Podcasts about Weeping

The Chicago String Band Carl Martin - Johnny Young – John Lee Granderson – John Wrencher Testament Records 1. The Sun Is Sinking Low (3:35) Granderson - vocal & guitar; Martin - violin; Young – mandolín 2. Trouble On Your Hands (4:26) Martin - vocal & guitar; Young - mandolin; Wrencher - harmonica; Granderson – guitar 3. Weeping & Moaning (2:42) Young - vocal & mandolin; Martin - violin; Granderson – guitar 4. You Know I Do (2:12) Wrencher - vocal & harmonica; Martin - violin; Young - mandolin; Granderson – guitar 5. Hoodoo Blues (3:47) Martin - vocal & violin; Young - mandolin; Granderson – guitar 6. You Got Good Business (2:18) Young - vocal & mandolin; Martin - violin; Granderson – guitar 7. Take It Easy Baby* (3:29) Granderson - vocal & guitar; Martin - violin; Young - mandolin; Wrencher – harmónica 8. 1 Got To Find That Woman (1:45) Granderson - vocal & guitar; Young - mandolin; Wrencher – harmónica 9. Clean Cut Mama (3:52) Young - vocal & guitar; Granderson - guitar; Wrencher – harmónica 10. Railroad Blues (2:57) Martin - vocal & violin; Young - guitar; Granderson – guitar 11. Don't Sic Your Dog On Me (2:19) Wrencher - vocal & harmonica; Martin - mandolin; Young - guitar; Granderson – guitar 12. John Henry (2:36) Martin - violin; Wrencher - harmonica; Young - guitar; Granderson – guitar 13. Memphis, Tenn., 1939 Blues (4:10) Young - vocal & mandolin; Martin - violin; Granderson – guitar 14. Bye Bye Pete* (3:55) Young - vocal & mandolin; Martin - violin; Granderson - guitar; Bill Foster – guitar * Previously unissued All other tracks were previously issued on Testament 2220 Recorded 6/18/66 - Chicago, Illinois

Call: Psalm 3 Offering: Scripture: Revelation 5:1-7 NASB

A @Christadelphians Video: Description: What's in store for Israel? Their military campaigns may lead to confidence and assurance about their own abilities. The northern host led by Russia will do untold damage to Jerusalem and almost annihilate the people of Israel in the coming battle of Armageddon. The Jews are only saved by the coming of the Lord Jesus Christ which prompts a repentance and belief in the Saviour. So Israel will be saved.[Watchman Report: 'The Coming Tribulation' - Nigel Bernard]This thought-provoking and insightful Bible talk by Nigel Bernard offers a revealing biblical perspective on current events in Israel. Moving beyond the headlines, this expositional presentation examines what prophecy reveals about Israel's future, the necessary period of tribulation before its ultimate deliverance, and the sobering reality of the coming invasion foretold in Ezekiel.Gain a deeper understanding of the prophecies concerning Gog, the mountains of Israel (the West Bank), and the divine intervention that will culminate at Armageddon. This analysis is essential for any Bible student seeking to view world news through the lens of Scripture and understand the events that must precede the establishment of God's kingdom.**Chapters / Timestamps:**00:00 - Introduction: A Biblical Perspective on World News00:53 - The Prophecy of a Northern Invasion (Ezekiel 38)02:51 - Israel's Future Confidence and Security03:52 - Current Events as a Stepping Stone to Prophecy04:15 - Israel's Confidence vs. God's Purpose05:16 - The Refining Fire of Tribulation (Zechariah 13:8-9)06:17 - The Siege of Jerusalem (Zechariah 14:1-2)06:46 - A Warning to Flee07:42 - Weeping for Jerusalem, Hoping for Deliverance08:44 - The Purpose of Tribulation and National Repentance09:30 - Conclusion and Call to Subscribe**Bible Verses Referenced:**

Not even a wisper of collision penetrates explicitly this inclusion; Segmented and represented this disarray of miserable approval, And, abject, Or i object, I guess To that which is to say Today is in between the ordinary and disarray, To make arrangements; A solemn display of effect and intent of regression, And yet without all clear disrespect to port or establishment; Still here are there words and where there was love, no more— none for her but then around, within arousal stands as that, to which has since been lost, If not to time, another concept thus by force unknown, to with and withstand habitat for circumstantial evidence of coincidence, But yet arbitrary and then dismayed for short or arc, There this, no more her words for flower, more of words to thus embark. Still time, Very well, my breath, for I have opened a foreign chapter— Then with the way you say, you wore our out, In time you are uncovered for her drugs and left to smuggle over-under— Therefore when that said time has come, you know to form the drift to wait, And yet lack still this patience I have tamed you many acres since the ancients fell upon there ails; There pitting since sunk and crucial to this, and our time is not lost nor won, disheveled making prayers for sense and dollar signs; No have no more barren chest and thought of songs, much less a found the words for songs as though my love has crept upon the rock, That dusk and dawn, the ocean licks with parched tongue. Scare her dry and feast and fragile and evidence remained as these as words and thoughts, The truths would tell the tale for every way. With each drift scattered mark, upon those boats with sails above known not as white but also many colors of the brethren cut from clothes of all apart and none of one, for this, her maritime. {Enter The Multiverse} I opened right to Debbie downer; I got medicine for your habit (I got the remedy in the form of a secret, But the misery is in keeping it) I got a kind heart, I did some mai tai, Should have learned some thai chi As if I took some matcha Or chai tea Caffeine Adrenaline I got a kind heart Adderall instead of Ritalin Entry level access Salary yellow fashion, Intercept, invest Inception, redirect Service elevator, eh; She don't live here no more But where she is? Couldn't tell you. What's the story On a ten star war. No more Harvard, Purple hearted general, General admission to a festival? Just miss me that that bullshit. For your pleasure, Every crevice just has pressure in it— Now I get it I hypnotized myself, I guess The ribbon Blue belt I should be cleaning instead of half sleeping; I keep explaining myself thinking somebody can hear me When they obviously can't. I've been screaming silently for seven seconds, Several years I think on other planets Pull your hair back in a bun And then you'll learn, I guess I passed out cold upon the stand That was the plan, I guess Much slower to close than to open, Although, I know I pop-button broke the code before But still no low moral summoning (Sorry, product) Still no low road or mud throwing No more home She's 32 and 3 months older But looks much longer And harder, tired Must have body or Motive Must have body Or bad intentions Take a man, and write a book about it Take a man, and write a book about it I call that a thirst trap I call that a thirst trap. She must no longer Prim and proper But the work is never over, Show us all the roots, and know the knowledge But don't talk or comment on it I was “almost” once And I was honest twice Three times, you're a liar Mister, honor, pleasure, Fisher wife And never leather, Tipping tethered, Tied to rock and kite And lock and key For here and there Forbearance, rather Here for never ever after Amen and then some L E G E N D S I told you Jimmy Fallon was a Skrillex. I know. What's worse: Skrillex is a Jimmy Fallon. Oh, that is worse. yO iT iS pRoGrEsSiVeLy WOrSE: Is this what you wanted? The awful destruction of constructs— Click, boom— Knife, gun, Add an axe, Bind the axel, Excellent, Put the prejudice inside your head ahead (We brought it back) Put the Edipus complex To this effect Upon a platter Silver as the gun at stake, And raise the hand that shouldn't matter After that? You won. Four tries; Six goons, Four Gods, One white ther I have Two white coats and misters, hot coals Dark fires, have ones, Six mazes, one center On your mark “The Dark Forest” Ugh I hate this one, Get set Don't forget, we all died here. We all crisis, We all Christ. Goosebumps, right? Gimmie that kite! You dumb son of a bitch! GO! Check it out! I look like Kim Kardashian. But you smell like Kim Chi. Yooo that joke took me like 2 months to write down! I know huh! [The Festival Project ™] I looked for something on Hulu to watch for so long that I almost ate my entire dinner without clicking on something. Finally, I find something that interests me, which is just a graphic of a television set and some color palette by now that is somewhat of a calling card for me. So I get there, And it is of interests, And yet of course the unexplainable anomaly of this, is that, no matter how far I try to run l He just keeps coming back. ‘Like this is crazy.' I never found myself agreeing with Louis C.K. about anything at all, and personally and particularly, I never found him funny, until, that was the sudden realization that the same array of betrayal, anger, and agony fueled by rage and jealousy had taken over he and I and many others probably, when introduced to the possibility of having to share the same reality with a head of hair and a face like that. I might have mustered a “my sentiments exactly” though silently before taking in to my own wonder and amazement that twice in one week, besides skipping over the algorithmic traps in my sidebar which I treated like little land mines or time bombs, but mostly allotted to my own Internet history of my uninhabited viewing, as it seemed I'd been most preoccupied in rerouting this energy into a fascination with TV programming, giving me the satiety for the comfort and familiarity in something; and I was with some some kind of certainty I knew alluded to the old adage of mother knowing everything. Even if everything hadn't happened yet, actually, or maybe it had. This strange sort of desire however was some sort of weakness, with the ability to have a fixation for a desire without any way of actually getting it. As she used to say. “Having champagne taste, but beer money.” [so I avoid it because it makes me angry.] Sometimes even, tearfully angry, and it made me feel so uncontrollably adolescent that I would have equated it to the hysteria of beetlemania; screaming and clawing and aching and chasing for this being that was so notably out of reach. Worse off, I'd realized in this running from what seemed was chasing me was how common I was in this feeling, [] To my demise. In this sense, the safety of this entire being and any alike, was that I could seek logic in my jealousy by rationalizing not attaching to a certain subject sexually or otherwise. But this basis in the contempt of familiarity was really rather irritating, in that it seemed as simple as having an awareness of this seeing all the time, to the point that I became a subconscious aching for [something], blossoming into the actual conscious awareness out of the repressive need for something I no longer had and always wanted: [The Festival Project ™] And for for this, I considered it a sort of sickness that I couldn't seem to tear away from it, but also something that had happened very naturally, and now had unearthed an entire cavern of secrets I could be found no where writing or even very rarely thinking them. Thoughts or ideas worth protecting and the kind of code that goes about saying nothing, looking the other way, keeping your mouth shut and hiding or guarding with your life. But media, or the eye that seems to see all lately had been poking at it, maybe because I wasn't. Maybe because I spent an hour at a time four day a week with [a less than separate set of characters] —or big brother, if you will, in a safe and respectable distance and admiration [] Where I could at a certain pace study this sort of programming without anything having to be reflective of the life I wasn't living— the