Podcasts about Wit

Soms is Afrika, ondanks enorme afstanden, nog steeds heel dichtbij. Zo speelt de Afrikaanse afkomst en daarmee de cultuur ook op Sint Eustatius nog steeds een grote rol en herontdekken inwoners van dit Caraïbische eiland hun Afrikaanse achtergrond. In deze aflevering duikt Jos Hummelen met Fi de Wit in de geschiedenis van Sint Eustatius, de rol van vrouwen en de fascinerende blauwe kralen die nog overal op het eiland gevonden kunnen worden.Volg onze LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/showcase/africastpodcast?originalSubdomain=nlVoor mooie beelden, quizjes en 'behind the scenes', volg onze Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/africast_podcast/Link met Jos of Joeri via LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/jos-hummelen/ & https://www.linkedin.com/in/joerinortier/

Aston Villa U19 2-2 AZ Alkmaar U19UEFA Youth League Third Round, First LegVenue: Bodymoor HeathDate: Wednesday afternoon Aston Villa U19s and AZ Alkmaar U19s played out a thrilling 2-2 draw in the first leg of their UEFA Youth League third-round clash, leaving the tie finely poised ahead of the second leg in Alkmaar on Tuesday, December 9. Jimmy Shan's Young Lions twice took the lead through Rory Wilson and Bradley Burrowes, but AZ responded each time with goals from Tycho de Wit and Hessel de Wit, snatching a late equalizer in the 87th minute.Shan made four changes to the side that defeated KF Skënderbeu in the previous round, bringing in Burrowes and Calum Moreland at full-back, along with Kadan Young and Ben Broggio in attack alongside Jamaldeen Jimoh-Aloba and Wilson.The match began cautiously, with AZ enjoying more possession and creating early chances. Bendegúz Kovács, who scored four goals in the last round against Lincoln Red Imps, fired over from distance, while Bohdan Budko tested Villa goalkeeper Owen Asemota with a stinging drive.Villa broke the deadlock in the 20th minute. Captain Aidan Borland kept an attack alive, finding Jimoh-Aloba whose shot was saved by Nick Homan, allowing Wilson to turn home the rebound—his fifth goal of the competition.AZ leveled seven minutes later when Kovács capitalized on a loose backpass, rounding Asemota and squaring for Tycho de Wit to steer into an empty net, ensuring the sides went into half-time tied.Villa started the second half strongly and regained the lead in the 56th minute. Wilson turned his defender on Young's pass and poked a shot that Homan parried, with Burrowes burying the rebound.The hosts pushed for a third, with Jimoh-Aloba and Borland testing Homan, but AZ rallied. Budko forced another save from Asemota before Hessel de Wit struck a superb first-time effort into the top corner from the edge of the box after Villa surrendered possession deep in their half.Despite Villa's late push in four minutes of added time, no winner emerged, setting up a decisive return leg in the Netherlands as the Villans aim to reach the knockout stages for the second consecutive season.Post-match, Shan expressed mixed emotions, saying: “We're obviously disappointed with the result. I thought the performance warranted a win.” He lamented gifting two goals, taking responsibility for the second due to game management, while praising AZ's individuals and patterns. Shan highlighted Villa's tactical adaptability, outstanding possession play, and chance creation, but noted a lack of ruthlessness in the final third.Looking ahead, with a Birmingham Senior Cup opener against Coventry Sphinx in between, Shan added: “Plenty more work... it gives you an opportunity to reflect and tidy things up and look at where we can do things better – both in and out of possession. It gives us an opportunity with a game in between to continue that momentum, that rhythm.” Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

In this episode of What's Next, we sit down with Cliff de Wit, Group Chief Innovation Officer at Accelera Digital Group, to unpack the rapid acceleration of AI and the growing readiness gap facing modern organisations. Cliff reflects on his journey from Microsoft to leading large-scale technology initiatives and now helping businesses across Africa and beyond adapt to a world where AI is reshaping every role, workflow and industry. He explains why many companies struggle to adopt AI effectively, how fear and poor change management hold teams back, and why both users and creators of AI must develop new capabilities quickly. Cliff also breaks down how Accelera Digital Group helps organisations bridge this gap—starting with identifying high-impact problems, modernising data foundations, and then building practical AI solutions that drive measurable value. This conversation is a must-watch for leaders preparing their businesses for the next era of intelligent technology.

Het is woensdag 26 november! Tina heeft het laatste medianieuws en de kijkcijfers. Ze begint over de bezuinigingen bij de NPO. Welke programma's verdwijnen er en hoe erg is dat? De STER komt kort na Sinterklaas met een speciaal kerstreclameblok én zappen mensen speciaal voor Pauw & de Wit naar NPO1?

Waardeer je onze video's? Steun dan Café Weltschmerz, het podium voor het vrije woord: https://www.cafeweltschmerz.nl/doneren/Wij gingen voor onze podcastserie in gesprek met journalist Daan de Wit over red light therapy, kundalini energie, het ideale huis en over Daan zelf natuurlijk.Daan de Wit is een Nederlandse onderzoeksjournalist en auteur die diep graaft in geopolitiek, media en verborgen machtsstructuren om de waarheid achter de schermen bloot te leggen.Hij is daarom een veel geziene gast bij programma's als Lighthouse TV en Blckbx. Ook was hij te zien bij Vibestalk van Tim Douwsma en ging hij in gesprek met Marlies Dekkers bij De Nieuwe Wereld.Ondanks dat we Daan al diverse keren gesproken hadden, bleef er toch iets mysterieus' aan deze man. Tijdens dit gesprek hadden wij allebei het gevoel dat wij de ‘echte' Daan hebben leren kennen en ontdekten een kant van hem die wij nog niet kenden. Wij zijn benieuwd of jij dat ook zo ervaart.Door de jaren heen schreef Daan verschillende boeken over gezondheid, zoals 'De Cholesterolmythe', 'Weet wat je Eet' en 'Prikken Ja of Nee'. Ook schreef hij het boek 'De volgende oorlog' over de voorbereidingen van de oorlog op Iran.Een veelzijdig man dus. Wat resulteerde in een boeiend gesprek over gezondheid, zijn persoonlijke leven, kundalini, rood licht en het ideale huis.---Deze video is geproduceerd door Café Weltschmerz. Café Weltschmerz gelooft in de kracht van het gesprek en zendt interviews uit over actuele maatschappelijke thema's. Wij bieden een hoogwaardig alternatief voor de mainstream media. Café Weltschmerz is onafhankelijk en niet verbonden aan politieke, religieuze of commerciële partijen.Wil je meer video's bekijken en op de hoogte blijven via onze nieuwsbrief? Ga dan naar: https://www.cafeweltschmerz.nl/videos/Wil je op de hoogte worden gebracht van onze nieuwe video's? Klik dan op deze link: https://bit.ly/3XweTO0

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

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

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

Brooke and Tyler peel back the layers of the Cosmere's mystery man and discuss Hoid's contributions during Wind and Truth. We look at the small character moments, speculate on what it means to use multiple types of investiture, and wonder what the reality-bending final moments mean for Roshar's Wit. #AllSpoilers Support this podcast by becoming a Patron on Patreon (https://www.patreon.com/CosmereConversations) Original music by David Gruwier (https://twitter.com/DGruwier). "Radiant" (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A5CFAZUv4C0) by David Gruwier.

Annemieke Bosman in gesprek met Rebekka de Wit, schrijver en theatermaker. Samen met Anoek Nuyens maakte De Wit de veel geprezen voorstelling De zaak Shell. Nu toert Rebekka de Wit met de voorstelling Een stukje naar de mensen toe van Bureau Vergezicht. In deze nieuwe solo zet Rebekka de Wit op even geestige als tragische wijze uiteen waarom het haar niet lukt een gemeenschap te vormen met de mensen om zich heen. Uitgerekend in het theater, de enige plek op aarde waar nog geen scherm met reclame hangt, waar de telefoon nog op vliegtuigstand moet, spreekt Rebekka een hartig woordje met het publiek en met zichzelf over hoe we gaan voorkomen dat we straks allemaal alleen in onze keldertjes zitten - met een pistool in de ene hand en een voordeelpak wc-rollen in de andere. Tegelijkertijd is de voorstelling ook een oprechte poging dit wel te proberen. Iets van gemeenschap. 

