensional time traveling… DON'T. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U. [VOID.]

First rule of inter dimensional time traveling… DON'T. I smelled like an old, wet bandaid. My heart wasn't in it anymore—looking in the mirror for progress after nearly a month of extreme training and dieting, i could feel the difference, but not see it. Perhaps it was the result of sleeping under the white devil, or just the lack of good coffee since departing from Mexico—still, something was off about my energy, in the way that I was moving about my day to day—or, I should note, the way that I was barely moving—I seemed to be under a spell of mediocrity and apathetic listlessness, emotions and passions welling up in an uncontrollable, irritating and chaotic fury; i was lost from love. I hugged a tree in the entryway to the parking lot if the gym; it almost seemed to hug me back—and, in the broad daylight, I fought the will to lay my head down in relief, as if she had offered me a shoulder to cry all the tears that I needed; behold, however, the tears would come indeed, as I barely tried at the pectoral machine or whatever it was. After selecting Daft Punk's Discovery Album as the track for my first circuit, One Last Time bellowing into my sweaty earbuds as tears streamed down by face—without having to address it in too long, I realized I missed my son; not that it mattered. My ex husband was the evil everything that had ruined me—or rather, I was the evil thing that ruined myself by loving him. At least I was no longer nearly 400 pounds—not that it mattered. The leftovers made it impossible for me to go about my life acting as if nothing had happened; I couldn't wear almost anything without bulging and unsightly rolls. Being dark skinned might not have been so bad, as long as I could be perfect—maybe that's why every rapper bragged about fixing up girls in exchange for sex; it was too bad I wasn't attracted to black men enough to let that happened. Maybe I was supposed to have taken the bait of my brother and law while living in his home in Las Vegas—I could have had the all access pass to driving one of his three Mercedes, and maybe even lucky enough to have had my skin reduction surgery sponsored by the drug money he boastfully prided himself on, being a “business owner”. But no, I had let my own pride neglect his underhanded proposition; He couldn't fuck be, but even almost a year later, at least had the benefit of making me feel stupid for not taking advantage, obsessing over my body to a point that anyone would clearly consider unhealthy. I occasionally would look up at the screens in front of whatever machine I was working at, wondering “What the fuck am I watching?” As always, I knew if it was FX, it was assuredly something captivating—I didn't need more than its logo to be reminded of my once-obsession with Kurt Sutter's writing, demolishing Sons of Anarchy episode by episode once weekly for years, and repeatedly bing watching The Sheild until I could recite each episode word for word, and understand the happenings of any given season In Portuguese. Fuck this. For some reason, it was Rihanna's hit Only girl In the world blasting over the loud speakers after the conclusion of the Daft Punk album—that made me quit and call it a day; I had only been on the floor an hour and a half, which anyone would call a good workout, but to me it felt like giving up—like I was weak; but something about Rihanna's voice had allowed the picture of her perfect, skinny silhouette from the cover of one of her albums, or maybe a single (I didn't know, as I had never really considered myself a fan of hers, even though I could admire her vocals, and did recall with vivid conclusion cycling at least two of her hits on repeat in my high school days) but either way, I had probably always harnessed a deep disgruntlement and bitterness towards her, not simply for being about the complexion my mother constantly told me she wished I could have been, or “should” have been, but also for being so wonderously skinny—another thing my mother wished I should and could have been and always hated me for not being—though, it was true that the last time we had spoken, she commented on how perfect my figure was becoming, to which I replied cockily “I know.” But I hated everything about y figure now, and hadn't even the clothes I needed to help accentuate it; I possessed only a low-impact sports bra, which would have been a cute tube top on anyone with a body worth looking at—and a Victoria's Secret zip-up sports bra, which was falling apart and after being washed and worn to bits, was now not only too big, but also lacked almost any support at all. I felt fit, and probably was, under all the wretched skin and sagging I was sure came first handed my from Satan himself, as I was sure God was punishing me by assigning me to such an unforgivably unlovable vessel—not to say I wasn't fuckable, as I always knew I could l grab a decent enough dick and take it for a spin—but I had never seen the dopey-eyed, puppy like gaze of a man in love with a beautiful woman on me, ever, besides once—on the heavy (read: obese) light-skinned black man who I befriended at my first EDC, who clung to me for dear life and treated me like I was the light of the worlds for the duration of our friendship—-SUPACREE's first fan, a true hype man, and valuable asset during my free from Alaska; however, I never did feel the same thing for him as he did for me and was thoroughly dismissive, eventually growing apart entirely—however, if a decent looking Caucasian man had ever looked at me or treated me the same, i would know I had somehow reached my goal. I just wasn't attracted to black men—something I had been made, of course by black men, to feel ashamed of—certainly in the same way that most Caucasian men weren't really “into black girls”; probably the same thing that made all little white girls appear as demonic vampires, aside from the actual privelege and soul-sucking unawareness of any of the world's actual problems. It was becoming clearer and clearer with each passing day at Equinox that I was again the Guinea pig central to some kind of secret social experiment, or worse, psychological—which meant of course I had become allures into a trap and had always been the perfect prey—still a dumb, fat, lazy and now hood-bound nigger with a taste for luxury and the wellness that had been stripped from the lower realms at all—desperate for the life I had designed for myself on my own but still trapped in some kind of hex or curse—some strange and bodiless demon always find its way next to, around or near me—anyone I liked, loved, or became close to had vanished, and I was left alone to suffer in the loveless and dark underworld without any solid way to escape. I had been fed with garbage for weeks —almost no fruits and vegetables at all, and had been without water for quite some time, my clothes were embarrassingly worn and dirty, wreaking of mildew—and now it was even worse—demons were always quick to overcome the body of any female I wished I could be— my entire life has been an nightmare, the glimpses and flashes of regression flashing through my mind— my abusive mother, my abusive husband— I was an altogether shit person, doomed to again succumb to slavery; meanwhile, the pretty and perfect bodies around me seemed not to worry, work, or care at all—I was taunted with everything I wanted and everything I loved—and it had taken me all the time I had lived to realized that I had never been loved at all. I guess I'm not ‘pure of heart' Stroke of genius, perhaps— Stroke or dark Let me stroke your cock underwater; Of course, said the God To the Goddess— m I've just aboutbhad it, Or lost it Wreaking all havoc on my mind, Or most of it I turn the whole goddamn world on a dollar And then I move on, There are so many others I hold my guitar like a body, It's a small one Like a daughter Or just someone to love me If that's what you're after, I'm honestly sorry I'm not pure of heart And nobody loves me It's been a week back at Equinox I've barely touched my decks But men fall in love with bodies, Not talent And I need somebody to love me For balance Cause I've been so out of it, I've been in ballet But this is New York, And that was Alaska. Callie whatever's music fucking sucks and she gets to open. For deadmau5. Okay, white supremacy. I get it. I quit. I don't know why I even try. It's okay. She's a little white girl. She's gonna look 40 in 5 years. Yeah, and I'm gonna have permanent lines in my head from getting fucked over by the world continually for being a fat black woman. But you still won't look 40. But I WILL be 40. But you won't LOOK it. I'm so broken and lonely I just want someone to hold me and love me But that just won't happen Love isn't for me I was just born in the wrong fucking body (No free days) I had named my new skateboard Ryder, and though it had been acquired quite by accident, it had been an instant manifestation that was somewhat unexpected, although I had explicitedly listed a new skateboard amongst the other items I had wished for in the series of spells that had would up the whole world into a strange and yet somehow better place, though of course not without its own shortcomings, and of course ultimately my own shortcomings— the spells had been working in the ways that they always did—explicitly accurate, and manifesting quickly with an unexpected twist, which would come with some sort of strange sting that didn't last long—but the lesson itself did, which was the thing that was important. I was in and out of love—of course, not all the way out of it entirely, but still bruised and burned from all that I had learned about the men I had fallen for, the the industry I had been at the very least introduced to, but still not entirely enough so that I was paid well, of course, pouting in every single sense that I would have to take a regular job at some point to smooth and jazzy, City-style modern and chic the synethetic experience / the sound of synesthesia - hard, weird, 90's sounding techno, glitch I hated Hudson Yards more than any other Equinox I had ever been to in my life—and I considered the fact that I had been to so many an achievement—I'd have never been able to afford it if I hadn't gotten on the mailing lists, awaiting the perfect time to join, eliminating the pricey initiation fee— then, something like $250, now having doubled, and all the more with an exclusive top-tier which has first excluded me from entering the Hudson Yards location at all, the actuality which had led to my eventual delay in arriving to JFK after all, though it had first been the Spirit Airlines flight delay out of LA and into Vegas to retrieve my drum machine, which now sat in yet another pawn shop in New York, and though I had at least until October to pick it up, I wasn't at all happy with any of the progress—or lack there of that I was making in music; the specifics of the curse began to unravel— and since I had once been married to a sufferably failed musician, it was more than likely his abborent energy the block which had been dellaying my eventual success—and there was an eventual success, knowing that all curses and hexes are ultimately returned to the sender at a devastatingly amplified . Though I seemed myself marked I realized it had been somrone or something all along that had allowed be back into Equinox in the first place, which was the only thing in the world I had wanted, besides food, water, and music— almost e entirely leaving love out of it, because in a sense there was this ever-present inner knowing that I could never be loved: my own child had during our last conversation regurgitated the sadness and destruction of the negative energy my ex had indudated him with—stories of dead babies and unsupervised near-death experiences where my ex husband, always reluctant to wake up, had slept through some tragedy in which my then-toddler had gotten himself into—he had slept through out eldest son's death, and of course, his over sleeping had lead to the numerous jobs he had lost over the course of our relationship, probably doomed to fail from the start but myself never having been aware of how blind becoming morbidly obsese and so drug-dependent could cause one to experience a walking death in itself—the loss of two children, the faithless, loveless My plan for the day has been to get into the sports club early with my laptop in hand, but of course, the quest for proper and balanced nutrition continued, as I had finally of course squired the protein I had been so desperately lacking, but still with the deficits of the actual energy I needed— I waxwork. Nice I awoke just before noon, only to drift back into a dream for 40 minutes or so, awaking again at 30 past the hour in a a rush and frenzy to skate to the food bank, which I had been m dreading, especially because it was my third week in a row and I knew for a fact. That threes were indeed a charm of some sort— a heavy esoteric rule that I had followed quite faithfully—so faithfully, in fact, that I always knew that true third time doing, saying, or seeing anything was a certain sign of rapid change, in one way or another, and proceeded in all with heavy caution. This also meant that it had been threee weekend since the last episode in my podcast series, and though I had thought to perhaps pawn my audio interface as well as my almost defunct MPC studi, as I was more preoccupied with improving my body so that I might find someone decent to offset the awful and horrible sexual monster that had been welling up from inside me — the reason I hated Hudson Yards the most1- mirrors and reminders, reflections of how I would never be good enough, in a sea of picture perfect Barbie dolls of all shapes and sizes— and I had nearly lost my mind and soul just by way of googling the upcoming support for the deadmau5 vs. test pilot show, very fittingly at the Brooklyn mirage and on the date which marked the anniversary of my own suicide, august 4th; and as the date grew near, I wanted more and more to try again1-to escape the horrible and awful cruel world of inequality—I hated the blackness of it all— the black slaves of Jamaica queens m a heavy contrast to the thoughtless Barbie dolls that didn't have tow work or think for anything—they were created just to have fun, lounge, party, and fuck—all of which I wanted to do but never had the chance. My entire life I had been too dark and too ugly to be pretty or adorable—and of course, my mother's scattered actions and bipolar personality, perhaps even schizophrenic tendencies which had been beaten into her by her father, rather than genetically inherited—had kept me from being good at anything. Sports, music, or anything which might have allowed me to be successful were often abandoned—my mother's temper tantrums always acting up on days which I was due to rehearsal or practice— eventually quitting because it no longer excited me, her mood swings controlling my entire destiny, and causing the uproar of anxiety and unconscious addiction that culminated in my doomed, abusive narrorator (Don't leave me like this) (From am to pm). Love,'money, party Alive fidkros The fight to keep blacks and browns in the darker and lower realms while elevating the whites and hybrid elites into ascension continues to deter the human race from true and forward evolution. "Post raciality and the silent technologically driven race war in America" -CC Stone Pollen on my lips, I love to kiss you; Missing the elliptical at Equinox A full eclipse And I've never known anything to smell to sweet as this, Just naturally I'd loved to be loved But I'm just getting famous I guess that's the trade, then A sacrifice, as if I'd not already lost my life, —Or slit my wrists Intermittent 5th dimension Tim, or what they used to call him… But he can't remember. This is major Tom, Another psalm Or poem, From Ms. Gypsy Spinning into mixes, Drifting into spiderwebs as a reminder She would write for The Times, Like the power, or a webinar She borrowed the guitar. Which then, became a gift So she dismissed him—the minister. Or who administers the medicine Of the administration Menustration , under stress of course Or as she keeps on fasting For Last Earth Seeing things? Certainly! I've been fasting, and under the influence of Dillon Francis God Dammit Hanzel Did you have to Hold her hand And have the other one Covered in Kandi On that album cover?! I can't stand it Whatever the master plan is Give me the schematics, quick So I can land a man to match with That holds a candle To that piñata Maybe I should shapeshift into Taylor Swift So I can get some dick in The right complexion… Is that too explicit? Or maybe I should just stick to Skrillex The first on my wishlist— Until Kayla Lauren (Or the other ones— And there's a lot of em; The rabbit's always on the run) Hey Allison Or Alex— Yeah, that's it I'm still an insomniac Just trying to forget that I'm black And only mildly attractive With a New New York accent And sudden onset passive aggression From the stress and pressure of synethesia And mastering my tracks Without another expensive subscription And another one Here comes another one The sun just spins in circles and whistles This is the worst I've ever written with indifference ‘Fear nothing' On, the fire burns And nothing more she ever feared It only gets better from here It only get better from here It only gets better from here Still, my love burns Like a smouldering flame Here, a star was born from the ashes, Destined for fame ‘Avarita,' She called, from the caverns of lust— The curse has been broken Come dawn, from the dusk So much for purpose— Gone was the suffering; Sending smoke signals to dieties Laying beneath all the names, The labels so sacred Such secrets and fables, The table of L E G E N D S All worlds collide in collisions of conciousness, space, and time as we travel the ever-infinite multidimensions of existence as we know it… (Or—Don't.) Rules of Time Travel: Don't. First rule of inter dimensional time traveling… DON'T. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U. [VOID]