sex I wasn't having. Watching the ABC version of late night programming was allowing me to focus on the other things I needed— being very skinny, and crossing one leg over the other and sitting pretty; while also showing me another side of a suit and tie that was interesting— The ability to be invisible, and also say many things without talking, for anyone paying attention to the complex series of things very often overlooked by a normal onlooker or audience, Which I was, and wasn't— because I was looking for something. The mind boggling thing to me was, by watching, I was actually finding it. [The Festival Project ™] —Death of a Superstar DJ As Seen on TV The Television People “Puzzle Pieces” I don't want anything I don't want anyone Conflated circumstance Oh, it was was just a nut— Got it and now it's gone Pulled it all off at the thought It was Thunderous But now I got it together I don't want anyone Especially not a poor boy No I'm not alone, boy I got my kitty Pet the cat and love my pussy, So it's really not a mystery I don't need him, or anybody really Miss me with that shit That's a pretty promise and a big redaction Deadass I stepped into my ballet shoe And onto shards of glass I guess that's on pointe But off topic Co-ed saunabody shopping I show up at Equinox But only when I want (On proxy) I protect my heart (On God) I don't want nobody really. One one-off on Wall Street, brother Don't bother calling back Don't got my number, Not a problem Not my name Or my address Cause if you did You'd be depressed like I am. Now we're getting dressed You take a cab I take the train Just another day of training But my life. Is steady draining There's no use in even explaining myself I guess I'm selfish Like dental floss for Christmas Or shellfish for the kitty But for me just friuits and veggies You don't notice? I love nobody, Cause nobody could love me Now I'm over it Now I'm over it Now I'm over it But you know the cost I was nothing Now I want Nothing Nobody love me I don't want nobody, No I'm not sorry How they're swarming on my GPS location With these second rate bit glitches I stay sleeping in my kitch But I'll never rest, I guess Until theirs justice Said that. {Enter The Multiverse} Excerpt: The Television People (TVP) Season 4 © The Complex Collevtivd [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights Reserved REGINALD Would you kill your prostitute for one million dollars? PATRICK Why would you ask me that? REGINALD That's an odd answer. I'd expect your response to be somewhere along the lines of denial of— ever having a prostitute. PATRICK I'm a talk show host. REGINALD Is that supposed to mean something? PATRICK There are certain societal assumptions. REGINALD Do you find yourself—befitting to any of those stereotypes? PATRICK I don't find myself “befitting” at all. REGINALD You know, local [charters of our office] — (But Patrick speaks quickly and with dominance to cut him off.) PATRICK Now that I know what you are— REGINALD You mean “who”? PATRICK I mean “what”; why make and owl's cry in response to a dog's bark? [a realization between the both of them is immidiately found; this sort of language has implied they are belonging to the same branch of THE EYE which acts above the law; it is a fair fight— and now they this phrase has been established, there are now rules written or unspoken which can be applied here.] REGINALD cocks his head and forces an awkward smirk. REGINALD Very well. I am quite the trouble maker; I am mischief, I am danger, I am Chaos, I am leveled I am honored, I am damned I am also coming making day of peace and hallowed are you; I am also coming waves of needing peace to which I bound to. So sparrow coming grace and peace and giving, Made and tied, Though had you not the ever presence or the record for the time, So then you too shall wander, mercilessly to and fro and all about, And here and there but never where my value has been gathered. So for that, the dust is set, And said and twisted, never making bread for peace And dead for death, and craving this, to set of force her Having made my honor there, and lying in the wit and willow, weathered veins and weathervane, And twisting wind of fate and fortune. So, my mind and tressure buried there for gains and white, her shadow Barren in the east, and in the west her mortuary; Seeking sane and crypt but tied and kept for thithered foust and fouling, Butter turned to brittle, May, September, Then another serpent— More to moulf and wept her slated dream for keeping broken bear in, There the wake had frozen into lake and also leather boxes, For what will of what I am and is her fare not wearing any; Though the mister winds of east and west had set her onward any. Lemons and limes, though— Taking my time, soured Never with water, sugar But chest without pride; There in the wake marked and marched o. Her army, Not to yawn or buyoer billow, Porridge feathered, Cream and none for part her hunger There though, then were the marks And the found of the wicked past; Ties there and fire would have her mark upon the dungeon throne, Weeping here though on the floor for flour Every hour passed as I, come creeping with the forest feathered, dimmed the basket having cut from tethered grass, I. And now we wait though them, here, The marshmellow and willow not having woken, Though Monday, for total control of her honor, Contorted. Then came, seeking guild and weight and force, The fear and wind though wish to pull apart the storm had gathered, fell apart itself, Though sit not back and then became as strong, a pebble which from dust became an avalanche at once, through windows past, I— Marked one forest, and one warm summer, And one forest, and good quilt, did slither, and then making in the forest, I, for did I run As yet to suffer also. Yo where the fuck am I going. Alright, airtight we want and something foraged from nothing in her name, And this the time that tells itself for life and health In other ways besides your own. Don't cough. For those who either suffering or lost know of your forces and so sure does come the rock that turned from stone in forests over, So you sure too shall come another, Poor and hurt but soon to suffer, Also. tisk- tisk The risk my friends is running wise, The coyotes running wild for find that lone and feathered friend, To which has flight with all the know that he, and friends are feasts of foe and so these might and waves of time are sure to grow into another. Right on. So I write on and then, the missed and uninformed becomes again the death I recommended. Ten till ten tales and also please give, and whistle whalfolks under our time which has lost mine and all others. So tempted there come gathered, weeping Feathers at her slaughtered as palms, Weight beyond the brow and below the belt to which that called her— Devil's mate and crater for the fate but fame at heart earned, casting shadows over which has lost its appetite, for now becalmed her hunger. Her hunger. Her hunger. REGINALD's tone changes entirely— if at first it may have been a playful game (and it wasn't) now it is serious— crucial, even. REGINALD Why did you do it? PATRICK I wouldn't do something like that… REGINALD —something like what? PATRICK realizes quickly he's been playing over in his mind that has not yet fully been realized on the surface of the conversation— it was an honest answer, but still implicit, and so in this moment of self awareness and realization, also of stunning showman and marksmanship, a certain light comes on as if the camera has been directed at him; his entire mask comes on at once, and no longer can the reminisce of an honest thought be detected. He has become a wall. PATRICK To follow up on your first question. Which was odd— REGINALD About killing your prostitute. (He means to intimidate, but PATRICK is a stone.) PATRICK You must not watch my show at all. REGINALD takes a moment to collect himself, with even just the slightest and temporary glimpse of fear in that he may have met his mental match, and has already lost the fight, also collecting his briefcase before he I told you no more trains. At the risk of sounding obnoxious, I've started ignoring all the voices in my head— Even though they're always right. fuck! REGINALD pauses, takes a deep breath while opening the door before looking back over his shoulder. REGINALD I must not. He walks out and immediately slams the door behind him. PATRICK, as if still in the eye of the camera remains calm, although, just the glimmer of fire in his eyes reflect the battle has yet been won. But as we all know by now, He will win the fight. The television people, season four I can't stand these fuckin hoes; Two days off in your hole Offers you a whole new perspective Of your own God complex; You're better off alone, Dead, Or on prescription medicines For all those thoughts in your head Like the bullet holes left from the gun That is poor and alone And just not having money. Confidence lost with a look, And you're sure you just should have gone come But the court office closes its doors at 4:30 And you've been done wrong Four long lost lovers over, It not about that, but motorcycles It's not about reps, It's about cycles I'm one our Peloton down And a whole world to go While you morons just on and on Won't stop talking Here's to disturbing your peace at the equinox And anywhere else you rest your rotten core, You dirty who're— What's it costs for love? Not a whole lot, Don't you see that I'm struggled in Brooklyn? Fuck this whole raw sewage garbage bucket If I gargle hard enough I'll just throw up But you push all the bottles and straws to the end of the curb And the colored sand blacks to the outskirts So we work harder It's a ocean of no But you know not what it does not to know me So below your own suffering goes the call of the crow just before dawn Mx To drop out Cool I don't want to be here I just want a surfboard Apparently it's your year But I'd slit my wrists for Harvard Yeah, it is— that kind of hurt Yes, it is that kind of pain The corvette stole your very favorite colors And your name That sort of wickedness, Just before it ends The candles flickers and the winter's coming in atop the l marble kitchen counters All right, all yours Patched up, or in the poorhouse Compliments to the chef, of course, compliments to the chef. Gotta go to the court house Of course cause I'm black So it's automatically implied I just don't work hard enough Or just ain't made the cut My momma was a dancer, not an athlete My momma made me fat and now I can't do that either If I'm the other black girl In a room full of white men I automatically become “The ugly one” So then I'm off. What's the point of coming here? A black book? A black box? Try to run me off out of the equinox on Walter Well done. I should not have wrote about it Lil bitz My son accused me of being in the Illuminati. He's 9. How do you even respond to that? I love my son, He's like really, really… fat. It's okay— I kinda like it; he's fat, I used to be fat; So we talk about fat people shit. Like McDonald's. And ham. lol This lady on the subway leaned on my hand on the pole. And I mean like really leaned into it, With her whole body weight. I just came from the gym, I been up all night, And she like— Leaned. Like, you know I didn't say shit, I just let it happen, But inside I'm like, WHY ARE YOU TOUCHHING MEEEEEEEEE?!!?!? WHY ARE YOU TOUCHING ME?! This train is not full. I don't think you understand. I just came out the steam room. I am the equivalent of fresh and pressed. Then she's just gon Leeeean. FUCK THAT. STOP TOUCHING MEEEEE. but like irl I'm just standing there like, No protest. Inside: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! STOP IT! Outside: [nothing] Chroma111. 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

