Podcasts about Writ

Send us a textIn this episode of Imperfect Marketing, host Kendra Corman dives into a common but often overlooked entrepreneurial struggle: being too close to your own business. Drawing from personal experience and conversations with clients, Kendra explores why it's so hard to see your business clearly—and how that impacts your marketing, messaging, and momentum.If you've ever found yourself stuck writing a LinkedIn post, unsure what makes you unique, or overwhelmed by daily to-dos, this episode will hit home. It's a thoughtful, honest look at what happens when your expertise becomes a blind spot—and how to regain perspective.Are You Too Close to Your Business?How This Impacts Your MarketingWays to Regain PerspectiveKey Takeaways for Business Owners and MarketersExpertise blindness is real—just because you know it doesn't mean your audience doesMarketing is about connection, not complexityYou don't need a huge budget to get perspective—start with post-its or a monthly accountability check-inEven pros need coaches—asking for help is a sign of strength, not failureWhether you're a solopreneur, service provider, or small business owner, this episode will help you slow down, zoom out, and market from a place of clarity—not assumption.Connect with Kendra Corman:Website: kendracorman.comLinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/kendracorman/Instagram: @kendracormancoach Looking to leverage AI? Want better results? Want to think about what you want to leverage?Check and see how I am using it for FREE on YouTube. From "Holy cow, it can do that?" to "Wait, how does this work again?" – I've got all your AI curiosities covered. It's the perfect after-podcast snack for your tech-hungry brain. Watch here

Grab your swords and shields and your favorite copy of a game of thrones as three OG Vassals discuss the beginnings of a new series. Join Zander (the lord Baron), Noah (npops), and Bina (bina007), as the three introduce a … Continue reading →

In this episode, I discuss the history of the controversial wartime power that Trump has invoked to justify his mass deportations and the importance of the inalienable rights of due process and habeas corpus, granted by the constitution to all persons, that he is seeking to strip away. I encourage you to visit 5calls.org and find their page to help you demand that this administration Bring Abrego Garcia Home and Stop Trump's Plan to Traffic Civilians to a Foreign Gulag, as well as their pages to Protest the Unlawful Deportation of Venezuelan Immigrants to El Salvador and demand that your governor Deny Trump's Police State Tactics for Deportations. But more than this, get out to a protest in your area if you can. On June 14th, massive No Kings protests are being planned all over the country to coincide with Trump's birthday celebration. Visit https://www.mobilize.us/nokings/ to find an event near you! Get 3 months of premium wireless service for $15 bucks a month at ⁠⁠⁠MintMobile.com/Blindness⁠⁠⁠ Check out ⁠⁠⁠the show merch⁠⁠⁠, perfect for gifts!  ⁠⁠⁠Pledge support on Patreon to get an ad-free feed with exclusive episodes!⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠Check out my novel, Manuscript Found!⁠⁠⁠ Find a transcript of this episode with source citations and related imagery at ⁠⁠⁠www.historicalblindness.com⁠⁠⁠. Direct all advertising inquiries to ⁠⁠⁠advertising@airwavemedia.com⁠⁠⁠. Visit ⁠⁠⁠www.airwavemedia.com⁠⁠⁠ to find other high-quality podcasts! Some music on this episode was licensed under a Blue Dot Sessions blanket license at the time of this episode's publication. Tracks include "Cicle DR Valga," "Black Ballots," "Cicle Gerano," "Game Lands," "Cicle Vascule," "Black Ballots" "Illa Villardo," "Winter in Black," and "Cicle Deserrat." Additional music, including "Remedy for Melancholy," "Wake Up," and "Sentinel," is by Kai Engel, licensed under Creative Commons. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Welcome to this explosive edition of Light ‘Em Up!In these critical and delicate times that we find ourselves in — democracy is in clear and present danger.As nothing feels certain or safe and everything appears to be in “transition” we interrogate and examine the Trump Administration and its efforts to suspend the “great writ” of Habeas corpus.Habeas corpus is a legal doctrine whose original purpose was to contest detention by the king. The origins of the writ, or “written order” (its Latin name means, loosely, “produce the body”), can be traced to 13th century England.On June 15, 1215, at Runnymede, the barons who had banded together to impose legal restrictions on King John's power forced him to affix his seal to the Magna Carta.One of its curbs on the sovereign's power reads, in part, “No free man shall be seized or imprisoned…except by the lawful judgment of his equals or by the law of the land.”The writ of habeas corpus appears in the U.S. Constitution. Article 1, section 9, clause 2 includes this single sentence: “The Privilege of the Writ of Habeas Corpus shall not be suspended, unless when in Cases of Rebellion or Invasion the public Safety may require it.”Habeas corpus requires a jailer to produce a prisoner in a court of law so the basis for detention can be reviewed. The Constitution presupposes this right, but its use has been sharply restricted during past wars.Fast forward to the present, as Donald Trump continues on his “revenge tour” — his administration has shown itself to be big on conducting legal proceedings without due process for the defendants it pursues, just as George W. Bush did with “enemy combatants” at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, post 9-11.The Trump White House continues to break things like “Wreck it Ralph”— and has floated the idea of suspending Habeas corpus in the context of an “alien invasion” as it pertains to immigration, sparking widespread and grave concerns about the erosion of fundamental rights and the separation of powers.With mass deportations taking place without due process and the suspension of Habeas corpus, the rule of law and democracy itself is under a serious threat.While the Constitution allows for the suspension of Habeas corpus in cases of rebellion or invasion where the public safety is at stake, it is a power that must be exercised sparingly and only in extraordinary circumstances. Circumstances that we clearly are NOT in.With this probing, penetrating and pointed look … we ask out loud if we are on a collision course with the tyranny that brought about a coup d' état in Chile in 1973, where the military ousted then President Allende, General Agusto Pinochet seized power, democracy collapsed and repression, murder and great suffering followed (all backed and funded by the US CIA & State Department in the Nixon administration).As we challenge you to think critically, we probe further, examining the historical suspension of Habeas corpus, we think you'll be surprised to hear that one of the Presidents considered to be the “GOAT” (greatest of all time) suspended the writ of Habeas corpus, and we'll deliver the facts not the fiction surrounding this.We'll itemize some of the “pitfalls” and potential terrible consequences of decisions such as this, as we've learned through a FOIA request that the FBI has ordered its agents to scale back white-collar crime investigations to pursue more immigration crime instead.The rule of law and democracy are endangered!Previous Supreme Courts have held in reverence and referred to Habeas corpus as, “the fundamental instrument for safeguarding individual freedom against arbitrary and lawless state action.”The current Supreme Court has been at best tepid in its support and defense of the U.S. ConWe want to hear from you!

Suspending the Writ of Habeas Corpus is about much more than immigration...don't fall for the okie doke! 

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Our guest for the hour is Nick Taylor-Vaisey, POLITICO's Ottawa bureau chief, and we hear from poll analyst and founder of The Writ, Eric Grenier. We also speak with Oakville East Liberal MP Anita Anand and Aurora-Oak Ridges-Richmond Hill Conservative MP Costas Menegakis.

The last week of the federal campaign is anything but sleepy—Cheryl and Erika go full tilt on everything from budget bombs to Alberta bombshells.

A check in on the final week of the election with Cristine de Clercy, the Jarislowsky Chair in Trust and Political Leadership at Trent University, as well as poll analyst, Eric Grenier, host of the Writ podcast. He produces the CBC Poll Tracker for this election.

Watch The X22 Report On Video No videos found Click On Picture To See Larger PictureThe founding fathers knew that tariffs would be weapon against the [CB]. Trump is using the tariffs as a weapon. China is getting hit with port fees and they will increase each year. Trump is dismantling the monetary order. The entire transition is controlled demolition. Trump and the patriots are showing the people are the truth. They must see the [DS] criminal system. Trump will use this to fight against the [DS] in the end. The [DS] will mostly try to push an insurgency against Trump. Timing is everything. In the end Trump and team will use Writ of Habeas Corpus.   (function(w,d,s,i){w.ldAdInit=w.ldAdInit||[];w.ldAdInit.push({slot:13499335648425062,size:[0, 0],id:"ld-7164-1323"});if(!d.getElementById(i)){var j=d.createElement(s),p=d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0];j.async=true;j.src="//cdn2.customads.co/_js/ajs.js";j.id=i;p.parentNode.insertBefore(j,p);}})(window,document,"script","ld-ajs"); Economy https://twitter.com/KobeissiLetter/status/1913328314678219247   people work part-time jobs in the US, the third-highest on record. Millions of Americans are working multiple jobs to afford basic necessities. https://twitter.com/yo/status/1913299922444771752 US Plans Port Fees For Chinese Ships To Revitalize American Maritime Industrial Base The Trump administration announced plans on Thursday to impose new port fees on Chinese commercial vessels—part of a broader effort to revive America's dwindling shipbuilding industry, which officials now view as a national security risk amid the urgent need to bolster hemispheric defense across the Americas in an increasingly fractured, bipolar world. "Ships and shipping are vital to American economic security and the free flow of commerce," U.S. Trade Representative Jamieson Greer wrote in a statement, adding, "The Trump administration's actions will begin to reverse Chinese dominance, address threats to the U.S. supply chain, and send a demand signal for U.S.-built ships." The Federal Register notice titled "Notice of Action and Proposed Action in Section 301 Investigation of China's Targeting the Maritime, Logistics, and Shipbuilding Sectors for Dominance, Request for Comments," published Thursday by the U.S. Trade Representative (USTR), states that new fees will be imposed on all Chinese-built and Chinese-owned ships docking at ports across America. These fees will be based on net tonnage or the volume of goods carried per voyage and will only be charged once per voyage and not per port arrival. "The fee will be set at $0 for the first 180 days, will then be set at $50/NT, and will increase incrementally over the next three years," the USTR notice read. Service Fee on Chinese Vessel Operators and Vessel Owners of China (courtesy of CNBC): Effective as of April 17, 2025, a fee in the amount of $0 per net ton for the arriving vessel. Effective as of October 14, 2025, a fee in the amount of $50 per net ton for the arriving vessel. Effective as of April 17, 2026, a fee in the amount of $80 per net ton for the arriving vessel. Effective as of April 17, 2027, a fee in the amount of $110 per net ton for the arriving vessel. Effective as of April 17, 2028, a fee in the amount of $140 per net ton for the arriving vessel. The USTR notice explained that "any such fee would be charged per rotation or string of U.S. port calls, and no more than five times a year on an individual vessel." Service fees for vessel operators of Chinese-built vessels are lower. Effective as of April 17, 2025, a fee in the amount of $0 for each container discharged. Effective as of October 14, 2025, a fee in the amount of $18 per net ton ($120 per container) Effective as of April 17, 2026, a fee in the amount of $23 per net ton ($153 per container) Effective as of April 17, 2027, a fee in the amount of $28 per net ton ($195 per container)

Niigaan and the Lone Ranger officially shack up, and Eric Grenier from The Writ brings some truth to the campaign trail.

What did you think of this episode?As a Christian writer, strong listening skills can enhance readers' enjoyment. Stay tuned. Today's guest will share three ways to boost your writing-related listening skills.Welcome to Your Best Writing Life, an extension of the Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers Conference held in the beautiful Blue Ridge Mts of NC. I'm your host, Linda Goldfarb. Each week, I bring tips and strategies from writing and publishing industry experts to help you excel in your craft. I'm so glad you're listening in. During this part two episode of Savvy Skills for the Beginning Writer series, you'll learn How Listening Makes Us Better Writers.My industry expert is DiAnn Mills. DiAnn is a bestselling author who believes her readers should expect an adventure. Her titles have appeared on the CBA and ECPA bestseller lists. She has won two Christy Awards, Golden Scroll, and Selah awards, and was a finalist in the RITA, Daphne Du Maurier, Inspirational Readers' Choice, and Carol award contests. DiAnn teaches writing all over the country.Three ways to increase your writerly listening skills:1. Listen with your whole body and mind. Shut out the rest of the world and concentrate on the audible voice.2. Listen with empathy. Put yourself in the speaker's shoes. What differences will this audible contribution make in your writing?3. Listen with purpose. A writer aims to put themselves aside and write as the character.Download DiAnn's How Listening Makes Us Better Writers PDFYou can find out more about DiAnn Mills in our show notes. - diannmills.com - facebook.com/diannmills - x.com/diannmills - diannmills.com/articles - bookbub.com/authors/diann-mills - instagram.com/diannmillsauthor/Visit Your Best Writing Life website.Join our Facebook group, Your Best Writing LifeYour host - Linda Goldfarb#1 Podcast in the "Top 50+ Must-Have Tools and Resources for Christian Writers in 2024". Awarded the Spark Media 2022 Most Binge-Worthy PodcastAwarded the Spark Media 2023 Fan Favorites Best Solo Podcast

Two NASA astronauts left stranded in space for nine months after a Boeing spacecraft malfunction finally made their journey home in a SpaceX capsule. Chuck Schumer ridiculed Americans who dare to suggest that people should be allowed to keep what they earn. The Trump administration has paused $175 million in federal funding to the University of Pennsylvania over the university's insistence on allowing men to compete in women's sports. United States District Judge James Boasberg, who tried to block President Donald Trump's deportation efforts, has a history of stonewalling Trump's immigration policies and spared one of the FBI officials behind the Russiagate hoax from prison. US District Judge Theodore D. Chuang temporarily blocked any further whittling down of USAID. What's the answer to the lawfare? Well, so far, the Department of Justice has urged the Supreme Court to force district courts to abide by their jurisdictional limits. However, the Trump administration has another weapon in its arsenal to force the issue sooner: invoking the writ of prohibition.Become a supporter of Tapp into the Truth: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/tapp-into-the-truth--556114/support Tapp into the Truth on Rumble. Follow, watch the older shows, and join the live streams.If you love high-quality jerky, you need to check out Jerky Snob. They deliver small-batch, artisan jerky straight to your door every month—no MSG, no nitrates, just premium cuts and bold flavors. You can choose from 2, 4, or 8-bag subscriptions, and every delivery brings something new and delicious. One of my favorite things is the variety—spicy, smoky, sweet, all from different craft makers. It's like a jerky tasting adventure every month. Plus, it makes an awesome gift! Grab your subscription at tappintofood.com and treat yourself to better jerky. If recent events have proven anything, you need to be as prepared as possible for when things go sideways. You certainly can't count on the government for help. True liberty requires self-reliance. My Patriot SupplyDiversify and protect your hard-earned wealth. Use America's Premiere Conservative Gold Company, Harvard Gold Group. Use promo code TAPP.Support American jobs! Support the show! Get great products at great prices! Go to My Pillow and use promo code TAPP to save! Visit patriotmobile.com or Call (817) 380-9081 to take advantage of a FREE Month of service when you switch using promo code TAPP! Morning Kick is a revolutionary new daily drink from Roundhouse Provisions that combines ultra-potent greens like spirulina and kale with probiotics, prebiotics, collagen, and even ashwagandha. Just mix with water, stir, and enjoy!If you are a content creator in need of a professional drone or you just enjoy flying a drone on the weekend, EXO Drones has you covered!  EXO Drones Plus, get 15% off your order by using this link.Follow Tapp into the Truth on Locals Follow Tapp into the Truth on SubstackHero SoapPatriot DepotBlue CoolersKoa CoffeeBrainMDDiamond CBDSauce Bae2nd SkullEinstokBeanstoxBelle IsleMomento AIHoneyFund"Homegrown" Boone's BourbonIsland BrandsBlackout Coffee Co.Full Circle Brewing Co.Pasmosa Sangria  