First rule of inter dimensional time traveling… DON'T. I smelled like an old, wet bandaid. My heart wasn't in it anymore—looking in the mirror for progress after nearly a month of extreme training and dieting, i could feel the difference, but not see it. Perhaps it was the result of sleeping under the white devil, or just the lack of good coffee since departing from Mexico—still, something was off about my energy, in the way that I was moving about my day to day—or, I should note, the way that I was barely moving—I seemed to be under a spell of mediocrity and apathetic listlessness, emotions and passions welling up in an uncontrollable, irritating and chaotic fury; i was lost from love. I hugged a tree in the entryway to the parking lot if the gym; it almost seemed to hug me back—and, in the broad daylight, I fought the will to lay my head down in relief, as if she had offered me a shoulder to cry all the tears that I needed; behold, however, the tears would come indeed, as I barely tried at the pectoral machine or whatever it was. After selecting Daft Punk's Discovery Album as the track for my first circuit, One Last Time bellowing into my sweaty earbuds as tears streamed down by face—without having to address it in too long, I realized I missed my son; not that it mattered. My ex husband was the evil everything that had ruined me—or rather, I was the evil thing that ruined myself by loving him. At least I was no longer nearly 400 pounds—not that it mattered. The leftovers made it impossible for me to go about my life acting as if nothing had happened; I couldn't wear almost anything without bulging and unsightly rolls. Being dark skinned might not have been so bad, as long as I could be perfect—maybe that's why every rapper bragged about fixing up girls in exchange for sex; it was too bad I wasn't attracted to black men enough to let that happened. Maybe I was supposed to have taken the bait of my brother and law while living in his home in Las Vegas—I could have had the all access pass to driving one of his three Mercedes, and maybe even lucky enough to have had my skin reduction surgery sponsored by the drug money he boastfully prided himself on, being a “business owner”. But no, I had let my own pride neglect his underhanded proposition; He couldn't fuck be, but even almost a year later, at least had the benefit of making me feel stupid for not taking advantage, obsessing over my body to a point that anyone would clearly consider unhealthy. I occasionally would look up at the screens in front of whatever machine I was working at, wondering “What the fuck am I watching?” As always, I knew if it was FX, it was assuredly something captivating—I didn't need more than its logo to be reminded of my once-obsession with Kurt Sutter's writing, demolishing Sons of Anarchy episode by episode once weekly for years, and repeatedly bing watching The Sheild until I could recite each episode word for word, and understand the happenings of any given season In Portuguese. Fuck this. For some reason, it was Rihanna's hit Only girl In the world blasting over the loud speakers after the conclusion of the Daft Punk album—that made me quit and call it a day; I had only been on the floor an hour and a half, which anyone would call a good workout, but to me it felt like giving up—like I was weak; but something about Rihanna's voice had allowed the picture of her perfect, skinny silhouette from the cover of one of her albums, or maybe a single (I didn't know, as I had never really considered myself a fan of hers, even though I could admire her vocals, and did recall with vivid conclusion cycling at least two of her hits on repeat in my high school days) but either way, I had probably always harnessed a deep disgruntlement and bitterness towards her, not simply for being about the complexion my mother constantly told me she wished I could have been, or “should” have been, but also for being so wonderously skinny—another thing my mother wished I should and could have been and always hated me for not being—though, it was true that the last time we had spoken, she commented on how perfect my figure was becoming, to which I replied cockily “I know.” But I hated everything about y figure now, and hadn't even the clothes I needed to help accentuate it; I possessed only a low-impact sports bra, which would have been a cute tube top on anyone with a body worth looking at—and a Victoria's Secret zip-up sports bra, which was falling apart and after being washed and worn to bits, was now not only too big, but also lacked almost any support at all. I felt fit, and probably was, under all the wretched skin and sagging I was sure came first handed my from Satan himself, as I was sure God was punishing me by assigning me to such an unforgivably unlovable vessel—not to say I wasn't fuckable, as I always knew I could l grab a decent enough dick and take it for a spin—but I had never seen the dopey-eyed, puppy like gaze of a man in love with a beautiful woman on me, ever, besides once—on the heavy (read: obese) light-skinned black man who I befriended at my first EDC, who clung to me for dear life and treated me like I was the light of the worlds for the duration of our friendship—-SUPACREE's first fan, a true hype man, and valuable asset during my free from Alaska; however, I never did feel the same thing for him as he did for me and was thoroughly dismissive, eventually growing apart entirely—however, if a decent looking Caucasian man had ever looked at me or treated me the same, i would know I had somehow reached my goal. I just wasn't attracted to black men—something I had been made, of course by black men, to feel ashamed of—certainly in the same way that most Caucasian men weren't really “into black girls”; probably the same thing that made all little white girls appear as demonic vampires, aside from the actual privelege and soul-sucking unawareness of any of the world's actual problems. It was becoming clearer and clearer with each passing day at Equinox that I was again the Guinea pig central to some kind of secret social experiment, or worse, psychological—which meant of course I had become allures into a trap and had always been the perfect prey—still a dumb, fat, lazy and now hood-bound nigger with a taste for luxury and the wellness that had been stripped from the lower realms at all—desperate for the life I had designed for myself on my own but still trapped in some kind of hex or curse—some strange and bodiless demon always find its way next to, around or near me—anyone I liked, loved, or became close to had vanished, and I was left alone to suffer in the loveless and dark underworld without any solid way to escape. I had been fed with garbage for weeks —almost no fruits and vegetables at all, and had been without water for quite some time, my clothes were embarrassingly worn and dirty, wreaking of mildew—and now it was even worse—demons were always quick to overcome the body of any female I wished I could be— my entire life has been an nightmare, the glimpses and flashes of regression flashing through my mind— my abusive mother, my abusive husband— I was an altogether shit person, doomed to again succumb to slavery; meanwhile, the pretty and perfect bodies around me seemed not to worry, work, or care at all—I was taunted with everything I wanted and everything I loved—and it had taken me all the time I had lived to realized that I had never been loved at all. I guess I'm not ‘pure of heart' Stroke of genius, perhaps— Stroke or dark Let me stroke your cock underwater; Of course, said the God To the Goddess— m I've just aboutbhad it, Or lost it Wreaking all havoc on my mind, Or most of it I turn the whole goddamn world on a dollar And then I move on, There are so many others I hold my guitar like a body, It's a small one Like a daughter Or just someone to love me If that's what you're after, I'm honestly sorry I'm not pure of heart And nobody loves me It's been a week back at Equinox I've barely touched my decks But men fall in love with bodies, Not talent And I need somebody to love me For balance Cause I've been so out of it, I've been in ballet But this is New York, And that was Alaska. Callie whatever's music fucking sucks and she gets to open. For deadmau5. Okay, white supremacy. I get it. I quit. I don't know why I even try. It's okay. She's a little white girl. She's gonna look 40 in 5 years. Yeah, and I'm gonna have permanent lines in my head from getting fucked over by the world continually for being a fat black woman. But you still won't look 40. But I WILL be 40. But you won't LOOK it. I'm so broken and lonely I just want someone to hold me and love me But that just won't happen Love isn't for me I was just born in the wrong fucking body (No free days) I had named my new skateboard Ryder, and though it had been acquired quite by accident, it had been an instant manifestation that was somewhat unexpected, although I had explicitedly listed a new skateboard amongst the other items I had wished for in the series of spells that had would up the whole world into a strange and yet somehow better place, though of course not without its own shortcomings, and of course ultimately my own shortcomings— the spells had been working in the ways that they always did—explicitly accurate, and manifesting quickly with an unexpected twist, which would come with some sort of strange sting that didn't last long—but the lesson itself did, which was the thing that was important. I was in and out of love—of course, not all the way out of it entirely, but still bruised and burned from all that I had learned about the men I had fallen for, the the industry I had been at the very least introduced to, but still not entirely enough so that I was paid well, of course, pouting in every single sense that I would have to take a regular job at some point to smooth and jazzy, City-style modern and chic the synethetic experience / the sound of synesthesia - hard, weird, 90's sounding techno, glitch I hated Hudson Yards more than any other Equinox I had ever been to in my life—and I considered the fact that I had been to so many an achievement—I'd have never been able to afford it if I hadn't gotten on the mailing lists, awaiting the perfect time to join, eliminating the pricey initiation fee— then, something like $250, now having doubled, and all the more with an exclusive top-tier which has first excluded me from entering the Hudson Yards location at all, the actuality which had led to my eventual delay in arriving to JFK after all, though it had first been the Spirit Airlines flight delay out of LA and into Vegas to retrieve my drum machine, which now sat in yet another pawn shop in New York, and though I had at least until October to pick it up, I wasn't at all happy with any of the progress—or lack there of that I was making in music; the specifics of the curse began to unravel— and since I had once been married to a sufferably failed musician, it was more than likely his abborent energy the block which had been dellaying my eventual success—and there was an eventual success, knowing that all curses and hexes are ultimately returned to the sender at a devastatingly amplified . Though I seemed myself marked I realized it had been somrone or something all along that had allowed be back into Equinox in the first place, which was the only thing in the world I had wanted, besides food, water, and music— almost e entirely leaving love out of it, because in a sense there was this ever-present inner knowing that I could never be loved: my own child had during our last conversation regurgitated the sadness and destruction of the negative energy my ex had indudated him with—stories of dead babies and unsupervised near-death experiences where my ex husband, always reluctant to wake up, had slept through some tragedy in which my then-toddler had gotten himself into—he had slept through out eldest son's death, and of course, his over sleeping had lead to the numerous jobs he had lost over the course of our relationship, probably doomed to fail from the start but myself never having been aware of how blind becoming morbidly obsese and so drug-dependent could cause one to experience a walking death in itself—the loss of two children, the faithless, loveless My plan for the day has been to get into the sports club early with my laptop in hand, but of course, the quest for proper and balanced nutrition continued, as I had finally of course squired the protein I had been so desperately lacking, but still with the deficits of the actual energy I needed— I waxwork. Nice I awoke just before noon, only to drift back into a dream for 40 minutes or so, awaking again at 30 past the hour in a a rush and frenzy to skate to the food bank, which I had been m dreading, especially because it was my third week in a row and I knew for a fact. That threes were indeed a charm of some sort— a heavy esoteric rule that I had followed quite faithfully—so faithfully, in fact, that I always knew that true third time doing, saying, or seeing anything was a certain sign of rapid change, in one way or another, and proceeded in all with heavy caution. This also meant that it had been threee weekend since the last episode in my podcast series, and though I had thought to perhaps pawn my audio interface as well as my almost defunct MPC studi, as I was more preoccupied with improving my body so that I might find someone decent to offset the awful and horrible sexual monster that had been welling up from inside me — the reason I hated Hudson Yards the most1- mirrors and reminders, reflections of how I would never be good enough, in a sea of picture perfect Barbie dolls of all shapes and sizes— and I had nearly lost my mind and soul just by way of googling the upcoming support for the deadmau5 vs. test pilot show, very fittingly at the Brooklyn mirage and on the date which marked the anniversary of my own suicide, august 4th; and as the date grew near, I wanted more and more to try again1-to escape the horrible and awful cruel world of inequality—I hated the blackness of it all— the black slaves of Jamaica queens m a heavy contrast to the thoughtless Barbie dolls that didn't have tow work or think for anything—they were created just to have fun, lounge, party, and fuck—all of which I wanted to do but never had the chance. My entire life I had been too dark and too ugly to be pretty or adorable—and of course, my mother's scattered actions and bipolar personality, perhaps even schizophrenic tendencies which had been beaten into her by her father, rather than genetically inherited—had kept me from being good at anything. Sports, music, or anything which might have allowed me to be successful were often abandoned—my mother's temper tantrums always acting up on days which I was due to rehearsal or practice— eventually quitting because it no longer excited me, her mood swings controlling my entire destiny, and causing the uproar of anxiety and unconscious addiction that culminated in my doomed, abusive narrorator (Don't leave me like this) (From am to pm). Love,'money, party Alive fidkros The fight to keep blacks and browns in the darker and lower realms while elevating the whites and hybrid elites into ascension continues to deter the human race from true and forward evolution. "Post raciality and the silent technologically driven race war in America" -CC Stone Pollen on my lips, I love to kiss you; Missing the elliptical at Equinox A full eclipse And I've never known anything to smell to sweet as this, Just naturally I'd loved to be loved But I'm just getting famous I guess that's the trade, then A sacrifice, as if I'd not already lost my life, —Or slit my wrists Intermittent 5th dimension Tim, or what they used to call him… But he can't remember. This is major Tom, Another psalm Or poem, From Ms. Gypsy Spinning into mixes, Drifting into spiderwebs as a reminder She would write for The Times, Like the power, or a webinar She borrowed the guitar. Which then, became a gift So she dismissed him—the minister. Or who administers the medicine Of the administration Menustration , under stress of course Or as she keeps on fasting For Last Earth Seeing things? Certainly! I've been fasting, and under the influence of Dillon Francis God Dammit Hanzel Did you have to Hold her hand And have the other one Covered in Kandi On that album cover?! I can't stand it Whatever the master plan is Give me the schematics, quick So I can land a man to match with That holds a candle To that piñata Maybe I should shapeshift into Taylor Swift So I can get some dick in The right complexion… Is that too explicit? Or maybe I should just stick to Skrillex The first on my wishlist— Until Kayla Lauren (Or the other ones— And there's a lot of em; The rabbit's always on the run) Hey Allison Or Alex— Yeah, that's it I'm still an insomniac Just trying to forget that I'm black And only mildly attractive With a New New York accent And sudden onset passive aggression From the stress and pressure of synethesia And mastering my tracks Without another expensive subscription And another one Here comes another one The sun just spins in circles and whistles This is the worst I've ever written with indifference ‘Fear nothing' On, the fire burns And nothing more she ever feared It only gets better from here It only get better from here It only gets better from here Still, my love burns Like a smouldering flame Here, a star was born from the ashes, Destined for fame ‘Avarita,' She called, from the caverns of lust— The curse has been broken Come dawn, from the dusk So much for purpose— Gone was the suffering; Sending smoke signals to dieties Laying beneath all the names, The labels so sacred Such secrets and fables, The table of L E G E N D S All worlds collide in collisions of conciousness, space, and time as we travel the ever-infinite multidimensions of existence as we know it… (Or—Don't.) Rules of Time Travel: Don't. First rule of inter dimensional time traveling… DON'T. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U. [VOODOO CHILD.]