    Slam The Gavel welcomes back Attorney Brendan Burns and Theo Chino to the podcast. Attorney Burns was last on Season 6, Episode 317.     Mr. Theo Chino, Attorney Burns and myself discussed what it is to be grateful for during the Thanksgiving holiday peppered with sarcasm, humor and wit. We have a lot to be thankful for, as we have met each other through others who are suffering the horrors of the same system. We have met so many wonderful people with the same issues. Brought to light are the judges, attorneys and GAL's that made our humor possible. To Reach Attorney Burns: brendanlaw1@hotmail.comTo Reach Theo Chino: theo@alliedra.comSupportshow(https://www.buymeacoffee.com/maryannpetri)Maryann Petri: dismantlingfamilycourtcorruption.comhttps://www.tiktok.com/@maryannpetriFacebook:  https://www.youtube.com/@slamthegavelpodcasthostmar5536Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/guitarpeace/Pinterest: Slam The Gavel Podcast/@guitarpeaceLinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/maryann-petri-62a46b1ab/  YouTube:  https://www.youtube.com/@slamthegavelpodcasthostmar5536  Twitter https://x.com/PetriMaryannEzlegalsuit.com   https://ko-fi.com/maryannpetrihttps://www.zazzle.com/store/slam_the_gavel/about*DISCLAIMER* The use of this information is at the viewer/user's own risk. For information only and no affiliation with legislation, bills or laws. Not financial, medical nor legal advice as the content on this podcast does not constitute legal, financial, medical or any other professional advice. Viewer/user's should consult with the relevant professionals. Reproduction, distribution, performing, publicly displaying and making a derivative of the work is explicitly prohibited without permission from content creator. Podcast is protected by owner. The content creator maintains the exclusive right and any unauthorized copyright.Support the showSupportshow(https://www.buymeacoffee.com/maryannpetri)http://www.dismantlingfamilycourtcorruption.com/

In the conclusion to their Mike Nichols miniseries, Phil and Emily welcome Joe Reid (Vulture, This Had Oscar Buzz) to unpack Angels in America: Part Two Perestroika.The trio dives deep into how Nichols translated Tony Kushner's monumental stage play into one of HBO's most ambitious miniseries exploring its themes of prophecy, identity, queer resilience, and the intersection of politics and spirituality in 1980s America. They discuss the legacy of Angels as both a masterpiece of television and a cultural turning point for the medium itself, its sweeping performances from Meryl Streep, Al Pacino, and Mary-Louise Parker, and how Nichols closed out his career redefining prestige TV.This episode caps a thoughtful look back at Nichols' 2000s work, from Wit to Angels in America, examining how he brought cinematic intimacy to television storytelling. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Louise Beernink en Sjoerd de Wit van het Nijmeegse Canisius College gaan in gesprek over zij-instromers. Waarom willen zij second-career teachers en waarop let je bij de eerste kennismaking? Wat geeft vertrouwen? Wat kan (moet) de school doen om de zij-instromer te laten groeien? En waarom zouden mensen de overstap eigenlijk moeten maken?

On Lit with Charles, we usually dive into novels, short stories, and poetry - but in this episode, we're doing something a little radical. From the longest literary forms to one of the shortest: the aphorism.An aphorism is a short, striking statement - often just a line or two - that captures a deep universal truth. It's a form beloved by some of history's greatest minds: Oscar Wilde, Mark Twain, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and Friedrich Nietzsche, to name a few.Today's guest, James Geary, is an American writer and lifelong devotee of this deceptively simple art. From his early fascination with language to his career as an editor at Time magazine and later as a lecturer at Harvard, James has explored the timeless power of the aphorism - those brief sentences that linger far longer than they last. His works include The World in a Phrase: A Brief History of the Aphorism and Wit's End: What Wit Is, How It Works, and Why We Need It.We talk about what makes an aphorism work, why brevity can sometimes reveal more than verbosity, and how these tiny truths continue to shape how we think and write.I loved this conversation - it's a thoughtful, witty, and illuminating dive into the distilled essence of language. I hope you enjoy it too.If you enjoyed this episode, please consider leaving a review — it really helps others discover the podcast. You can also follow me on Instagram @litwithcharles for more book recommendations and literary discussions.Let's get more people listening — and reading!James Geary's four books were:Reader's DigestWalden, Henry David Thoreau (1854)I Ching (c. 1000 – 750 BCE)Ulysses, James Joyce (1920)

More and more women are entering the trucking industry, but remain underrepresented. They account for only about 10% of truck drivers and 4% in technician roles. In this Talking Transports podcast, Jennifer Hedrick, president and CEO of the Women in Trucking Association (WIT), joins Lee Klaskow, Bloomberg Intelligence senior transportation and logistics analyst, to discuss what the organization is doing to attract more women into the trucking industry, from the driver’s seat to the C-suite. Access to safe parking and more focused gender amenities would go a long way toward making over-the-road truckling more appealing for women, she says. Hedrick also discusses the association’s work in Washington, DC; members’ outlooks on trucking; outreach programs; and even style advice, suggesting I should rock a red tuxedo at WIT’s upcoming Accelerate Conference.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Apologies for the delay but John was up late watching the Blue Jays game because he is an idiot!!! No idiots on J! this week though, as we watch two very good champions dominate the proceedings over the course of a great 5 days of J! including an EPIC game. Plus, Emily gets fooled by a JFAF headline, we get a Response of the Year candidate from Tom, and we dive deep on the Algonquin Round Table. Want to be part of a brilliant and progressive club yourself? Join our Patreon! For just $5/month at patreon.com/jeopardypodcast, you get all of our bonus episodes (including a new one every month), access to our Discord, and more fun stuff! This week, John is back for some training as our friend Joel gives John a movie board to help him out and our friend Josh Gondelman comes along for the ride. You won't wanna miss it! SOURCE: New York Times: "The Algonquin at 75" by Arnold W. Erhlich; "Wit at the Round Table: Was It, Er, Um, Square?" by William Grimes Special thank you as always to The Jeopardy! Fan and J-Archive. This episode was produced by Producer Dan. Art by Max Wittert. Music by Nate Heller.

Ook het panel van de AD Media Podcast keek met verbijstering naar de rechtszaak tegen Marco Borsato. Vooral de ‘giftige sfeer’ in het gezin waar de zanger jarenlang onderdeel van uitmaakte, wekt afschuw. Angela de Jong: ‘Als je weet dat er een jong meisje naakt op bed ligt, ga je niet naar die slaapkamer toe.’ Borsato is uiteraard hét gesprek van de dag, maar er gebeurde meer in medialand. De afgelopen dagen vlogen op tv de politieke statements je om de oren. De panelleden vellen vooral een oordeel over de vorm en de presentatie van al die debatten. De kritiek op Wilfred Genee baart in elk geval opzien. Mediaverslaggever Gudo Tienhooven durft hem zelfs uit te roepen tot de beste debatleider tot nu toe. En hoe doen Jeroen Pauw en Tim de Wit het momenteel eigenlijk als gelegenheidsduo? Bij de publieke omroep is het weer eens oorlog, ditmaal over de manier waarop de monsterbezuiniging van 160 miljoen euro moet worden doorgevoerd. NPO 2 gaat overdag kinderprogramma’s uitzenden, NPO 3 wordt een sport- en evenementenzender. Dit plan ligt vooral gevoelig bij de ‘kleine’ omroepen Wat is er precies aan de hand? Ook over tafel in deze aflevering: Lucky TV wordt Lucky Radio en Eva Jinek zorgde met haar interview met Suzan en Freek voor dikke lagen kippenvel. Manuel Venderbos spreekt al van het beste interview van het jaar. Of moeten we vooral Suzan en Freek zelf prijzen om hun openhartigheid? Luisteren dus! Naar de wekelijkse AD Media Podcast, waarin columnist Angela de Jong en mediaverslaggevers Gudo Tienhooven en Dennis Jansen alle hoofd-, rand-, en bijzaken bespreken op het gebied van media. De presentatie is in handen van Manuel Venderbos. Gebruik je liever je favoriete podcastsapps via Spotify of Apple? Dat kan! Vind alle onze podcasts op ad.nl/podcasts.Support the show: https://krant.nl/See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Twitch streamer and fellow Hyrule Gaming Group member Byuka returns to the podcast as we talk about the world wide release of the Umamusume: Pretty Derby game. After nearly a year and a half, Byuka comes back to the podcast as we talk about an app/game that has taken over our lives. Japanese horse girl racing game, Umamusume: Pretty Derby, released world wide earlier this year. A game that has been in Asia for several years, Umamusume providers the player a chance to train and race their favorite horse girl over the course of a 3 year period. What will you train? Speed? Wit? Will you give them recreation time? How often will you let them rest? And what skills will your horsegirl obtain in the course of their career? It's highly deep in strategy, frustrating with the RNG at times, and has deep lore for each character - and each character being based on a real horse that exists (or existed). We go over a lot of what we love about the game, the lore and history, how we play, plus tips and tricks! Go check out Umamusume: Pretty Derby, and send me your trainer code so we can be friends! Check out this website for game information! https://gametora.com/umamusume/training-event-helper You can find Byuka at: https://www.twitch.tv/byuka You can listen to Byuka's previous episode at: https://talesfromthefandom.libsyn.com/episode-366-byuka-talks-final-fantasy-world-building-video-games-twich-streaming-and-vtubing

Technical difficulties be damned, nothing can stop Joe from talking about Steve Wang's stylistic action spectaluar Drive from 1997. With Graham on his own adventure, Wit and Zac swing on by to chat about Brittany Murphy, Hong Kong influences, friendship in films, and of course, cyborgs. Will Mark Dacascos win over their hearts or will they be as cold and mechanical as the advanced model? Throw some boots on your hands and tune in to find out!