What happens when the voice of a character is so powerful it shatters years of self-doubt? Finnish author Maarta Kaukonen never thought she could write a novel until the night she heard her protagonist Ida, a 20-year-old serial killer, speak to her so clearly that she had to get up and record the words. This moment transformed everything for Kokkonen, who struggled with learning disabilities as a child and spent years believing becoming an author was impossible.In this captivating conversation, Maarta and I explore how the limiting stories we tell ourselves can prevent us from pursuing our dreams, and how sometimes the right catalyst can break through those barriers. Maarta Kaukonen's journey from film critic to internationally published author (her debut "Follow the Butterfly" has now sold in 15 countries and been optioned for television) demonstrates that creative paths rarely follow straight lines.Follow The ButterflyCan she cure a killer?Renowned therapist Clarissa Virtanen isn't afraid to explore the darkest side of humanity. Haunted by the death of a young patient, she will do whatever it takes to save the most vulnerable.But when Ida - angry, damaged and seemingly suicidal - walks into her office, Clarissa may have met her match. For Ida has secrets. Murderous secrets, which mark her like a bloodstain.Somehow, Clarissa must find the key to unlock Ida's past. So she makes a bargain with her - six months to stop Ida taking her own life. But what if she has entered a game more deadly, and more evil, than she could ever imagine?Follow Maarta KaukonenSend us a textSupport the show"Enjoying 'The Conversation'? Support the podcast by buying me a cup of coffee ☕️! Every contribution helps keep the show going.https://ko-fi.com/nadinemathesonDon't forget to subscribe, download and review. You can purchase books by the authors featured in our conversations through my affiliate shop on Bookshop.org. By using this link, you'll be supporting independent bookstores, and I may earn a small commission at no additional cost to you. Follow Me:www.nadinematheson.com BlueSky: @nadinematheson.com Substack: @nadinematheson Instagram: @queennadsThreads: @nadinematheson Facebook: nadinemathesonbooksTikTok: @writer_nadinematheson

Les choses se précisent en ce qui concerne la tenue des élections municipales. Des élections qui sont attendues depuis dix ans maintenant. Selon nos informations, le « Writ of Elections » va être émis par le Président de la République, sur avis du Premier ministre, dans les jours qui viennent. Tous les conseils municipaux seront ainsi dissous lundi. Tout porte à croire que les élections sont programmées pour le dimanche 4 mai 2025. Ces élections concerneront les cinq municipalités de l'île : Port Louis, Beau Bassin-Rose Hill, Quatre Bornes, Vacoas-Phoenix et Curepipe. Dans une déclaration à Top FM, le ministre des collectivités locales précise que ces élections sont l'une des priorités du nouveau gouvernement.

Conservatives weigh in on how the federal Conservative Party should adjust to the dramatic changes facing Canadians, including the trade war with the US and a new Liberal leader. We hear what the party need to know to keep your vote, with Conservative strategist Shak Chambers from Oyster Group and poll analyst Eric Grenier, founder of The Writ podcast. 

Start Artist Song Time Album Year Errant Mind The Admonishing (Part 1 Edit) 8:32 Writ 2025 0:09:50 Errant Mind Stillness 5:49 Writ 2025 0:16:29 Errant Mind State of Mind 8:33 Writ 2025 0:26:18 Vitskär Süden War Machine Crimson 6:17 Vitskär Süden 2025 Vientos Moderados del Este El Discurso de Despedida 6:01 Un Manual de Signos […]

Quebec Economy Minister Christopher Skeete responds to a new wave of U.S. President Donald Trump's near-daily attacks on Canada, including his claim that the U.S. doesn't need Canada's cars, lumber or food. Plus, The Writ's Éric Grenier breaks down polling from Ontario ahead of a provincial election call, and looks at whether the federal Liberal leadership race is improving the party's election chances.

OPINION: Free speech, writ of habeas data and the time of reckoning for fact-checking | Jan. 14, 2025Visit our website at https://www.manilatimes.netFollow us:Facebook - https://tmt.ph/facebookInstagram - https://tmt.ph/instagramTwitter - https://tmt.ph/twitterDailyMotion - https://tmt.ph/dailymotionSubscribe to our Digital Edition - https://tmt.ph/digitalSign up to our newsletters: https://tmt.ph/newslettersCheck out our Podcasts:Spotify - https://tmt.ph/spotifyApple Podcasts - https://tmt.ph/applepodcastsAmazon Music - https://tmt.ph/amazonmusicDeezer: https://tmt.ph/deezerStitcher: https://tmt.ph/stitcherTune In: https://tmt.ph/tunein#TheManilaTimes Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

With Sonnet 115 William Shakespeare turns his attention to the perplexing paradox that a love that is experienced as complete and absolute and therefore perfect, such as his love for his young man, may turn out, over time, to have been but a fledgling infant compared to the even fuller, more profound, more mature love that it has the potential to grow into. In acknowledging that love can evolve and grow over time it sets the premise that love itself is changeable – here for the better, to be more deeply and more sincerely felt than ever before – and it therefore not only concedes, but claims as a lover's right, the necessity, perhaps, to revise statements made about love in the past, and in doing so to effectively give those pronouncements the lie.

Celebrating a remarkable milestone, we bring you the 100th episode of "The Conversation with Nadine Matheson," featuring the award winning and bestselling author M.W. Craven. We talk about the serendipitous events that shaped Craven's career, from a fateful book signing encounter that set the course for his success, to the powerful role of networking within the crime writing community. Craven's journey is filled with tales of unexpected luck, chance meetings, the importance of being in the right place at the right time ,the challenges of fighting a bear (That last part will make sense) and his latest book in the Washington Poe series, The Final Vow. The Final VowThe Mercy ChairAre you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin . . .Washington Poe has a story to tell.And he needs you to listen.You'll hear how it started with the robber birds. Crows. Dozens of them. Enough for a murder . . .He'll tell you about a man who was tied to a tree and stoned to death, a man who had tattooed himself with a code so obscure, even the gifted analyst Tilly Bradshaw struggled to break it. He'll tell you how the man's murder was connected to a tragedy that happened fifteen years earlier when a young girl massacred her entire family.And finally, he'll tell you about the mercy chair. And why people would rather kill themselves than talk about it . . .Poe hopes you've been paying attention. Because in this story, nothing is as it seems . . .Follow M.W. CravenSend us a textSupport the show"Enjoying 'The Conversation'? Support the podcast by buying me a cup of coffee ☕️! Every contribution helps keep the show going.https://ko-fi.com/nadinemathesonDon't forget to subscribe, download and review. You can purchase books by the authors featured in our conversations through my affiliate shop on Bookshop.org. By using this link, you'll be supporting independent bookstores, and I may earn a small commission at no additional cost to you.Follow Me:www.nadinematheson.com Threads: @nadinematheson Facebook: nadinemathesonbooksInstagram: @queennadsTikTok: @writer_nadinemathesonBlueSky: @nadinematheson.bsky.social

In this episode we take a look at the brief in support of a writ of mandamus or a writ of prohibition court filing.(commercial at 10:17)to contact me:bobbycapucci@protonmail.comsource:Microsoft Word - Media Coalition_Kohberger Gag Order - Brief in Support of Petition for Writ of Mandamus(118338028.6) (idaho.gov)

In this episode we take a look at the brief in support of a writ of mandamus or a writ of prohibition court filing.(commercial at 10:17)to contact me:bobbycapucci@protonmail.comsource:Microsoft Word - Media Coalition_Kohberger Gag Order - Brief in Support of Petition for Writ of Mandamus(118338028.6) (idaho.gov)

This was a fun, frothy Monday crossword by Ailee Yoshida, her second for the NYTimes. The theme was (as always) ingenious, and, being a Monday, the grid was populated with words that we mainly know. It did have two debut answers (19A, Tidbit in a nutritious pudding: CHIASEED; 23A, Department handling media inquiries: PRESSOFFICE) and one not seen since 1984, 43D, Lip-plumping injection, FILLER. For the record, in 1984 FILLER had no connection, whatsoever, with Lips.Show note imagery: A WRIT, writ large

In the U.S., so-called "per se" antitrust crimes require nothing more than proof that the conduct occurred, relieving prosecutors of the difficult job of proving harm to competition. Is the Fourth Circuit's 2023 opinion in U.S. v. Brewbaker part of a growing judicial trend toward limiting the prosecution of per se cases? Ann O'Brien, the co-leader of Sheppard Mullin's Antitrust and Competition Practice Group, joins Alicia Downey and Brendan Coffman to talk about Brewbaker and its implications for applying the per se standard in criminal antitrust actions. Listen to this episode to hear about whether the rule of reason might be applied in the criminal context and the U.S. Department of Justice's possible responses to a changing legal landscape. With special guest: Ann M. O'Brien, Partner, Sheppard Mullin Richter & Hampton LLP Related Links: Ann O'Brien & Emme Tyler, “Chipping Away at Per Se: Is Brewbaker a Harbinger or Aberration?” ABA Antitrust Law Section Committee Articles (June 6, 2024) United States v. Brewbaker, 87 F.4th 563 (4th Cir. 2023) United States v. Brewbaker, Petition for a Writ of Certiorari of the United States, No.23-1365 (S. Ct. June 28, 2024) Hosted by: Alicia Downey, Downey Law LLC and Brendan Coffman, Wilson Sonsini Goodrich & Rosati

This week on The Numbers, we break down the latest federal polling that continues to look rough for Justin Trudeau. Next week's byelection in the B.C. riding of Cloverdale–Langley City also looks rough for the Liberals, as the Conservatives appear likely to flip the seat that has gone back and forth between the two parties since 2015. We also take a look at the latest premier approval ratings, how things are shaping up for Doug Ford in Ontario and just who is the favourite in next week's Alberta provincial byelection in Lethbridge-West.Note to listeners: I suggest transitioning over to the dedicated podcast feed for The Numbers, as in the new year I intend to reserve this feed for episodes of The Writ Podcast. You can follow The Numbers on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Pocket Casts, PodcastAddict or wherever you listen to podcasts. New episodes will still be sent out via email to subscribers of The Writ, but it will be embedded in the email, rather than sent to the podcast feed.Want even more of The Numbers? Members of our Patreon get extra mailbag episodes every week and special episodes monthly, as well as access to our Discord. You can get these exclusives and support our joint project by becoming a member of our Patreon here.As always, in addition to listening to the episode in your inbox or at TheWrit.ca, you can also watch this episode on YouTube. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.thewrit.ca/subscribe

We sit down with The Writ's Eric Grenier to talk about political polling and what Canadians cared about in 2024.Mark your calendars! We are back January 24th 2025.Happy Holidays (Merry Christmas) to our amazing community!See you in 2025!

This is The Briefing, a daily analysis of news and events from a Christian worldview.Part I (00:13 - 17:17)The Morality of Minimum Wage: The Big Ideology Behind Minimum Wage and Why a Minimum Wage Isn't as Just as Politicians Want You to BelieveThe Two Moralities of the Minimum Wage by The Independent Review (Dwight R. Lee)Minimum wage set to rise in 23 states next year as $15 an hour, and beyond, picks up steam by USA Today (Paul Davidson)Part II (17:17 - 23:48)SCOTUS and the Writ of Certiorari: The History of How SCOTUS Achieved the Right to Decide Which Cases It Will or Will Not TakePart III (23:48 - 26:37)The Legal Questions SCOTUS is Asking: How Your Vote for President Ricochets All the Way to the Issues SCOTUS Decides to Take Up Each TermSign up to receive The Briefing in your inbox every weekday morning.Follow Dr. Mohler:X | Instagram | Facebook | YouTubeFor more information on The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, go to sbts.edu.For more information on Boyce College, just go to BoyceCollege.com.To write Dr. Mohler or submit a question for The Mailbox, go here.

Four new polls put the Liberals and New Democrats within zero to two points of each other — and behind the Conservatives by margins of 19 to 23 points. We delve into the numbers and what they mean for each of the parties. Has Justin Trudeau's promised GST holiday helped or hurt his chances?We also discuss provincial polls coming out of Ontario and Quebec, where two incumbent premiers (Doug Ford and François Legault) face two very different futures.Note to listeners: I suggest transitioning over to the dedicated podcast feed for The Numbers, as in the new year I intend to reserve this feed for episodes of The Writ Podcast. You can follow The Numbers on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Pocket Casts, PodcastAddict or wherever you listen to podcasts. New episodes will still be sent out via email to subscribers of The Writ, but it will be embedded in the email, rather than sent to the podcast feed.Want even more of The Numbers? Members of our Patreon get extra mailbag episodes every week and special episodes monthly, as well as access to our Discord. You can get these exclusives and support our joint project by becoming a member of our Patreon here.As always, in addition to listening to the episode in your inbox or at TheWrit.ca, you can also watch this episode on YouTube. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.thewrit.ca/subscribe

A new poll, employing a new methodology, has the Conservatives at their highest and the Liberals at their lowest levels of support in years — maybe even a decade. What to make of it?On this week's episode of The Numbers, we also break down Tim Houston's PC landslide in the Nova Scotia election and take a look at some recent polls out of Newfoundland and Labrador and Prince Edward Island.Note to listeners: I suggest transitioning over to the dedicated podcast feed for The Numbers, as in the new year I intend to reserve this feed for episodes of The Writ Podcast. You can follow The Numbers on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Pocket Casts, PodcastAddict or wherever you listen to podcasts. New episodes will still be sent out via email to subscribers of The Writ, but it will be embedded in the email, rather than sent to the podcast feed.Want even more of The Numbers? Members of our Patreon get extra mailbag episodes every week and special episodes monthly, as well as access to our Discord. You can get these exclusives and support our joint project by becoming a member of our Patreon here.As always, in addition to listening to the episode in your inbox or at TheWrit.ca, you can also watch this episode on YouTube. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.thewrit.ca/subscribe