NEW FOR FEBRUARY 1, 2024 Crinkle, crack and a pop of good music . . . Snap and Pop - The Best Radio You Have Never Heard Vol. 477 1. Radar Love - Shut Up And Kiss Me 2. Same Old Song and Dance (live) - Aerosmith 3. When Will I Be Loved - John Fogerty w/ Bruce Springsteen 4. Fortunate Son - Todd Snider 5. Your Song (live) - Bonnie Raitt 6. Beautiful People (live) - Melanie 7. Remind Myself To Breathe - Jared Rabin 8. Get Back - George Harrison 9. Happiness Is A Warm Gun - World Party 10. Shanghai Sky (live) - Joe Jackson 11. Voodoo Child (live) - Eric Clapton and Steve Winwood 12. Dirty City (live) - Steve Winwood 13. Anyway / Here Comes The Supernatural Anaethetist / The Lamia / Silent Sorrows In Empty Boats (live) - Genesis 14. Too Nice To Talk To / I Confess (live) - The English Beat 15. No One Like You / If You Ask Me (I Won't Say No) (alt) - Pete Shelley 16. Healing / Time Heals (live) - Todd Rundgren The Best Radio You Have Never Heard. In the grooves since 2004 . . . Accept No Substitute Click to leave comments on the Facebook page.