Hurdle-isms: Wit and Wisdom from a Lifetime in Baseball… GUEST Clint Hurdle … former Pirate manager, and MLB player and coach … was named Sporting News National Manager of the Year along with the Baseball Writers Association National League Manager of the Year … continues to be a significant presence in the world of baseball. Sometimes we see what we dream for … GUEST Amy Julia Becker … helps people reimagine the good life through her writing and speaking on disability, faith, and culture at amyjuliabecker.com …author of “To Be Made Well,” “White Picket Fences,” “Small Talk,” and “A Good and Perfect Gift” … guest opinion writer for national publications and hosts the Reimagining the Good Life podcast.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

De cryptomarkt lijkt maar niet te herstellen van de harde klap die twee weken geleden viel. De koers van Bitcoin schommelt rond de 110.000 dollar en hoewel er vanochtend een kleine opleving te zien is, blijft de algehele trend broos. Altcoins doen het nog slechter, met verliezen tussen de vijf en tien procent. Daarmee groeit de vrees dat de stijgende trend van de afgelopen twee jaar zijn kracht begint te verliezen. In Europa laat Rusland zich ondertussen van een andere kant zien. Volgens nieuw onderzoek van Chainalysis is het land veruit koploper in het gebruik van cryptovaluta op het continent. In totaal werd er het afgelopen jaar voor bijna 400 miljard dollar aan waarde in crypto ontvangen. Daarna volgen het Verenigd Koninkrijk, Duitsland, Oekraïne, Frankrijk en Nederland. Opvallend is dat de interesse in crypto niet afneemt naarmate markten volwassener worden. Dat wijst erop dat er nog altijd veel groeipotentieel is in Europa. Een belangrijke rol in die ontwikkeling speelt de nieuwe Europese cryptowet, MICAR. Het is het eerste gezamenlijke regelgevend kader ter wereld voor digitale activa. Chainalysis merkt daarbij op dat de uitvoering per lidstaat verschilt, wat in de praktijk voor onduidelijkheid zorgt. Toch geldt MICAR als een stap vooruit, omdat het de cryptosector in Europa meer legitimiteit geeft en de deur opent voor institutionele beleggers en bedrijven die zich eerder afzijdig hielden. Ook stablecoins op basis van de euro winnen terrein. Tot nu toe domineren de op de dollar gebaseerde munten de markt, met Tether als koploper en inmiddels 180 miljard dollar aan reserves. Omdat Tether niet aan de Europese MICAR-regels voldoet, ligt daar ruimte voor eurostablecoins. De handel daarin groeide het afgelopen jaar met 2700 procent, al gaat dat nog steeds om relatief kleine bedragen. In totaal staan nu 25 verschillende stablecoins onder toezicht binnen de Europese regelgeving. Tot slot komt uit de Verenigde Staten het nieuws dat warenhuisketen Bealls betalingen in crypto gaat toestaan. Klanten kunnen voortaan afrekenen met Bitcoin, Ethereum en Tether. Bealls werkt daarvoor samen met betaalverwerker Flexa. Met 660 vestigingen is het een opvallende stap, al blijft de vraag of consumenten hun crypto daadwerkelijk gaan gebruiken aan de kassa. Deze week in de CryptocastEen gesprek met lightning-ontwikkelaar Jesse de Wit, actief bij Breez. Met Jesse spreken we over de laatste ontwikkelingen die Bitcoin écht moeten gaan omvormen tot bruikbaar betaalmiddel, want ondanks alle innovatie van de laatste jaren neemt die functie nog geen vlucht. Co-host is Raoul Esseboom.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Het Lightning Network is bezig aan een nieuwe fase van volwassenheid. In deze aflevering gaat het over de technische en maatschappelijke kant van deze ontwikkeling. Bitcoin wordt vaak gezien als waardeopslag, maar hoe staat het ervoor als betaalmiddel? De basisinfrastructuur werkt inmiddels betrouwbaar en snel, maar achter de schermen is niet alles rustig. Binnen de Bitcoin-gemeenschap speelt een felle discussie tussen verschillende groepen ontwikkelaars over de koers van het netwerk. De onenigheid, onder meer over het gebruik van bepaalde functies in de code, laat zien hoe fragiel samenwerking in open source-ontwikkeling kan zijn, maar hoort ook bij de manier waarop Bitcoin evolueert. Te gast is Jesse de Wit, lightning-ontwikkelaar bij Breez. Tegelijkertijd komt het Lightning Network zelf verder tot bloei. Sinds begin 2023 zijn er grote stappen gezet in stabiliteit en adoptie. De technologie wordt inmiddels beschouwd als de standaard voor betalingen met bitcoin. Er zijn professionele partijen actief geworden die de infrastructuur verder uitbouwen en voor meer gebruiksgemak zorgen. Toch is het netwerk nog niet overal even toegankelijk: wallets verschillen sterk in kwaliteit en het gebruiksgemak laat nog ruimte voor verbetering. Ook is de concurrentie van andere vormen van digitale betaling voelbaar. Stablecoins en tokenized dollars winnen terrein, vooral omdat ze aansluiten bij bestaande gewoontes in het betalingsverkeer. Dat roept de vraag op welke rol bitcoin als betaalmiddel op termijn kan spelen naast deze alternatieven. Een belangrijk deel van het gesprek gaat over de technische innovaties die het gebruik van Lightning eenvoudiger moeten maken. Daarbij komt onder meer een nieuw ontwikkelplatform aan bod waarmee toepassingen kunnen worden gebouwd die direct met het netwerk zijn verbonden. Dat moet het voor bedrijven makkelijker maken om Lightning-betalingen te integreren zonder zelf de volledige infrastructuur te beheren. Er wordt ook gekeken naar de mogelijkheden voor betaaloplossingen in winkels, zoals kassasystemen die automatisch verbinding maken met het netwerk. Ten slotte gaat het over de toekomst van schaalbaarheid. Wat gebeurt er als Lightning op grote schaal gebruikt gaat worden, bijvoorbeeld op evenementen met tienduizenden bezoekers? De technologie is er klaar voor, maar de uitdaging ligt in adoptie en gebruiksgemak. Want pas als gebruikers nauwelijks meer merken dat ze met bitcoin betalen, kan het netwerk zijn belofte echt waarmaken. Co-host is Raoul Esseboom. Gasten Jesse de Wit Raoul Esseboom Links Meedoen aan de hackathon van Breez? Host Daniël Mol Redactie Daniël MolSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

The POWER Of Charisma, Charm and Wit

In theatervoorstelling ‘Een stukje naar de mensen toe' onderzoekt Rebekka de Wit wat er overblijft van verbinding in een wereld vol prikkels en consumptie. Met humor en zelfspot kijkt De Wit naar haar eigen gedrag, van gedachteloos scrollen tot het najagen van gemak, en vraagt ze zich af wat we verliezen als we ons steeds verder terugtrekken in onze digitale bubbels. ‘Een stukje naar de mensen toe' laat zien hoe we verlangen naar oneindige consumptie en er tegelijk aan ten onder gaan. Rebekka de Wit is schrijver en theatermaker. Ze schrijft columns voor De Groene Amsterdammer en De Standaard in België. Presentatie: Frénk van der Linden