Finishing the normal weekend.In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand.Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected..“Being an asshole is not so much a matter of anatomy as one of social consciousness.”(Where we left off)"Bitch, did you just Taser my fiancé?" Orlando's lady stood up. Orlando was struggling back up as well."You are questioning the obvious," Estere mused as she dropped the device. She deftly pulled out what I thought was a compact Bersa 9 and began applying a silencer.It was sort of amazing that no one was screaming yet, then it dawned on me that we were in a soundproofed room and Estere was standing at the only exit."Would you have preferred I use this?" the Hashashin killer motioned with her firearm."How did you get a gun in here?" Brennan stammered. He looked ready to pee himself, so tonight was coming out in spades."Estere," I greeted the woman from Kurdistan. "Those two are okay," motioning to Orlando and his lady. "He's got some testosterone issues; I'm sure you understand.""Is this a kidnapping?" Anima sounded rather upbeat."Your rung on the Ladder of Heaven is not high," Estere commented to Anima. "Your outlook is not promising either. Silence is your best option, so exercise it.""Cáel, do you know this woman?" Libra had begun piecing things together; as in; my life was so crazy that women with guns showing up was much too common an occurrence. I thought about 'Yes Honey, she's a member of an 11th century mystic order of Nazri Ismailis assassins. In fact, her people gave us the word assassin'. Telling the truth at this juncture didn't seem wise, so;"Yes, Estere and I are old pals," I lied. "She's a freelance archivist, genealogist and an Olmec-tastic historical pioneer." Don't bother looking it up; Olmec-tastic is a made up word; it is the crunching of Olmec (a Mesoamerican pre-Columbian culture) and '-tastic' which means; I guess it is a truncated form of 'fantastic'."You mean she's in 'record reduction', the same as you?" Casper whispered."Precisely!" I grinned her way. "Except she's got a Masters diploma on some wall somewhere alongside the shrunken heads of her first three victims; I mean clients; Clients!" Why was I blathering? There was a strange (to most of the room) woman between us and the only exit and panicking would suck; big time.Pause."So, Orlando," I restarted things, "are you going to get up and attempt to kick my ass, causing my friend here to shoot you, or can I return to explaining to Brennan how the world is NOT his oyster and I'm willing to slam anal beads made of flesh-eating scarabs up his rectum to prove it?"That was a gross visual, even for me. A momentary pause as Brooke and her new friend wedged their way toward me (and the girl with the gun)."Every time we meet," Estere observed, "you are surrounded with a curtain of women.""Sucks to be me?" I shrugged."At least these are sheep," she noted. That didn't go over well. Libra confronted Estere."Hey now, you can't talk about us that way," Libra insisted."Or what?" Estere regarded her."Or; or, Cáel will make you stop," Libra growled; THEN looked at me. Wrong sequence of events."Libra," I pulled her back into my embrace, "I've been on the job about a month. She's been making character-building life decisions since before I hit puberty.""What was that; a month ago," Brennan snorted. A yelp followed. Estere had shot at him. "What the fuck!" he staggered back into his seat. "You shot me.""No, I shot 'at' you. Had I shot you, you would be bleeding," Estere glowered. "I am not one of Cáel's normal guardians. I take insults to any women as a personal affront; a sickness best dealt with in a pain-filled, educational fashion. You are not bleeding because that would displease Cáel. Now say 'thank you' in the next ten seconds, or be prepared to go through life as a eunuch."Brennan looked to Orlando in hopes he had some secret mojo to handle this situation."Dumbass," Orlando snarled at Brennan, "you are the punk who put us in a room with only one damn exit. I'm not taking a bullet for you.""You are the martial artist," Brennan snapped back. "Do something!""Brennan, you had better say something quick." Casper urged her host."I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Brennan whined."I have crippled supplicants for groveling with twice that level of passion, Cáel Ishara," Estere stared at me. She began removing her silencer. "Cáel and I have unfinished business, so I will let this pathetic insult pass."She shoulder holstered her weapon and moved to sit at my side. The problem was the passel of ladies around me. Estere looked past the last woman (Brooke) to the somewhat stupefied rich thing beside her."Move," she stated politely. Unlike my difficulties earlier, the whole crowd quickly shuffled down to make space.That tiny hiccup settled, we returned to the abnormal activities of the Illusions Gentlemen's Club's private room. Some of us had fun. A few, used to tormenting the staff, found themselves shooting fearful looks Estere's way whenever they began to act out. I took a few seconds to quietly talk to Estere, now that I had some breathing room."I talked with Ishara; the Goddess," I related. "She's pissed with the Host right now and I'm not sure what to do." Divulging information? Yes. I needed help somewhat badly."Your Order has been out of balance for some time," Estere counseled. "Without balance, there can be no true strength. You are dying out and there must be a blemish behind that; some cancer eating away at the foundation of your belief system."Wow; actually useful. Essentially ; I needed to stay the course."Cool. Thanks Estere," I smiled. "Can I plumb the depths of your knowledge for two more pieces of advice?" We both knew what 'plumb' really meant. I pulled out the necklace from beneath my shirt. "An Earth and Sky envoy sent me this gift, but; the message didn't make it.""What would a suitable gift be and how would I find the person in New York City?" I asked."That is not a gift," Estere smiled warmly. "That is a token of passage from a Beg of the E and S; essentially a regional commander. Pretty impressive. Unfortunately, he, or she, is expecting you to return it at some pre-described place and time; which was probably stated in the message you never received.""My turn," she twisted in her bench seat and placed her left leg over me then inserted it between my legs. "What will be the fate of our daughter?""She will automatically be a member of the Host. Heritage passes through the male line. If she has the genetics that conspire against fate, then she would be in the running to become Head of House.""Not automatic?" she questioned."No. Such things, at least while decided by me, will be based upon merit. I couldn't keep faith with the members of the House otherwise," I explained."Would she be allowed to be passed between us?" was the next question."Absolutely. Not only am I a huge fan of motherhood; I see such an education making her stronger and more flexible when dealing with issues with outsiders," I assured Estere."You act freely. Don't you have to consult your High Priestess; perhaps the Council?" she mused. "I must seek direction from my superiors.""Over the welfare of my children? Nope, not happening. The daughters and sons of; the House are our responsibility as a group. We do not need the other Houses meddling in our affairs," I stated."That is good," she snuggled up even tighter. Sadly for that romantic moment, we had less romantic company to contend with.(Later that Night)Why was I still at Casa da Sulkanen? Brennan couldn't take a hint, buy a clue, or learn a lesson. Why was Estere with us? It was the Pamela factor. Who was going to tell her to leave? After five, non-continuous hours of sex with three women (Casper still hadn't come over to our side yet), how was I still standing? Simply put, I wasn't.Brooke and I were in the nicely heated pool, her arms wrapped around my neck, mine massaging her naked ass and us doing a little whisper/snicker/tickle/giggle game that is very whimsical and hard to explain. Brooke went from micro-orgasm to micro-orgasm to the Big One. Fortunately, our mutual experience allowed me to be in water shallow enough that my toes could touch bottom."I've decided I'm not jealous of Estere," Brooke panted into my ear. "I see the happiness in your eyes when we make love. I think you and I are doing okay." Not quite a Writ of Possession. I was working out the uncomplicated response when our gentle, body-bonded, circular motion caused Brooke to tense up. I followed her gaze to the lounge chair where we had stacked up our belongings, and the dark, dark blonde-haired women sitting in it.Her dress was business chic yet rumpled. Her eyes had the lines of someone who spent too much time looking at a computer screen and she looked mentally and emotionally drained."Good evening," I greeted her. I steered Brooke toward the closest ladder only to realize that even our towels were by her seat. There was nothing we could do but face the situation head on."I'm Cáel Nyilas and my beautiful friend here is Brooke Lee," I made our introductions. "Please excuse our condition, but we weren't expecting company at this hour by the pool.""You are not my brother's normal flock of seagulls," she commented. "Hana Sulkanen, by the way." The way 'seagulls' rolled off her tongue, I knew she meant 'winged rats' instead of any true avian.Oh cool; she had a Carnegie-Melon ring. Oh cool; she was watching my still erect penis bobbing her way. I thought a little damage control/diplomacy was in order."As I said, I'm Cáel. I work as an intern at Havenstone Commercial Investments. Brooke recently graduated Vassar, was going to get married to some other guy, but that fell through a little while ago," I directed the conversation to Brooke and I not being parasites."School?" Hana inquired. So much for that."Bolingbrook in New Hampshire," I answered."Never heard of it," she yawned. Brooke simmered with outrage over that."You and 99.99% of North America," I joked. "It doesn't change the fact that I kick ass at my job, am constantly underestimated and enjoy making my own way in the world.""And you consider making your own way in the world to be swimming in my father's pool at four in the morning?" she snorted. Her drink was a V-8. No alcohol for her."We came because Cáel's father was murdered this week," Brooke snapped. "He needed a break." That brought a few seconds."Really now," she regarded me studiously. Out came the E-device."Ferko Nyilas; Burnham Illinois which is a suburb of Chicago," I fed her the pertinent data. Brooke was even unhappier that I felt compelled to verify her statement, so I distracted her by suggesting we gather our belongings."Your father was killed in a gun battle; still under investigation," Hana muttered."Are you some sort of criminal? Was your father?" she probed."Ah, I see you possess the same level of common courtesy as your brother, Brennan," I responded. "To answer the first and only question I feel like answering; no; making my own way in the world means I don't answer the questions of exhausted, over-extended, junior plutocrats who somehow assume they can provide any useful input to my life."Verbal hammer to her facial self-esteem. Hana was a 'producer' in that she had a job she felt she deserved, worked at it to some acclaim and added to her family's productivity; the opposite of Brennan."If you feel insulted, by all means leave, Mr. Nyilas," Hana glared."Oh, thank God," I sighed happily. I began dressing, as did Brooke. Hana looked uncertain."Cáel's been looking for a cordial excuse to get us out of here since we arrived," Brooke explained. "I imagine I should thank you. I wasn't sure how I'd keep Cáel from punching out your little brother over breakfast." Hana looked out-maneuvered."What is that?" Hana pointed to my horse-hoof necklace. She almost reached for it, then politesse kicked in."It is gift from a stranger," I told her. "It is from Central Asia.""May I see it?" she inquired. I nodded, then handed it over."Looks old," she muttered. "The language; it's not Uzbek;” Seeing the curious look on my face, "I do some business for my step-father in the old SSR's, so I've picked up some of the languages." Then, "I swear it's Chagatai." (SSR = Soviet Socialist Republics.)"Where is that from?" Brooke leaned in."Nowhere today. For 500 years, it was the lingua franca of the Turkish people ; until the Soviets wiped it out a hundred years ago. They wanted Russian to be the unifying language, so they promoted regional tongues and regulated Chagatai to the long list of dead languages," she answered.I added my attempt at Russian conversation; "In Soviet Russia, you do not speak a language, a language speaks for you." I joked.Hana snorted. Then replied in her Russian; "Be careful comrade, or your cleverness might get you promoted to the rank of apparatchik," she snickered. I feigned horror."No!" Brooke protested. "Speak something I can understand, damn it."I quickly translated for Brooke as the three of us migrated inside. Hana led us to a third, and newer, section of the estate. The goal was her purse and the reading glasses there in. Compared to the few bedrooms we'd seen, Hana's room was rather austere."Well, I know Uzbek and this is similar; say Canterbury Tales English to Modern American," she mused."The only thing I know for sure is that it belonged to Shahrukh Mirza of the House of Barlas," she read off several of the symbols. No one said anything. "Please don't tell me you found this at some rummage sale, or flea market." she grew intense."No. As I said earlier, it was a gift and given with the understanding it would be returned at a future place and time," I told her."Too bad. I would pay a pretty penny for this," she held it up to the light for further examination."I'm not one of those dreamers that feels money cheapens stuff and blah; blah; blah. Money has its uses," I countered. "I also believe some things are priceless. They either can't, or shouldn't, be sold. As I said, this was a gift meant to be returned.""Maybe you can put me in touch with the owner so I can make them an offer," Hana suggested."I'd do that except that I have no idea who gave it to me, or where I am to return it," I shrugged. Hana was now looking for some deception on my part. "It was delivered to my place of work and a person who intercepted the necklace destroyed the message that came with it.""Well, I hope they got a stiff reprimand, if not outright loss of employment," Hana sighed."Oh no," I chuckled. "That's not the Havenstone way. My people and I are going to stalk her and her people down and then beat/stab/scar each and every one of them. What she did wasn't a mistake. This was a direct and calculated insult that only blood will cleanse.""That sounds positively Old Testament," Hana nodded."Cáel's women don't kid around," Brooke added."Really, now. What is it exactly that you do?" Hana asked me."This should be good," Brooke muttered through her saucy grin."I'm a facilitator for an aerospace project with our R and D division," I feigned concentration. "Its high-tech stuff; I don't understand all the details. I'm relatively positive we are creating nano-thin, artificial polymers for balloons aimed at space. You know, fill up the aerial unit with Helium, create a powerful x-direction buoyancy then let the package accelerate into high orbit.""I've never heard of anything like that," Hana furrowed her brow."Neither has anyone else before now," Brooke laughed, then hugged me. "The miraculous part is; I think he creates these employment opportunities off the cuff; no rehearsal.""Wait; you just lied to me?" Hana grew petulant."Yes, I did and I apologize, Hana," I looked rather shamefaced. "I work as an intern for Executive Services. I am also on the Board of Directors, but that's a truth best gotten into at another time.""Oh; if you are on the Board of Directors for Havenstone, how can you be an intern?" Hana frowned."I was given the position on the board, I earned the position of intern," I answered. "Being a guiding force for a corporation I know nothing about is rather stupid, in my book.""I couldn't agree more," Hana said thoughtfully and seemed make a severe weather-vane shift. Brooke stifled a yawn rather unsuccessfully and it quickly made a circuit of our little troupe. It was bedtime for us all.(Breakfast and fast breaks)I could have used a good deal more sleep. But I knew working out and jogging were better for my body and soul. Brooke and Libra acted as if I had betrayed their friendship in favor of torture. Estere took secretive amusement at their suffering and at my ability to stress myself as hard as I did. She had already enjoyed the physical benefits of my exercise mania last night.A wonderful distraction to the whole ordeal (beyond listening to Libra and Brooke spit death curses at me between ragged gasps of breath) was the rising sun setting the Atlantic Ocean on fire.We had been summoned for breakfast at 9:30 am. That translated to me and three lady companions showing up to an overly large dining room on time to find Hana already there.The South wall was a series of French doors, all open, whose long white curtains billowed in the morning breeze. It was a bit chilly for our 'beach casual' attire, yet survivable. A staffer I hadn't seen before verbally related this morning's menu; blink. By quick consensus, we agreed to order the same things to make our orders easier to recall.In hindsight, that was probably unnecessary. The woman servicing us was very professional. She was also sympathetic enough to our efforts at kindness to acknowledge it. The vigor with which we demolished our fruit bowls caused Hana to chuckle."Building up your energy reserves?" she teased us. Libra and Estere didn't know Hana."He made us run this morning," Brooke griped. "It was utter Hell.""On the beach?" Hana asked me."Yeah," I replied."Try running along the road next time," Hana snorted. "It is easier on the arches."Libra hit me with a backhand to the bicep."Asshole," she glowered. "You had better get those magic fingers to work on my calves when breakfast is over.""What's in it for me?" I countered."Oh, have mercy, Cáel," Brooke pleaded. "You do this every day; as does Estere apparently, but Libra and I don't. Help us out here.""We have a masseuse," Hana offered. "He's very good. I can give him a call and have him come over from the spa.""Please do, Ms. Sulkanen. I'm feeling a real yen for some time alone this morning," I requested."I can do that, Cáel, and call me Hanna," she finished just as;"Hey Hana," Brennan yawned as he came stumbling into the room wearing boxers and nothing more. "Brooke, Kibble, Lisa," he added. His not unimpressive cock was strategically placed in the opening.Hana rolled her eyes in disgust. Brooke snickered. Libra did one better."I didn't know they made them that small," she said to Brooke who began giggling."Shut up, you lesbian freak," Brennan's amusement evaporated to bitterness. The attendant showed up, got his order and then the orders of the next two to stagger in.The low course of the conversation included the arrival of Orlando and his fiancée, only to dissipate with the appearance of Anima leading Casper. Casper could barely take her seat, even with Anima's help. Anima's look was victorious and challenging. Casper; she was stoned, wasted and not in anything approaching her right mind. Her body was sweaty and her hair was slick.The kicker was the splotches of dried semen and vaginal fluid on Casper's face."Say 'hi' to Cáel," Anima pressed the issue."Hi," Casper waved as her body swayed. Hana was uncomfortable. Libra and Brooke were furious. Estere was; studious. Anima's eyes remained lock on mine.I pulled out my phone and began taking pictures of the participants. By the time I made it to Brennan, he was laughing and joking at my efforts. Orlando had a different tack."What are you doing?" he menaced."Life should be about moral decisions, compassion and consequences," I related drolly. "You made your call last night. Live with it."I finished the photo session while Orlando was still trying to figure out what was going on. I had to use my phone for a different function."Buffy, I'm sending you several pictures of people who think they are above the law. Those people raped, or facilitated the rape of the woman in the final picture," I told the First of House Ishara. "I cautioned those people about appropriate behavior last night.""They chose to ignore me. The legal system can't touch them. I don't know what a proper punishment for such a horrendous act is, so I thought you might give me some council on this matter," I added. Long pause."Don't worry about it, Cáel," Buffy responded in a ghostly voice."Take care and I'll see you on Monday," I finished up. She hung up and that was it."That was spooky," Brennan chuckled. "How about I make a scary phone call and mention the words 'Cáel' and 'trash collection'?"I ignored him."I could call the sheriff and have you charged with menacing."I continued to ignore him."Stop serving him," he snapped at the server as she came to my plate."Serve him breakfast, Donna (the server)," Hana interrupted. "He's my guest, Brennan, so no longer your worry." I didn't acknowledge Hana's kindness as this was still part of a family feud and I wasn't family. I'd thank her later. The Vacuous Think Tank members weren't done yet. The privileged shit-heads began playing a video on their ultimate phone devices, sexually feeble soundtrack included.Deep down in Casper's mind she began to put the current audio input to her recent nightmare. Tears fell down her cheeks. On the video, the name 'Casper' was used enough to move it past the throws of ecstasy into the realm of sorry-ass amateur date-rape porn."We may have broken Casper a teensy bit," Anima feigned sincere regret well."Oh," I chuckled, "it is too late for word play now, Anima. That train has left the station and the whole crew here missed it. I warned you about slithering horrors and the beautification of humanity. Here is the final lesson;""Fuck you and your bullshit," Brennan mocked me."Brennan; my guest," Hana insisted. His response was to blather some noise; nah, nah, nah; an act several of his playmates took up. It was a display more appropriate for 5 year olds than men and women above the age of consent. Estere tapped Brooke next to her, motioning with her fork to a melon ball in her bowl. After a momentarily confusion Brooke tossed the melon up.Estere tossed the fork, skewering it with enough force to sail past me and land on Libra's plate. Two more exhibits, including the final one that had her spitting her thrown melon on a tumbling fork and Estere turned on Brennan, fork ready. The melons were nearly the size of eyeballs."Do it and go to jail for fucking ever," Brennan tried to 'man-up'."Diplomatic immunity," she smiled. "I doubt the government of Azerbaijan will give a rat's ass about you and your drug-consuming, alcohol-guzzling, whoring lifestyle. The worst that happens to me is that I have to go home for a few months. You will be blind forever." Estere revealed her second fork."Not this morning, Bitch," Orlando stood up. "I'm not afraid of forks and side-show tricks." I stood up as well, but went in a different direction. Brennan was at the top of the table; Hana was at the bottom. Casper and Anima were on the opposite side of the table and closer to Hana so that was the route I took.Anima, Brennan and Orlando had a problem. Estere was threatening Brennan. I was clearly coming to retrieve Casper. The quandary was which way Orlando went; he couldn't both safeguard Brennan and stop me. I was pretty sure that Brennan was convinced Orlando would come his aid because of his role as paymaster.Orlando Keyes wasn't a thug, or a dog. He was a tactician and he planned to win this fight. Contrary to my desires, that meant I came first. I was far closer and getting nearer all the time. Even if Estere managed to fork out one of Brennan's eyes, Estere couldn't contribute to the fight with me quickly enough to make a difference."Casper, you want to stay with your friends, don't you?" Anima cooed to her victim. Casper's head bobbled, making a tragic contrast to her tears. Hana had done as much as she dared at this juncture. Orlando came closer, snatching up an unused chair to counter my knife. I backed up. It was my only true choice.Charging forth against Orlando certainly would have been romantic. It would have also been futile. I couldn't beat the man; hurting him didn't equate to actually winning. Estere blinding Brennan accomplished nothing. When I had back-pedaled to Hana, Orlando relented. Once his bladder-weakening fear turned into post-survival euphoria, Brennan started laughing."Fucking dipshit," he sneered. The thump of helicopter blades began dominating perceptions. "I knew you didn't have it in you. You are a wimp and a chicken-shit coward." Brooke and Libra were worried and confused."He could not win against Mr. Keyes," Estere stated to them. "Getting pummeled would have been a wasteful gesture.""Oh, now you are his apologist." a random fuck-nut snorted. The helicopter kept getting closer."What about Casper?" Brooke worried. Anima smirked at the show of heartfelt concern."They haven't gotten her out of the room yet," Estere pointed out. "Once they depart the table we will be able to double-team Mr. Keyes and break him. The aftermath is an absolute certainty.""I don't think so," Orlando challenged."Oh yes," Estere grinned wolfishly. "Once we have you on the ground, I'm going to shatter your palms then tear off your fingers. Pull up, twist and snap; I've done it several times; it is quick and easy. If you think you can continue your career without fists, by all means, stay on your present course of action.""What is it that you do again?" Hana asked Estere."I'm a; a freelance archivist, genealogist and an Olmec-tastic historical pioneer; according to Cáel anyway," she answered."From Azerbaijan?" Hana murmured."I never said I was from there, only that I have diplomatic status with their UN mission," Estere clarified. Hana said something in an unknown tongue to which Estere responded. Their conversation lasted about one minute."We both speak Farsi, though mine is 'schooled' and hers has a Tabriz accent," Hana enlightened us."I apologize for last night, Cáel," Hana nodded. "I mistook you for one of my little step-brother's normal crowd of useless nitwits. You appear to be both smart and know interesting people." 