Hulk Hogan (@hulkhogan) is a legendary professional wrestler and a 2-time WWE Hall of Famer. He sits down with Chris Van Vliet for a candid conversation at Hogan's Hangout in Clearwater Beach, FL to talk about whether Chris Hemsworth is still going to play him in an upcoming movie, where Hulk Hogan ends and where Terry Bollea begins, joining the nWo and turning heel in WCW, his iconic match with The Rock at WrestleMania 18, the last minute plan for the nWo to turn on him after that match, his Voodoo Child entrance music, does he think John Cena should have turned heel?, his match against Vince McMahon at WrestleMania 19, how close we were to having Hulk Hogan return at WrestleMania 39, the biggest regret in his career, why he never had an official last match, his favorite thing about being in TNA, the advice he would give to his younger self, his pro wrestling Mount Rushmore, 3 things he is grateful for and much more! Visit: http://hulkhoganstore.com Sponsors:  GHOSTBED: Get 40% of your purchase with the code CVV at http://ghostbed.com/cvv  MIRACLE MADE: Upgrade your sleep with Miracle Made! Go to http://TryMiracle.com/CVV and use the code CVV to claim your FREE 3 PIECE TOWEL SET and SAVE over 40% OFF  BLUECHEW: Use the code CVV to get your first month of BlueChew for FREE at http://bluechew.com  BONCHARGE: Go to http://boncharge.com/CVV and use coupon code CVV to save 15%  MYBOOKIE: Get a 50% welcome bonus when you use the code CVV and sign up at http://mybookie.ag  MUDWTR: To get 15% off go to http://mudwtr.com/cvv and use the code CVV15  MANSCAPED - Get 20% off and free worldwide shipping with the code CVV at manscaped.com  Quote I'm thinking about: Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending. – Maria Robinson For more information about Chris and INSIGHT go to: https://podcast.chrisvanvliet.com If you enjoyed this episode, could I ask you to please consider leaving a short review on Apple Podcast/iTunes? It takes less than a minute and makes a huge difference in helping to spread the word about the show and also to convince some hard-to-get guests. Follow CVV on social media:  Instagram: instagram.com/ChrisVanVliet Twitter: twitter.com/ChrisVanVliet Facebook: facebook.com/ChrisVanVliet YouTube: youtube.com/ChrisVanVliet TikTok: tiktok.com/@Chris.VanVliet Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Kidnapping, imprisonment, and traumatic rituals have been normalized in the 'brat camps' of the US. Kacey has interviewed survivors of this American equivalent of China's brainwashing program. Including a brief segment of genius and the need to transform our educational system. Links (NOTE: Spike is still sick and her brain isn't working completely up to speed, so if there's a link you think should be here but isn't, please hit us up in the comments and we'll add it). Kacey's site link to BITE Model Mendota Mental Health Institue Peper Harrow documentary: Part one Part two Aftermath News coverage on Taylor Goodridge Ira Chaleff's work on Intelligent Disobedience Jon's Book, Voodoo Child, Slight Return more about Basking Sharks!