Phil and Emily continue their deep-dive into Mike Nichols' work from the 2000s with Wit , the acclaimed HBO adaptation of Margaret Edson's Pulitzer Prize–winning play. Joined by writer and producer Eliza Clark (Y: The Last Man, Animal Kingdom), they explore how Nichols recalibrated his directorial voice after What Planet Are You From? with this intimate, emotionally devastating story of a scholar facing terminal illness.The conversation digs into the film's powerful performances led by Emma Thompson and the delicate balance Nichols strikes between theatricality and cinematic storytelling. Together, they unpack Wit's themes of mortality, intellect, vulnerability, and humanity, while tracing how this project set the stage for his monumental follow-up, Angels in America.If you want access to full video episodes, exclusive bonus content, and more conversations like this one, head over to our Patreon and join the community today. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

โค้งสุดท้ายงานหนังสือ ชาวตึกบันลือและเพื่อนๆ สำนักพิมพ์ต่างก็ไปออกบูทกันถ้วนหน้า วันนี้ยช ธัญ โจ้บองโก้ ชมพู เลยมาเม้าท์มอยหอยกาบงานหนังสือและข่าวอื่นๆ ทั้งที่เกี่ยวข้องและไม่เกี่ยวข้องกัน อีพีนี้พบกับ ท่านซีอีโอ เน-ณรัณ วิ่งเช้ากับหุ้นส่วนยชญ์ บรรพพงศ์ เรื่องเอา Humor Sapiens เข้าตลาดหุ้น (ไม่จริง) / ข่าวสารวงการหมอตังค์ เมื่อการเดบิวต์คาแรกเตอร์ใหม่ในแอปฟ้าเป็นที่สนุกกว่าที่คิด / Wit's Happen เกิดแต่กับเฮีย หนังสือเล่มใหม่ของเฮียวิทย์​ สิทธิเวคิน กับขายหัวเราะ Studio /  It's Florida Man เมื่อ HBO Max ทำสารคดีแนวคดีเด็ด เกี่ยวกับชาวฟลอริดาที่ทุกคนน่าจะเคยได้ยิน / บรรยากาศงานสัปดาห์หนังสือสัปดาห์แรก และงาน Wongs Talk ที่ The BASE Wongsawang / อาการติดเกมของโจ้ ยช และธัญ / และเรื่องอื่นๆ อีกมาก #SalmonLab #SalmonHouse #SalmonPodcast  #UntitledCase #UntitledCaseTraceTalk #ยชธัญ #UCTraceTalk #TraceTalk ---- ติดต่อโฆษณาได้ที่ podcast.salmon@gmail.com Follow Untitled Case on Instagram Salmon Podcast https://www.instagram.com/salmon_podcast/ ยช https://www.instagram.com/yodddddddd/ ธัญ https://www.instagram.com/thann401/ โจ้ https://www.instagram.com/jorborgor/ มาร่วมจอยคอมมูนิตี้ลึกลับของชาว UC ได้ที่กลุ่ม Untitled Club by Untitled Case https://www.facebook.com/groups/289112405610043 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Christo de Wit, hoof van Luno Suid-Afrika, gesels oor sy agtergrond, loopbaan, die bedryf waarin hy is, en wat hy doen om te ontspan. Volg RSG Geldsake op Twitter

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XIwEc64h-BE 0:00 เริ่ม ทักทาย พูดถึงความประทับใจงาน WiT meet ที่จบไป 15:10 เล่าเรื่องเคยเจอคุณ Jane Goodall 20:47 กลับมาเล่าเรื่องแฟนมีตต่อ รีแคปเรื่องตราปั๊มพ์ เพลง และพิธีกรรมเปิดงาน 33:03 เพลงบูชาเทพ เอนุสซู 44:05 ลิสต์รางวัล Ig Nobel 2025 สาขาต่างๆ 1:09:01 เล่ารายละเอียด กิ้งก่ากินพิซซ่า 1:19:17 คุยยาวเรื่อง narcissist 1:59:39 ชั้นรองเท้าดับกลิ่น 2:05:19 อาบันเสริมเรื่อง narcissist ต่ออีกหน่อย 2:17:08 unbox อวดผลงานชาวเบร้อ art toy ธีมแมลงโดนเชื้อราซอมบี้จากอวกาศ ซีรีส์ Bug Light Year โดย @vectorfigure 2:25:51 ค้างคาวเมา 2:41:49 วัวลาย เหลือบไม่ชอบตอม 2:51:49 แม่นมกระเทียม 3:12:35 ประชาสัมพันธ์ และบอกลาผู้ฟัง https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UiGLm7_-la4 รางวัลสาขา โภชนาการ มอบให้ Daniele Dendi และคณะ กับผลงานศึกษาว่า กิ้งก่าชนิดเจาะจงชนิดหนึ่ง มีความชอบกินพิซซ่าแต่ละหน้าแตกต่างกันมากน้อยแค่ไหน REFERENCE: “Opportunistic Foraging Strategy of Rainbow Lizards at a Seaside Resort in Togo,” Daniele Dendi, Gabriel H. Segniagbeto, Roger Meek, and Luca Luiselli, African Journal of Ecology, vol. 61, no. 1, 2023, pp. 226-227. เกร็ดเสริมเรื่องกิ้งก่าขี้ไม่ออก https://www.livescience.com/constipated-lizard-record-breaking-poo.html รางวัลสาขา จิตวิทยา มอบให้ Marcin Zajenkowski และ Gilles Gignac กับผลงานศึกษาว่าเกิดอะไรขึ้น เมื่อคุณบอกคนที่เป็นนาร์ซิซิสต์ หรือใครก็ตาม ว่าเขานั้นฉลาดกว่าคนอื่น REFERENCE: “Telling People They Are Intelligent Correlates with the Feeling of Narcissistic Uniqueness: The Influence of IQ Feedback on Temporary State Narcissism,” Marcin Zajenkowski and Gilles E. Gignac, Intelligence, vol. 89, November–December 2021, 101595. รางวัลสาขา การออกแบบทางวิศวกรรม มอบให้ Vikash Kumar และ Sarthak Mittal ผู้ทำการวิเคราะห์จากมุมมองของการออกแบบเชิงวิศวกรรมว่า รองเท้าที่เหม็นโฉ่วนั้นส่งผลลบต่อประสบการณ์ที่ดีในการใช้ชั้นรองเท้า REFERENCE: “Smelly Shoes — An Opportunity for Shoe Rack Re-Design,” Vikash Kumar and Sarthak Mittal, Ergonomics for Improved Productivity: Proceedings of HWWE 2017, vol. 2, pp. 287-293. Springer Singapore, 2022. ผลงานชาวเบร้อ Art toy ธีมแมลงกับเชื้อราซอมบี้ต่างดาว โดย https://www.instagram.com/vectorfigure รางวัลสาขา การบิน มอบให้ Francisco Sánchez และคณะ สำหรับการศึกษาที่ค้นพบว่า การบริโภคแอลกอฮอลสามารถลดสมรรถนะการบินของค้างคาว ตลอดจนขัดขวางทักษะการใช้เสียงสะท้อนนำร่อง REFERENCE: “Ethanol Ingestion Affects Flight Performance and Echolocation in Egyptian Fruit Bats,” Francisco Sánchez, Mariana Melcón, Carmi Korine, and Berry Pinshow, Behavioural Processes, vol. 84, no. 2, 2010, pp. 555-558. แถมเรื่องค้าวคาวลึงค์ใหญ่ รางวัลสาขา ชีววิทยา มอบให้กับ Tomoki Kojima และคณะ กับผลงานวิจัยที่ทดสอบว่า วัวซึ่งถูกทาสีเป็นลายม้าลาย จะโดนเหลือบกัดน้อยลงหรือไม่ REFERENCE: “Cows Painted with Zebra-Like Striping Can Avoid Biting Fly Attack,” Tomoki Kojima, Kazato Oishi, Yasushi Matsubara, Yuki Uchiyama, Yoshihiko Fukushima, Naoto Aoki, Say Sato, Tatsuaki Masuda, Junichi Ueda, Hiroyuki Hirooka, and Katsutoshi Kino, PLoS ONE, vol. 14, no. 10, 2019, e0223447. รางวัลสาขา กุมารเวช มอบให้ Julie Mennella และ Gary Beauchamp สำหรับงานวิจัยประสบการณ์ของเด็กทารกเมื่อแม่กินกระเทียมแล้วมาให้นม REFERENCE: “Maternal Diet Alters the Sensory Qualities of Human Milk and the Nursling's Behavior,” Julie A. Mennella and Gary K. Beauchamp, Pediatrics, vol. 88, no. 4, 1991, pp. 737-744. รวม podcast ที่เล่า Ig Nobel ปีนี้ หรือสัมภาษณ์นักวิจัยที่ได้รางวัล Stuff to Blow Your Mind 632 nm podcast