'And how', I muttered internally."I take it your daughter is with Philip," Brennan intervened. "Miss her?"By this time, the helicopter had traversed the ocean-side view of the villa and was humming its way to the east end of the estate. Philip must have been Hana's divorced whatever who most likely had alternating weekends of child custody."Cáel, you mentioned something about a 'final lesson'," Hana turned to me."Only this: there was a woman who trusted a man. She decided to leave him; so he, and a few buddies, held her down and gang-raped her for two days. When they passed out, she didn't run away, or call the police. No, she took a baseball bat and knocked them into la-la land. She secured them with garbage ties, woke them up by stabbing them in non-vital areas and then proceeded to castrate each and every one with a dull kitchen knife.She went to prison, got out and put her life back together. She eventually rose to a position of some importance and influence with various questionable characters at her command," I continued. "If confronted with a similar situation, especially when money renders justice mute, I'm not sure what this woman would do to assuage her haunted memories.""Do you really want to put poor Casper up on the top twenty free porn sites, Cáel?" Anima pouted."Not my concern anymore," I sighed. "I put the facts out there. What other people make of that information is no longer under my control. From here on out, it doesn't matter what you do, Anima. You've chosen to act in a heinous manner, as have the rest of your crowd; Orlando and his lady included.""If something happens;” Orlando rumbled."You will do nothing," Estere laughed. "You can do nothing. I know the person of whom Cáel speaks and there is nothing you can do, nowhere you can hide where she will not find all of you and balance karmic accounts.""We didn't do anything," the fiancée proclaimed."Standing back and abetting a vile deed is hardly an effective defense," Estere stared with pitiless eyes. "Did you attempt to alter Mr. Keyes' course of actions; you clearly could have? You did not. Mr. Keyes safeguarded the perpetrators of the heinous deed, and thus both of you are condemned by that crime."The boot was on the other foot now for Orlando. He couldn't come at me. He couldn't come at Estere. None of the 'men' on his side were going to stand up to any pain while Brooke and Libra, though unschooled, looked ready to be a serious nuisance. That meant Orlando would be fighting Estere and I simultaneously; and he would lose.Worse, he would lose over a phone call that might not mean a thing. Oh, Estere and I were confident retribution was coming his way and that was unsettling. It wouldn't hold up in court and Hana's presence negated everyone else's legal immunity, except for Brennan who remained her family- the nut sack. Anima's gaze shifted from me to Libra, which my girl found unsettling."Cáel, what is going to happen; over this and getting Casper back?" Libra whispered. For starters, we hadn't rescued Casper yet, so there was no 'getting her back'."Libra, you've seen the scars crisscrossing my body; the bruises and sore ribs I've suffered through," I told her."Those were from the co-workers who hold deep and abiding affection toward me," I continued. "Imagine what they are capable of inflicting on those they do not like. Think about what they might do if they thought I was in danger and distressed. Couple that with the intimate knowledge of exactly what Casper has gone through ; is going through, and then draw your own conclusions." There was a pause while the others ate and Libra digested the information."Are we ever going to see Trent again?" she leaned in and whispered."It can be done, but that it isn't something either of you would enjoy," I whispered out of the side of my mouth. Sending Brooke and Libra on a one-way flight to Indonesia/Philippines definitely wasn't part of my life plan. It was the safest way to let her know Trent was alive."Does Brooke know?" Libra nudged me quietly. I shook my head. "Does Trent?" Another head shake. Pause. "That day in the office; when Trent dumped Brooke; you really were trying to keep us from harm, weren't you?""Yes," I mouthed. "Now eat up."The helicopter noises had a purpose and the consequences entered the dining room as breakfast was winding down. It was Jormo and Misty Sulkanen, aka Dad and Wife #3."Brennan," Jormo said in a neutral voice. We, Brennan's guests, barely rated a glance."Hana," Dad greeted his step-daughter with much more affection."Hey Dad," Brennan laughed. "You've almost missed Orlando here busting up Kibble," he waved a fork at me."Good Morning, Father," Hana waved, "Misty.""Kibble?" Jormo sighed, distracted from his path further into the villa by his son's statement."That would be me, Mr. and Mrs. Sulkanen," I swallowed a piece of my omelet quickly and raised my hand, "though my fellow homo sapiens call me Cáel Nyilas.""Mr. Nyilas, along with Brooke, Libra and Estere have agreed to be MY guests for the weekend," Hana added."Very well," her dad nodded. "Mr. Keyes, your endorsement contract with 'Fitness Tech' doesn't include you getting into fights on my behalf, or my son's." Mr. Sulkanen must have owned Fitness Tech, thus Brennan's believed power over an athlete endorsing some product."It also doesn't stop me from getting into unsanctioned bouts," Orlando glared at me. The tension was broken by Casper starting to sob loudly and uncontrollably.We all did the standing-up game once more. This time Casper saw me coming back for her and stood up. Anima tried to calm the shaken woman. Orlando closed in."New target," Estere stated serenely. She had a fork at the ready and was staring at Orlando's fiancée. It gave me the opening I needed.I took hold of Casper's left arm. Anima took Casper's right. This time she had misjudged the situation and I wasn't settling for a vocal educational moment. I pushed Casper aside, put both hands under Anima's arms and lifted her up."I told you this wasn't a game you wanted to play," I cautioned her right before I slammed her length-wise on the table.Anima's head cracked-down hard and the breath was driven from her body."Mr. Nyilas!" Mr. Sulkanen shouted. "What do you think you are doing to Anima?""I'm not being an enabling bastard, Sir," I growled back. "Come on, Casper," I began leading her back to my seat."Why don't we see what security has to say about that," Jormo shot back angrily."Father, something has happened to the young lady; Casper; and neither Anima, nor Brennan, were adequately helping her," Hana stood up. "The last time Cáel tried, Mr. Keyes got in his way. This time, Anima discovered she wasn't the same level of deterrent.""He slammed Anima into the table, Hana," the old wolf snarled. There was nothing wrong with this guy's macho. Anima shot me a treasured, smug glance as she rolled off the table. The spiraling tension was a super-cell caused by the Hana-Brennan poison and Jormo's displeasure with me. Hana decided to not abandon me, which allowed Brennan to go after her like a starving piranha."Hold on," Misty tried to calm the pseudo-sibling shouting match. She strode majestically over to me, Casper, and Libra to take a look at our charge. Within a meter there was no doubt what Casper had been put through. The smell of an orgy's aftermath, the tattered look, the listless smile belying her tears and her inability to focus, clearly chilled Misty.We were thrust back into Sulkanen family politics. The purely human reaction was for Misty to lambast Anima and Brennan then call the cops. Except, Misty was wife number three, Hana was step-daughter from marriage number two; not even blood-relations with Jormo, and Brennan was a blood-heir for what little time he had left on Earth."Come with me," Misty curled an arm around Casper's waist."We are coming with you," Brooke announced."That won't be necessary," Misty smiled wanly."That wasn't a request," Brooke snapped angrily. "After this, I don't trust any of 'you' people."That went over as well as a father realizing his son looked like the butler. Jormo's demeanor turned thunderous; he was being disrespected in his own home, Brennan looked happily vindictive and the rest didn't matter at the moment."Young lady;” the old wolf growled."Shut up!" Brooke screamed. "The fact that neither you, nor any of your people, are calling 9 1 1 speaks volumes about the lack of character and untrustworthiness of your clan, Mr. Sulkanen."Brooke had just discovered her noblesse oblige. All that crap I'd been talking about the upper crust of society, the top 1% etc.; here was finally the 'face slap' that was married to the 'backhand' so many of us lower class schmucks experienced. Sulkanen was nouveau riche; a self-made man if you considered coming to America with three million in family assets to be a low enough starting point.Brooke wasn't going to attack his credit rating, or bad-mouth him to his business associates. No, there were a ton of socially critical charities and committees that were about to be told by an impeccable source (Brooke) that Dad Sulkanen harbored his rapist son from criminal prosecution. No, this wasn't some 'nobody' being defended either. Casper wasn't known, but she was notable."You can certainly leave," the Old Man rumbled. "The young lady stays. I'm calling Security and my concierge physician.""Go," I glanced to Estere and off she sprinted. A moment too slow, Brennan and Orlando clued into the threat. Orlando took after Estere."She's got a gun!" Brennan squealed. Jormo was busy dispensing orders over his phone as the situation spiraled. But then there was Hana."Mr. Nyilas, please exert some control over this situation," Hana urged."I'll try. Brooke, why don't you, Libra and Mrs. Sulkanen take Casper to a more comfortable setting," I suggested."What about your Azerbaijani friend?" Hana pressed."Oh," I chuckled. "Me giving Estere advice about conflict resolution is like me giving you advice on," I had to wrack my mind about something the Sulkanens were invested in, "natural gas exploration. She'll be fine.""This way," Misty directed. I was so much more enamored and impressed with my two princesses than I had been during our initial meeting. They both shot me quick looks that said the same thing. They knew I was sending them out of harm's way, not exiling them from the decision-making process.Only three of the remaining people weren't scared; myself (I'm an idiot), Anima (sick fuck) and Jormo Sulkanen, who seemed to know the difference between fear you could do something about, and the fear you ignored. We heard bellows from upstairs as Orlando finally discovered that he didn't know what room my group was staying in and that Estere had evaded him.The hopeful-to-be Mrs. Keyes stood up and looked in the direction her fiancé had disappeared into."Don't worry," I said. "The moment Hana expressed the bonds of hospitality to Ms. Abed, you were protected from premeditated mischief." I wasn't 100% sure of that. Keeping the woman from racing after Estere was crucial.The two security types showed up first. They must have had some part of the house dedicated to their use, because I had no idea they were about, yet here they were. They wore moderately expensive, off-the-rack suits, seemed to be in decent physical condition and had pistols and stun guns. One word from Jormo and the guns came out. They had the polished look of pretend-professionals.Had I not worked at Havenstone and seen its malicious underbelly, I would have been impressed. As it was, how could things go more wrong? They split up; one going after Orlando and Estere and the other closing cautiously with me. He looked cool, but his gun was held too high and he blithely came within hand-to-hand combat range.Oh please, everyone I cared about had left the room. If this guy and I wrestled for his piece, I could have cared less who got shot while it was his damn job to see that no one besides me got a scratch. I was sure his corporate employer cautioned him about such mistakes a lot; because he still had the safety engaged on his firearm. I'm an idiot; I'm an idiot; I'm an idiot."Your bitch is going to get shot now, Cocksucker," Brennan sneered. The security guy was reaching for my arm to pull me away from the table. He hadn't bother to ask me, instead being engrossed in his ear piece chatter. I snatched his gun from his grasp, disengaged the safety and pointed it at the guy."Put the stun gun on the table then back up nice and slow," I eye-balled the shocked man.I was pretty sure that was the moment Brennan wet himself. No one said a thing. The guard did as I requested, then backed away. At three meters, I dropped out the magazine then put it on the table. Next, I removed the chambered round from the pistol and put them both on the table."Mr. Sulkanen, you don't know me so I'm cutting you some slack right now," I sighed."Dad, his father was murdered Monday night in a gunfight," Hana interrupted. "Pointing a gun at him probably wasn't the best course of action.""So it appears," Jormo glared at me."G; get your gun back, you idiot," Brennan squawked at the guard.I slid the stun gun to Hana then reloaded the pistol before handing it back to the guy, grip first."Keep your distance to two meters, or more, unless you have a partner ; and whoever taught you to keep the safety engaged is a moron. Guns aren't toys, so don't treat it like one," I told him. The guy took his gun back."You served?" he muttered to me. Me? In the military; I guess I now qualified."Nah, I work with a bunch of girls at the Customer Complaint desk at a major telemarketing firm. After a few weeks on the job, you learn to get squirrely when you see people coming into the office with trench coats in this early summer heat," I said. So much implied with no real information."Oh God," Hana snorted in amusement. "You really do that job thing all the time," she giggled, "don't you?""At Havenstone, my sadistic task-mistresses often require me to think on my feet, so I've learned to share the love at work and abroad," I nodded."What?" Jormo scowled."Cáel Nyilas is on the Board of Directors at Havenstone, as well as an intern for their Executive Services division," Hana stated. "He is learning about the corporation from the bottom up.""Bullshit," Brennan snapped."Can you prove this, Mr. Nyilas?" Jormo challenged me."Normally your recognition would mean nadda to me, but Hana has gone out of her way to be nice to my friends," I agreed. "Who do you want me to call that you will believe?""I don't actually know anyone at Havenstone Commercial," he admitted."Wait!" I had a brainstorm. "Call Javiera Castello. She'll verify who I am and she's pretty much as 'an unimpeachable source' as I'm likely to get.""Who is she?" Hana pulled out her phone."She's an United States Attorney for the District Court of the Northern District of Illinois," I babbled."Are you sure we can reach her on the weekend?" Hana was already networking. She wasn't a lawyer; she was a power player, if a small one."Tell her you think Cáel Nyilas is involved with some crime, and she'll be in touch ASAP," I assured her.The call went in to her team of corporate lawyers and the countdown began. Brennan decided it was time to migrate away from the danger, so he and his buddies decided to take the yacht out after changing; by way of using its crew to escape. Anima elected to remain behind. She kept expecting a reaction from me. She wasn't getting one.No anger, sullenness, contempt, or pity. I'd save my anger for those a bit farther from the grave. I wasn't sullen because her victory wasn't a victory. It was a loss for both of us. I had requested that she exert some self-control in my presence and she hadn't; end of discussion. I certainly didn't pity her. Anima was evil, not merely a creature ruled by compulsions.She had thought I was bluffing. I wasn't. Anima thought she was in an emotional endurance match and if she waited long enough, my façade would crack and she'd get her first taste of my pain. Twenty-four minutes. That was the time it took Javiera to call back."Yes, Ms. Castello," Hana answered, "I have Mr. Nyilas here with me right now.""What's he done wrong; that's difficult to explain," Hana began. I heard the laughter coming from the other end. "You sound like this happens to him a good deal." Talking. "That doesn't sound promising." Talking. "I'm not a criminal legal talent, but I'll give it a shot. Theft, theft of a firearm, assault, obtuse death threats and possible possession of a stolen object." Talking.Hana gave me her phone. At the same moment, Estere dropped down in front of one of those beautiful French doors with their southern exposure and sauntered back into the dining room. Her hastily applied clothing additions suggested she was better armed. The guard gave a startled jolt as Estere drew even with him."Don't worry about him," I told Estere while covering the phone with my hand. "I chambered in the first round backwards." Estere smirked. The guy tested his piece and, sure enough, a normally chambered round popped out; I had lied. The poor bastard gave me a nasty stare. Estere's look to me was pricelessly appreciative.Ninja were all about stealth, the Black Hand was all about making use of whatever weapon was handy; and the Hashashin were all about misdirection and deception. Estere was a Mistress of M and D giving a young trainee a congratulatory nod. Would the guard search Estere for weapons? Not anymore. Now he was worried his pistol would fall apart and Hana had never returned his stun gun.His confidence had been shattered before combat had actually begun."Hello, USA Castello," I spoke into the phone."How are you going to get out of this mess this time?" she began."Can't I simply be innocent?" I pleaded."No," Javiera asserted with authority. "Now tell me what is going on.""For the sake of the interested parties swarming about; some with guns; I'll use pseudonyms. 'A' invited 'B' to his domicile for the weekend. 'B' invited me and 'C' to come along. 'A' had a friend, 'D' plus a cast of assorted losers.'A' and 'D' also had 'E' here for the weekend. She trusted them so ended up drugged and sexually assaulted; a great deal. Video was made," Estere tapped my left upper arm and exhibited her phone suggesting to me she'd gained access to the video the group had taken of Casper. "'F' showed up and decided to help myself, 'B' and 'C' get 'E', only to be outmuscled by 'G'.'H' shows up, takes charge, and decides that myself, 'B', 'C' and 'I' (new friend) should leave while he sits on 'E' and waits for the bought-and-paid for doctor to show up. Goodbye any evidence, trot out the legion of lawyers, crucify the victim and justice dies," I related."What do you want me to do?" Javiera sighed. She believed me.She also believed that I was going to seek revenge for the young lady and while she had to publically chastise me and privately urge me to stop, she knew what motivated me."The caller wanted some confirmation that I'm a Big Wheel at Havenstone along with being an intern," I stated. "Personally I could care less, but 'E's fate is in jeopardy."I handed the phone to the guard after motioning toward Jormo. A few seconds later, he had his own little chat with Javiera. I had a feeling it was rather heated. Was I who Hana claimed I was? Yes. Was I a criminal? No comment on ongoing investigations."Is he dangerous?"I imagine she said 'What do you consider dangerous?' because Jormo wasn't pleased. After a pause, the conversation from Javiera's side picked back up."What do you mean, 'have I crossed him?' You are a part of the Federal law enforcement process. You are paid to handle those things. Now answer me," Jormo simmered.I imagine it boiled down to 'yes, I was a dangerous human being' and 'no, I wasn't a homicidal maniac' which didn't help him much. That concluded Javiera's participation in events."Do you think you can inconvenience me, young man?" he shot his steely gaze my way."Mr. Sulkanen, there are precisely two things keeping me away from you; basic civility," I enlightened him, "and Hana.""I have discovered in a few short months that there is nothing as precious a resource as nice people. The world is overwhelmed with assholes with a highly overestimated sense of their worth in the greater scheme of things. I do not hate you, or like you. You do not register on my interpersonal radar," I said."You think you've learned some harsh life lessons, Mr. Nyilas? You don't know anything," Jormo met me anger for anger. Hana, in her short time, had gained a far better picture of me."Cáel, he is my father," Hana called to me. "You know about paternal respect, don't you?" That was a good shot on her part; painful, but not crippling."You are right, Hana. I am in your father's house and I owe him both that respect and the respect for how he treasures your person," I responded. The tension began to bleed away. Jormo wasn't an ass-hole, just driven by an iron determination to get his way. It had made him stinking rich and, I was beginning to think, outwardly ruthless.Why weren't Brooke, Libra, Estere and I being flung out of his home after our collision? Hana. That man had the same honest and trusted affection for the step-daughter that wasn't even his offspring as my father held for me. You don't mistake it once you've witnessed it. He knew this wasn't her vagina talking. He held Hana in higher regard.Hana saw something in me that made her stand up to both him and Brennan. I doubted that happened often. Hana made the call and her step-father honored it; end of the debate for now. That meant Hana, Estere and I went to find Casper and the others. Libra was helping the focus of such anguish shower off. It had been accepted there would be no police rape inquiry.Another advance, if you could call it that, had occurred in my relationship with Brooke and Libra. Their quick glances said it all- 'Get the bastards' and they expected it to get done. Like Odette and the now-deceased Latin Kings, those two didn't truly understand what that meant. In this case, most likely messy, painful deaths for those who would learn too late that a little law is a good thing; it keeps the really nasty things, like the truly lawless, at bay.There was no mention of events passing beyond my control. Those two had no idea where their wealth came from, what homes they owned outright, versus still under mortgage, or rented, and what their actual tax rate was; as opposed to the mythical 'tax bracket' the masses dreamed the rich were in.Casper came right at me, even slipping out of the towel Misty, and the newly arrived maid, tried to get around her. Why? I had gained an unanticipated affliction. Girls in the worst possible mindsets wanted to trust me. Oneida, Cameron, Wiesława and now Casper homed in on me being a gentle, honest and trustworthy soul; but damn it! I wasn't!I wrapped my arms tightly around Casper, making her feel snug, safe and warm. I lied to her. I told her things were going to be okay. We'd work things out and she'd get better in no time. No one was going to get to her while her 'real' friends were around and we promised to stick around as long as it took. This was supposed to be my vacation. I need to stop making plans for the future and avoid the disappointment from having my hopes trampled by cruel reality.(Saturday Night)The Hamptons gathering had transformed from a post-college exploration to a mature gathering. We had an adult-level task laid out before us; creating an emotional buffer zone for Casper. I gave Estere an 'out'. There would be no more 'fun time' this weekend. She elected to stay anyway.When we moved out to a cliff-side patio for dinner, Brennan and company showed up, sans Orlando and his lady. Casper tensed up, Hana and I rallied and put up a warding wall, so the cast of idiots settled for taunting Casper as she shivered behind us. Because, you know, all of this was one big joke;I had enough peripheral awareness to not get blind-sided by Casper. Hana didn't and went tumbling into Anima. Casper launched herself at Brennan. He had some under-developed martial talent while Casper was clearly driven by frantic energy alone. Brennan received a few scratches then flipped Casper over his shoulder and down hard on the patio's deck.A punch to her face was coming Casper's way when I pushed Brennan several steps back. The one scumbag who attempted to get behind me took an ice cube to the eye, courtesy of Estere. His yelp allowed me to yank Casper up and circle my arms around her."The whore scratched me," Brennan exhibited his scarred forearm. "I guess she goes to jail now."I didn't do anything and I think three of the ladies were thinking I should. Brennan snorted. Now for a lesson in community."Okay," I shrugged. "Casper can go do jail." By the depth of her whimper, that wasn't what Casper wanted at all. I looked to Libra and Brooke. Giving someone the unwarranted label of 'snob' was wrong and those two ladies were going to exhibit that.Libra hurled her drink from the patio table at Brennan. She missed but that was okay. Brooke missed as well."I guess we are going to jail with Casper," Brooke declared as they moved up. Casper wiggled around in my grasp so she could take in the scene. "We'll stick with you, Casper.""Bitches!" Brennan snapped. "What the fuck;""These people can't help you, Casper," Anima stepped up. "You are in trouble now and they don't know trouble.""You are horrible," Brooke seethed in response."Why all the hostility?" Anima gave a disarming smile. Libra had definitely tapped into her 'Inner Cáel'. That was only fair, since her 'Outer Cáel' had been tapping her pretty vigorously."Because we are better than you and you consistently fail to acknowledge that, you soulless tramp," Libra volleyed."Cáel, I apologize so much for bringing you here this weekend," Brooke touched me."I'm not," I squeezed Casper. Crap, I could use a break. It was so wrong that I suddenly wished for Monday and to be back to the work week. It was even screwier that I thought that would give me any sort of relief; it wouldn't."Touching, but foolish," Anima sighed with amusement. She pulled out her phone from her back pocket. She made a call then showed the device to Casper. "I'm sure your boyfriend will be very impressed with last night's antics. Of course, he may expect a repeat performance." Casper trembled. I rubbed her back as she sobbed into my shoulder and bicep."I'm not very impressed with your virtue," Anima sounded disappointed in me."You and your ilk deserve only two words; 'Good bye'," Estere sounded serene. "As a general instruction, anyone on this deck that I do not like and that hasn't left by the exits in the next three minutes will be flying over the railing.""This is my fucking house!" Brennan shouted."Actually, it is Dad's house, Brennan," Hana smiled."He's not your father, shit-for-brains," he snapped."Brennan, for every time you have forced your way into my life through bratty behavior; I consider this moment long overdue," Hana snorted."I'm not leaving," he took a defiant stance."Good," Hana laughed. "In; ""Two minutes 25 seconds," Estere supplied the data."I'm taking every other lady and leaving, locking the doors behind me," Hana kept grinning."Before I leave, I will ask Cáel to physically obstruct the stairs leading down the bluff," she added. "Then it will be you and Ms. Abed. She is going to kick all of your asses, I'm not letting you