Not even a wisper of collision penetrates explicitly this inclusion; Segmented and represented this disarray of miserable approval, And, abject, Or i object, I guess To that which is to say Today is in between the ordinary and disarray, To make arrangements; A solemn display of effect and intent of regression, And yet without all clear disrespect to port or establishment; Still here are there words and where there was love, no more— none for her but then around, within arousal stands as that, to which has since been lost, If not to time, another concept thus by force unknown, to with and withstand habitat for circumstantial evidence of coincidence, But yet arbitrary and then dismayed for short or arc, There this, no more her words for flower, more of words to thus embark. Still time, Very well, my breath, for I have opened a foreign chapter— Then with the way you say, you wore our out, In time you are uncovered for her drugs and left to smuggle over-under— Therefore when that said time has come, you know to form the drift to wait, And yet lack still this patience I have tamed you many acres since the ancients fell upon there ails; There pitting since sunk and crucial to this, and our time is not lost nor won, disheveled making prayers for sense and dollar signs; No have no more barren chest and thought of songs, much less a found the words for songs as though my love has crept upon the rock, That dusk and dawn, the ocean licks with parched tongue. Scare her dry and feast and fragile and evidence remained as these as words and thoughts, The truths would tell the tale for every way. With each drift scattered mark, upon those boats with sails above known not as white but also many colors of the brethren cut from clothes of all apart and none of one, for this, her maritime. {Enter The Multiverse} I opened right to Debbie downer; I got medicine for your habit (I got the remedy in the form of a secret, But the misery is in keeping it) I got a kind heart, I did some mai tai, Should have learned some thai chi As if I took some matcha Or chai tea Caffeine Adrenaline I got a kind heart Adderall instead of Ritalin Entry level access Salary yellow fashion, Intercept, invest Inception, redirect Service elevator, eh; She don't live here no more But where she is? Couldn't tell you. What's the story On a ten star war. No more Harvard, Purple hearted general, General admission to a festival? Just miss me that that bullshit. For your pleasure, Every crevice just has pressure in it— Now I get it I hypnotized myself, I guess The ribbon Blue belt I should be cleaning instead of half sleeping; I keep explaining myself thinking somebody can hear me When they obviously can't. I've been screaming silently for seven seconds, Several years I think on other planets Pull your hair back in a bun And then you'll learn, I guess I passed out cold upon the stand That was the plan, I guess Much slower to close than to open, Although, I know I pop-button broke the code before But still no low moral summoning (Sorry, product) Still no low road or mud throwing No more home She's 32 and 3 months older But looks much longer And harder, tired Must have body or Motive Must have body Or bad intentions Take a man, and write a book about it Take a man, and write a book about it I call that a thirst trap I call that a thirst trap. She must no longer Prim and proper But the work is never over, Show us all the roots, and know the knowledge But don't talk or comment on it I was “almost” once And I was honest twice Three times, you're a liar Mister, honor, pleasure, Fisher wife And never leather, Tipping tethered, Tied to rock and kite And lock and key For here and there Forbearance, rather Here for never ever after Amen and then some L E G E N D S I told you Jimmy Fallon was a Skrillex. I know. What's worse: Skrillex is a Jimmy Fallon. Oh, that is worse. yO iT iS pRoGrEsSiVeLy WOrSE: Is this what you wanted? The awful destruction of constructs— Click, boom— Knife, gun, Add an axe, Bind the axel, Excellent, Put the prejudice inside your head ahead (We brought it back) Put the Edipus complex To this effect Upon a platter Silver as the gun at stake, And raise the hand that shouldn't matter After that? You won. Four tries; Six goons, Four Gods, One white ther I have Two white coats and misters, hot coals Dark fires, have ones, Six mazes, one center On your mark “The Dark Forest” Ugh I hate this one, Get set Don't forget, we all died here. We all crisis, We all Christ. Goosebumps, right? Gimmie that kite! You dumb son of a bitch! GO! Check it out! I look like Kim Kardashian. But you smell like Kim Chi. Yooo that joke took me like 2 months to write down! I know huh! [The Festival Project ™] I looked for something on Hulu to watch for so long that I almost ate my entire dinner without clicking on something. Finally, I find something that interests me, which is just a graphic of a television set and some color palette by now that is somewhat of a calling card for me. So I get there, And it is of interests, And yet of course the unexplainable anomaly of this, is that, no matter how far I try to run l He just keeps coming back. ‘Like this is crazy.' I never found myself agreeing with Louis C.K. about anything at all, and personally and particularly, I never found him funny, until, that was the sudden realization that the same array of betrayal, anger, and agony fueled by rage and jealousy had taken over he and I and many others probably, when introduced to the possibility of having to share the same reality with a head of hair and a face like that. I might have mustered a “my sentiments exactly” though silently before taking in to my own wonder and amazement that twice in one week, besides skipping over the algorithmic traps in my sidebar which I treated like little land mines or time bombs, but mostly allotted to my own Internet history of my uninhabited viewing, as it seemed I'd been most preoccupied in rerouting this energy into a fascination with TV programming, giving me the satiety for the comfort and familiarity in something; and I was with some some kind of certainty I knew alluded to the old adage of mother knowing everything. Even if everything hadn't happened yet, actually, or maybe it had. This strange sort of desire however was some sort of weakness, with the ability to have a fixation for a desire without any way of actually getting it. As she used to say. “Having champagne taste, but beer money.” [so I avoid it because it makes me angry.] Sometimes even, tearfully angry, and it made me feel so uncontrollably adolescent that I would have equated it to the hysteria of beetlemania; screaming and clawing and aching and chasing for this being that was so notably out of reach. Worse off, I'd realized in this running from what seemed was chasing me was how common I was in this feeling, [] To my demise. In this sense, the safety of this entire being and any alike, was that I could seek logic in my jealousy by rationalizing not attaching to a certain subject sexually or otherwise. But this basis in the contempt of familiarity was really rather irritating, in that it seemed as simple as having an awareness of this seeing all the time, to the point that I became a subconscious aching for [something], blossoming into the actual conscious awareness out of the repressive need for something I no longer had and always wanted: [The Festival Project ™] And for for this, I considered it a sort of sickness that I couldn't seem to tear away from it, but also something that had happened very naturally, and now had unearthed an entire cavern of secrets I could be found no where writing or even very rarely thinking them. Thoughts or ideas worth protecting and the kind of code that goes about saying nothing, looking the other way, keeping your mouth shut and hiding or guarding with your life. But media, or the eye that seems to see all lately had been poking at it, maybe because I wasn't. Maybe because I spent an hour at a time four day a week with [a less than separate set of characters] —or big brother, if you will, in a safe and respectable distance and admiration [] Where I could at a certain pace study this sort of programming without anything having to be reflective of the life I wasn't living— the sex I wasn't having. Watching the ABC version of late night programming was allowing me to focus on the other things I needed— being very skinny, and crossing one leg over the other and sitting pretty; while also showing me another side of a suit and tie that was interesting— The ability to be invisible, and also say many things without talking, for anyone paying attention to the complex series of things very often overlooked by a normal onlooker or audience, Which I was, and wasn't— because I was looking for something. The mind boggling thing to me was, by watching, I was actually finding it. [The Festival Project ™] —Death of a Superstar DJ As Seen on TV The Television People “Puzzle Pieces” I don't want anything I don't want anyone Conflated circumstance Oh, it was was just a nut— Got it and now it's gone Pulled it all off at the thought It was Thunderous But now I got it together I don't want anyone Especially not a poor boy No I'm not alone, boy I got my kitty Pet the cat and love my pussy, So it's really not a mystery I don't need him, or anybody really Miss me with that shit That's a pretty promise and a big redaction Deadass I stepped into my ballet shoe And onto shards of glass I guess that's on pointe But off topic Co-ed saunabody shopping I show up at Equinox But only when I want (On proxy) I protect my heart (On God) I don't want nobody really. One one-off on Wall Street, brother Don't bother calling back Don't got my number, Not a problem Not my name Or my address Cause if you did You'd be depressed like I am. Now we're getting dressed You take a cab I take the train Just another day of training But my life. Is steady draining There's no use in even explaining myself I guess I'm selfish Like dental floss for Christmas Or shellfish for the kitty But for me just friuits and veggies You don't notice? I love nobody, Cause nobody could love me Now I'm over it Now I'm over it Now I'm over it But you know the cost I was nothing Now I want Nothing Nobody love me I don't want nobody, No I'm not sorry How they're swarming on my GPS location With these second rate bit glitches I stay sleeping in my kitch But I'll never rest, I guess Until theirs justice Said that. {Enter The Multiverse} Excerpt: The Television People (TVP) Season 4 © The Complex Collevtivd [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights Reserved REGINALD Would you kill your prostitute for one million dollars? PATRICK Why would you ask me that? REGINALD That's an odd answer. I'd expect your response to be somewhere along the lines of denial of— ever having a prostitute. PATRICK I'm a talk show host. REGINALD Is that supposed to mean something? PATRICK There are certain societal assumptions. REGINALD Do you find yourself—befitting to any of those stereotypes? PATRICK I don't find myself “befitting” at all. REGINALD You know, local [charters of our office] — (But Patrick speaks quickly and with dominance to cut him off.) PATRICK Now that I know what you are— REGINALD You mean “who”? PATRICK I mean “what”; why make and owl's cry in response to a dog's bark? [a realization between the both of them is immidiately found; this sort of language has implied they are belonging to the same branch of THE EYE which acts above the law; it is a fair fight— and now they this phrase has been established, there are now rules written or unspoken which can be applied here.] REGINALD cocks his head and forces an awkward smirk. REGINALD Very well. I am quite the trouble maker; I am mischief, I am danger, I am Chaos, I am leveled I am honored, I am damned I am also coming making day of peace and hallowed are you; I am also coming waves of needing peace to which I bound to. So sparrow coming grace and peace and giving, Made and tied, Though had you not the ever presence or the record for the time, So then you too shall wander, mercilessly to and fro and all about, And here and there but never where my value has been gathered. So for that, the dust is set, And said and twisted, never making bread for peace And dead for death, and craving this, to set of force her Having made my honor there, and lying in the wit and willow, weathered veins and weathervane, And twisting wind of fate and fortune. So, my mind and tressure buried there for gains and white, her shadow Barren in the east, and in the west her mortuary; Seeking sane and crypt but tied and kept for thithered foust and fouling, Butter turned to brittle, May, September, Then another serpent— More to moulf and wept her slated dream for keeping broken bear in, There the wake had frozen into lake and also leather boxes, For what will of what I am and is her fare not wearing any; Though the mister winds of east and west had set her onward any. Lemons and limes, though— Taking my time, soured Never with water, sugar But chest without pride; There in the wake marked and marched o. Her army, Not to yawn or buyoer billow, Porridge feathered, Cream and none for part her hunger There though, then were the marks And the found of the wicked past; Ties there and fire would have her mark upon the dungeon throne, Weeping here though on the floor for flour Every hour passed as I, come creeping with the forest feathered, dimmed the basket having cut from tethered grass, I. And now we wait though them, here, The marshmellow and willow not having woken, Though Monday, for total control of her honor, Contorted. Then came, seeking guild and weight and force, The fear and wind though wish to pull apart the storm had gathered, fell apart itself, Though sit not back and then became as strong, a pebble which from dust became an avalanche at once, through windows past, I— Marked one forest, and one warm summer, And one forest, and good quilt, did slither, and then making in the forest, I, for did I run As yet to suffer also. Yo where the fuck am I going. Alright, airtight we want and something foraged from nothing in her name, And this the time that tells itself for life and health In other ways besides your own. Don't cough. For those who either suffering or lost know of your forces and so sure does come the rock that turned from stone in forests over, So you sure too shall come another, Poor and hurt but soon to suffer, Also. tisk- tisk The risk my friends is running wise, The coyotes running wild for find that lone and feathered friend, To which has flight with all the know that he, and friends are feasts of foe and so these might and waves of time are sure to grow into another. Right on. So I write on and then, the missed and uninformed becomes again the death I recommended. Ten till ten tales and also please give, and whistle whalfolks under our time which has lost mine and all others. So tempted there come gathered, weeping Feathers at her slaughtered as palms, Weight beyond the brow and below the belt to which that called her— Devil's mate and crater for the fate but fame at heart earned, casting shadows over which has lost its appetite, for now becalmed her hunger. Her hunger. Her hunger. REGINALD's tone changes entirely— if at first it may have been a playful game (and it wasn't) now it is serious— crucial, even. REGINALD Why did you do it? PATRICK I wouldn't do something like that… REGINALD —something like what? PATRICK realizes quickly he's been playing over in his mind that has not yet fully been realized on the surface of the conversation— it was an honest answer, but still implicit, and so in this moment of self awareness and realization, also of stunning showman and marksmanship, a certain light comes on as if the camera has been directed at him; his entire mask comes on at once, and no longer can the reminisce of an honest thought be detected. He has become a wall. PATRICK To follow up on your first question. Which was odd— REGINALD About killing your prostitute. (He means to intimidate, but PATRICK is a stone.) PATRICK You must not watch my show at all. REGINALD takes a moment to collect himself, with even just the slightest and temporary glimpse of fear in that he may have met his mental match, and has already lost the fight, also collecting his briefcase before he I told you no more trains. At the risk of sounding obnoxious, I've started ignoring all the voices in my head— Even though they're always right. fuck! REGINALD pauses, takes a deep breath while opening the door before looking back over his shoulder. REGINALD I must not. He walks out and immediately slams the door behind him. PATRICK, as if still in the eye of the camera remains calm, although, just the glimmer of fire in his eyes reflect the battle has yet been won. But as we all know by now, He will win the fight. The television people, season four I can't stand these fuckin hoes; Two days off in your hole Offers you a whole new perspective Of your own God complex; You're better off alone, Dead, Or on prescription medicines For all those thoughts in your head Like the bullet holes left from the gun That is poor and alone And just not having money. Confidence lost with a look, And you're sure you just should have gone come But the court office closes its doors at 4:30 And you've been done wrong Four long lost lovers over, It not about that, but motorcycles It's not about reps, It's about cycles I'm one our Peloton down And a whole world to go While you morons just on and on Won't stop talking Here's to disturbing your peace at the equinox And anywhere else you rest your rotten core, You dirty who're— What's it costs for love? Not a whole lot, Don't you see that I'm struggled in Brooklyn? Fuck this whole raw sewage garbage bucket If I gargle hard enough I'll just throw up But you push all the bottles and straws to the end of the curb And the colored sand blacks to the outskirts So we work harder It's a ocean of no But you know not what it does not to know me So below your own suffering goes the call of the crow just before dawn Mx To drop out Cool I don't want to be here I just want a surfboard Apparently it's your year But I'd slit my wrists for Harvard Yeah, it is— that kind of hurt Yes, it is that kind of pain The corvette stole your very favorite colors And your name That sort of wickedness, Just before it ends The candles flickers and the winter's coming in atop the l marble kitchen counters All right, all yours Patched up, or in the poorhouse Compliments to the chef, of course, compliments to the chef. Gotta go to the court house Of course cause I'm black So it's automatically implied I just don't work hard enough Or just ain't made the cut My momma was a dancer, not an athlete My momma made me fat and now I can't do that either If I'm the other black girl In a room full of white men I automatically become “The ugly one” So then I'm off. What's the point of coming here? A black book? A black box? Try to run me off out of the equinox on Walter Well done. I should not have wrote about it Lil bitz My son accused me of being in the Illuminati. He's 9. How do you even respond to that? I love my son, He's like really, really… fat. It's okay— I kinda like it; he's fat, I used to be fat; So we talk about fat people shit. Like McDonald's. And ham. lol This lady on the subway leaned on my hand on the pole. And I mean like really leaned into it, With her whole body weight. I just came from the gym, I been up all night, And she like— Leaned. Like, you know I didn't say shit, I just let it happen, But inside I'm like, WHY ARE YOU TOUCHHING MEEEEEEEEE?!!?!? WHY ARE YOU TOUCHING ME?! This train is not full. I don't think you understand. I just came out the steam room. I am the equivalent of fresh and pressed. Then she's just gon Leeeean. FUCK THAT. STOP TOUCHING MEEEEE. but like irl I'm just standing there like, No protest. Inside: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! STOP IT! Outside: [nothing] Chroma111. 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