Ep. 121 Best 4th of July Ever; Miles Connor in Nashville Welcome to this mid-summer episode of the Modern Moron.  I'm so excited to share the conversation I had with a young musician named Miles Connor.  He's currently a student at Belmont University in Nashville Tennessee and was born and raised in the Dallas Texas area.  H's e's a bit of an old soul in that he was brought up with a lot of classic rock artists from the 60's and 70's.  I believe his first instrument was the guitar but his father was and is an accomplished musician and toured professionally back in the day as a drummer.   I've been wanting to talk to Miles for YEARS, literally as I've heard over and over what an accomplished musician he was becoming and how affable and friendly his was.  Well, one of my fancy friends from my days in L.A. flew to Nashville for the 4th of July.  In fact, Julie Welch has been on this program before in one of our first episodes when we did a tribute to her parents, Ken and Mitzie Welch, who were Emmy Award winning music arrangers for the Carol Burnett show and I believe the Jack Parr show way back in the day.  Julie is also friends with a guy named Brad Paisley, who really is a household name if you ever play even a little country music in your household.  Brad performed in Nashville on the 4th of July and it was broadcast on CNN without political commentary.   Julie arranged for my guest Miles to meet her sister Gillian Welch, who has been nominated for multiple Grammy Awards over the years and winning a Grammy for Best Folk Album in 2021. THEN… she took Miles to the Paisley's home/music ranch(?) is that a thing? Where he got to not only meet Brad Paisley, but jam with him and talk music.  Brad went to the same college that Miles is currently attending.  He got to hang there the evening before the 4th with some more fancy people including SNL alum Kevin Nealon, who's a decent banjo player himself.  A couple of other names get dropped including Michael Hitchcock and Tim Bagley.  Now those two names may not seem like household names but if you saw either of them you'd say, “oh, I know that guy!”  Michael is probably most recognized for his role in Christopher Guest's “Best in Show” where he was paired with Parker Posy as a couple showing Weimaraners and they both wore braces.  See… you remember.  He also wrote and produced many episodes of the hit show Glee which ran from 2009 to 2015 and you can see him all over the place.  Tim Bagley is also a great character actor who's currently playing Brad Schraeder in the HBO hit “Somebody Somewhere”.  You'd also remember him on the show   “Monk” with Tony Shalub, Tim played Monk's neighbor Harold and of course “Larry” from Will & Grace… There I go down another rabbit hole… anyway, Both of these guys are hugely funny, Miles mentions them in his story, they are working ALL the time and are very dear to this old Moron as I knew them way back when I was in L.A. and they were… very, very young…. In case they ever hear this.  Very, very young when I first met them. Back to Miles and an additional reason I think you're going to love him is his knowledge of the history of rock and country.  Glen Campbell… was known for his guitar playing as well and Miles recalls what a great session player Glen Campbell was back in the day playing for music producer Phil Spector as well as playing and singing with the Beach Boys.  Brad Paisley is right up there in his guitar playing alongside Glen Campbell.  In fact, I'm including the link to a YouTube Video of some legendary guitar players having a session at the Fender Custom Shop playing the theme to Game of Thrones back when that show was insanely popular.  In that video are players like Tom Morello from Rage Against the Machine, Scott Ian from Anthrax, Nuno Bettencourt from Extreme and… Brad Paisley.  Now those first guys may not be number one on your Spotify list, but you have at least heard of those bands because of their longevity.  And their longevity is partially due to those outstanding musicians.  Okay, I'm off track again… So, Miles is going to tell us about his very, very exciting and fun 4th of July experience mixed in with some talk about music, guitars, steel pedal guitars and what it's like to be a young, very enthusiastic musician getting their career started.  This may be the first time you hear the name Miles Connor, but I bet it won't be the last… please enjoy… CLOSE - I told you you were going to love him.  To me, Miles has three key ingredients for success as an artist.  Vision, Drive and Focus.  He has the vision of what he wants to do, he's got lot's of drive and enthusiasm, and he's got the focus to stay on track and not get distracted by… things… or people… like… girls.  College girls.  Okay, he's doomed.  But there's nothing like a college breakup to fuel a few good songs!  See?  There's material everywhere!  Thank you so much to Miles Connor… remember that name America… and to Miles' mom and Dad, Allison and Court for giving us such a great kid!  Don't forget to like and subscribe and forward this to someone you think would enjoy it.   We're going to leave you with a live recording of Miles last year in his audition for the Dallas International Guitar Festival 10 under 20 contest, which I'm guessing is the 10 best guitarists under 20 in Dallas.  He auditions with Voodoo Child.  I have a history with this song in that I'm always late to discover things like the Hendrix version of Voodoo Chile … no “d”... which I didn't discover until 20 years after it was released in 1968 on the Electric Ladyland Album.  I was working blowing up balloons for radio station KLSX in Los Angeles and I was mesmerized by the playing and the lyrics… and it was my favorite Hendrix song: “if I don't meet you no more in this world Then I'll, I'll meet you in the next one Now don't be late, don't be late.” A couple years later I was an actual disc jockey, when people listened to the radio instead of an app for music, at a station in Santa Barbara and I really liked this “new” guy… new to me named Stevie Ray Vaughn and I see Voodoo Child on his album “Couldn't Stand the Weather” and I thought, “oh no, Stevie… I love your playing but some things should be left untouched.  Don't try to top Jimi, just leave it.”  And then I played it.  And I was humbled.  Big time.  Between Stevie Ray Vaughn's Voodoo Child (a slight return) and his equally hypnotizing jazz soaked “Riviera Paradise” I was fully into the kool-aid of Stevie Ray Vaughan.  And now, here is another guitarist who can pull off the Hendrix as well… Miles Connor.  We will definitely see you again in this world and thank you for listening to The Modern Moron. The Game Of Thrones Theme Song | Fender Custom Shop | Fender  Brad Paisley DJ Duel/Hot For Teacher - YouTube   Dave Rawlings Machine - John Paul Jones- Going to California (Live at Georgia Theatre) - YouTube   Voodoo Child- Miles Connor Blues Band - YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CmjtZBIxQxA - Inner Western Nights - Steelin' Hearts - YouTube 