Living the nightmare; hungering for a normal life. In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. “If your heart starts the fight, you can lose without regret.”  (Thursday Night) It was well past the descent of Night's veil when the Havenstone jet landed outside of New York City. Naomi and team gathered us up and led us to the main building downtown. An unlooked for conflict developed. Naomi's team was there to present me to Hayden. Rachel's team was still focused on securing my wellbeing and they didn't like the attitude Naomi's squad was giving off. With Buffy (Helena was in a different car), there was no concealing Rachel's hostility toward the latest group of SD ladies. The new group was treating me like a 'package', not a Head of House, and that infuriated my First too. All of that ill-will simmered as we made our way to Havenstone. The situation was compounded by the elevator ride. Naomi, her team, Buffy, Rachel and I went into the first elevator. By the time we made it to the top few floors, it was clear that the rest were not immediately following along. The situation ratcheted up to nasty when Naomi demanded Buffy's firearm. Buffy looked ready to use it. "Buffy; gun," I held out my hand, palm up. Buffy reluctantly handed it over. I walked over to the nearest trash can, dropped out the clip, chambered out the first round then dumped the entirety into the trash receptacle. "If they touched it, the weapon would be fouled and not fit for a true Amazon," I explained to Buffy. "Best to save your noble tool the indignity and dispense with it instead." Buffy snorted with amusement, Naomi's crew pretended not to care while Rachel was deeply disturbed. It took a perfunctory gesture to stop Buffy outside Hayden's office. In I went to face Hayden, Katrina, Saint Marie and Troika of House Šauška alone. Šauška was the 'sister goddess' of Ishara; together they formed Ishtar in later incarnations. I didn't believe Troika was here for any sister solidarity this time around. "Why did you do this? Start a war; is this your hatred of Amazon culture shining through, trying to get us all killed in some global struggle against the other Secret Societies?" Hayden opened up with in an even tone. "No," I kept it succinct. They waited for more of an explanation. "Do you have anything you can say to defend your actions?" Troika glared. "I don't need to defend my actions," I regarded her as if she was of alien origin. "The actions speak for themselves." "Why don't you explain it to us, Ishara?" Saint Marie rumbled. Insulted yet again. As an equal, I warranted the use of my first name. "Do I have your permission to fully and completely lay out my reasoning without everyone closing in like a pack of hyenas on a leopard?" I looked to Hayden; not happy. She gave a curt nod. It wasn't like running away would get me far. "I will speak slowly because all of you appear to have become incredibly stupid," I started. "My parent and carrier of my Amazon ancestor's genetic heritage was murdered. The leader of the Amazon Security Detail identified herself, Then they were fired upon. Somehow you do not see those actions as Casus Belli. [cause for war] There are three possible reasons for your blindness: you are all cowards who bully behind closed doors, but fold up like gutless wonders when a true challenge presents itself. Or, the male penis renders you incapable of intelligent thought and induces irrational and unsustainable hostile deductions in your though processes. Or, you want me and the line of Ishara dead and are willing to accept any accident of fate that will render us so," I laid things out for them. "Or, you were in pain over your father's loss and used Havenstone as a tool to lash out at your perceived foes without concern for what price the other houses would have to pay for your personal vendetta," Hayden suggested. "Your gender bias is appalling, High Priestess  Saint James," I shook my head. "Have I been such an out of control, emotional male that yours is the logical assumption for how events unfolded?" I smirked. "Except for the meeting where I learned your secret; only Katrina caught that. I've risked death three times for Amazons; yet I hate all of you enough to kill those people and myself. Besides,  Saint James, your opinion has been rendered irrelevant." "You will call me Hayden," Hayden simmered. "I will when you and your lackeys get around to calling me Cáel," I countered. "I don't like being insulted any more than you do. I could keep up this childishness forever, but, as I was pointing out, we don't have forever. War is coming. Between my father's murder and my threats to the Condotteiri and Seven Pillars' emissaries, I've guaranteed that. Apologizing won't do any good. They won't believe you. Offering me up won't do any good. They think you hold male life to be worthless; the truth of which I am personally witnessing here and now. They are coming for you no matter what you wish. The best chance for an alliance rests with me. I can establish truly good will with the Nine Clans, Illuminati and the Earth  and  Sky. Without me, they don't trust you enough to do any good. I'm sure only Katrina believes this; I did all that alliance-building for Havenstone. I am House Ishara and the fate of the Amazons is my fate. Yet here I am, being insulted, being treated like a traitor; an infantile traitor at that, and being informed you will not honor your oaths and obligations to me," I shook my head. "Are there any other issues to discuss, or can I go home now? I'm beat." "You will be housed downstairs for your own safety," Hayden informed me. "Unless you arrest me, I'm going home," I shrugged. "Not only do I not want your protection, I have ceased to trust you. You do not treat me like a sister. Instead you accuse me of atrocities against MY people and layer on the petty insults. Goodnight." I made to leave so Saint Marie interposed herself. "That wasn't a request, Ishara," Hayden murmured with menace. "Beat me up," I chuckled, "and you will be more screwed than you know." The Golden Mare and I locked gazes. I tried to move around her so she put a hand on my chest. "Welcome to the consequences of being known liars and bigots, ladies." "I am tiring of your insolence," Saint Marie growled. "Runners'," Katrina sighed with melancholy amusement. "What about them?" Troika mocked. "The majority of the 'Runners' aren't going to see this as the Council punishing Cáel for starting the upcoming conflict," Katrina chided her cohorts. "They are going to see the Full-blooded shutting down the Only House letting them in. Going to war? They are willing to fight and die for our cause. They assume we are too," Katrina regaled her unwilling audience. "Pleased with yourself, Ish; Cáel," Hayden's eyes narrowed. "He has almost nothing to do with it, Sisters," Katrina chortled. "We were the ones who promised to let the 'Runners' join the houses then reneged on that promise. The worst you can say about Cáel was that only after we picked out, loaded and handed him the gun, did he use it for what it was intended for." "We are not punishing him for this 'Runner' insult," Troika spat. She meant my 'hasty' inductions. "Then why are we punishing him; and thank you for making Cáel's point for him; 'Runner' insult indeed. Since your disgraceful attitude is overwhelmingly common, the 'Runners' are not going to believe your excuse for dealing with Cáel." "Katrina," Hayden cautioned. "Hayden, as your 'First Bearer of the Sun Spear through the Halls of Night and Death', I am required to give you this news," Katrina bowed her head in reverence. "I tell you Cáel's actions have been a lightning rod for the 'Runners'. He gives them hope where there was none. Putting Cáel down will have repercussions you do not understand. They will then 'Know' for a certainty we look down on them and treat them little better than slaves; which is the truth," Katrina responded to the others. "Not only are we going to war, we are successfully convincing half our population that they Cannot trust the Council to spend their lives wisely." "How dare you?" Saint Marie seethed at me. "Are you seriously blaming me for keeping the oaths the rest of you made in my name; while Ishara was dead to the Council?" I laughed. "The 'Runners' are your idea, Saint Marie, not mine. You promised to bring them into the Houses ; and didn't. You lied and I chose to not perpetuate that lie, thus honoring my ancestors, my founder and my Goddess." "Do I need to remind you who Ishara is? The Goddess of Oaths; particularly military oaths," I added. "In case you missed it, I am implying that you have failed your ancestors;” and I went flying. Damn, Saint Marie was fast. I rolled as best as I could, ending bumping into Hayden's desk. No one said a word which I found tragically consistent. My follow-up pain wasn't 'Mare' induced. Spiritual flames consumed me internal organs, causing me to cry out in torment and vomit copious amounts of something. I was cradled inside a horror film as first my esophagus, then stomach and finally my intestines seemed to flush forth from my lips. The stench was beyond horrid; putrid and corrupt combined with the atrocious odor of bloated flesh left to rot in the Sun for weeks. Considering the minimal amount I had eaten on the flight home, I was even more baffled by what felt like 100 liter quantity of discharge. When the ordeal eventually ended, I half-rose then flopped backwards into darkness. I hurt. I hurt in the same way you have 'pins and needles', except mine were industrial capacity and giving it 110%. My head was resting at a slight incline and someone was flipping a lock of my bangs on and off my forehead. I opened my eyes into infinity; seriously worse agony consumed my brain pan. "That is too much for you to know, Cáel," she murmured. Those eyes had been feminine, just not in a human way and definitely filled with more joy and suffering than could be granted by a thousand lifetimes. The pain faded, so I tried the whole eye thing again. At the top of the lap that cradled my head was a really nice pair of boobs clothed in thin wool; lush, mature, yet firm like a young virgin's. "Thank you," she lilted. Mind-reading? "Do I want to know what has happened to me?" I groaned. I reached for a boob because if it was a toxin-induced delusion, what was the worst that can happen? "Careful, I haven't been with a male in 1800 years, my Preciously Odd Amazon," she laughed. "I like challenges," I bantered with my mental conjuration. Definitely mind-reading. "I am not the creation of your fevered dreams, my Cáel," she flicked my nose. "I have pushed you near death to place a curse on the Host. As a side benefit, I am able to have metaphysical contact with you." "To date you, I have to have a near-death experience? I don't know if I should admire 1800 years of male common sense, or that last guy who risked everything for one night with you," I shrugged. "So much compassion; and so little fear," she petted my scalp. "Since you clearly aren't getting into the name game and I am more than happy to doubt everything I've experienced in the past five minutes," I smiled at her, "what am I supposed to do?" "You know," she smiled back. "No, I don't," I insisted. "Something extra-concise that doesn't come from a fortune cookie." "I've always wanted to eat a fortune cookie," she looked away. "I'll start walking around with one in my pocket so next time you nearly kill me, you can indulge," I offered. "Save my people, Cáel," she placed her hand over my eyes. "Save their spirits." "A bit of help would be nice," I pressed forward blindly. "I've given you help," she whispered on my lips. Since I didn't consider that to be helpful, I opted to give a gentle twist to her nipple. Either something was really going on inside my head, acting as a conduit between me and something else, or I was experiencing a psychotic break with reality. If it was the former, I was a Class-A idiot. If it was the latter, it was me being me, rolling the dice with the pretty girl. "I wanted you to be brave," she laughed melodically, the echo of every woman I'd ever given a reason to sing out with joy, "yet now I find myself wishing you would expend a tiny bit more caution on my behalf." Sensing my dissatisfaction, she added "I cannot give you 'the' truth, so I will give you 'a' truth. Nothing is set in the future while much is foreseen." "As long as you know I've disappointed every women I've ever been with," I reminded her, my eyes still shielded and her lips tantalizingly close to mine. "Oh, you like to think you are selfish, Cáel Nyilas of Vranus and Ishara, but you justifiably take pride in the sensuality you bring to so many women's lives," she pointed out. "Many lovers are far more truthful yet far less giving," she said. "Pain heals while an education is forever," I countered. Another joyous note. "It is time for you to wake up, my Cáel," she sighed. "Go now." Wakefulness required a return to the putrid qualities of my current surroundings. I forced myself to my knees. No one did anything; no reaction, or assistance, so it fell to me to save myself. "What; what was that?" Troika nearly retched at the stench. Katrina stood, visibly pale and shaken. "Hayden?" Katrina requested of her leader. "Cáel, what have you done?" Hayden snapped. She also stood up so she could look down at me from her desk. I mumbled something. Even I wasn't sure what I was trying to say. The last touch of a lady far chillier than the one in Chicago caressed me and I knew the gist of what had happened. Why was I the one suffering at the hands of my Goddess? I was the easiest to get at because I was already devoted to her, her chosen children and I was Patron and Head of the house dedicated to her honor. The forecasted ass-kicking wasn't aimed at me, though. I was the necromantic shotgun barrel into this reality. Too many bitches had spat on me, her hand-picked patsy and punching bag, and her temper was beyond sending some vague signs and portents to the Host. I didn't know the particulars of this curse, yet I didn't doubt for a second it was both fiendishly evil and well-deserved. My jacket, shirt and tie were goners. The lower part of my tie which had been thoroughly drenched in my vomit was already decaying into filth, soon passing into nothingness. I tried speaking again. "Having exhibited no faith in me, you have committed apostasy to Ishara," issued the words from my acid-scared throat. "You are condemned to live with that choice. Good night." I fumbled and stumbled to Hayden's door, weakly opened one of the two double doors and left. The confrontation I had departed outside remained in force; Naomi and detail versus Rachel and Buffy. Helena, and a former 'Runner' named Madori who worked at Havenstone HQ with us, had not been sent up. "I am going home," I rasped. With no orders to keep me there, Naomi let me pass. Rachel and Buffy closed in. "Boss, you smell like;” Buffy searched for words. "A red tide," Rachel said. "All those dead fish floating on the water for days and days; it is that level of horrible smell." "Rachel," I stated as we got on the elevator, "thank you for the loyalty, intelligence and understanding you have given me in this trying time." "I am a member of the Host, Ishara. I would do no less for Hayden herself; but you are welcome," she sighed. "How about we postpone our date night until I've cleared up a few things with the Council and Ishara?" I suggested. Rachel nodded. I briefly talked to Helena over the phone, went with Buffy to the basement where she checked out a car then sat back as she drove me home. I must have looked like a disaster because Buffy didn't give me an ounce of grief. Home was home now. There was a house with my name on it now, but it wasn't my hearth; this mid-town, 'just above the poverty line' apartment was definitely home now. I would suspect that business travel was like a clothes dryer; you mystically pulled out less clothes than you put in. I was coming back with twice the amount of luggage I had departed with Odette would be home in an hour, so it was me and Timothy for a bit. "Hey Bro," Timothy greeted me. He set down one of those fanciful Asian vegetable mish-mashes that he liked from time to time, stood up and gave me a hug. "How bad was it?" "Let's just say I finished it up this evening by vomiting all over the Big Boss's rug, and that was the highlight of the trip," I mumbled. "That would explain your bare-chested look," Timothy snorted. I had been so out of it, I had spaced on the need to put on clothes like a normal human being. "Something to eat?" "Nah, my insides were spewed forth, so I'm foregoing food for a while," I mumbled. That reminded me. I went to the bathroom and gargled repeatedly with mouthwash. I could still smell the aromatic abomination, but at least I couldn't taste it anymore. "Do we want to go down the lists of women who have called you?" Timothy was trying to cheer me up. I wanted to be cheered up so I told him to go right ahead. Brooke and Libra; an immediate call back with the briefest of details; no weekend date for Brooke and I yet. Jason, the bar-back I had met chasing down Katy Lee, had called. I dialed his number and we had a short chat. He and his buddies were coming along well, I was invited back any time, and the Latin Kings had gotten the message because they hadn't been around since. I requested he and his friends keep their eyes open just in case and I'd be around for another pick-up game soon enough. Since most of those LK's were dead and the remainder scattered, I wasn't worried about Jason. Nikita; I called and she 'agreed' to come over. I was too fatigued to fight her off. Ulyssa called and I had to inform her that this weekend didn't look good for me; funeral and all. I initiated contact with Nicole. She was still wrapping up some of my business in Chicago and would be gone until Saturday morning. Timothy crashed for the evening, I was nibbling on some of his fodder and the doorbell rang. A check at the peephole revealed Nikita. She came in, hugged and I could sense something was definitely wrong. We were back to first date material. We hadn't been separated long enough; crap. I gave us space on the sofa. "That was incredibly fast," I groaned. "What tipped them off?" "What do you mean?" Nikita tried to scoot down the sofa to me. I held her off with one hand. "I am hardly one to uphold honesty in a relationship, but I normally consider it a selfish endeavor and not done for the benefit of a third, unrelated party," I sadly met her eyes. "Cáel, what do you?" Nikita stammered. "You are not a very good liar," I pointed out. "You are wearing a wire of some kind?" "Have you done something wrong?" Nikita evaded. "My loss," I moped. "All I wanted was the semblance of a normal life and now that's gone down the tubes." "Nikita, what do you want to drink?" I restarted the whole fiasco. Drinks were served and we kept to our separate ends of the sofa talking about mindless shit until Odette showed up. Then I could politely show