This week, the crew sits down with Jeff Wright of Oklahoma Foundation Seed to trace the wheat seed pipeline—from a few pounds in the breeder's bag to the certified seed growers buy. Jeff opens the hood on a weather‑delayed harvest that still posted only ~5% sprout damage and a 56‑lb test weight on Orange Blossom, then tells the highway‑shoulder saga of backing a combine down I‑44 after a trailer failure. He explains the four certified seed classes (breeder → foundation → registered → certified), why purity matters, and how new tools—like fast‑cleaning plot combines and precision planters—help scale a 10–15 lb start into bushels, quicker. Agronomy nuggets abound: skip‑row/wide‑row, ~500k seeds/acre targets, and how partnerships from Hutchinson to Stillwater keep seed flowing across the Plains.Top ten takeawaysThe seed pipeline exists to protect purity—breeder → foundation → registered → certified—so farmers get exactly the genetics they expect.Even in a rough year, Orange Blossom came off with ~5% sprout damage and 56‑lb test weight, underscoring how management and luck intersect.Logistics are real: after losing two trailer wheels, Jeff literally backed a combine down I‑44 to keep harvest moving.Modern gear speeds purity: a Kincaid research combine can be torn down and cleaned in about 1–1.5 hours(often right in the field).Tiny starts can scale fast: planting 10–15 lb with a research planter can produce bushels the next year and accelerate releases like Scab Striker.Low‑pop, wide/skip‑row wheat works—Jeff often targets ~500,000 seeds/acre and still harvests competitive yields.Trait licensing shapes access: certain lines (e.g., DoubleStop, Strad, CoAXium) are certified‑seed‑only or under special contracts.Cross‑state coordination matters: OSU and K‑State swap seed and use Hutchinson, KS, as a hand‑off to serve customers on both sides of the line.Cold storage and national germplasm archives keep legacy varieties alive for future breeding and rescue.The future's colorful (literally): purple wheats, higher‑fiber lines, and other innovations are on the horizon. Timestamps:00:00–00:18 — Sponsor: Oklahoma Wheat Commission; “feeding the world while growing the future.”00:19–01:20 — Show open, Ep. 424; “lots of wheat going in the ground across the Great Plains.”01:21–02:16 — Team roll call: Dr. Brian Arnall, Dr. Josh Lofton, Dr. Raedan Sharry; booth banter.02:25–03:38 — Meet Jeff Wright, manager of Oklahoma Foundation Seed; recorded at High Plains Journal Live (Wichita).03:39–04:52 — Harvest chaos: cutting delays; “lost two wheels” off the trailer; backed a combine down I‑44 to solve it.04:53–06:10 — What Foundation Seed does: maintain purity, scale new releases, and handle more than wheat (barley, oats, rye, peanuts, mung beans, forage grasses).06:11–08:14 — Weather impact: a late cut still tested ~5% sprout damage and 56 lb test weight on Orange Blossom; theory on staying consistently wet.08:15–12:26 — Jeff's 18‑year arc (since 2007): from F2 gleaners and all‑day cleanouts to better logistics and later planting windows.12:27–15:06 — Launching varieties faster: from Duster's slow start to handling 15–10 lb starts across many lines.15:07–17:22 — Research planter tactics: planting ~25 lb over ~2 acres (80 bu the next year) and 15 lb over ~2 acres (later “Scab Striker” at ~90 bu).18:13–19:32 — Equipment leap: Kincaid seed‑production combine (clean in ~1–1.5 hours in the field) and a small 10‑ft header plot machine (30 minutes, one person).20:09–21:11 — Seed classes explained: breeder → foundation → registered → certified; most OSU lines can be saved farm‑to‑farm, with traited exceptions (e.g., DoubleStop, Strad, some CoAXium).21:53–24:26 — How other states do it; crop mixes; Kansas heavy in wheat, Missouri soybeans, Georgia peanuts.24:37–26:06 — Coordination with K‑State and Kansas Wheat Alliance; swap seed and use Hutchinson as a distribution point.26:46–28:06 — Facilities: moved into a new building in 2018; goal to hard‑install cleaning equipment (retire the portable setup).28:36–29:46 — Agronomy: ~500k seeds/acre can still push yield; which plant types handle wider rows/skip rows best (good tillering, wide leaves).30:09–33:05 — When varieties fade: carryover strategy, hauling to the elevator, and keeping small lots in cold storage; national germplasm backup.34:33–35:24 — What's next: purple wheats, high‑fiber lines, and more CoAXium—“exciting changes ahead.”|36:00–37:30 — Why producer partnerships matter; wrap and contact info RedDirtAgronomy.com

Christo de Wit, hoof van Luno Suid-Afrika, verduidelik hoe Suid-Afrikaners nou hul kripto-geldeenhede direk kan gebruik om vir alledaagse aankope te betaal. Volg RSG Geldsake op Twitter