Not even a wisper of collision penetrates explicitly this inclusion; Segmented and represented this disarray of miserable approval, And, abject, Or i object, I guess To that which is to say Today is in between the ordinary and disarray, To make arrangements; A solemn display of effect and intent of regression, And yet without all clear disrespect to port or establishment; Still here are there words and where there was love, no more— none for her but then around, within arousal stands as that, to which has since been lost, If not to time, another concept thus by force unknown, to with and withstand habitat for circumstantial evidence of coincidence, But yet arbitrary and then dismayed for short or arc, There this, no more her words for flower, more of words to thus embark. Still time, Very well, my breath, for I have opened a foreign chapter— Then with the way you say, you wore our out, In time you are uncovered for her drugs and left to smuggle over-under— Therefore when that said time has come, you know to form the drift to wait, And yet lack still this patience I have tamed you many acres since the ancients fell upon there ails; There pitting since sunk and crucial to this, and our time is not lost nor won, disheveled making prayers for sense and dollar signs; No have no more barren chest and thought of songs, much less a found the words for songs as though my love has crept upon the rock, That dusk and dawn, the ocean licks with parched tongue. Scare her dry and feast and fragile and evidence remained as these as words and thoughts, The truths would tell the tale for every way. With each drift scattered mark, upon those boats with sails above known not as white but also many colors of the brethren cut from clothes of all apart and none of one, for this, her maritime. {Enter The Multiverse} I opened right to Debbie downer; I got medicine for your habit (I got the remedy in the form of a secret, But the misery is in keeping it) I got a kind heart, I did some mai tai, Should have learned some thai chi As if I took some matcha Or chai tea Caffeine Adrenaline I got a kind heart Adderall instead of Ritalin Entry level access Salary yellow fashion, Intercept, invest Inception, redirect Service elevator, eh; She don't live here no more But where she is? Couldn't tell you. What's the story On a ten star war. No more Harvard, Purple hearted general, General admission to a festival? Just miss me that that bullshit. For your pleasure, Every crevice just has pressure in it— Now I get it I hypnotized myself, I guess The ribbon Blue belt I should be cleaning instead of half sleeping; I keep explaining myself thinking somebody can hear me When they obviously can't. I've been screaming silently for seven seconds, Several years I think on other planets Pull your hair back in a bun And then you'll learn, I guess I passed out cold upon the stand That was the plan, I guess Much slower to close than to open, Although, I know I pop-button broke the code before But still no low moral summoning (Sorry, product) Still no low road or mud throwing No more home She's 32 and 3 months older But looks much longer And harder, tired Must have body or Motive Must have body Or bad intentions Take a man, and write a book about it Take a man, and write a book about it I call that a thirst trap I call that a thirst trap. She must no longer Prim and proper But the work is never over, Show us all the roots, and know the knowledge But don't talk or comment on it I was “almost” once And I was honest twice Three times, you're a liar Mister, honor, pleasure, Fisher wife And never leather, Tipping tethered, Tied to rock and kite And lock and key For here and there Forbearance, rather Here for never ever after Amen and then some L E G E N D S I told you Jimmy Fallon was a Skrillex. I know. What's worse: Skrillex is a Jimmy Fallon. Oh, that is worse. yO iT iS pRoGrEsSiVeLy WOrSE: Is this what you wanted? The awful destruction of constructs— Click, boom— Knife, gun, Add an axe, Bind the axel, Excellent, Put the prejudice inside your head ahead (We brought it back) Put the Edipus complex To this effect Upon a platter Silver as the gun at stake, And raise the hand that shouldn't matter After that? You won. Four tries; Six goons, Four Gods, One white ther I have Two white coats and misters, hot coals Dark fires, have ones, Six mazes, one center On your mark “The Dark Forest” Ugh I hate this one, Get set Don't forget, we all died here. We all crisis, We all Christ. Goosebumps, right? Gimmie that kite! You dumb son of a bitch! GO! Check it out! I look like Kim Kardashian. But you smell like Kim Chi. Yooo that joke took me like 2 months to write down! I know huh! [The Festival Project ™] I looked for something on Hulu to watch for so long that I almost ate my entire dinner without clicking on something. Finally, I find something that interests me, which is just a graphic of a television set and some color palette by now that is somewhat of a calling card for me. So I get there, And it is of interests, And yet of course the unexplainable anomaly of this, is that, no matter how far I try to run l He just keeps coming back. ‘Like this is crazy.' I never found myself agreeing with Louis C.K. about anything at all, and personally and particularly, I never found him funny, until, that was the sudden realization that the same array of betrayal, anger, and agony fueled by rage and jealousy had taken over he and I and many others probably, when introduced to the possibility of having to share the same reality with a head of hair and a face like that. I might have mustered a “my sentiments exactly” though silently before taking in to my own wonder and amazement that twice in one week, besides skipping over the algorithmic traps in my sidebar which I treated like little land mines or time bombs, but mostly allotted to my own Internet history of my uninhabited viewing, as it seemed I'd been most preoccupied in rerouting this energy into a fascination with TV programming, giving me the satiety for the comfort and familiarity in something; and I was with some some kind of certainty I knew alluded to the old adage of mother knowing everything. Even if everything hadn't happened yet, actually, or maybe it had. This strange sort of desire however was some sort of weakness, with the ability to have a fixation for a desire without any way of actually getting it. As she used to say. “Having champagne taste, but beer money.” [so I avoid it because it makes me angry.] Sometimes even, tearfully angry, and it made me feel so uncontrollably adolescent that I would have equated it to the hysteria of beetlemania; screaming and clawing and aching and chasing for this being that was so notably out of reach. Worse off, I'd realized in this running from what seemed was chasing me was how common I was in this feeling, [] To my demise. In this sense, the safety of this entire being and any alike, was that I could seek logic in my jealousy by rationalizing not attaching to a certain subject sexually or otherwise. But this basis in the contempt of familiarity was really rather irritating, in that it seemed as simple as having an awareness of this seeing all the time, to the point that I became a subconscious aching for [something], blossoming into the actual conscious awareness out of the repressive need for something I no longer had and always wanted: [The Festival Project ™] And for for this, I considered it a sort of sickness that I couldn't seem to tear away from it, but also something that had happened very naturally, and now had unearthed an entire cavern of secrets I could be found no where writing or even very rarely thinking them. Thoughts or ideas worth protecting and the kind of code that goes about saying nothing, looking the other way, keeping your mouth shut and hiding or guarding with your life. But media, or the eye that seems to see all lately had been poking at it, maybe because I wasn't. Maybe because I spent an hour at a time four day a week with [a less than separate set of characters] —or big brother, if you will, in a safe and respectable distance and admiration [] Where I could at a certain pace study this sort of programming without anything having to be reflective of the life I wasn't living— the sex I wasn't having. Watching the ABC version of late night programming was allowing me to focus on the other things I needed— being very skinny, and crossing one leg over the other and sitting pretty; while also showing me another side of a suit and tie that was interesting— The ability to be invisible, and also say many things without talking, for anyone paying attention to the complex series of things very often overlooked by a normal onlooker or audience, Which I was, and wasn't— because I was looking for something. The mind boggling thing to me was, by watching, I was actually finding it. [The Festival Project ™] —Death of a Superstar DJ As Seen on TV The Television People “Puzzle Pieces” I don't want anything I don't want anyone Conflated circumstance Oh, it was was just a nut— Got it and now it's gone Pulled it all off at the thought It was Thunderous But now I got it together I don't want anyone Especially not a poor boy No I'm not alone, boy I got my kitty Pet the cat and love my pussy, So it's really not a mystery I don't need him, or anybody really Miss me with that shit That's a pretty promise and a big redaction Deadass I stepped into my ballet shoe And onto shards of glass I guess that's on pointe But off topic Co-ed saunabody shopping I show up at Equinox But only when I want (On proxy) I protect my heart (On God) I don't want nobody really. One one-off on Wall Street, brother Don't bother calling back Don't got my number, Not a problem Not my name Or my address Cause if you did You'd be depressed like I am. Now we're getting dressed You take a cab I take the train Just another day of training But my life. Is steady draining There's no use in even explaining myself I guess I'm selfish Like dental floss for Christmas Or shellfish for the kitty But for me just friuits and veggies You don't notice? I love nobody, Cause nobody could love me Now I'm over it Now I'm over it Now I'm over it But you know the cost I was nothing Now I want Nothing Nobody love me I don't want nobody, No I'm not sorry How they're swarming on my GPS location With these second rate bit glitches I stay sleeping in my kitch But I'll never rest, I guess Until theirs justice Said that. {Enter The Multiverse} Excerpt: The Television People (TVP) Season 4 © The Complex Collevtivd [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights Reserved REGINALD Would you kill your prostitute for one million dollars? PATRICK Why would you ask me that? REGINALD That's an odd answer. I'd expect your response to be somewhere along the lines of denial of— ever having a prostitute. PATRICK I'm a talk show host. REGINALD Is that supposed to mean something? PATRICK There are certain societal assumptions. REGINALD Do you find yourself—befitting to any of those stereotypes? PATRICK I don't find myself “befitting” at all. REGINALD You know, local [charters of our office] — (But Patrick speaks quickly and with dominance to cut him off.) PATRICK Now that I know what you are— REGINALD You mean “who”? PATRICK I mean “what”; why make and owl's cry in response to a dog's bark? [a realization between the both of them is immidiately found; this sort of language has implied they are belonging to the same branch of THE EYE which acts above the law; it is a fair fight— and now they this phrase has been established, there are now rules written or unspoken which can be applied here.] REGINALD cocks his head and forces an awkward smirk. REGINALD Very well. I am quite the trouble maker; I am mischief, I am danger, I am Chaos, I am leveled I am honored, I am damned I am also coming making day of peace and hallowed are you; I am also coming waves of needing peace to which I bound to. So sparrow coming grace and peace and giving, Made and tied, Though had you not the ever presence or the record for the time, So then you too shall wander, mercilessly to and fro and all about, And here and there but never where my value has been gathered. So for that, the dust is set, And said and twisted, never making bread for peace And dead for death, and craving this, to set of force her Having made my honor there, and lying in the wit and willow, weathered veins and weathervane, And twisting wind of fate and fortune. So, my mind and tressure buried there for gains and white, her shadow Barren in the east, and in the west her mortuary; Seeking sane and crypt but tied and kept for thithered foust and fouling, Butter turned to brittle, May, September, Then another serpent— More to moulf and wept her slated dream for keeping broken bear in, There the wake had frozen into lake and also leather boxes, For what will of what I am and is her fare not wearing any; Though the mister winds of east and west had set her onward any. Lemons and limes, though— Taking my time, soured Never with water, sugar But chest without pride; There in the wake marked and marched o. Her army, Not to yawn or buyoer billow, Porridge feathered, Cream and none for part her hunger There though, then were the marks And the found of the wicked past; Ties there and fire would have her mark upon the dungeon throne, Weeping here though on the floor for flour Every hour passed as I, come creeping with the forest feathered, dimmed the basket having cut from tethered grass, I. And now we wait though them, here, The marshmellow and willow not having woken, Though Monday, for total control of her honor, Contorted. Then came, seeking guild and weight and force, The fear and wind though wish to pull apart the storm had gathered, fell apart itself, Though sit not back and then became as strong, a pebble which from dust became an avalanche at once, through windows past, I— Marked one forest, and one warm summer, And one forest, and good quilt, did slither, and then making in the forest, I, for did I run As yet to suffer also. Yo where the fuck am I going. Alright, airtight we want and something foraged from nothing in her name, And this the time that tells itself for life and health In other ways besides your own. Don't cough. For those who either suffering or lost know of your forces and so sure does come the rock that turned from stone in forests over, So you sure too shall come another, Poor and hurt but soon to suffer, Also. tisk- tisk The risk my friends is running wise, The coyotes running wild for find that lone and feathered friend, To which has flight with all the know that he, and friends are feasts of foe and so these might and waves of time are sure to grow into another. Right on. So I write on and then, the missed and uninformed becomes again the death I recommended. Ten till ten tales and also please give, and whistle whalfolks under our time which has lost mine and all others. So tempted there come gathered, weeping Feathers at her slaughtered as palms, Weight beyond the brow and below the belt to which that called her— Devil's mate and crater for the fate but fame at heart earned, casting shadows over which has lost its appetite, for now becalmed her hunger. Her hunger. Her hunger. REGINALD's tone changes entirely— if at first it may have been a playful game (and it wasn't) now it is serious— crucial, even. REGINALD Why did you do it? PATRICK I wouldn't do something like that… REGINALD —something like what? PATRICK realizes quickly he's been playing over in his mind that has not yet fully been realized on the surface of the conversation— it was an honest answer, but still implicit, and so in this moment of self awareness and realization, also of stunning showman and marksmanship, a certain light comes on as if the camera has been directed at him; his entire mask comes on at once, and no longer can the reminisce of an honest thought be detected. He has become a wall. PATRICK To follow up on your first question. Which was odd— REGINALD About killing your prostitute. (He means to intimidate, but PATRICK is a stone.) PATRICK You must not watch my show at all. REGINALD takes a moment to collect himself, with even just the slightest and temporary glimpse of fear in that he may have met his mental match, and has already lost the fight, also collecting his briefcase before he I told you no more trains. At the risk of sounding obnoxious, I've started ignoring all the voices in my head— Even though they're always right. fuck! REGINALD pauses, takes a deep breath while opening the door before looking back over his shoulder. REGINALD I must not. He walks out and immediately slams the door behind him. PATRICK, as if still in the eye of the camera remains calm, although, just the glimmer of fire in his eyes reflect the battle has yet been won. But as we all know by now, He will win the fight. The television people, season four I can't stand these fuckin hoes; Two days off in your hole Offers you a whole new perspective Of your own God complex; You're better off alone, Dead, Or on prescription medicines For all those thoughts in your head Like the bullet holes left from the gun That is poor and alone And just not having money. Confidence lost with a look, And you're sure you just should have gone come But the court office closes its doors at 4:30 And you've been done wrong Four long lost lovers over, It not about that, but motorcycles It's not about reps, It's about cycles I'm one our Peloton down And a whole world to go While you morons just on and on Won't stop talking Here's to disturbing your peace at the equinox And anywhere else you rest your rotten core, You dirty who're— What's it costs for love? Not a whole lot, Don't you see that I'm struggled in Brooklyn? Fuck this whole raw sewage garbage bucket If I gargle hard enough I'll just throw up But you push all the bottles and straws to the end of the curb And the colored sand blacks to the outskirts So we work harder It's a ocean of no But you know not what it does not to know me So below your own suffering goes the call of the crow just before dawn Mx To drop out Cool I don't want to be here I just want a surfboard Apparently it's your year But I'd slit my wrists for Harvard Yeah, it is— that kind of hurt Yes, it is that kind of pain The corvette stole your very favorite colors And your name That sort of wickedness, Just before it ends The candles flickers and the winter's coming in atop the l marble kitchen counters All right, all yours Patched up, or in the poorhouse Compliments to the chef, of course, compliments to the chef. Gotta go to the court house Of course cause I'm black So it's automatically implied I just don't work hard enough Or just ain't made the cut My momma was a dancer, not an athlete My momma made me fat and now I can't do that either If I'm the other black girl In a room full of white men I automatically become “The ugly one” So then I'm off. What's the point of coming here? A black book? A black box? Try to run me off out of the equinox on Walter Well done. I should not have wrote about it Lil bitz My son accused me of being in the Illuminati. He's 9. How do you even respond to that? I love my son, He's like really, really… fat. It's okay— I kinda like it; he's fat, I used to be fat; So we talk about fat people shit. Like McDonald's. And ham. lol This lady on the subway leaned on my hand on the pole. And I mean like really leaned into it, With her whole body weight. I just came from the gym, I been up all night, And she like— Leaned. Like, you know I didn't say shit, I just let it happen, But inside I'm like, WHY ARE YOU TOUCHHING MEEEEEEEEE?!!?!? WHY ARE YOU TOUCHING ME?! This train is not full. I don't think you understand. I just came out the steam room. I am the equivalent of fresh and pressed. Then she's just gon Leeeean. FUCK THAT. STOP TOUCHING MEEEEE. but like irl I'm just standing there like, No protest. Inside: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! STOP IT! Outside: [nothing] Chroma111. 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