Aaron is joined by a roundtable of returning guest co-pilots! The Fat Bearded Vinyl Guy (and Patreon Legend) Matt Karweick! (Patreon Legend) Tony Thomas from the A Little Bit Of Synergy Podcast! Voodoo Child (and Patreon Legend) Davey Lee Smith! And (Patreon Legend) Nick Dunning! All have come together to review Metallica's 1988 album ...And Justice For All! Rock on!Website: https://ridiculousrockrecordreviews.buzzsprout.comBecome a Patron like these fine gentlemen and help support the show!Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/R4podcast?fan_landing=trueContact us! e-mail: ridiculousrockrecords@gmail.comFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/R4podcastTwitter: @R4podcastAaronInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/r4podcaster/Check out Matt's music review website!The Fat Bearded Vinyl Guyhttps://fatbeardedvinylguy.comCheck out Tony's awesome podcast!A Little Bit Of Synergyhttps://anchor.fm/anthony-thomas22Check out Davey's You Tube channel!https://www.youtube.com/@DaveyLeeSmity

Nuevo programa cargado de novedades dentro del mundo del Hard Rock , Heavy Metal , AOR... Un repaso a la actualidad mas caliente combinado con algunos clásicos de pasado, presente y futuro ¿Nos dejas acompañarte? Ya sabes que esto esta enlatado para consumir cuando , donde y como tu quieras... Han sonado en el programa: Hell In The Club , Art Nation , Crashdiet , Circus Of Rock , New Horizon , Tigertailz , Shakra , Cry Of Dawn , Liliac , The Voodoo Child , Jelusick , Steel Rhino , Mystic Prophecy , Midnite City , Journey . Apoya al programa suscribiéndote , compartiendo y comentando. Síguenos en: ✔️Twitter: @radiohardrock75 ✔️Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/radiohardrockpodcast/ ✔️e-mail: radiohardrock75@gmail.com

Jimmy Butler does it again

They ruled radio and the charts in the mid-2000s, but when Rogue Traders started out, they were a very different proposition than the dance/rock hybrid that scored a string of hit singles a few years later. DJ/producer James Ash recalls the band's evolution from releasing disco-inspired club tracks to edgy, sample-laden anthems like "One Of My Kind" and "Voodoo Child". Recruited to front the band for top 5 smash "Voodoo Child", singer and actress Natalie Bassingthwaighte discusses the audition process to gain the gig and her reluctance to trade on her Neighbours fame to promote the single. With a four-piece line-up settled, the band went from strength to strength, with songs like "Way To Go", "Watching You, "Don't You Wanna Feel" and "I Never Liked You" ensuring they were never far from the top 10. James and Natalie share their memories of those heady days and the choice to move away from samples on 2007's Better In The Dark. Nat also talks about her decision to go solo in 2008, while James fills us in on the less commercially successful period for the band with new singer Mindi Jackson, Then, we hear how the classic line-up of Rogue Traders came to reform and are now back touring and releasing new music.Bonus material at chartbeats.com.au/aussieTwitter: @ChartBeatsAU, @TurnAroundOnJoyInstagram: @chartbeatsau, @joyturnbeataroundEmail: chartbeats.au@gmail.com

Die 69. Show (der neuen Zeitrechnung) soll nun nach 10 Jahren Infotainment die letzte Folge von Deep Red Radio sein. Die Gründe haben wir bereits ausführlich in einer Stellungnahme erörtert und somit schließen wir mit Reviews und Talk um uns anschließend in eine Pause zu begeben, die dann einst zu etwas Neuem führen wird. Neben allgemeinen Tratsch und kleinsten Rührseligkeiten, sind natürlich unsere letzten Reviews zu hören. PIGGY, THE MAN WHO LAUGHS, Stephen Kings FIRESTARTER (2022), DUELL – ENEMY AT THE GATES und H.P. Lovecrafts THE DUNWICH HORROR aka VOODOO CHILD werden durchleuchtet und besprochen. Schluss mit dem Lesen, beginnt zu Hören! Unsere Seite bleibt erhalten. Wir laden Euch dazu ein, uns neu bzw. auch überhaupt zu entdecken. Unsere Filmbesprechungen, Interviews und Specials bleiben kostenfrei erhalten. Spenden sind weiterhin erlaubt, um uns beim Aufbau eines neuen Formates zu unterstützen. Bis wir irgendwann aus unserem Grab entsteigen, werden wir aus dem Jenseits in Mediabook-Booklets erlesbar oder in Audiokommentaren zu hören sein. Alle neuen Infos, zu allem was es zu wissen gibt, werdet ihr auf unserer Website erfahren. Feiert mit uns das Ende. Wir danken Euch. We only live twice, for sure... or more.

Die 69. Show (der neuen Zeitrechnung) soll nun nach 10 Jahren Infotainment die letzte Folge von Deep Red Radio sein. Die Gründe haben wir bereits ausführlich in einer Stellungnahme erörtert und somit schließen wir mit Reviews und Talk um uns anschließend in eine Pause zu begeben, die dann einst zu etwas Neuem führen wird. Neben allgemeinen Tratsch und kleinsten Rührseligkeiten, sind natürlich unsere letzten Reviews zu hören. PIGGY, THE MAN WHO LAUGHS, Stephen Kings FIRESTARTER (2022), DUELL – ENEMY AT THE GATES und H.P. Lovecrafts THE DUNWICH HORROR aka VOODOO CHILD werden durchleuchtet und besprochen. Schluss mit dem Lesen, beginnt zu Hören! Unsere Seite bleibt erhalten. Wir laden Euch dazu ein, uns neu bzw. auch überhaupt zu entdecken. Unsere Filmbesprechungen, Interviews und Specials bleiben kostenfrei erhalten. Spenden sind weiterhin erlaubt, um uns beim Aufbau eines neuen Formates zu unterstützen. Bis wir irgendwann aus unserem Grab entsteigen, werden wir aus dem Jenseits in Mediabook-Booklets erlesbar oder in Audiokommentaren zu hören sein. Alle neuen Infos, zu allem was es zu wissen gibt, werdet ihr auf unserer Website erfahren. Feiert mit uns das Ende. Wir danken Euch. We only live twice, for sure... or more.