Nikita the door and be with someone who did care about me. We made slow, passionate love. I gave her orgasms and giggles with the added benefit I felt more human when we finally fell asleep. (Friday) The morning started out with the same routine. I pulled up various routes for my bike ride into work, chose none of them and off I went in the pre-dawn dark blue/grey sky. I came within 20 seconds of my best time, so I was feeling pretty positive about what lay ahead. Security was a full 180 from their normally sour selves. "Good morning, Cáel Ishara," the security team (not Security Detail) leader greeted me. That was part 'thanks for letting my sister 'Runners' into a house' and 'maybe pick me next time.' "Good morning, Wilma Draper," I nodded back. I went to the counter and leaned in. I needed to fortify my supportive base and I knew how to do it. "You do realize I don't choose who joins House Ishara, don't you?" I addressed her softly yet loud enough for the two closest security women to hear. "You do not?" the woman appeared perplexed. "No," I shook my head in the negative. At that moment she wondered if this was a trick of the Council. Good girl. "The senior Amazons of House Ishara chose the next candidates. I make the ritual appeal to Ishara, of course. Selection remains in the hands of former 'Runners' who nominate the 'Runners' who have proven themselves. I was inspired to initiate Buffy and Helena because I had enough faith in them to believe they knew Havenstone and what House Ishara needed. The Amazons in the second ritual were all Buffy and Helena's choices. I think those two and the latest group Ishara has approved of, will make the perfect judges for picking future 'Runners' of accomplishment and worth; not only for House Ishara, but for the new Amazons who have risked everything for our People," I piled on the propaganda. She nodded. The two closest security guards nodded as well. Off I went to the gun range. With less than a minute worth of words, I had reinforced my perfection. I wasn't a male. I was a male with a passel of hardcore, praiseworthy Amazons working around me, insulating me from committing any errors and making all the important decisions while I behaved like a bobble-headed doll. The range was back to 'normal' except I could smell the chemicals this time out. Whatever concrete and surface coating substances they had used to repair my grenade-inspired damage left my nose with a terrible itch. I had a gun selection today. I had no instructor yet was hopeful. I packed up my 40 caliber, my back-up 3 80, the combat shotgun and my Personal Defense weapon then headed out. I patiently waited behind one of the stations, soaking up the view of medium gray yoga pants worn by a woman who presented a meticulously crafted, awesome bubble-butt to the world. After she finished off one magazine, the Amazons looked over her shoulder at me. Horn-dog time. The woman smiled as she motioned me forward. We put my weapons on the stand and prepared for school. "I am Wiesława of House Živa," she smirked playfully. By the Almighty, she had a thick Polish accent, rich lips, russet hair and 'come hither' eyes. I was prepping for some early 'nookie' time. "Hello, I am Ash Ketchum and I have an unhealthy relationship with free-roaming, anthropomorphic creatures," I replied as we clasped forearms Amazon-style. As Wiesława was trying to puzzle that out, an Amazon from an adjoining booth came over and punched me in the arm. I couldn't even recall this one's name though I knew that face and physique. "Stop that, Cáel," the woman chastised me. "She's new here." "I thought he was bringing me more weapons to use. Was this male being insolent?" Wiesława tried to put things in their proper place. "Should he be disciplined?" At least she wasn't taking me being beaten as her Goddess-given right. "No, Wiesława. This is Cáel Ishara, Head of House Ishara, he brought those weapons for His use and most likely came to your station looking for instruction," the unnamed Amazon stated. "Does this mean we are passed that whole 'grenade launcher' thing?" I inquired of the women. "We are not sure. For now we have decided to not pre-judge you since you remain consistently combative no matter what. Constanza is recovering," she tacked on. "Good," I grinned. "How soon can she return to duty? I imagine she makes a lousy patient." Pause. The 'Constanza' bit had been a test. I had a feeling that my emotional tendency to spare lives and show mercy was getting around. It wasn't the Amazon way, though it did mean Constanza would remain alive for a while longer when it was generally accepted she should not. "She will have to retrain her vision. Her doctors are hopeful," the woman responded. "That is for the best. I do hope there are no ill intentions toward Pamela," I warned her. "Such a vengeance would be personal and I would feel no obligation to treat those criminals as I would my fellow Amazons; are we clear?" "It has been made expressly clear that this issue is at an end," she bowed slightly. "Let us commit this to the 'nothingness'," was my suggestion. The two Amazons twitched. That was a phrase straight out of their cultural playbook. Both nodded, the familiar Amazon left and I turned back to Wiesława. "Do you still want a go at training me?" I asked the Pole. "Yes; yes, I would like that," she gave me a bright, toothy white smile. "I find you interesting." Off I went again. Wiesława was diligent and definitely 'hands-on'. Twenty minutes into the training one of my familiar SD firing partners showed up. "Don't let him take his clothes off," Felicité teased me. Her Congolese French contrasted erotically with Wiesława's Polish. "His clothes come off?" Wiesława seemed puzzled. "How is that accomplished?" "A deeply scientific, psychological process," Felicité teased my latest friend/fish in the barrel. "Cáel, take off your clothes," she commanded me. I gave her a haughty, condescending glare. "Please." My biking shirt came off first then my biking slippers and finally the shorts. "Your turn," I regarded Wiesława. She shot a look to Felicité. Her sports bra was millimeters from exposing her goodies when my Congolese tormentor stepped in. "You don't have to take off your clothes for him," she intervened. "But I like seeing you ladies naked," I protested. Felicité patted my package. "We like seeing you naked too. Now put on your pants before a hot shell casing creates yet another incident," Felicité teased me again. A great chasm of misunderstanding had been bridged since Friday. The grenade-launcher was part of it, yet I think Rachel and Velma were far more constructive than I could have been. Velma had seen me in crisis mode. I hadn't panicked. I had seen to my partner (though she was an inconsequential female) and been cool throughout the process in Katrina's office as Velma and her four team members had overheard. Rachel, Charlotte, Mona and Tiger Lily had probably given a different story; less professional and more human. That must have worked in my favor. A stone-cold bad-ass would have been more worrisome; a challenge. No, I had been shaken, irrational, brave and grieving. I had fought an assassin of the Nine Clans and not lost (thus not an embarrassment to a culture I didn't really belong to; until that moment). I had insulted the Condotteiri and the Seven Pillars, who were universally hated. I had been nice to the Earth  and  Sky and Illuminati, who they didn't like much, but could be handy if a war did break out. I had been 'friendly' to the Egyptians and Nine Clans, who the Amazon rank and file did approve of. The SD had no doubts; they were looking at a war. Unlike their leadership, the Security Detail was anticipating this, even anxious for the test. Fighting is what they spent their whole lives training for. Thirty years had passed since the last major clash between Havenstone and the others. For the youngest, this was the ultimate chance to prove their training had been perfect. For the oldest members of the SD, this was the culmination of a lifetime's devotion. 'Take themselves to the cliffs'? Not now. Now came the chance to make every burn, bullet hole, stab wound and piece of shrapnel worth it. Their Host lavished care and resources on the Security Detail; their Warrior Elite; and they were about to reward that glorification with a fervor only female's with 3000 years of martial tradition could match. Like me? Allowable yet not required. Respect me? Constanza was their lesson on respect. Obedience? No. Rachel had most assuredly related my contact with the 'Runners' and Buffy, so they could hit me like they could no other Head of Household; as long as it was 'appropriate'. Since they were not forced to give me full equality, they could stomach my 'almost' equality. Think of it as being able to punch your manager at work in the arm whenever you thought they were doing something stupid. Imagine how much worker morale would benefit. By stepping up and taking a punch, or two, I bought myself and House Ishara much more respect than a snippy insistence on etiquette would have ever done. Bringing 'Runners' into a First House? The SD wasn't jumping for joy. Here, the SD's sense of superiority worked in Ishara's favor. What did it matter to them that a few 'Runners' had been exalted to Full-blooded status? SD was the best of the best. That they were the best of the 'best available until now' hadn't occurred to them yet. All that circled back to Felicité playing with me, no one taking exception to me making a play for Wiesława and the return of the firing range to an educational platform for me. As I had told Oneida, 'defeat starts in the mind'. Along with that came 'Victory starts with a plan', and 'seize the moment'. I was aiming for seizing victory in the flesh. I bent over to put my pants back on. Since Felicité was departing for jobs-unknown, I ran the pants, and my hand, along Wiesława's inner right thigh. By the look in her eyes when I was finished, she didn't mind in the slightest. At the end of my allotted time period, my marksmanship had improved and Wiesława was mine for the taking. What bothered me was that it felt too easy somehow. Weird huh; that 'easy' would bother me. "You don't hang around men much?" I questioned the Pole as the weapons were being put away. "No," she sighed. "The last male in my hold died eight years ago. That is one reason I was re-assigned here," she informed me. "What department are you with?" I asked as we waited on the elevator. "Security Detail," she answered. "Fantastic," I murmured. "Elsa is a great boss. The two of us get along great." "Really? That is good news," Wiesława sounded upbeat. "How close are you?" Hint, hint. "Like the Cobra and the Mongoose," I grinned. Into the elevator we went. "I'll let you figure out which is which." "You are the Cobra," she patted my thinly covered cock. Yay! No personal boundaries. Less I forget I was still on the list of approved prey animals the door opened on the first floor and Brielle, her buddy, and Oneida stepped onboard. I had no clue where Wiesława was supposed to go. I guessed she was along for the ride. "Good morning, Cáel," Brielle greeted me before licking my left nipple. Wiesława was confused; could she have been licking me, and getting licked by me, half an hour ago? "What are you doing?" Oneida squawked. "Yum; someone has been to the gun range this morning," Brielle smiled at me. "Oh, and; sorry about your paternal person," she hastily added. "They are called Fathers," I sighed. To defuse Oneida, I slipped a hand to the small over her back then wiggled three fingers between the top of her skirt and panties. It was 'dangerous' enough to give her pause before going after the other women. "It is good to see your new, exalted status hasn't gone to your head, Cáel Ishara," Brielle looked very naughty. "Sisters first, last and always," I responded. "I'm not going to take credit for my ancestors being kick ass." "They must have been very courageous women," Wiesława stated. I snorted. "Wiesława, my Ishara lineage goes down the male side of the family, so those lethal ancestors were all male," I chided her. "When the Dacian-Thracians moved into the region, they joined with those tribes fighting the Celts. Later, they joined with the Dacian kings and fought against the Romans. Germans, Avars, Bulgars and finally the Magyars came their way; my ancestors impressed them all enough to be accepted. I know this because my Father's name was Nyilas, which means Archer in the Magyar tongue. We were fighters under the Arpad dynasty the same way we had gone to war with our Amazon War leaders thousands of years earlier. I also know this because of my bloodline; if the female folk had been raped, the bloodline would have perished," I explained. "Where exactly was your family from?" Wiesława inquired. "My grandfather said we Nyilas' were from Székelys Lands in Northern Romania," I replied. "My great-grandfather grew up under the Romanian King, hated it and died fighting as a Hungarian soldier against the Soviets in World War II," I continued. "That is why my great-grandmother took her children and came to America. They had lost their homeland in her opinion. Dad said she was bitter until the day she died," I sighed over my forerunners intransience. "She even wanted to be buried at her home town of Szászrégen," I let them know. "That never happened." The elevator door opened, I waved good-bye to friends new and old then raced to Katrina's bathroom. Katrina was at her desk, working away. "Cáel," Katrina acknowledged my passage with a wave of her hand. "Hayden and I have been examining a list of possible; " "That boat has sailed, Katrina," I cut her off. "I'll take care of my business without Hayden's help, thank you very much. I know you tried to warn her. I should have known there was no use dealing with the Council in any way, shape, or form. There isn't." I paused. "Tell your allies that there will be many in House Ishara and Warrior-Fathers too." "Aren't you worried in the least?" Katrina requested. "We both know that some of these bitches want to face their end like the lead characters in a Wagnerian opera. All we can do is remind them they are traitors to their Race, not patriots to some modern day concoction of a cult of gender blood purity," I stated, "as we work to save our people." "Those 'Old Guard' broads have forgotten what an Amazon is supposed to be," I explained. "And a man is going to show us the way?" Katrina studied me with emotionless intent. "Yes," I muttered. "A man who prefers love over hate and counts his worth by the lives he saves, not the one's he takes." "Do you ever fear this 'softness' will weaken your masculinity?" Katrina mused. That hurt; not because of her words, which could be true for any man. It hurt because the bastion against such thinking had just died. "My only fear is that I won't live up to my father's example," I responded. "Not only as a man and a father in my time, but as a human being," I delved into the wounded portion of my soul. "He never went to college, served in the military, or even got into a fight until that last minute of his life. He covered for co-workers with family issues, never failed to answer a call out to work in inclement weather, and did all that normal boring shit few here even understand. He let me be weak and let me be strong. His greatest lesson was that no matter where my life led, I had to take responsibility for it. The strong ask for help. The weak ask for someone to do the task for them. Love is not a word. Love is the star you chart your life by. The worst weakness is letting fear stop you from pursuing what you want. That is what I have to measure up to," I finished. In the interim, several of the new hires showed up and were observing the spiel. "I would think he would be happy if you measured up to what you wanted out of life," Katrina said. "I aim to do both," I grinned. I went to the bathroom and quickly changed into my work attire. The meeting started on time with the additional of a gnat-bite; Dora was two minutes late. At the time, nothing seemed out of sorts to me. It was a day on the job with Rosette. Around 3:30 pm, Pamela stopped our knife training (her with her wand and me with my weighted, wooden blade). She went to the corner of the room, ran her finger along the central point and drew back a finger with dust on it. She raised the finger so I could clearly see it. "It's dust?" I shrugged. "Normally they do a much better job," Pamela noted and back to training we went. The nightmare became real with one phrase in common usage: 'I'll get to it when I can', one Runner told Desiree when Desiree gave her a task. One of the most fascinating things in my book about Havenstone was that it hummed along like a well-oiled, organic machine. Tasks were completed, back-ups were always on call, and promptness wasn't a virtue; I was the absolutely expected. "What did you say?" Desiree asked for confirmation. "I said I'll get right on it," the woman sighed. I caught the look in Desiree's eyes. Something was wrong, but she couldn't put a name to it. Oaths and obligations; the lubricant for patently lethal Amazon society. Those words tossed out without too much consideration were now fraying around the edges. This wasn't the Plague, boils, lesions, leprosy, rickets, or the Home Loan bubble bursting. Those you could fight. How did you counter the devaluation of someone's word? Ishara's curse was crawling toward a very bad end unless I did something, but what? Personal respect would remain. Hierarchy? Amazons would begin to question why they were prioritizing their lives around someone they didn't know, or knew and didn't like. We weren't at that final destination, yet it was coming, and best of all, every woman in the company had a weapon, or quick access to one. A phone call grabbed me before I went in for the 'end of day' meeting. It was Brooke. "Christopher Cáel-umbos," I murmured. "Economy Class Oriental tours. How may I help you?" Laughter; and more than Brooke's. "Libra and I were getting ready to head out to the Hamptons and wanted to give you one last chance to come along," Brooke pleaded. An impressive dicking indeed. Thousands of reasons not to go; safety, responsibility, risk for other; "Sure, I'd love to come along. Can you pick me up at Havenstone at 6:10 pm? We'll make a quick run to my place to pick up some stuff and then head out, unless that's too late?" I offered. "See you then, Cáel," Brooke purred. "See you," Libra called out as well. It was a loathsome indicator of how out of control my life was ;  that me, a working class kid, was going on a romp with two rich, high society girls to some mansion for a weekend of hedonistic fun; because that was more 'normal' than my week had been. I entered the meeting, took my teasing and made for the gym. This hour was devoted to a hardcore workout and nothing but. Rapid repetitions, quick shifts, rolling through the muscle groups. Even a few of the dedicated lifters gave me appreciative looks. I didn't have the