Not even a wisper of collision penetrates explicitly this inclusion; Segmented and represented this disarray of miserable approval, And, abject, Or i object, I guess To that which is to say Today is in between the ordinary and disarray, To make arrangements; A solemn display of effect and intent of regression, And yet without all clear disrespect to port or establishment; Still here are there words and where there was love, no more— none for her but then around, within arousal stands as that, to which has since been lost, If not to time, another concept thus by force unknown, to with and withstand habitat for circumstantial evidence of coincidence, But yet arbitrary and then dismayed for short or arc, There this, no more her words for flower, more of words to thus embark. Still time, Very well, my breath, for I have opened a foreign chapter— Then with the way you say, you wore our out, In time you are uncovered for her drugs and left to smuggle over-under— Therefore when that said time has come, you know to form the drift to wait, And yet lack still this patience I have tamed you many acres since the ancients fell upon there ails; There pitting since sunk and crucial to this, and our time is not lost nor won, disheveled making prayers for sense and dollar signs; No have no more barren chest and thought of songs, much less a found the words for songs as though my love has crept upon the rock, That dusk and dawn, the ocean licks with parched tongue. Scare her dry and feast and fragile and evidence remained as these as words and thoughts, The truths would tell the tale for every way. With each drift scattered mark, upon those boats with sails above known not as white but also many colors of the brethren cut from clothes of all apart and none of one, for this, her maritime. {Enter The Multiverse} I opened right to Debbie downer; I got medicine for your habit (I got the remedy in the form of a secret, But the misery is in keeping it) I got a kind heart, I did some mai tai, Should have learned some thai chi As if I took some matcha Or chai tea Caffeine Adrenaline I got a kind heart Adderall instead of Ritalin Entry level access Salary yellow fashion, Intercept, invest Inception, redirect Service elevator, eh; She don't live here no more But where she is? Couldn't tell you. What's the story On a ten star war. No more Harvard, Purple hearted general, General admission to a festival? Just miss me that that bullshit. For your pleasure, Every crevice just has pressure in it— Now I get it I hypnotized myself, I guess The ribbon Blue belt I should be cleaning instead of half sleeping; I keep explaining myself thinking somebody can hear me When they obviously can't. I've been screaming silently for seven seconds, Several years I think on other planets Pull your hair back in a bun And then you'll learn, I guess I passed out cold upon the stand That was the plan, I guess Much slower to close than to open, Although, I know I pop-button broke the code before But still no low moral summoning (Sorry, product) Still no low road or mud throwing No more home She's 32 and 3 months older But looks much longer And harder, tired Must have body or Motive Must have body Or bad intentions Take a man, and write a book about it Take a man, and write a book about it I call that a thirst trap I call that a thirst trap. She must no longer Prim and proper But the work is never over, Show us all the roots, and know the knowledge But don't talk or comment on it I was “almost” once And I was honest twice Three times, you're a liar Mister, honor, pleasure, Fisher wife And never leather, Tipping tethered, Tied to rock and kite And lock and key For here and there Forbearance, rather Here for never ever after Amen and then some L E G E N D S I told you Jimmy Fallon was a Skrillex. I know. What's worse: Skrillex is a Jimmy Fallon. Oh, that is worse. yO iT iS pRoGrEsSiVeLy WOrSE: Is this what you wanted? The awful destruction of constructs— Click, boom— Knife, gun, Add an axe, Bind the axel, Excellent, Put the prejudice inside your head ahead (We brought it back) Put the Edipus complex To this effect Upon a platter Silver as the gun at stake, And raise the hand that shouldn't matter After that? You won. Four tries; Six goons, Four Gods, One white ther I have Two white coats and misters, hot coals Dark fires, have ones, Six mazes, one center On your mark “The Dark Forest” Ugh I hate this one, Get set Don't forget, we all died here. We all crisis, We all Christ. Goosebumps, right? Gimmie that kite! You dumb son of a bitch! GO! Check it out! I look like Kim Kardashian. But you smell like Kim Chi. Yooo that joke took me like 2 months to write down! I know huh! [The Festival Project ™] I looked for something on Hulu to watch for so long that I almost ate my entire dinner without clicking on something. Finally, I find something that interests me, which is just a graphic of a television set and some color palette by now that is somewhat of a calling card for me. So I get there, And it is of interests, And yet of course the unexplainable anomaly of this, is that, no matter how far I try to run l He just keeps coming back. ‘Like this is crazy.' I never found myself agreeing with Louis C.K. about anything at all, and personally and particularly, I never found him funny, until, that was the sudden realization that the same array of betrayal, anger, and agony fueled by rage and jealousy had taken over he and I and many others probably, when introduced to the possibility of having to share the same reality with a head of hair and a face like that. I might have mustered a “my sentiments exactly” though silently before taking in to my own wonder and amazement that twice in one week, besides skipping over the algorithmic traps in my sidebar which I treated like little land mines or time bombs, but mostly allotted to my own Internet history of my uninhabited viewing, as it seemed I'd been most preoccupied in rerouting this energy into a fascination with TV programming, giving me the satiety for the comfort and familiarity in something; and I was with some some kind of certainty I knew alluded to the old adage of mother knowing everything. Even if everything hadn't happened yet, actually, or maybe it had. This strange sort of desire however was some sort of weakness, with the ability to have a fixation for a desire without any way of actually getting it. As she used to say. “Having champagne taste, but beer money.” [so I avoid it because it makes me angry.] Sometimes even, tearfully angry, and it made me feel so uncontrollably adolescent that I would have equated it to the hysteria of beetlemania; screaming and clawing and aching and chasing for this being that was so notably out of reach. Worse off, I'd realized in this running from what seemed was chasing me was how common I was in this feeling, [] To my demise. In this sense, the safety of this entire being and any alike, was that I could seek logic in my jealousy by rationalizing not attaching to a certain subject sexually or otherwise. But this basis in the contempt of familiarity was really rather irritating, in that it seemed as simple as having an awareness of this seeing all the time, to the point that I became a subconscious aching for [something], blossoming into the actual conscious awareness out of the repressive need for something I no longer had and always wanted: [The Festival Project ™] And for for this, I considered it a sort of sickness that I couldn't seem to tear away from it, but also something that had happened very naturally, and now had unearthed an entire cavern of secrets I could be found no where writing or even very rarely thinking them. Thoughts or ideas worth protecting and the kind of code that goes about saying nothing, looking the other way, keeping your mouth shut and hiding or guarding with your life. But media, or the eye that seems to see all lately had been poking at it, maybe because I wasn't. Maybe because I spent an hour at a time four day a week with [a less than separate set of characters] —or big brother, if you will, in a safe and respectable distance and admiration [] Where I could at a certain pace study this sort of programming without anything having to be reflective of the life I wasn't living— the sex I wasn't having. Watching the ABC version of late night programming was allowing me to focus on the other things I needed— being very skinny, and crossing one leg over the other and sitting pretty; while also showing me another side of a suit and tie that was interesting— The ability to be invisible, and also say many things without talking, for anyone paying attention to the complex series of things very often overlooked by a normal onlooker or audience, Which I was, and wasn't— because I was looking for something. The mind boggling thing to me was, by watching, I was actually finding it. [The Festival Project ™] —Death of a Superstar DJ As Seen on TV The Television People “Puzzle Pieces” I don't want anything I don't want anyone Conflated circumstance Oh, it was was just a nut— Got it and now it's gone Pulled it all off at the thought It was Thunderous But now I got it together I don't want anyone Especially not a poor boy No I'm not alone, boy I got my kitty Pet the cat and love my pussy, So it's really not a mystery I don't need him, or anybody really Miss me with that shit That's a pretty promise and a big redaction Deadass I stepped into my ballet shoe And onto shards of glass I guess that's on pointe But off topic Co-ed saunabody shopping I show up at Equinox But only when I want (On proxy) I protect my heart (On God) I don't want nobody really. One one-off on Wall Street, brother Don't bother calling back Don't got my number, Not a problem Not my name Or my address Cause if you did You'd be depressed like I am. Now we're getting dressed You take a cab I take the train Just another day of training But my life. Is steady draining There's no use in even explaining myself I guess I'm selfish Like dental floss for Christmas Or shellfish for the kitty But for me just friuits and veggies You don't notice? I love nobody, Cause nobody could love me Now I'm over it Now I'm over it Now I'm over it But you know the cost I was nothing Now I want Nothing Nobody love me I don't want nobody, No I'm not sorry How they're swarming on my GPS location With these second rate bit glitches I stay sleeping in my kitch But I'll never rest, I guess Until theirs justice Said that. {Enter The Multiverse} Excerpt: The Television People (TVP) Season 4 © The Complex Collevtivd [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights Reserved REGINALD Would you kill your prostitute for one million dollars? PATRICK Why would you ask me that? REGINALD That's an odd answer. I'd expect your response to be somewhere along the lines of denial of— ever having a prostitute. PATRICK I'm a talk show host. REGINALD Is that supposed to mean something? PATRICK There are certain societal assumptions. REGINALD Do you find yourself—befitting to any of those stereotypes? PATRICK I don't find myself “befitting” at all. REGINALD You know, local [charters of our office] — (But Patrick speaks quickly and with dominance to cut him off.) PATRICK Now that I know what you are— REGINALD You mean “who”? PATRICK I mean “what”; why make and owl's cry in response to a dog's bark? [a realization between the both of them is immidiately found; this sort of language has implied they are belonging to the same branch of THE EYE which acts above the law; it is a fair fight— and now they this phrase has been established, there are now rules written or unspoken which can be applied here.] REGINALD cocks his head and forces an awkward smirk. REGINALD Very well. I am quite the trouble maker; I am mischief, I am danger, I am Chaos, I am leveled I am honored, I am damned I am also coming making day of peace and hallowed are you; I am also coming waves of needing peace to which I bound to. So sparrow coming grace and peace and giving, Made and tied, Though had you not the ever presence or the record for the time, So then you too shall wander, mercilessly to and fro and all about, And here and there but never where my value has been gathered. So for that, the dust is set, And said and twisted, never making bread for peace And dead for death, and craving this, to set of force her Having made my honor there, and lying in the wit and willow, weathered veins and weathervane, And twisting wind of fate and fortune. So, my mind and tressure buried there for gains and white, her shadow Barren in the east, and in the west her mortuary; Seeking sane and crypt but tied and kept for thithered foust and fouling, Butter turned to brittle, May, September, Then another serpent— More to moulf and wept her slated dream for keeping broken bear in, There the wake had frozen into lake and also leather boxes, For what will of what I am and is her fare not wearing any; Though the mister winds of east and west had set her onward any. Lemons and limes, though— Taking my time, soured Never with water, sugar But chest without pride; There in the wake marked and marched o. Her army, Not to yawn or buyoer billow, Porridge feathered, Cream and none for part her hunger There though, then were the marks And the found of the wicked past; Ties there and fire would have her mark upon the dungeon throne, Weeping here though on the floor for flour Every hour passed as I, come creeping with the forest feathered, dimmed the basket having cut from tethered grass, I. And now we wait though them, here, The marshmellow and willow not having woken, Though Monday, for total control of her honor, Contorted. Then came, seeking guild and weight and force, The fear and wind though wish to pull apart the storm had gathered, fell apart itself, Though sit not back and then became as strong, a pebble which from dust became an avalanche at once, through windows past, I— Marked one forest, and one warm summer, And one forest, and good quilt, did slither, and then making in the forest, I, for did I run As yet to suffer also. Yo where the fuck am I going. Alright, airtight we want and something foraged from nothing in her name, And this the time that tells itself for life and health In other ways besides your own. Don't cough. For those who either suffering or lost know of your forces and so sure does come the rock that turned from stone in forests over, So you sure too shall come another, Poor and hurt but soon to suffer, Also. tisk- tisk The risk my friends is running wise, The coyotes running wild for find that lone and feathered friend, To which has flight with all the know that he, and friends are feasts of foe and so these might and waves of time are sure to grow into another. Right on. So I write on and then, the missed and uninformed becomes again the death I recommended. Ten till ten tales and also please give, and whistle whalfolks under our time which has lost mine and all others. So tempted there come gathered, weeping Feathers at her slaughtered as palms, Weight beyond the brow and below the belt to which that called her— Devil's mate and crater for the fate but fame at heart earned, casting shadows over which has lost its appetite, for now becalmed her hunger. Her hunger. Her hunger. REGINALD's tone changes entirely— if at first it may have been a playful game (and it wasn't) now it is serious— crucial, even. REGINALD Why did you do it? PATRICK I wouldn't do something like that… REGINALD —something like what? PATRICK realizes quickly he's been playing over in his mind that has not yet fully been realized on the surface of the conversation— it was an honest answer, but still implicit, and so in this moment of self awareness and realization, also of stunning showman and marksmanship, a certain light comes on as if the camera has been directed at him; his entire mask comes on at once, and no longer can the reminisce of an honest thought be detected. He has become a wall. PATRICK To follow up on your first question. Which was odd— REGINALD About killing your prostitute. (He means to intimidate, but PATRICK is a stone.) PATRICK You must not watch my show at all. REGINALD takes a moment to collect himself, with even just the slightest and temporary glimpse of fear in that he may have met his mental match, and has already lost the fight, also collecting his briefcase before he I told you no more trains. At the risk of sounding obnoxious, I've started ignoring all the voices in my head— Even though they're always right. fuck! REGINALD pauses, takes a deep breath while opening the door before looking back over his shoulder. REGINALD I must not. He walks out and immediately slams the door behind him. PATRICK, as if still in the eye of the camera remains calm, although, just the glimmer of fire in his eyes reflect the battle has yet been won. But as we all know by now, He will win the fight. The television people, season four I can't stand these fuckin hoes; Two days off in your hole Offers you a whole new perspective Of your own God complex; You're better off alone, Dead, Or on prescription medicines For all those thoughts in your head Like the bullet holes left from the gun That is poor and alone And just not having money. Confidence lost with a look, And you're sure you just should have gone come But the court office closes its doors at 4:30 And you've been done wrong Four long lost lovers over, It not about that, but motorcycles It's not about reps, It's about cycles I'm one our Peloton down And a whole world to go While you morons just on and on Won't stop talking Here's to disturbing your peace at the equinox And anywhere else you rest your rotten core, You dirty who're— What's it costs for love? Not a whole lot, Don't you see that I'm struggled in Brooklyn? Fuck this whole raw sewage garbage bucket If I gargle hard enough I'll just throw up But you push all the bottles and straws to the end of the curb And the colored sand blacks to the outskirts So we work harder It's a ocean of no But you know not what it does not to know me So below your own suffering goes the call of the crow just before dawn Mx To drop out Cool I don't want to be here I just want a surfboard Apparently it's your year But I'd slit my wrists for Harvard Yeah, it is— that kind of hurt Yes, it is that kind of pain The corvette stole your very favorite colors And your name That sort of wickedness, Just before it ends The candles flickers and the winter's coming in atop the l marble kitchen counters All right, all yours Patched up, or in the poorhouse Compliments to the chef, of course, compliments to the chef. Gotta go to the court house Of course cause I'm black So it's automatically implied I just don't work hard enough Or just ain't made the cut My momma was a dancer, not an athlete My momma made me fat and now I can't do that either If I'm the other black girl In a room full of white men I automatically become “The ugly one” So then I'm off. What's the point of coming here? A black book? A black box? Try to run me off out of the equinox on Walter Well done. I should not have wrote about it Lil bitz My son accused me of being in the Illuminati. He's 9. How do you even respond to that? I love my son, He's like really, really… fat. It's okay— I kinda like it; he's fat, I used to be fat; So we talk about fat people shit. Like McDonald's. And ham. lol This lady on the subway leaned on my hand on the pole. And I mean like really leaned into it, With her whole body weight. I just came from the gym, I been up all night, And she like— Leaned. Like, you know I didn't say shit, I just let it happen, But inside I'm like, WHY ARE YOU TOUCHHING MEEEEEEEEE?!!?!? WHY ARE YOU TOUCHING ME?! This train is not full. I don't think you understand. I just came out the steam room. I am the equivalent of fresh and pressed. Then she's just gon Leeeean. FUCK THAT. STOP TOUCHING MEEEEE. but like irl I'm just standing there like, No protest. Inside: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! STOP IT! Outside: [nothing] Chroma111. 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