あなたの英語、会議でこんな風になっていませんか？海外のメンバーとの英語会議。あなたは自信を持って発言できていますか？（自信なさげにボソボソと…）「Ah, my opinion is…」（誰の耳にも届かず、議論は進んでいく）（勇気を出して意見を言ったのに…）「Yes, I'm not quite agreed with that idea.」「Sorry, you're what?」（簡単な単語すら通じず、何度も聞き返されて焦る）（相手の早口な英語に圧倒され、もはや何も言えない…）「Since there are no further comments, let's move on to the next topic.」「...Yes.」（結局、ただ頷くだけで会議が終わってしまった）せっかく海外で挑戦するチャンスを得て、内容のある良い意見を持っているのに、「話し方」や「発音」が原因で、あなたの価値が正当に評価されない。これは、非常にもったいないことです。しかし、ご安心ください。実は、たった3つのポイントを意識するだけで、あなたの英語の「信頼度」と「影響力」は劇的に変わります。この記事では、あなたのビジネスキャリアを加速させる「ネイティブに響く英語の話し方」を、具体的なトレーニング方法と共にご紹介します。なぜあなたの英語は「軽く」聞こえてしまうのか？3つの原因そもそも、なぜ私たちの英語はネイティブスピーカーに届きにくいのでしょうか。それは、単に文法や単語力の問題だけではありません。根本的な「音」の出し方に原因があります。原因①：日本語は「響かない声」、英語は「響かせる声」先日、私が参加した大学の授業での出来事です。留学生が大半を占める中、数少ない日本人学生が発表する場面がありました。内容は非常に興味深いものでしたが、彼らの声はマイクを使っているにもかかわらず、ざわめきの中に埋もれてしまいがちでした。一方で、留学生たちは地声でも驚くほど声が通ります。これは、日本語が主に口先で発声するのに対し、英語は喉の奥や胸、鼻腔などを共鳴させて「響かせる」言語であるという、根本的な発声法の違いから来ています。どんなに正しい文章を話していても、声が相手に届かなければ、存在しないのと同じになってしまいます。原因②：声が平坦で、重要な部分が伝わらない英語には特有のリズムと抑揚（ストレス）があります。しかし、私たちは全ての音を均一の長さと強さで発音してしまう癖があります。例えば、situation という単語。日本人は「シ・チュ・エ・ー・ショ・ン」と、全ての音節を同じように発音しがちです。しかし、ネイティブは si-tu-A-tion のように、「A」の音を最も強く、長く発音します。この「ストレス」を無視してしまうと、文章全体が平坦になり、どこが重要なのか全く伝わりません。結果として、相手はあなたの話を聞き取るのに多大なエネルギーを強いられ、「分かりにくい」「結局何が言いたいの？」という印象を持たれてしまうのです。原因③：自信のなさが声と姿勢に表れてしまう通じない経験が重なると、どうしても声は小さくなり、姿勢も猫背になりがちです。この「自信のなさ」は、たとえ流暢な英語を話したとしても、相手に即座に伝わります。話の内容以前に、**「この人に任せて大丈夫か？」「この意見は信頼できるのか？」**と、無意識のうちに相手を不安にさせてしまうのです。ビジネスの世界では、これは致命的なディスアドバンテージになりかねません。今回は、これら3つの不安を払拭し、あなたの意見に説得力を持たせるための具体的なトレーニングをご紹介します。実践！ネイティブに響く声を作る3つのトレーニングここからは、あなたの英語を劇的に変える3つの実践的なトレーニングです。ぜひ、声に出して試してみてください。トレーニング①：喉の奥から「響く声」を出せまず、英語を話すための土台となる「響く声」を手に入れましょう。ポイントは、喉をリラックスさせて開くことです。ステップあくびをするように、喉の奥を大きく開く感覚を掴みます。息を吸い込み、口蓋の奥の柔らかい部分（ソフトパレット）に息を当てるイメージを持ちます。喉の奥から、リラックスした深いため息をつくように「ハー」と声を出します。この感覚を掴んだら、実際に単語で練習してみましょう。実践練習hah~ hah~ hah~ hot (x3)It was very hot this summer.ha~ ha~ ha~ hand (x3)Add a handful of salt and pepper.口先ではなく、お腹から喉の奥を通って音が出ているのを感じられれば完璧です。トレーニング②：ストレスを意識し「リズム」を作れ次に、単語や文章に力強いリズムを生み出すトレーニングです。ストレスを置く音節は「強く・長く・高く」、それ以外は「弱く・短く・曖昧に」発音するのがコツです。大文字の部分にストレスを置いて、はっきりと違いを意識しながら発音してみましょう。実践練習MA-ma, MA-ma, MA-ma → MAster, MAster, MAsterIt's not easy to master it.WAH-wa, WAH-wa, WAH-wa → WAH-nted, WAH-nted, WAH-ntedThat's what I wanted to do.この強弱のリズムが、あなたの英語に生命を吹き込み、相手の耳に重要な情報がダイレクトに届くようになります。トレーニング③：堂々と話せ！自信は「声」が作るトレーニング①（響き）と②（リズム）が身につくと、驚くほどあなたの声は変わり、自然と自信に満ちた話し方ができるようになります。最後に、仕上げとして、自信に満ちたキャラクターになりきって話すトレーニングをしましょう。お手本は、海外ドラマ『SUITS』の伝説の弁護士、ハーヴィー・スペクターです。彼のセリフからは、一切の迷いが感じられません。下記のセリフを、彼のイメージで、力強く、そして堂々と発音してみてください。（カタカナはあくまで補助的なガイドです）実践練習 (ハーヴィー・スペクターになりきって)Harvey: Well, you go back to the witness's house,/wel, yoo gou bak tu thuh WIT-nes-iz haus/(いいから、もう一度証人の家に行け)Harvey: and you get her to testify again./an ju GEH-der tu TES-ti-fai uh-GEN/(そして、彼女にもう一度証言させるんだ)Mike: I tried. There's no way./ai TRAID, theirs NOU wei/(やりましたが、無理です)Harvey: There's ALWAYS a way./theirs AL-weiz uh WEI/(方法は必ずある)いかがでしょうか？声の出し方やリズムを変えるだけで、同じ言葉でも全く違う意味を持つように感じませんか？この「堂々とした態度」こそが、ビジネスの交渉や会議において、あなたを有利に導く武器となります。まとめ：あなたの声は、あなたの価値を証明する本日お伝えした3つのポイントを、もう一度振り返りましょう。喉の奥から声を出す → これにより、あなたの声が相手に物理的に届くようになります。長い音と短い音をはっきりさせる → これにより、あなたの話の重要なポイントが明確に伝わります。堂々と話す → ①と②の実践が、揺るぎない自信を生み出します。自信が見えないところに、チャンスは訪れません。それでは、冒頭のシーンを、この3つのポイントを実践してもう一度演じてみましょう。Before:（自信なさげに、平坦な声で）"I'm not quite agreed with that idea."After:（喉の奥から響かせ、"agreed"と"idea"にストレスを置いて、堂々と）"I'm not quite aGREED with that iDEa."いかがでしょうか？話している内容は全く同じでも、後者の方が圧倒的に説得力があり、信頼できるように聞こえませんか？これが、「ネイティブに響く話し方」の力です。今日から始まるあなたの英語は、もう誰にも「舐められる」ことはありません。トレーニングを続ければ、次回の英語会議では、あなたの意見が議論の中心になっているはずです。あなたのビジネスキャリアが、この「声」のトレーニングによって、さらに輝かしいものになることを心から願っています。

In deze aflevering van Nieuws van de Week spreken Rogier van Bemmel, Ad Verbrugge en Maurice de Hond over de verkiezingscampagne en de groeiende politieke polarisatie in Nederland. We bespreken de controverse rond het advies van de Raad van Staten over statushouders en woningtoewijzing, Keir Starmer's digitale ID-plannen in het VK, en de problematische verkiezingen in Moldavië. Daarnaast gaan we in op de verbindende woorden van een pleegmoeder na het fatbike-drama, de spanningen rond islamitisch en reformatorisch onderwijs, en de revolutionaire gevolgen van kunstmatige intelligentie.Steun DNW en word patroon op http://www.petjeaf.com/denieuwewereld.Liever direct overmaken? Maak dan uw gift over naar NL61 RABO 0357 5828 61 t.n.v. Stichting De Nieuwe Wereld. Crypto's doneren kan via https://commerce.coinbase.com/checkout/31d3b502-6996-41f6-97aa-ef2958025fb8-- Bronnen en links bij deze uitzending: Aflevering Pauw & de Wit https://npo.nl/start/serie/pauw-de-wit/seizoen-1/pauw-de-wit_17 Do 2 okt--00:00 – Introductie01:03 – Welkom Rogier van Bemmel, Ad Verbrugge en Maurice de Hond02:33 – Winterfestival aankondiging en sponsoroproep04:50 – Verkiezingscampagne als Tour de France: eerste 30km afgelegd06:35 – Timmermans over "sociale meerderheid" tegenover parlement08:05 – Raad van Staten advies statushouders woningvoorrang09:23 – Maurice's peiling: 80-90% polarisatie links-rechts10:39 – Tom de Graaf voorzitter: politieke neutraliteit ter discussie13:17 – Hegel's "halve reflectie" en non discriminatie beginsel15:27 – Mensenrechten vs staatsburgerschap als uitgangspunt22:34 – Liberale hegemonie sinds jaren '90: einde van geschiedenis24:30 – Klaver "feiten liggen vast" vs Baudet over interpretatie26:17 – Theoriegeladenheid van feiten en wetenschap30:57 – Gescheiden platforms: geen gesprek tussen kanten36:21 – Tribalisering sociale media: moraal naar moralisme43:07 – Religieus onderwijs: reformatorisch vs islamitisch48:44 – Artikel 23 vrijheid onderwijs: Nederlandse schoolstrijd53:05 – Radicalisering islamitische vs geïntegreerde reformatorische scholen1:01:05 – Starmer's digitale ID aankondiging voor 20291:01:42 – COVID QR-codes precedent: uitsluiting publiek leven1:03:09 – Starmer's motivatie illegale immigratie (verandert niets)1:05:12 – Technocratie en surveillance staat concreet geworden1:08:21 – Sovjet-Unie implosie ondanks doctrine en successen1:10:01 – Europese elites proberen project door te zetten1:15:11 – Paniek elk land: nergens loopt het soepel1:16:37 – AI impact werkgelegenheid: "you ain't see nothing yet"1:20:45 – Moldavië verkiezingen: Europese lobby beperkte stembureaus1:22:47 – "Pot verwijt ketel": Europese vs Russische inmenging1:23:44 – Trump's tweet Oekraïne-conflict en escalatiegevaar1:26:33 – Poetin vergelijkt Westen met Sovjet-Unie implosie1:29:15 – Andere taal ontwikkelen voor andere benadering1:31:03 – Realiteitszin verdwenen: abstracte vs concrete denkbeelden1:33:43 – Afsluiting: verdiepende gesprekken waar je van leert--De Nieuwe Wereld TV is een platform dat mensen uit verschillende disciplines bij elkaar brengt om na te denken over grote veranderingen die op komst zijn door een combinatie van snelle technologische ontwikkelingen en globalisering. Het is een initiatief van filosoof Ad Verbrugge in samenwerking met anchors Jelle van Baardewijk en Marlies Dekkers. De Nieuwe Wereld TV wordt gemaakt in samenwerking met de Filosofische School Nederland. Onze website: https://denieuwewereld.tv/ DNW heeft ook een Substack. Meld je hier aan: https://denieuwewereld.substack.com/