time today. I hit the showers and made the doors before I hit a snag. Security held me up yet again. They seemed nervous, so I asked and got a bottled water and made some jokes. These ladies were going to be my allies, damn it, before I was done. Troika caught up with me a minute later. She extended a handful of round, brownish-yellow balls in a necklace. Each ball had a symbol inscribed on it. "We received this and a message this morning," she snapped. "We have decided to reject it." "It is horse-hoof," Pamela whispered in my ear. The gears went spinning. There was one person I knew who would send me keratin scrimshaw jewelry. Those nasty bitches were piling on the stupid. I looked it over; it was old, maybe going as far back as Timur aka Tamerlane to the English-speaking world. The 'cord' was made of hair; probably horse tail hair. I had no reciprocal gift to offer; absolutely nothing this valuable. But wait, I did! Somewhere there was a Havenstone bureau, department, or office that hung on to the artifacts ALL the Houses had accumulated over the passage of years. Some of that shit was mine; Ishara's. Our house had expired before the colonies became states. That still equated to a long period of pack-ratting. I'd put a minion on it right away! I'd pray that they didn't have plans for the weekend; later. "It arrived this morning and you are only giving it to me now?" I grumbled. "That message was meant for me, not for any of the rest of you. Where is the rest of it? Oh, and you're on the list." "It was consumed in its examination," Troika blatantly lied. "You have a visual copy," Pamela sounded bored. "Give it to him." "I do not carry such things around on a handheld device," Troika parried. "Ah; that's theft," Pamela gave a slender grin. "Just so we are clear." "If Cáel Ishara wished to put forth such an accusation to Hayden, I will be prepared to defend my actions," Troika gave a hostile glare right back. "That won't be necessary," I snorted. "I'm good. Pamela, I'm out for the weekend. Have fun." I turned and walked away. "Count the days, Troika," Pamela menaced. "I'm not afraid," she countered. "I don't care, but in 21 days, Cáel's ban on internal conflict will be at an end. Like me, he will not go to a corrupted Hayden for justice. We will be exacting it in our own way and in our own time. That you should worry about," Pamela gave a tilt of the head, a feral grin and joined me in departing. In Hittite, she said;  "A matron, 21 Runners and one archaic mistake," Troika joked. In Hittite, she said; "But how many more 'Runners' can he recruit between now and then?" one of Troika's bodyguards worried. "More than enough to raise your daughters after you are all gone and forgotten," Pamela shouted over her shoulder. (Starting Friday Evening in the Wrong Damn Place) Waiting outside for me were two beauties and a small car. I hefted my bike, detached the front wheel for easier storage and climbed into the Lilliputian backseat. "Sorry," Libra in the passenger seat sounded embarrassed. "I'm not sure Brooke and I thought this through. Do you have a seat belt?" She was referring to the rear-mounted cup holder I was sitting in. "This is not rated for human occupation," I grinned back. What that really meant was there were three conflicting emotions pulling events along. Wanting me to fuck them; the easy one. Loyalty to your social/sorority sister; the relationship under stress. Me being a 'suitable' human being; the one that they were both stumbling toward which made the second emotional force such a problem. Had I solely been a fuck toy for either one, the other could have gracefully exited the field (with the occasional sharing). I was far from 'husband' material yet I was closing in on being the 'crossing a crowded club to greet me' kind of guy; already passed the 'not embarrassed to introduce me to their friends' phase. "You can sit in my lap," Brooke offered. With her driving and our height differential; we'd be lucky to be pulled by the PD before we wrecked. "How about you drive, I sit in Libra's seat and she sits in my lap?" I offered. "That's no fun," Brooke shot me a pout. "It sounds like fun for me," Libra giggled. "Now Libra remember, for the seat belt to be effective, you will have to sit facing me;” I sighed. "Facing you?" she winked. "Yes; facing me naked," I assured her. "Hey!" Brooke protested. "How come she gets to be naked in your lap?" "Otherwise me being naked would be pretty pointless," I explained. "Libra," Brooke demanded, "you get to drive." Petty arguments and playful exchanges followed. I left a message for Timothy and Odette, letting them know I was heading out to some address on the far end of Long Island. I even shot myself in the foot with the Nerf gun and told Timothy so he'd feel better. Brooke and Libra were dressed similarly. Red and khaki almost 'short-shorts', white/yellow bikini tops under white wife-beaters covered with a denim shirt (sleeves rolled up) and white cargo short-sleeved shirt, tennis socks and canvas shoes. In a way, I was a victim of my own success. Both ladies wanted to fuck me bad, but their desire to prove to me I was more than a fuck toy meant I didn't get sex at my place. If you are a girl, that will make much more sense. The car ride out was an issue. If I drove, Brooke and Libra promised to put on a Sapphic display for the ages. If Libra drove, I promised to publically molest Brooke at every stop. The reverse went for Brooke driving. The solution was that the girls would take turns driving and I would be a truly diligent cunnilinguist, with a strong background as an anatomically astute Braille harpsichord player. Our destination turned out to be the hamlet of Sagaponack, aka the most expensive place to live in the United States. Why was I doing this to myself? For starters, Brooke thought our host, Brennan Sulkanen, lived in one of those $50+ million homes; funny, I thought those were called estates. The girls laughed when I told them that. My utter lack of forethought, underutilized intelligence gathering capabilities, and even not acting my age were coming back to chew a huge hunk off my heine now. Brennan was a fraternity brother of Trent; warning indicator #1. Brennan didn't actually do anything, but his father was loaded; situation getting worse. Brennan was the youngest of the three sons from the first marriage with three other children from two other marriages waiting in the wings. A quick search revealed that the third and current Mrs. Sulkanen, was very elegant for a thirty-two year old lady. His current Mom being the same age as his oldest brother could be an issue. I was living proof how good parenting could help build up a child. Improper parenting; could do the opposite. Nothing was guaranteed though. "So, why are we going to Brennan's?" I hazarded to inquire as we cruised down Highway 27 through East Patchogue. In the back of my mind, I realized I was due south of scenic Doebridge and their frisky policewomen/Stasi law enforcers. "Oh, we met in college when I came up for one of Trent's; that loser; frat functions," she told us. "He was very drunk and tried to hit on me," the tale continued. "How and where did he 'hit' on you?" I prodded. "He stumbled into the Ladies' room, knocked my drink over and tried to give me his, but I was insulted by his inebriated pawing and left," Brooke said. Lone drunk men DO stumble into Ladies' rooms; usually to vomit. Frat brothers hit on each other's girls; men are pigs. Greeks are pigs with tie pins and secret handshakes. Drunk people do not demolish another person's drink then offer up their own. The spilling of alcohol is a drink-worthy event which you can't do if you have given your drink away. Man math: Brennan stalked Brooke, ambushed her in the bathroom and tried to roofie her with his drink because our host was a dirt bag and a total ass-bandit. How had I failed to do some basic 4 1 1 on this bastard? Oh yeah, brought an extinct First House to life, multiple threats to my well-being, treated like crap by most of my co-workers and then my father was murdered. "I repeat; why are we going to this guy's house?" I asked. "He's been persistent ever since Trent bailed and he sounds so worried about me," she answered. "Oh, I don't want you to think I'm using you as Brennan-deterrent, Cáel," she added. "I wanted to get out of the city and be with you; and Libra." I was more than Brennan-deterrent alright. I was a 'Highway Closed Indefinitely' sign for his edification. This was okay with Brooke (and me) because of all the sex we were going to have. "Thanks," Libra teased her pal. My dilemma was that despite all the positive emotions wafting my way, I wasn't one of 'them' yet. I couldn't simply say 'this dude is a scumbag. Let's go somewhere else.' This was going to take some tact and pretty much annihilated my hopes for a weekend to unwind. I had to play nice and at the first opportunity pull our host aside and politely inform him that I was going to floss his teeth with his still functioning intestines if any of us partook of something we hadn't asked for, ended up in some spot we hadn't wanted to go to, and/or doing something we didn't want to do. My diplomatic approach was from some movie that was way before CGI. It was ('you' meaning 'me': 'I want you to be nice; until it is time; to not be nice.') I was going to give Brennan's survival instincts the benefit of the doubt. I felt certain he wasn't enchanted with the idea of personal pain and I was going to let him know there wasn't a bank account deep enough to protect him from my wrath. If there was ever any doubt; I'm an idiot. We pulled up to the gate right before eight. Yes; one of those nice wrought-iron, automatic opening double gates. Brooke answered the security screen and in we went. Two people, definitely staff, met us as we parked. There was six cars present already, all variations of the high-performance, turbo-charged, 'Daddy/Mommy don't love me so they gave me this deathtrap instead' ideal. Cargo space? Fuel efficiency? Excessive safety features? Not a concern for this crowd. There was a momentary bout of confusion as the male staffer came for my baggage. I thanked him. He looked at me funny. Brooke insisted the female staffer give directions to where her/Libra's luggage was going so I did the same with the guy. My stuff was not only not heading to Brooke's room, I was being banished to another branch of this sprawling villa. "Take my stuff to their room," I directed the man. "Sir, a different room has been set aside for the gentleman," he insisted. "Oh; okay," I nodded. I took my bags from him, much to his surprise, and followed the 'maid'. Brooke and Libra laughed at my obstinacy and tagged along. Our introduction to the 'pack' was delayed and, by his look, Brennan wasn't happy with my detour. I wasn't happy either, but for a different reason. "Brooke; Libra, right? Cecil?" he clearly was disrespecting me straight out of the gates. Brooke and Libra said 'hi'. I was a little less diplomatic and I was staring down the barrels of a serious crimp in my main battle plan. There were two dissipated young ladies, three men of the same caliber and two guys I identified hangers-on. Most likely rich; just not rich enough to be treated as equals by the majority. Then there was this one girl who was certainly the unsuspecting party favor. You can learn all kinds of thing about the darker side of male-female relationships at Spring Break if you pay attention. The vacation can be wonderful, but seeing fuck-head bottom-feeders getting girls wasted for the eternal glory of Girls Gone Wild and the ability to stick their prick into someplace it doesn't belong, and they haven't earned the right to be in, truly sucks. For the moment, I had to look past her. The focus of my anxiety was a couple, both African-American and from a different mold than everyone else there. I knew the guy because he was somewhat famous. "Hey Bitch," I replied in an off-handed manner. "What?" Brennan hammed up his confusion. The 'Home Alone' gasp. What had he done wrong? "What?" I responded. "Did you just call me a 'bitch'?" he clarified. "No," I lied. "I didn't even know you were talking to me. Hi, I'm Cáel Nyilas. Who are you again?" "I think you called me a bitch," Brennan watched his whole weekend plan to dispose of me coming gift wrapped here in the opening round. He looked to the 'famous' guy. I am an idiot. "Well, with your family money, I'm sure you can hire top notch Otolaryngologist to handle that hearing problem of yours," I grinned. "Orlando, what do you think Kibble here said?" Brennan indicated the guy. "Orlando Keyes," I smiled. "Man, you are one mean son of a bitch. That fighter from Ecuador; missed his name; you broke his left cheek with one hit during that MMA bout in New Orleans last Thanksgiving. The only thing almost as impressive was that guy managed to stand up afterwards." No, I wasn't buttering this guy up. There was no point. I only knew about him because the whole 'martial ardor' doesn't have to be yours to get some tail. Girls who like watching physical combat; MMA, Kick-boxing, Boxing, and the NHL (WWE if they are somewhat gullible); will jump on your bones at the completion of that match. "I think this cunt called you his bitch," Orlando came my way. I gently pushed Brooke and Libra aside to give me space. "You are mistaken," I kept smiling at Orlando. "I was calling that lady over there," I pointed at the lady he had been talking to, "my bitch for tonight. The acoustics in this place must suck." Outdoor pool; the Atlantic Ocean crashing less than 100 meters away; this place rocked. "You are going to die," Brennan laughed at me. Keyes kept coming. "Right, or left?" I asked him in a pleasant tone. He glared yet hesitated. "What does it matter?" Orlando studied me. He had stopped being a hired thug and returned to being a modern day gladiator. "I'm packing so I wanted to know which knee you can live without," I stated. "He's got a gun?" one of the other males mumbled. "Gun?" Orlando's eyes narrowed. "Knife," I corrected. At this point, everyone but Orlando and I felt better. In that snippet, Orlando and I exchanged a vital piece of information; I was going to hurt him. No matter what he did, I was going to put a knife into him. How did he know? I had warned him and I laughed at Death. I wasn't bluffing and Orlando made his life's work piercing his opponent's deceptions. "That's my fiancé," Orlando grumbled. I extended my hand. "I apologize then," I said as he shook my hand. "That was rude of me and uncalled for. Not only is she one of the classiest ladies here, she was hanging out with you, a man not known for accepting anything short of the perfect match. Besides," I whispered, "we both know who I was truly talking about." Orlando wasn't happy with me, or forgiven me. What he did accept was that I'd given him an out. I had backed down and apologized. Brennan was frowning. Orlando and I didn't care; we were both fighters and we'd both ponied up on the promise of pain. If there was to be a conflict, he wasn't going to do it for Brennan. He was going to do it because he always wanted to know how tough the other guy really was. Names floated around. The only people that mattered to me were Anima and Casper. Anima was Brennan's 'girlfriend' which I translated as a debauchery enabler. She was under the delusion that life was boring and pointless, so she should punish the world for her ennui. Her life's cup had been emptied at twenty-three? Bitch, I worked with real women who couldn't even consider such nonsense. Casper; Casper was going to be a problem. For starters, Anima had taken Casper under her wing; was going to show Casper the 'ropes'. Casper proudly proclaimed that. Casper was also not as rich as the 'in crowd' and not a hanger-on; she was the weekend's amusement, or would have been if Brooke hadn't shown up. And, of course, she couldn't see the danger, she was so eager to be with the super-rich. After the name game came the initial party shuffle. Who was aiming for whose bedroom tonight and how would they get what they wanted. Brennan sent two backup boys cruising for Libra while he angled in for Brooke. Anima and Casper were supposed to keep me busy. Libra promptly showed she'd thumbed through my Book of Social Fugliness. "I only date real men," she shredded the 'second-stringers' to pieces. The blast socially staggered them. "If you have to think about it, boys, you are not a man. Don't strain yourself trying to be something you can't even comprehend. Now one of you go get me a drink while I think about what Cáel and I are going to do to Brooke tonight." In social parlance, that was shooting someone with both barrels of a shotgun then using the stock to tenderize the remains. That was one flank secure. Next, Casper and Anima. Anima had the feeling I didn't like her; good for her. "Would you really have cut Orlando?" Casper asked me softly while she ran a fingernail over my right forearm. "Casper, to begin with, call him Mr. Keyes. There will come a time when you can freely use his first name, but you ain't there yet," I cautioned her. "To answer your question: yes, I would have sliced down and across, cutting his right hamstring." Keyes heard me, as I had intended. "Brennan says you are a co-worker of Trent," Anima cooed. "Kind of," I shrugged. "Trent is a big-shot with the Far East Unit while I remain in Personnel in the city (Manhattan)." They both looked disappointed then Casper handed me a plum. She wasn't stupid, just willfully blind. "Where did you learn to use a knife then?" Casper tried to 'salvage' me. She was doing herself a favor by trying to make me look better to the rest; doing me a favor. Nice. "I'm with the Records Redaction Unit of Havenstone's Executive Services," I lied. Blink. "That doesn't make any sense," Casper's brow furrowed. "You delete records?" "No Casper," I returned her arm rub, "someone creates a list with names on it. I am part of the team that reduces the number of those names on that list to zero." Blink. "You fire people?" she remained uncertain. She had to believe I was playing with her, which I was. "No," I shook my head. "That implies extra paperwork. We take a more ergonomic approach. No termination rigmarole; no traceable termination at all." "That sounds vaguely like you murder people," Anima murmured. "Murder is a crime. Converting all the data of a given person into one, misplaced file is a way of circumventing the whole 'exit interview/providing references for other jobs/pension' process." If you believed that this nation, nay, the whole world, was run by soulless corporate monsters that made scary sense. "What do you do with the people?" Anime was showing the tiniest bit of enthusiasm for this conversation. "What people? People have names," I smiled. "Bodies with no records are normally handled as John and Jane Does and are buried in Potter's Field, or used at medical schools." "Do you enjoy sex with multiple partners?" Anima smiled; veering the conversation off in a different dir