In 1953, a Christmas Eve train bound for New Zealand's capital city met a tragic fate. Music in this Episode"Ourselves at Least" — C. Diab, from the album Imerro on Tonal Union Records"Bucharest" — Blue Dot Sessions, via Free Music Archive"Cozy Winter" — Oleksii Kalyna, via Pixabay"Velejo" — Blue Dot Sessions, via Free Music Archive"Below the River" — Blue Dot Sessions, via Free Music Archive"Sad Sorrowful Documentary Music" — Ievgen Poltavskyi, via Pixabay"Venus Aire" — Blue Dot Sessions, via Free Music ArchiveOrder your copy today! Of Christmases Long, Long AgoConnect with Me Links to all the things https://christmaspastpodcast.com/links Email: christmaspastpodcast@gmail.com BooksOf Christmases Long, Long Ago: Surprising Traditions from Christmas Past (2025, Lyons Press and Recorded Books) It's Christmas as you've never seen it before, and it makes a great gift for all the Christmas lovers in your life. Christmas Past: The Fascinating Stories Behind Our Favorite Holiday's Traditions (2022, Lyons Press and Recorded Books)

Rev. Rachel Rhodes - Jeremiah 33:14-16

What do you do when the valley feels endless—when the confusion, loneliness, or fear won't lift? In this message, Rich reminds us that the pain we carry doesn't push God away… it pulls us closer to Emmanuel, the God who promises to be with us. We explore why valleys are often the places we come to know God most deeply, how His strength meets us in our weakness, and why Scripture describes these low places as both battles and places of unexpected growth. If you're tired, hurting, or walking through something you never saw coming, this message will help you see that hope is growing right where you feel empty. God is nearer than you think—especially in the valley. What We Cover in This Message Why we often sense God more clearly in the valley than on the mountaintop How Psalm 84 reframes the “Valley of Weeping” as a place of strengthening Why God invites us to rely on His strength instead of our own How your mindset shapes your experience in seasons of struggle Real stories of God's presence in painful chapters of life Connect With Us Need prayer, want to sign up for baptism or surrender your life to Christ? Follow this link : https://bit.ly/m/lifechurchia

Part 2 of "Unlikely" - Sermon for Second Sunday of Advent, December 7, 2025. Pastor Dennis Ticen. Matthew 2:16-18.

This Psalm had me at the title. Even before  the title, because of the instructions. This song is to be sung after I am dead at the opening of the temple.If you wrote a song to be sung long after you are gone, what would you say? David, the realist: Weeping my tarry for the nightDavid, the optimist: but JOY comes with the morning.You have turned my mourning into DANCING.I leave you with joy.  I leave you with dancing. Subscribe: https://youtu.be/VjY2ualphr8

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Psalm 84:5-8 (from the Archive)New Living Translation5 What joy for those whose strength comes from the Lord,    who have set their minds on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem.6 When they walk through the Valley of Weeping,    it will become a place of refreshing springs.    The autumn rains will clothe it with blessings.7 They will continue to grow stronger,    and each of them will appear before God in Jerusalem.8 O Lord God of Heaven's Armies, hear my prayer.    Listen, O God of Jacob. Music: "Rest in the Shadow" by Julian & Melissa Wiggins,Used with permission.

Welcome to the “Prison Pulpit” on the China Compass podcast! I'm your China travel guide, Missionary Ben. Today we have a couple of guests on the podcast, the late C.H. Spurgeon and Richard Wurmbrand, who both have something very helpful to say about Thanksgiving; specifically, giving thanks in ALL circumstances. Follow me on X (@chinaadventures) where I share, among other things, daily reminders to pray for China. Also, feel free to email any questions or comments to bfwesten at gmail dot com. And last but not least, learn more about (most of) our strategic prayer and missions projects @ PrayGiveGo.us! Richard Wurmbrand on Rejoicing, Weeping, Feasting in Prison (Thanksgiving 2024) https://pubtv.flfnetwork.com/tabs/audio/podcasts/30293/episodes/40 Heaping Helping of Intercession for Thanksgiving (Thanksgiving 2020) https://china.myadventures.org/post/heaping-helping-of-intercession-for-thanksgiving/ As this week is Thanksgiving, I want to do something a little bit different… First, let me read from a Spurgeon sermon on “Giving Thanks Always, and for All Things”: https://chinacall.substack.com/p/always-and-for-all-things https://www.spurgeon.org/resource-library/sermons/always-and-for-all-things/ Next, let me re-read Richard Wurmbrand’s words about “rejoicing and weeping” in his hot, stuffy, dirty little prison cell... In God's Underground - https://richardwurmbrandfoundation.com/pdfs/IGU-english.pdf But let me preface that with the challenge to pray and intercede this week for those who are in similar circumstances. But ESPECIALLY that they would be enabled, by the grace of God and the power of the Spirit, to give thanks in all circumstances, as Spurgeon has already admonished us. If we do what Hebrews 13:3 says, and put ourselves in their shoes, in their cells, “as bound with them”, we will quickly realize that this is more easily said than done. Hence, the need for us to pray! So listen to Wurmbrand’s words, and let’s join together in prayer this week for our suffering brothers and sisters around the world! Follow China Compass Subscribe to China Compass wherever you get your podcasts. Follow me on X (@chinaadventures), email anytime (bfwesten at gmail dot com), and check out our website (PrayGiveGo.us). Hebrews 13:3!

Health, Inspirational, Lifestyle, The Breggin Hour https://mega.nz/file/kohiiTLT#TG7leWXo2KZ6-mcsCxE69WbTImhUclncPTS9ir0t0I4   Acar accident, a stroke, a virulent infection, a broken hip…. may you never have to go to a hospital. We all swear we will never go—but then something happens and the next thing you know, you are in an ambulance. On The Breggin Hour, we had the great pleasure of talking with one of the most sensitive gentlemen we know—Dr. Francis Christian, who is for more than 30 years a physician, trauma surgeon, and poet. Dr. Christian was also one of the ethical and courageous physicians in Canada who spoke out very early against the COVID vaccine rollout—calling for genuine informed consent. Despite working in a remote region of Saskatoon, the psychological operations intent on silencing dissent and criticism found him, and he was fired from his position with the University of Saskatchewan, College of Medicine. Dr. Christian has continued to speak truthfully about the vaccine dangers and is an eloquent advocate for patients, scientific medical practice, and medical ethics. Additionally, Dr. Christian has written and had published a book of poems, To A Nurse Friend, Weeping. The two physicians, Dr. Peter Breggin and Dr. Francis Christian, had a thoughtful and in-depth conversation ranging from medical ethics to each of their personal experiences in hospitals this year. Their discussion focused on healthcare experiences, particularly on hospital care and the role of hospitalists. Peter and Ginger shared their challenging experience with Peter's hospitalization, including issues with a robot-like monitoring system and medication side effects. Dr. Christian, who has a Substack newsletter, discussed his own experience advocating for his granddaughter's care in the hospital and emphasized that patients need to be their own best advocates. The conversation highlighted concerns about modern hospital practices, including the emphasis on quick patient turnover and the challenges posed by hospitalists and rotating medical staff. Hospitalists are full-time medical staff who have replaced personal physicians, who used to admit their patients into the hospital and then further oversee their treatment while hospitalized. Now, personal physicians have no contact or responsibility for their hospitalized patients who become managed by strangers who feel and have more allegiance to institutional rules and norms than to individual patients. Dr. Breggin and Dr. Christian describe their own personal frustrations trying to advocate for the safety and proper treatment of their families and themselves, and lament how much more difficult it is for nonmedical people to protect themselves and their families in a hospital setting.

Welcome to the “Prison Pulpit” on the China Compass podcast! I'm your China travel guide, Missionary Ben. Today we have a couple of guests on the podcast, the late C.H. Spurgeon and Richard Wurmbrand, who both have something very helpful to say about Thanksgiving; specifically, giving thanks in ALL circumstances. Follow me on X (@chinaadventures) where I share, among other things, daily reminders to pray for China. Also, feel free to email any questions or comments to bfwesten at gmail dot com. And last but not least, learn more about (most of) our strategic prayer and missions projects @ PrayGiveGo.us! Richard Wurmbrand on Rejoicing, Weeping, Feasting in Prison (Thanksgiving 2024) https://pubtv.flfnetwork.com/tabs/audio/podcasts/30293/episodes/40 Heaping Helping of Intercession for Thanksgiving (Thanksgiving 2020) https://china.myadventures.org/post/heaping-helping-of-intercession-for-thanksgiving/ As this week is Thanksgiving, I want to do something a little bit different… First, let me read from a Spurgeon sermon on “Giving Thanks Always, and for All Things”: https://chinacall.substack.com/p/always-and-for-all-things https://www.spurgeon.org/resource-library/sermons/always-and-for-all-things/ Next, let me re-read Richard Wurmbrand’s words about “rejoicing and weeping” in his hot, stuffy, dirty little prison cell... In God's Underground - https://richardwurmbrandfoundation.com/pdfs/IGU-english.pdf But let me preface that with the challenge to pray and intercede this week for those who are in similar circumstances. But ESPECIALLY that they would be enabled, by the grace of God and the power of the Spirit, to give thanks in all circumstances, as Spurgeon has already admonished us. If we do what Hebrews 13:3 says, and put ourselves in their shoes, in their cells, “as bound with them”, we will quickly realize that this is more easily said than done. Hence, the need for us to pray! So listen to Wurmbrand’s words, and let’s join together in prayer this week for our suffering brothers and sisters around the world! Follow China Compass Subscribe to China Compass wherever you get your podcasts. Follow me on X (@chinaadventures), email anytime (bfwesten at gmail dot com), and check out our website (PrayGiveGo.us). Hebrews 13:3!

The Heroes of Asgard by Annie and Eliza Keary - part 31: Weeping ★ Support this podcast on Patreon ★

Weeping Over Westchester

Jackie and MJ are back again for another Second Helpings, and comin' out the GATE with DWTS because MJ's changed their stance on Dylan Efron (because he's beautiful and doesn't know it). Then we're talkin' turkey, because Jackie realized she didn't need to CANCEL thanksgiving just cause big bro and Eddie wouldn't be in town, just scale it down, and then we're talkin ADVENT CALENDARS including the Universal YUMS Calendar Jackie got for herself! Jackie eats possibly spoiled Wicked Cream on air, because she didn't know it was sent from someone until 4 days after it arrived. The Wicked promo tour continues on, full of collabs and very awkward interviews with Cynthia and Ariana, Jackie and MJ talk about just how much Mormon Reality TV they have consumed lately, including the newest season of Secret Lives, and it was Prince night on DWTS, with an appearance by MR FANTASY HIMSELF! DON'T FORGET ABOUT THE 5:30AM THANKSGIVINGS DAY PARADE STREAM ON TWITCH NEXT THURSDAY, plus even more on this week's Second Helpings! Micro Jackie's Snackies at 32:47 or so!Want even more Page 7? Support us on Patreon! Patreon.com/Page7Podcast  Subscribe to SiriusXM Podcasts+ to listen to new episodes of Page 7 ad-free.Start a free trial now on Apple Podcasts or by visiting siriusxm.com/podcastsplus. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Kelly Watt ~ https://www.kellywatt.ca/

[1 Kings 19:1-3a] When Ahab got home, he told Jezebel everything Elijah had done, including the way he had killed all the prophets of Baal. [2] So Jezebel sent this message to Elijah: “May the gods strike me and even kill me if by this time tomorrow I have not killed you just as you killed them.” [3] Elijah was afraid and fled for his life. Depression is often triggered by ___________________ that goes unchecked. Depression comes when we start listening to our ___________________. Depression comes when we allow ___________ to direct us. [1 Kings 19:3b-4a] He went to Beersheba, a town in Judah, and he left his servant there. [4] Then he went on alone into the wilderness, traveling all day. Depression escalates when we __________________. [1 Kings 19:4b-8] He sat down under a solitary broom tree and prayed that he might die. “I have had enough, Lord,” he said. “Take my life, for I am no better than my ancestors who have already died.” [5] Then he lay down and slept under the broom tree. But as he was sleeping, an angel touched him and told him, “Get up and eat!” [6] He looked around and there beside his head was some bread baked on hot stones and a jar of water! So he ate and drank and lay down again. [7] Then the angel of the Lord came again and touched him and said, “Get up and eat some more, or the journey ahead will be too much for you.” [8] So he got up and ate and drank, and the food gave him enough strength to travel forty days and forty nights to Mount Sinai, the mountain of God. God wants to give us _____________. [1 Kings 19:9-10] There he came to a cave, where he spent the night. But the Lord said to him, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” [10] Elijah replied, “I have zealously served the Lord God Almighty. But the people of Israel have broken their covenant with you, torn down your altars, and killed every one of your prophets. I am the only one left, and now they are trying to kill me, too.” You can hear __________ ____________ if you listen. [1 Kings 19:15] Then the Lord told him, “Go back the same way you came, and travel to the wilderness of Damascus. When you arrive there, anoint Hazael to be king of Aram. God wants to work through _____________. [Galatians 6:9] So let's not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don't give up. [Psalm 30:5b] Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning.