High Notes returns for its third season with Words at Work, a series about the role of voice in business.BRAVA founder, Melissa Thom talks to leading figures across business, culture, and communication: Simon Lancaster, Margaret Heffernan, Dr. Rockford Sansom, Jane Duffus, Colin Burgess, Tricia Duffy, Lynne Franks, and Janey Lee Grace.Together, they explore how voice shapes influence, leadership, and true connection at work: how to stay composed under pressure, engage an audience and speak with authority.Subscribe on your preferred podcast platform, or visit brava.uk.com/podcast for more.Season 3 GuestsSimon Lancaster: speechwriter to business and political leaders, on the Language of Leadership and the hidden patterns that make communication persuasive.Jane Duffus: writer and historian, on Women, Wit & the Power of Speech and how women's voices have shaped, and continue to shape public life.Colin Burgess: BAFTA's Executive Director of Operations, on the Resilient Voice, building legacy, and nurturing new creative voices in film, games and television.Tricia Duffy: leadership coach, on Creative Confidence and finding your voice in times of change and uncertainty.Dr. Rockford Sansom: voice coach to executives worldwide, on Influence & Impact, and how leaders can speak with presence in the boardroom.Janey Lee Grace: BBC broadcasting legend and coach, on Executive Presence, clarity, sobriety and having the courage to speak up.Lynne Franks: author, entrepreneur, communications strategist and fashion pioneer on Leading with Wisdom, and using voice as a force for visibility, purpose, and change.Margaret Heffernan: business thinker, writer and voted one of the "Top 100 Media Executives" by The Hollywood Reporter on Voice, Creativity and Embracing Uncertainty, and why leadership today demands adaptability.High Notes — where every performance is a conversation.Subscribe now so you never miss an episode.Follow us for more informationhttps://www.linkedin.com/company/bravauk/https://www.facebook.com/bravaukhttps://www.instagram.com/bravaukSubscribe to the BRAVA newsletter for regular updates on news, training opportunities, and insights from the world of voice:https://www.brava.uk.com/subscribe Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Christo de Wit, hoof van Luno Afrika, gesels oor stappe om kriptogeldeenhede meer verhandelbaar te maak. Volg RSG Geldsake op Twitter

Fear isn't just about the chills—it's about what our minds, bodies, and cultures do with it.In this episode of Wit and Reason, licensed clinical social worker Alex and community psychologist Dr. Alexis unpack the psychology of fear through strange encounters and cultural stories. From childhood trauma mistaken for ghost sightings to Tesla tech glitches misread as hauntings, they explore how fear shapes memory, perception, and resilience.Why do some people love horror for the thrill, while others can't escape the weight of terrifying memories? Alex and Dr. Alexis break down the science, the folklore, and the impact on our mental health—while reminding us that the goal isn't to prove or disprove the paranormal, but to process fear in ways that keep us safe, validated, and curious.Disclaimer: This episode contains discussions of trauma, hallucinations, psychosis, and suicide. Listener discretion is advised. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Research-Based Reading Strategies for Any CurriculumDiscover how Jennifer Serravallo's Reading Strategies Book 2.0 empowers educators with flexible, evidence-based strategies that work across curricula like CKLA, Wonders, and Wit & Wisdom. Learn how strategic instruction supports diverse learners, aligns with standards, and makes lesson goals clear—thanks to exclusive skill progressions and standards correlations.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Are you angry and frustrated with your coworkers or school-mates? Do you have woo that you want to pitch but are getting frustrated by your potential partner? Do you have difficulty remembering what we are talking about sometimes? Well, the name of our beer is Wit's End....sooooooo..... I guess it is time to really focus and start to really pull apart this book and figure out what is going on. Frist off, we should all get our comic books and prepare to play our game. Speaking of playing, how would you like to have a playroom like the Future Foundation kids? Is that cool out or what. Why could we not have such a cool room to grow up in? Why do we not have that kind of awesome life. I needed this as a child and I need it now. Build me an adult playground! And while we are at it, I need some aweome, yummy, sugary cereal that is secretly healthy, and yet full of sugar. Can we make that happen? I do not want it to taste fake or gross, I want it to taste like neon unnatural fruit not found in any forest, and I want it to kick the synapses in my brain pan into overdrive. But I do not want diabetes. More coffee, better coffee, faster coffee. Make it be awesome, plentiful and make it come out of taps like bourbon. Wait, you do not have bourbon taps? You should. It makes all the difference in the world. And if someone questions your life choices, deny them bourbon from your bourbon tap. Ok...I need a moment. The coffee and cereal need to have a meeting with me. Another thing I need, many TV's all showing animie. I want my brain to explode from the concentrate assault cute anime characters making cute motions on the screen. I need those big eyes and cute features to just make my morning great. And finally, I need to have my good guys and bad guys dressed in appropriate clothing. And I need this to happen know. I need all of the bad guys in the world to start wearing the appropriate colors so we can know them on site. Make it happen world. Well, now that we got the serious stuff out of the way, we can go back to being silly in a couple of weeks. We also have some merchandise over at Redbubble. We have a couple of nifty shirts for sale. https://www.redbubble.com/people/jeffrickpresent/?asc=u   If you want to see the pictures, check out this site:  https://jeffandrickpresent.wordpress.com/2025/08/25/ff-v2-12-mind-mischief/   You can also subscribe and listen to us on YouTube!  Our show supports the Hero Initiative, Helping Comic Creators in Need.  http://www.heroinitiative.org/ Eighties Action by Kevin MacLeod Link: https://incompetech.filmmusic.io/song/3703-eighties-action License: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/ Mainstream Music 2025 Vol. 8

Nelleke Noordervliet is schrijver. Ook is ze columnist voor dagblad Trouw en OVT. In 1987 debuteerde Noordervliet met ‘Tine of De Dalen', een historisch roman over de vrouw van Multatuli, waarna ze veelgeprezen romans publiceerde zoals ‘Het oog van de engel' en ‘De naam van de vader', een verhaal over Augusta de Wit die opzoek gaat naar de identiteit van haar vader, een Duitse soldaat, waarmee ze de Multatuliprijs won. In 2018 werd haar oeuvre geprezen met de Constantijn Huyens-prijs. In haar nieuwe roman ‘Het bewind van de gelukkigen', probeert een voormalig journalist op het platteland te ontsnappen aan het opgelegde geluk van het regime in een Europa zonder vrije pers. Atze de Vrieze gaat met Nelleke Noordervliet in gesprek.

Performers do more than entertain. Whether comedians, musicians, theater artists, or athletes, they challenge the status quo, spark joy, and reflect the struggles we all face. In this episode of Wit and Reason with Alex & Dr. Alexis' Therapy or Trash series, we dive into the psychology of touring, the resilience of live performers, and the ways audiences benefit from their courage to show up on stage.Through stand-up comedy, indie theater, music, and even BMX stunts, we reveal how performers help us laugh, think, and connect more deeply with ourselves and each other. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Per la puntata di questa settimana, Kuna condivide i risultati di un recente articolo che mostra come le probabilità di un abbattimento dell'AMOC (il “nastro trasportatore” della corrente oceanica che contribuisce alla relativa mitezza del clima nordeuropeo) siano meno basse di quanto pensassimo, e che il tipping point oltre il quale l'evento diventerebbe inevitabile potrebbe essere a poche decadi di distanza.Fonte: Drijfhout S. et al., Shutdown of northern Atlantic overturning after 2100 following deep mixing collapse in CMIP6 projections (2025), Environmental Research Letters 20(9) (https://doi.org/10.1088/1748-9326/adfa3b).Leonardo Intervista Giulio Betti, climatologo e metereologo del CNR e del consorzio LaMMA Toscana. Con lui facciamo il punto sul clima, e sulla ricerca e la comunicazione sul clima in nell'era di Trump.Dopo una barza che ci arriva da una fonte insospettabile, Giuliano analizza i risultati di una ricerca condotta sul social X che mostra come un opportuno uso dell'umorismo sui social possa rendere l'interlocutore non solo più simpatico, ma anche più affidabile quando parla di scienza.Fonte: Frank, A.L. et al., Wit meets wisdom: the relationship between satire and anthropomorphic humor on scientists' likability and legitimacy (2025) Journal of Science Communication 24(01), A04 (https://doi.org/10.22323/2.24010204).Conduzione: Kuna e JulienMontaggio: JulienOspiti: Leonardo Maccari, Giulio BettiDiventa un supporter di questo podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/scientificast-la-scienza-come-non-l-hai-mai-sentita--1762253/support.