Wha skjer i denne episoden? Vi snakker om noe av det mest ikoniske lyden som har kommet ut av en forsterker gjennom tidene, nemlig wah-wah. Det man egentlig hører, er en eq som filtrerer opp og ned gjennom toppfrekvensene. Kjente gitarister som var tidlig ute med å benytte seg av wah-wah, var Eric Clapton på Cream-låta "Tales of Brave Ulysses" og kanskje enda mer ikonisk var Jimi Hendrix med låta Voodoo Child.

For the first time, we recorded a show at a brewery, Voodoo Child Brewing Company. Jake and Justin from Voodoo Child were our guest and we talked about how Voodoo Child became what they are now and what their goals are. We had few cold ones, and did you know Jake makes his own salsa? We also gave a shoutout to Voodoo's new brewer, Chuck the brew Wizard. Cheers. You can find Voodoo Child Brewery on IG @voodoochildbrewing Instagram @beerbellysociety Email beerbellysociety@gmail.com TikTok @beerbellysociety

What do you do when you actually GET the success you're looking for? How do you keep from losing your $H*T??? Most of us, when we first start to meet our goals, flip out, and immediately STOP doing the things that got us the success in the first place. This is wrong, and will stop you cold. This week's episode goes over how to handle the awesomeness without going nuts.

It's not possible to overstate the genius of Hendrix. In a career spanning a mere four years, he changed not only elitist musician culture, but the very way in which we play guitar. He embraced the hippy movement along with the Black Panthers, and brought love to the world at a time when the flower power movement was at its peak.

Adam revives the Jimi Hendrix classic!

Agent 01 plays Voodoo Child by Jimi Hendrix techno style!

How about the chops from Teena Marie to cap it off. Shnikeys. I did inspire myself by watching Arch Bishop Rick break it down real nice on the live sesh. Think it was the BET Awards that's not a questionable joke either, I believe that statement to be factual. If my memory serves, Andre 3000 was there in the audience with Jamie Foxx to appreciate it in real time. God bless. Anyways, I still feel weird about putting anything out, but my people would want me to go onward and do my best to entertain the people who actually click on this thing. So here I am serving up more game than an arcade on a Saturday evening. Nothing better for an aging bachelor to do besides scratch my hindquarters and edit this freaking sub-par piece of work. I enjoy degrading myself for the humorous factor, I think this episode actually slaps pretty hard aside from the train wreck at the end. I pretend nobody listens to these and it's just me entertaining myself like Jack Sparrow in Davy Jones locker. That's the only way I have the cajonas to actually try to sing. Plus an episode of The Ten Minute Podcast where they try to sing for real made me cringe and laugh so hard, it inspired me to do my version of the same. Like I've said before, the typing of these descriptions is my favorite part of this process, I've just blacked out at this point my fingers have been a blur idk where I even learned to type this fast. Return of the regular episodes start of next week sometime. Real loose schedule around here if you haven't noticed. Much love to the people that showed up to Halen's for the get together, we played beautiful live music for our friend. Halen shredded a 15 minute hot seat, when he wasn't able to feel anything below the neck, I took over we jammed Voodoo Child into a freestyle blaster from another cosmos. Carter and John on the hammers. Beautiful. Take care brush your hair. O'Malley for President.Capt. Kirk of this Ent.DJ Witwicky

Sumérgete con nosotros en Nueva Orleans y sus cientos de misterios y leyendas, un lugar donde se respira el Vudú en todos sus rincones y las 24 horas del día. Walter Saravia se arma de valor y viaja a la capital de la magia negra para contarnos parte de sus secretos, entre los lugares visitados, el hogar de la Reina del Vudú. Un asesino anda suelto con un hacha a ritmo de Jazz, Elena Gómez nos trae la increíble y terrorífica historia de un tipo que hizo temblar a toda una ciudad. Virginia Delgado desvela el génesis del mal en Nueva Orleans, una nueva demostración de gran sapiencia por parte de nuestra niña de la Cueva. La religión Vudú como tal, sus mitos, verdades y mentiras de la mano del Doctor Osorio. Marnofle vuelve a sacar la chistera con historias para no dormir, entre ellas el Voodoo Child o como Hendrix y otros músicos se hicieron inmortales gracias a los pactos con el diablo. Manolo del Pryca nos lleva de Ruta…¿Te atreves? Y desde Jamaica, el Monje Vidente nos visita para saludar a los casi 28.000 curiosos. En Cortos de Metraje “Sebastian’s Voodoo” (https://cortosdemetraje.com/sebastians-voodoo/) Martino sigue adiestrando ardillas mientras rima con la mejor prosa. Programa patrocinado por Alejandro Basalo. Gracias señor!!! Atentos al Premio “José Triguero” para el mejor comentario del mes de Julio, participa con puro ingenio. Apoya el tratamiento de nuestra curiosa Elena Gómez, firma en Change.org: https://www.change.org/p/ministerio-de-sanidad-si-me-quitas-el-tratamiento-para-la-ame-qu%C3%A9-futuro-tengo Hazte #Mecenas del Club para apoyar la lucha de los anormales por el mundo o bien haz una donación por #Bizum indicando tu nombre y la palabra anormal al 688 323 552 Merchandising del Club de los Curiosos: https://www.creandacosas.com/categoria-producto/curiosos/ Web del Glan Lidel: www.albertoenriquepons.es Compra el Libro Oficial del Club “Historias para Anormales”: https://www.amazon.es/dp/8409315343?fbclid=IwAR189XyUIcGvMjQg1C8M_cEgQMMMq-PIe9pOGtIpw-hX8w4Ob0PDfLpY5tQ También en EBook: https://www.amazon.es/dp/B09B2TXRZ8 Libro de Mark Knopfler Málaga 360: https://360malaga.es Libro de Elena Gómez “Eros y Thanatos”: https://www.amazon.es/EROS-THANATOS-13-ENTRE-L%C3%8DNEAS/dp/841204357X No dejes de dejar comentarios, todos serán leídos y respondidos en el próximo programa, se os quiere. Estamos en Twitch, Instagram, TikTok, Youtube, Facebook y Twitter. Nuestro Mail de Contacto: albertoenriquepons@gmail.com Twitch del Club de los Curiosos: https://www.twitch.tv/el_club_de_los_curiosos Youtube del Club de los Curiosos: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC6KgIO7QIVyYNY8LDbVvErA Facebook del Club de los Curiosos: https://www.facebook.com/elclubdeloscuriosos Instagram del Club de los Curiosos: https://www.instagram.com/elclubdeloscuriosos/?hl=es Tema Cierre: El Monje Vidente Tema Cabecera: Makuki No dejes de visitar el Canal de Youtube de nuestra Cristina Marley:https://youtube.com/c/CristinaMarley Ivoox de Narraciones de un Burro: https://www.ivoox.com/podcast-narraciones-burro_sq_f1507763_1.html Instagram Marta González Vallovera: https://www.instagram.com/artealday/?hl=es.Javier Si te gustan los animales visita www.airedelatoscana.com Escucha el episodio completo en la app de iVoox, o descubre todo el catálogo de iVoox Originals

La rola es canción, la canción es poesía; la poesía es un chorro chido que canta y que rola: Los roleros, un espacio de expresión libre, urbana y comprometida te espera cada viernes en punto de las 21:00 horas con Alberto Figueroa. Disfruta de la entrevista a Lev Radagan, banda de Berlín, que tiene integrantes mexicanos e interpreta algo de sonido Skateboard slide guitar, en la que hablan de su trayectoria musical; además, presentan su nuevo sencillo “Voodoo Child”.