11-16-2025 Sanctuary Service, Gladness and Rejoicing in a Time of Weeping and Distress

As followers of Christ, we hold both joy and sorrow at once. Weeping is an acknowledgement that things are not the way God intended them to be, and laughter and dancing are an acknowledgement that the resurrection has the last word. God abides in both of these seasons of life, encouraging us to allow ourselves to feel the joys and pains of each authentically.

A sermon on 1 Samuel 1. Speaker: Raymond Johnson

John 11:25-44,Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, 26 and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this?” 27 She said to him, “Yes, Lord; I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, who is coming into the world.” When she had said this, she went and called her sister Mary, saying in private, “The Teacher is here and is calling for you.” 29 And when she heard it, she rose quickly and went to him. 30 Now Jesus had not yet come into the village, but was still in the place where Martha had met him. 31 When the Jews who were with her in the house, consoling her, saw Mary rise quickly and go out, they followed her, supposing that she was going to the tomb to weep there. 32 Now when Mary came to where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet, saying to him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” 33 When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come with her also weeping, he was deeply moved[a] in his spirit and greatly troubled. 34 And he said, “Where have you laid him?” They said to him, “Lord, come and see.” 35 Jesus wept. 36 So the Jews said, “See how he loved him!” 37 But some of them said, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man also have kept this man from dying?”38 Then Jesus, deeply moved again, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone lay against it. 39 Jesus said, “Take away the stone.” Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, “Lord, by this time there will be an odor, for he has been dead four days.” 40 Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?” 41 So they took away the stone. And Jesus lifted up his eyes and said, “Father, I thank you that you have heard me. 42 I knew that you always hear me, but I said this on account of the people standing around, that they may believe that you sent me.” 43 When he had said these things, he cried out with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out.” 44 The man who had died came out, his hands and feet bound with linen strips, and his face wrapped with a cloth. Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, and let him go.”The year 1912 gave us two unforgettable things: the sinking of the Titanic and the invention of Oreo cookie — one was a tragedy, one a triumph, and we're still fascinated by both today.But something else important that happened in 1912 that we probably don't think about much was the publication of an essay by the theologian B. B. Warfield. The essay is entitled, “The Emotional Life of our Lord” — and it's about the various emotions we see Jesus express in the Gospels.What makes the essay so amazing is that there had never really been a study like this before, and Warfield wrote it during the heyday of theological liberalism. When a lot of modern scholars were denying the deity of Christ, Warfield affirmed the deity of Christ and wrote this essay to defend the humanity of Christ.And the reason this essay is relevant to our passage today is that Warfield gives a lot of attention to John 11 — because of the emotions we just read about in verses 33–38!Now throughout each of the four Gospels we see the emotional life of Jesus, but there's no other place where we see such strong emotions compounded in one scene. Warfield writes, “What John does [here in Chapter 11] is uncover to us the heart of Jesus as he wins for us our salvation.” And I think that's right. Remember John was there! He saw this happen. And led by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, he has written this to uncover the heart of Jesus for us, which means it's worthy of our focus this morning. There are two questions we should ask: What do we learn here about Jesus's heart? What difference does it make in our lives?The goal of the sermon is to answer those two questions: I want to show you something amazing about the heart of Jesus, and then I wanna talk about why it matters.Those are the two parts, and Part One can be titled “Uncovering the Heart of Jesus.”1. Uncovering the Heart of JesusWe're gonna pick up here in verse 28, and my goal is for us to build, in our minds, the right image of Jesus in this scene.Last week we saw the dialogue between Jesus and Martha, and this week it's between Jesus and Mary.After Martha's faith confession of Jesus in verse 27, she goes back to their home in Bethany to get Mary. And I want you to try to imagine this…Remember this is just four days after the death of Lazarus, and so it's a crowded house of friends and family grieving with them. Martha walks into the full house and somehow in private she tells Mary that Jesus wants to see her. She most likely whispered this to Mary, because people are all around her. She said, “Mary, the Teacher is here and he's calling for you.”And Mary, right away, jumps up and goes to meet Jesus, and everybody is there, seeing her do this, and they assume she must be going to the tomb. So they leave the house and follow her.So picture Mary walking to meet Jesus, and there's this entourage of grieving people following behind her. She gets to Jesus in verse 32, and she falls down at Jesus's feet and she says, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” Where have we heard that before? This is the same thing Martha said in verse 21.And again, I don't think this is a rebuke. Mary is just stating a fact, and she does it here bowed down at Jesus's feet — which is not a posture of disrespect — this is homage. She's broken before her teacher. She's been following him, learning from him, trusting him, and she's honest with him.And it's important we get this scene right in our minds because before John tells us how Jesus responds, he tells us what Jesus sees. We need to see it too.Verse 33 starts by saying that Jesus saw Mary weeping, down at this feet, and he saw this crowd of friends and family around her also weeping. And that word for “weeping” means wailing. This is audible, expressive grief. There's no ‘balled fists mad' at Jesus here. It's heartache. Now look what John says Jesus did …And this is one we need to see. I want to make sure everybody's with me. Find verse 33 — Chapter 11, verse 33.After Jesus sees this heartache around him, Verse 33,“…he was deeply moved in his spirit and greatly troubled.”Jesus Is AngryNow that word “deeply moved” — that's how the English Standard Version and the New International Version translates it. But if you have the ESV, you might notice there's a little footnote marker, and the footnote says that this word could also be translated “indignant.” Or to be outraged. That's because in nearly every other place this word is used, that's what it means. Outside the New Testament this Greek word is used to refer to the snorting of horses, and when it's applied to humans it means expressing anger. This is where I think cartoons could actually help us.In old-school cartoons — like the Looney Tunes — it was really clear when the characters would get angry. Their faces would turn red and steam would blow out of their nostrils. That's anger.And the point is that the audience not miss the emotion!That's the point here in the use of this word.The New Living Translation actually nails it. They translate it “a deep anger welled up within him.” That's what the word means. Now why does it matter? Well, the word is repeated in verse 38. Look down at verse 38:“Then Jesus, deeply moved again [deeply angry again], [he] came to the tomb.”So that's twice in this scene that John tells us this. Which means he really doesn't want us to miss it. Jesus is angry here. He's indignant. He's furious. Jesus Is SadBut hold on a minute: before we import our own meaning of anger, we need to see more in this story. We know that whatever kind of anger Jesus has here, it's perfectly compatible with his holiness. Jesus never sinned, so this must be a holy anger. And there are three more words John uses here that fill in the picture. We have to see all of this together if we're going to have the right image.Notice back in verse 33, John tells us that Jesus was “deeply moved/angry in his spirit and greatly troubled.”Jesus being angry “in his spirit” means that he's under control — he's not flying off the handle. He's restrained.But at the same time his emotion is visible. Because notice that word in verse 33, “deeply troubled.” That word literally means to shake. B. B. Warfield describes it as “raging in himself … His inwardly restrained fury produced a profound agitation of his whole being …” Can you picture that?I know we all have ideas of what Jesus might have looked like (there's a few windows around here that could help our imaginations) — But whatever your imagination of Jesus is, it should be able to include everything the Bible says about him, and here we read that Jesus is so enraged that he's shaking. It's like he's about to explode, and says “Where have you laid him?” And then, verse 35, “Jesus wept.”Now who would have expected that?! He's raging in himself, and tears spill out.And when you see tears — when there's weeping — what does that mean? Even young children know what this means. This is part of early childhood development — teachers show children pictures of faces and have them match different emotions to each face. And when the teacher asks, “Which one is sad?”, the kids always point to the face with tears. Because tears means sorrow. Weeping means sadness. And in this story, Jesus is sad. That's what overflowed for everyone to see. Jesus is fuming with fury and he grieves with tears. Fury and grief — anger with sadness — that's the right image of Jesus here. That's what John is showing us.But why is Jesus responding this way? It has to do with what he encounters. First, and most obvious, he is surrounded by grief. He loved Mary and Martha, and Mary and Martha are both grieving; their friends and family with them are grieving, and so, at the most basic level, when Jesus weeps here, he's joining his friends in their grief.The people Jesus loves are sad, and he meets them in their sadness. He's with them. This is true sympathy. Jesus is a good friend. But the anger part — what is that about? This is where we have to look at what's behind the grief.In this story, what has caused the grief?Death.Warfield writes,The spectacle of the distress of Mary and her companions enraged Jesus because it brought poignantly home to his consciousness the evil of death, its unnaturalness, its “violent tyranny” … In Mary's grief, he contemplates the misery of the whole human race and burns with rage against the oppressor of men…It is death that is the object of his wrath, and behind death him who has the power of death and whom he has come into the world to destroy. Tears of sympathy may fill his eyes, but his soul is held by rage…Anger and sadness. Sadness and anger. Jesus Is ZealousIt's really important to see what happens next. What does Jesus do with these emotions?He doesn't sit there on his hands. But he's in motion. He's going somewhere with this. And, at some level, this is expected. Check out verses 36–37. This is how the friends and family respond. They see Jesus's emotion and think, “Wow, he really loved Lazarus!” And then some said, verse 37:“Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man also have kept this man from dying?”That's actually a smart question. It's the logical next question after you realize that Jesus really loved the man who died. It's clear that Jesus loved Lazarus, and we know Jesus can heal, so why didn't Jesus just heal him?I hope you see this is a form of the same question we talked about a month ago in our sermon “An Everyday Theology of Suffering.”The big question we talked about is: How can God be all-powerful and all-good, and suffering still exist?Remember that question? That's the big question. And that's the same thing going on here at a practical level: Jesus is powerful (he can heal), Jesus is good (he loved Lazarus). So … why is Lazarus dead in a tomb and Jesus upset about it?It's a fair question, and look, I think we're all just trying to figure it out. And maybe we think Jesus doesn't really have the kind of power we hoped he has — and if we think that, this next part is for us … Because Jesus, again, is in motion. He's going somewhere. Verse 38:“Then Jesus, deeply angry again, came to the tomb.”Get the image right in your mind. Jesus is walking up to this tomb furious. He's angry. He's sad. And he's zealous.Warfield on this part quotes Calvin. I'll read Calvin to you. He says:Christ does not come to the tomb as an idle spectator, but like a champion who prepares for a battle, and therefore we need not wonder that he again groans, for the violent tyranny of death, which he had to conquer, is placed before his eyes.Do you see it? Jesus approaches the tomb enraged because he is about to face our greatest enemy. And what does he do?He says, “Move the stone.” Martha says, “There's gonna be an odor.”Jesus says, “I'm here to show you the glory of God.”And then he looks up to his Father in heaven and says, verse 41,“Father, I thank you that you have heard me …”See, apparently Jesus has already been praying (and like Martha said in verse 22, whatever Jesus asks from God, God gives it to him). John wants us to know the Father and Son are in this together. Verse 43: “When Jesus had said these things, he cried out with a loud voice …”That word for “cried out” is the same word used later when the crowd will cry out “Crucify him! Crucify him!” The word means to shout. And John also adds “with a loud voice.”You gotta picture this. Jesus is not making a mild suggestion here. This is a loud shout from a heart enraged. He's shouting it loudly in defiance of death.“Lazarus, come out.”Verse 44,“And the man who died came out …”See, they don't even call him ‘Lazarus' anymore — they call him “the man who died” — because he did die, but now he's alive. And Jesus says,“Unbind him, and let him go.” Those words are significant. It means that Jesus, the resurrection and the life, has set the dead man free. Just like Jesus will set us free — not free from the end of our physical lives in this world, but absolutely free from death.Jesus, see, is zealous to save! He's zealous to display the glory of God and accomplish our everlasting good, which are one in the same.In this story, John uncovers the heart of Jesus for us.B. B. Warfield writes,Not in cold unconcern but in flaming wrath against the foe, Jesus smites in our behalf. He has not only saved us from the evils that oppress us; he has felt for and with us in our oppression, and under the impulse of these feelings has wrought out our redemption.Anger against our enemy. Sadness in our grief. Zeal for our salvation.This is the heart of Jesus. What a Savior!2. Why Does It Matter?Now, Part Two: What difference does this make in our lives?I'd like to close with an application. And there's a hundred things we could say! A hundred things we could takeaway. But for now, I'm just gonna focus on one: In discovering Jesus's heart, we discover the kind of hearts we are called to have as his people.We can't be content to only admire him, but we must follow him as our example — especially in our witness. Because Jesus shows us what a holy heart looks like toward a fallen world.We see it in the mingling of his anger and sadness — anger toward the ultimate enemy, and sadness for those who suffer. Indignation for the father of lies, sorrow for those captive to lies.I think the best name for this posture is what we might call brokenhearted boldness. (That's a Piper phrase.) Brokenhearted boldness.And we get the boldness part. That is so vital in our day. It's the courage to call evil evil. To hold our ground on moral clarity. To pray imprecatory psalms against the workers of Satan. And we do it with confidence, in Luther's words:The prince of darkness grim, We tremble not for him;His rage we can endure,For lo! His doom is sure;One little word shall fell him.We mock the devil! We mock death! This is boldness!But it's brokenhearted. Because at the same time that we resolve never to compromise truth, we weep for the world that's lost it. Together with the firmness of our conviction, we have the tenderness of compassion. We're brokenhearted, because Hell is real, and we know people who will go there. And we don't want them to. Brokenhearted boldness.And honestly, it's easier to recognize it than to describe it, so I'll tell you a true story…Just recently I was having lunch with one of our members, a college student. And he was telling me about a class he's in right now, and the professor is off the rails. The professor says there are at least 12 different genders, he openly mocks God in the classroom. And this student is disgusted by it. He told me he's spoken up in class, he's tried to dialogue with other students. He said, “But my classmates are so influenced by this professor. … They're just eating it up. They're all choosing a path of lies.”And as he said this, his eyes filled with tears, his voice began to crack; he had to stop talking and look away … And I thought: “That's it.”That's brokenhearted boldness.That's the heart of Jesus showing up in his people.It's not a witness of swagger. It's not brash or belligerent, not snide or snarky, not cruel or crude, but it's embracing truth with tears — a supreme love for God and a sincere love for people.It's a miracle, church, to have hearts like that! And would that God work this miracle in us! We want to be more like Jesus as we point to him and what he's done. That's what brings us to the Table.The TableBefore we can ever imagine being like Jesus, we have to first be saved by Jesus. And that's what we celebrate here.The heart of Christ is an example we can follow, but the cross of Christ is the unrepeatable accomplishment of our salvation — and we can only receive it.Christian, you know you can only receive it, so would you receive it afresh this morning? If you trust in Jesus, I invite to rest anew in this grace to you, and surrender yourself anew to his transforming work in your life.