Interview with Tom Pimlott of The Flex, Wit's End, The Social, and more.Support the show

On this week's episode, we're discussing the 1932 Marx Bros classic Horse Feathers, and its enduring relevance to modern comedy and pop culture.https://www.spreaker.com/episode/horse-feathers--67562200#groucho #chico #harpo #marx #marxbros #comedy #film #movie #vaudville #broadway #comedy #comedian #comedians #zany #satire #wit #witty

Stephanie Owen and Chris Zizza are joined by Doug Howard of Growth Team Strategies and Jon Czeranna, co-owner of Wit & Craft and creator of the Brand Lab, to preview the Real Answers Small Business Workshop on October 16. They explore branding and marketing strategies for hardwood flooring businesses, emphasizing the importance of knowing your customer, overcoming the fear of losing bids, and learning to sell on value instead of price. Jon shares a proven framework to help you position your business above the competition, communicate your worth clearly, and attract clients who respect both your work and your rates.

Fitz finds himself back in Buckkeep town where everything looks like it has changed; new growth, new faces, and yet the nostalgia hits him hard. He becomes a servant to the recently arrived noble, Lord Golden, and finds his way to the hidden chamber where Chade taught him. He learns from Chade that Prince Dutiful has run away and that he is suspected of having the Wit.  We're reading Fool's Errand by Robin Hobb, book 1 of the Tawny Man Trilogy in The Realm of the Elderlings.

Adult friendships can be lifelines—or emotional sinkholes. But when a friendship starts feeling more draining than supportive, do you walk away, set boundaries, or push for deeper connection?In this episode of Wit and Reason's Therapy Or Trash series, Dr. Alexis Moreno and Alex Honigman react to viral videos on friendship, vulnerability, neurodivergence, and emotional intelligence. They dig into whether ghosting, redefining boundaries, or fighting for closeness is healthy and therapeutic… or toxic and trash.From ADHD distraction guilt to the grief of outgrowing one-sided relationships, they unpack the neuroscience, psychology, and emotional cost of changing how—and who—you connect with as an adult. Along the way, they validate the “strong friend,” challenge outdated social rules, and push for intentional friendships built on equity, reciprocity, and care.If you've ever wrestled with whether to hold on or let go, this conversation will help you see friendship through a sharper, more compassionate lens. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Wit and Reason with Alex & Dr. Alexis is a lifestyle podcast hosted by married couple, Alex Honigman, clinical social worker, executive coach, and cultural enthusiast, and Dr. Alexis Moreno, an award-winning psychologist and media consultant. Together, they provide relatable, actionable advice and real-life stories to help listeners improve their relationships, mental health, fitness, and personal growth. This podcast offers a unique interactive format where episodes are recorded live on TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube. Listeners can participate in real time, submitting questions, comments, and polls that shape the episode, creating a sense of community and connection.

A group called Return to the Land (RTTL) is creating a whites-only settlement in the Ozarks, requiring members to prove “European ancestry,” identify as straight, Christian, and exclude Jewish people, Black people, immigrants, and LGBTQ+ individuals. This isn't just racism—it's an organized attempt to build a high-control community using legal loopholes, cult-like psychology, and social fear.In this episode of Wit and Reason, therapist couple Alex Honigman, LCSW and Dr. Alexis Moreno, Clinical Community Psychologist, break down viral videos responding to RTTL and use peer-reviewed psychological and sociological research to explain:What motivates people to join exclusionary groupsHow identity threats, fear, and authoritarianism shape extremist movementsWhy RTTL may meet many of the criteria for cults and high-control groupsThe dangers of pseudo-legal structures like PMAs (Private Membership Associations)How racism, patriarchy, and paranoia form social engineering projectsWhether you're curious, concerned, or confused—this episode explains why this movement is dangerous and what it reveals about the deeper mental health and cultural fractures in America today. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

This week on Mel & Floyd: Mel's [triumphant?] return!; Wit removal surgery yet to come; And other random topics. The post The Most Dangerous Thing You Can Do appeared first on WORT-FM 89.9.

We're back for another round of Women in Translation Month! Each August, readers around the world celebrate books written by women and translated into English, spotlighting voices the too often go unheard. In this episode, we each pick five WIT titles we're planning to read this month. We promise our goal is not to derail your carefully curated TBR list, but this is an event where we'll happily take responsibility for your reading detours!What WIT books are you reading to celebrate?We've got some fantastic author-focused episodes lined up for the foreseeable future, and we want to give you plenty of time to dive in if you'd like to read along with us. These episodes come around every ten episodes, and with our bi-weekly release schedule, you'll have a few months to get ready for each. Here's what we have in store:* Episode 115: Kazuo Ishiguro* Episode 125: Flannery O'Connor* Episode 135: William Faulkner* Episode 145: Elizabeth Taylor* Episode 155: Naguib MahfouzThere's no rush—take your time, and grab a book (or two, or three) so you're prepared for these as they come!Join the Mookse and the Gripes on DiscordWant to share your thoughts on these upcoming authors or anything else we're discussing? Join us over on Discord! It's the perfect place to dive deeper into the conversation—whether you're reading along with our author-focused episodes or just want to chat about the books that are on your mind.We're also just now in our second novella book club, where we're reading Giovanni's Room by James Baldwin. It's a fantastic book, and we'd love to have you join the discussion. It's a great space to engage with fellow listeners, share your insights, and discover new perspectives on the books you're reading.ShownotesBooks* The Adventures of China Iron, by Gabriela Cabezón Cámara, translated by Fiona Mackintosh and Iona Macintyre* We Are Green and Trembling, by Gabriela Cabezón Cámara, translated by Robin Myers* The Ghost Writer, by Philip Roth* Love in a Cold Climate, by Nancy Mitford* The Sun King, by Nancy Mitford* The Pursuit of Love, by Nancy Mitford* Don't Tell Alfred, by Nancy Mitford* Voltaire in Love, by Nancy Mitford* The Faces, by Tove Ditlevsen, translated by Tiina Nunnally* The Trouble with Happiness, by Tove Ditlevsen, translated by Michael Favala Goldman* Killing Stella, by Marlen Haushofer, translated by Shaun Whiteside* The Wall, by Marlen Haushofer, translated by Shaun Whiteside* Overstaying, by Ariane Koch, translated by Damion Searls* In Farthest Seas, by Lalla Romano, translated by Brian Robert Moore* A Silence Shared, by Lalla Romano, translated by Brian Robert Moore* Frontier, by Can Xue, translated by Karen Gernant and Chen Zeping* The Last Lover, by Can Xue, translated by Annelise Finegan* The Blue Room, by Hanne Ørstavik, translated by Deborah Dawkins* The Taiga Syndrome, by Cristina Rivera Garza, translated by Suzanne Jill Levine and Aviva Kana* New and Selected Stories, by Cristina Rivera Garza, translated by Sarah Booker with additional translations by Lisa Dillman, Francisca González Arias, and Alex Ross* Ultramarine, by Mariette Navarro, translated by Eve Hill Agnus* Voices in the Evening, by Natalia Ginzburg, translated by D.M. Low* The Dry Heart, by Natalia Ginzburg, translated by Frances Frenaye* Family Lexicon, by Natalia Ginzburg, translated by Jenny McPhee* Traces of Enayat, by Iman Mersal, translated by Robin Moger* Motherhood and Its Ghosts, by Iman Mersal, translated by Robin Moger* Animal Stories, by Kate Zambreno* Migratory Birds, by Mariana Oliver, translated by Julia SanchesOther* PEN/America: Women in Translation Month Reading Series 2025* Women in Translation Month websiteThe Mookse and the Gripes Podcast is a bookish conversation hosted by Paul and Trevor. Every other week, we explore a bookish topic and celebrate our love of reading. We're glad you're here, and we hope you'll continue to join us on this literary journey!A huge thank you to those who help make this podcast possible! If you'd like to support us, you can do so via Substack or Patreon. Subscribers receive access to periodic bonus episodes and early access to all new episodes. Plus, each supporter gets their own dedicated feed, allowing them to download episodes a few days before they're released to the public. We'd love for you to check it out! This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit mookse.substack.com/subscribe

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