We visited Voodoo Child Brewing Company and had a blast. All the beer was good, and we got to meet some cool people. Rob also talks about the dating scene and is asking for some dating advice from two married men. Hear us out. Instagram @beerbellysocietyTwitter @bigbelly619Email beerbellysociety@gmail.comTikTok @beerbellysociety

Stan Lewry joins Hangout with Sujata to run over music that summarises some of the personal paradoxes he has met on his way to becoming the person he is today. Stan is a technical leadership consultant who has led teams for Harrods Aviation, an Oscar winning animation company, a world leading dating site, a world leading digital advertising agency and since then advised Samsung, Microsoft, the UK NHS, AstraZeneca, Shell and Jacobs on technical leadership and communication. He draws together a wide range of managerial, technical and philosophical disciplines and his own grit and determination to help people make sense of chaos at a grand scale. In his spare time he likes to make weird noises with lasers and has shown two exhibits at London's Tate Modern Gallery. Playlist included: Voodoo Child by Jimi Hendrix Mathematics by Mod Def Ain't Got No, I Got Life by Nina Simone Titanium (feat. Sia) by David Guetta Apache by Danger Beach Somebody That I Used To Know (feat. Kimbra) by Gotye Crazy by Gnarls Barkley Another Love (Zwette Edit) by Tom Odell Falling In Love by Slavoj Žižek Dancing (Krono Remix) (feat. Luvli) by Aaron Smith Berris Fueller by Billy Marchiafava Enjoy!

Man/frau sollte sich nicht vom Titel-Wirrwarr in dieser Woche verunsichern lassen, denn Daniel und Patrick offerieren zwei ganz besonders delikate Exemplare abgründigen 70er-Jahre-Kinos auf ihrem Menüplan. Der Lovecraft-inspirierte Okkulthorror Voodoo Child (The Dunwich Horror, 1970) glänzt mit einem herzallerliebsten Ensemble, größtmöglicher Merkwürdigkeit und einem Ohrwurm-Score von Les Baxter. Und in Lucio Fulcis meisterhaftem Abgesang auf das Landleben Quäle nie ein Kind zum Scherz (Non si sevizia un paperino AKA Don't Torture a Duckling, 1972) blicken die Bahnhofskino-Lieblinge Barbara Bouchet und Tomás Milián dem Grauen des Katholizismus ins Gesicht.

This week Javito & Welly F. are joined by Tae to discuss everything in this world and beyond. Checkout the trios conversation about expectations, staying healthy, hardworking, self reflection, social media breaks, voodoo and more!

Welcome to episode 2 of Deep Diving with the Scallywags... This week we look at 2 Jimi Hendrix songs... The 1st is a live video performance of Voodoo Child... Its from Maui in 1970... Find it on YouTube! Also we listen to and talk about a newly released recording of the band working on a song called who knows... Its very raw and shows the band in its element just grooving and jamming... It's a snackable deep dive on an iconic Jimi performance and a new Jimi recording! One things for sure Jimi is missed and his music will live forever... 

Dre takes over the DJ booth and talks Jimi Hendrix's Voodoo Child (Slight Return) and Voodoo Chile. Lord Vader gives us some motivation as well. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/cratekeepers/message

Stood up next to a mountain. We couldn't reach the top with our hands. The Jimi Hendrix Experience - Voodoo Child (Slight Return) --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/jukebox-club/message

1. Once Upon a Time in the West Ennio Morricone 2. 夜雨（如梦令） Lucy 栾思远 根据传统客家筝曲《蕉窗夜雨》改编3. 在云端 常静群仙乐团 4. Moonbathing 尹健 5. Love Sick Zimmerman 6. Voodoo Child 金志文 7. 迷夏 王斐南 8. 性别 范忆堂 9. I Wanna Sex You Up Color Me Badd 10. Gender Really Slow Motion 11. Main Theme from Once Upon a Time in the West Yo-Yo Ma

1. Once Upon a Time in the West Ennio Morricone 2. 夜雨（如梦令） Lucy 栾思远 根据传统客家筝曲《蕉窗夜雨》改编3. 在云端 常静群仙乐团 4. Moonbathing 尹健 5. Love Sick Zimmerman 6. Voodoo Child 金志文 7. 迷夏 王斐南 8. 性别 范忆堂 9. I Wanna Sex You Up Color Me Badd 10. Gender Really Slow Motion 11. Main Theme from Once Upon a Time in the West Yo-Yo Ma

1. Once Upon a Time in the West Ennio Morricone 2. 夜雨（如梦令） Lucy 栾思远 根据传统客家筝曲《蕉窗夜雨》改编3. 在云端 常静群仙乐团 4. Moonbathing 尹健 5. Love Sick Zimmerman 6. Voodoo Child 金志文 7. 迷夏 王斐南 8. 性别 范忆堂 9. I Wanna Sex You Up Color Me Badd 10. Gender Really Slow Motion 11. Main Theme from Once Upon a Time in the West Yo-Yo Ma

Bla.Ze discusses the 21st anniversary of the release of D'Angelo's "Voodoo" album, as well as it's spiritual significance.Click here to watch the video for Jungle ft. VINNYKR3W: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1RUlbxDy7IoFollow The Left Hand Perspective on Instagram @thelefthandperspectiveFollow Bla.Ze Bey @occultcomic33Have something you would like to promote on the show? Any topics you would like to hear discussed? Send a DM on instagram or send an email to lefthandperspective1@gmail.com Support the show

Welcome to Rated OZ Radio starring Mary Lou Munroe Rey   On this episode, you'll enjoy hearing Mary Lou interview Lachy Doley!   Lachy Doley on Whammy Clavinet and Vocals Joel Burton on Bass Jackie Barnes on Drums https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1IINu-Ug4Go Jimi Hendrix tune VOODOO CHILD like you've never seen before. Performed on Lachy Doley's extremely rare Whammy Clavinet. Absolute ROCKIN version ! Please Subscribe to his website here if you like it!! ► FREE ALBUM DOWNLOAD - https://lachydoley.com/freelp Regarded as one of the world's greatest Blues Hammond/Keyboard players performing at prestige festivals around the world such as Montreal Jazz (Canada), Bospop (Netherlands), Peer Blues (Belgium), Bejar Blues (Spain), Blues on Broadbeach (Australia), Mt Tremblant (Canada) and more ● Official Tickets ● https://lachydoley.com/shows ● Official Social Links ● https://www.facebook.com/lachydoley https://twitter.com/lachydoley https://instagram.com/lachydoley ● Official Merchandise (CD/Vinyl) ● https://lachydoley.bandcamp.com/merch ● Official Merchandise (Other) ● https://lachy-doley-store.myshopify.com/ ● Official $1 Supporter Group ● https://www.facebook.com/becomesuppor...

The story of the comic book Nicolas Cage conceived of with his son Weston Cage.  Through the eyes of Weston Cage and writer Mike Carey. 

This week Jimmy Diresta, Bob Clagett and David Picciuto talk about using (or not using) social media for promotion. What We’re Working On Jimmy Diresta: Went to Louisville Maker Faire, shot video with Brad Leone David Picciuto: Bought a go-kart Bob Clagett: Went to Louisville Maker Faire   What we’re watching: David’s Pick of the Week: Make.Art.Now Bob’s Pick of the Week: Building an A Frame Cabin from scratch & Voodoo Child by Luna Jimmy’s Pick of the Week: Clickspring Playing card press