November 16, 2025 / Series: The Arc of the Story, week 11 / Season: Pentecost 33

We want to spend the bulk of our time together in meditation on a powerful chapter that King David wrote. Today, our focus will be to understand who we are, we must first know that God is God and we are not. So much of the issues in our lives regarding our identity is when we try to keep ourselves on the throne when we were never created to sit there. Only our God.(Psalm 84 NLT)How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord of Heaven's Armies.  I long, yes, I faint with longing to enter the courts of the Lord. With my whole being, body and soul, I will shout joyfully to the living God. Even the sparrow finds a home, and the swallow builds her nest and raises her young at a place near your altar, O Lord of Heaven's Armies, my King and my God! What joy for those who can live in your house, always singing your praises. What joy for those whose strength comes from the Lord, who have set their minds on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. When they walk through the Valley of Weeping, it will become a place of refreshing springs. The autumn rains will clothe it with blessings. They will continue to grow stronger, and each of them will appear before God in Jerusalem. O Lord God of Heaven's Armies, hear my prayer. Listen, O God of Jacob. … A single day in your courts is better than a thousand anywhere else! I would rather be a gatekeeper in the house of my God than live the good life in the homes of the wicked. For the Lord God is our sun and our shield. He gives us grace and glory. The Lord will withhold no good thing from those who do what is right. O Lord of Heaven's Armies, what joy for those who trust in you.What phrase or thought stood out to you? Consider why. What is God saying to you right now?Listen to verse 5-7 from the Message BibleAnd how blessed all those in whom you live,whose lives become roads you travel;They wind through lonesome valleys, come upon brooks,discover cool springs and pools brimming with rain!God-traveled, these roads curve up the mountain, andat the last turn—Zion! God in full view!Is there a lonesome valley you are facing right now?Then listen to the closing words once more - For the Lord God is our sun and our shield. He gives us grace and glory. The Lord will withhold no good thing from those who do what is right. O Lord of Heaven's Armies, what joy for those who trust in you.Let's pray: “Father, David used the word ‘joy' many times in this Psalm. Help me to find more joy in You and in my life. I need You to be my sun and my shield. Please give me Your grace and glory. I want to do what is right in Your eyes so You will withhold no good thing from me. As above, so below.”

"You think if Mina Kimes came on the show Dan would get his ass up and go eat a sandwich?" The great philosopher Julian G. once said, "Weeping may endure for a night, but joy is gonna come in the morning." Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

So many junipers, so little time. So let's pick one! How about the weeping juniper (Juniperus flaccida)? Buckle up, it's gonna be a bumpy one.Completely Arbortrary is produced and hosted by Casey Clapp and Alex CrowsonSupport the pod and become a Treemium MemberFollow along on InstagramFind Arbortrary merch on our storeFind additional reading on our websiteCover art by Jillian BartholdMusic by Aves and The Mini-VandalsSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

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Spooke_ and Hurinfan discuss Glen Cook's newest release in the Black Company series, Lies Weeping, with special guest from the Inking Out Loud podcast, Drew McCaffrey. This episode contains full spoilers.Disclaimer: Green Team received an ARC of Lies Weeping by Glen Cook courtesy of NetGalley and Tor Publishing Group. We thank them for the early copy for review. All opinions are our own. Lies Weeping released on November 4th, 2025. Hope you enjoy the episode. Music is Galactic Damages by Jingle Punks.Find us on:Discord: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://discord.gg/FNcpuuA⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠BlueSky: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://bsky.app/profile/greenteampod.bsky.social⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Threads:⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.threads.net/@greenteampod⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Reddit: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.reddit.com/r/thelegendarium/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Suggestion Box: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://forms.gle/Nsz6URWeq3JeeZnGA

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Today's episode is basically a massive treat for me. Hollie McNish is my favourite poet. I first encountered her over a decade ago when I was doing an event for my thriller, The Woman Who Ran, at a literary festival. Hollie was in the big venue next door. The signing queue went on for miles. Let's just say, it wasn't for me. Hollie's poetry speaks to people, women, mainly, let's be honest. And we are quite literally queueing up to see her. Hollie's poetry has millions of views on social media, she sells out thousand seater stadiums and by the second poem everyone is on their feet, Weeping, howling, cheering, above all, laughing, at the unassuming woman on stage talking about blood and blow jobs. Hollie has written seven works of poetry, including Nobody Told Me, a poetic memoir about politics and parenthood, that won the Ted Hughes Prize. The latest, Virgin, has all the Hollie McNish hallmarks - candour, rage, laugh out loud humour, and a determination to to say out loud the things others think but dare not say. Hollie joined me for the best Monday morning I've had in a long time. We talked about everything from poetry and politics to Single motherhood and success to sleazy old men and why she's sick of society shaming teenagers. We also discussed how dirty dancing informed her feminism, How she got the confidence to stand up on stage and talk about blow jobs And Why this age is so good so its detractors should just shut the f*ck up. Wisdom of the week goes to Hollie's mum who says, 'if you can enjoy a tree you'll be all right.' * You can buy all the books mentioned in this podcast at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠The Shift bookshop on Bookshop.org⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠, including Virgin by Hollie McNish as well as the book that inspired this podcast, The Shift: how I lost and found myself after 40 - and you can too, by me. * If you enjoyed this episode and you fancy buying me a coffee, pop over to my page on ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠buymeacoffee.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠. • And if you'd like to support the work that goes into making this podcast and get a weekly newsletter plus loads more content including exclusive transcripts of the podcast, why not join The Shift community, come and have a look around at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠www.theshiftwithsambaker.substack.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Rob is back for more Black Company! He and Drew talk through the long-awaited Lies Weeping, the start of a new Black Company sequel series. The Final Draft features a beer from 4 Noses Brewing. Visit our website at www.iolpodcast.com and join the conversation on Twitter @IOLPodcast Support us on Patreon: www.patreon.com/inkingoutloud Send us a tip on Ko-fi: ko-fi.com/inkingoutloud Inking Out Loud is Drew McCaffrey and Rob Santos. Sound engineering by Drew McCaffrey. Artwork by Danielle "FelCandy" Prosperie. Intro/outro music: "Moonlight" by Jivemind.

Jesus Followers Need to Acknowledge the Sufficiency of Jesus, Through Praise, Irrespective of Our Trials and Problems MESSAGE SUMMARY: Some of us and some of our acquaintances have gone through horrendous circumstances. Therefore, we ask, given these circumstances, how can we rejoice in the Lord? Paul tells us, in 2 Corinthians 12:10, that Jesus Followers need to acknowledge the sufficiency of Jesus, through praise and thanksgiving, irrespective of our trials and problems: “For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.". To fulfill God's exhortation “to rejoice always”, you can rejoice “always” if you keep your eyes on Jesus. David tells us, in Psalm 30:4, to: “Sing praises to the LORD, O you his saints, and give thanks to his holy name. For his anger is but for a moment, and his favor is for a lifetime. Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning.”. Paul instructs us for continuous thanksgiving in 1 Thessalonians 5:16-19: “Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. Do not quench the Spirit.".   TODAY'S PRAYER: Father, I confess that when difficulties and trials come into my life, large or small, I mostly grumble and complain. I realize the trials James talks about are not necessarily “walls,” but they are difficult to bear, nonetheless. Fill me with such a vision of a transformed life, O God, that I might actually consider it “pure joy” when you bring trials my way. I believe, Lord. Help my unbelief. In Jesus' name, amen. Scazzero, Peter. Emotionally Healthy Spirituality Day by Day (p. 94). Zondervan. Kindle Edition. TODAY'S AFFIRMATION: Today, because I am filled with the Holy Spirit, I will not be controlled by my Procrastination. Rather, I will walk in the Spirit's fruit of Self-Control. “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.” (Galatians 5:22f). SCRIPTURE REFERENCE (ESV): 1 Thessalonians 5:16-19; Psalms 95:1-11; 2 Corinthians 11:23-30; Psalms 71b:13-24. A WORD FROM THE LORD WEBSITE: www.AWFTL.org. THIS SUNDAY'S AUDIO SERMON: You can listen to Archbishop Beach's Current Sunday Sermon: “The Interior Life – Maintenance of the Inner Man -- Part 7: A Listening Spirit” at our Website: https://awordfromthelord.org/listen/ DONATE TO AWFTL: https://mygiving.secure.force.com/GXDonateNow?id=a0Ui000000DglsqEAB

When we focus on ourselves, we end up discontent and depressed. But when we shift our focus to others, God blesses and prospers our efforts, and we find ourselves happier and healthier. Learn more in today’s episode of the Jack Hibbs Podcast.(00:00) Weeping and Rejoicing Together(12:59) Breaking Cliques, Ending Partiality(17:53) The Danger of Pride and ArroganceCONNECT WITH PASTOR JACK Get Updates via Text:  https://text.whisp.io/jack-hibbs-podcastWebsite: https://jackhibbs.com/ Instagram: http://bit.ly/2FCyXpO Facebook: https://bit.ly/2WZBWV0 YouTube:  https://bit.ly/437xMHn DAZE OF DECEPTION BOOK:https://jackhibbs.com/daze-of-deception/ Did you know we have a Real Life Network? Sign up for free for more exclusive content:https://bit.ly/3CIP3M99

When a traveling merchant refuses shelter to a desperate stranger on a storm-ravaged night, he awakens something in the Louisiana swamps that collects debts in tears and screams—one victim at a time. Discover more TERRIFYING podcasts at http://eeriecast.com/   Follow Carman Carrion!    https://www.instagram.com/carmancarrion/?hl=en   https://twitter.com/CarmanCarrion   Subscribe to Spotify! https://open.spotify.com/show/0uiX155WEJnN7QVRfo3aQY   Please Review Us on iTunes! https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/freaky-folklore/id1550361184   Music and sound effects used in the Freaky Folklore Podcast have or may have been provided/created by:  CO.AG: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCcavSftXHgxLBWwLDm_bNvA Myuu: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCiSKnkKCKAQVxMUWpZQobuQ Jinglepunks: https://jinglepunks.com/ Epidemic Sound: https://www.epidemicsound.com/ Kevin MacLeod: http://incompetech.com/ Dark Music: https://soundcloud.com/darknessprevailspodcast Soundstripe: https:// Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Fr. Mike focuses on the prophet Jeremiah's continued sorrow and explains how lying prophets bring forth destruction. He invites us to examine what lies in our lives are bringing destruction. We also continue reading about Ezekiel's vision, and see the glory of the Lord return to the temple. Today's readings are Jeremiah 14-15, Ezekiel 43-44, and Proverbs 15:13-16. For the complete reading plan, visit ascensionpress.com/bibleinayear. Please note: The Bible contains adult themes that may not be suitable for children - parental discretion is advised.

Fr. Mike reflects on Jeremiah's sorrow for the people of Israel while reminding us that the one thing we ought to find glory in, is in understanding and knowing God. In our reading of Ezekiel, we hear about God's ongoing promise to restore Israel. Today's readings are Jeremiah 9, Ezekiel 39, and Proverbs 15:1-4. For the complete reading plan, visit ascensionpress.com/bibleinayear. Please note: The Bible contains adult themes that may not be suitable for children - parental discretion is advised.