What did you think of this episode?Are you ready to write a devotional that changes lives? What if you could complete yours in 90 days? Linda Goldfarb's industry expert is… Janet McHenry is the author of 27 traditionally published books—including the bestselling PrayerWalk, Praying Personalities, and her newest, Looking Up! She teaches nonfiction form at writers' conferences around the country and hosts the Sierra Valley Writers Retreat twice yearly. Her favorite thing is seeing lightbulbs light up in writers' eyes. Welcome to Your Best Writing Life, an extension of the Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers Conference held in the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains of NC. I'm your host, Linda Goldfarb. Each week, I bring tips and strategies from writing and publishing industry experts to help you excel in your craft. I'm so glad you're listening in. Alright, let's head into our content for today… How to write a 365-day devotional book in 90 days Janet, help us out...You wrote 200,000 words for three different books in less than a year. How did that happen? And how do you schedule your writing time? Your most recent book, Looking Up!, is a 365-day devotional book that you wrote in three months' time. How did you pace yourself to get that done? How would you coach someone in writing a devotion? What elements are important? And you say sometimes writers miss one—what is that? LINKSListener giveaway - E-book: Prayer Helps: Scripture-Based Prayers When You Don't Know How to Pray: https://www.janetmchenry.com/mini-magazine Latest book - Looking Up! Finding Joy as You Read and Pray Through the Bible: A Daily Devotional (Our Daily Bread Publications, Nov. 5, ,2024): You can find out more about Janet McHenry here. Website: https://www.janetmchenry.com Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/JanetMcHenryAuthor/ Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/janetmchenry/ Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/janetmchenry/ X: https://x.com/LookingUpFirst Visit Your Best Writing Life website.Join our Facebook group, Your Best Writing LifeYour host - Linda Goldfarb#1 Podcast in the "Top 50+ Must-Have Tools and Resources for Christian Writers in 2024". Awarded the Spark Media 2022 Most Binge-Worthy PodcastAwarded the Spark Media 2023 Fan Favorites Best Solo Podcast

The FormerFedsGroup Freedom Foundation (FFFF), a 501(c)(3) organization, announced the filing of a Petition for Writ of Mandamus with the U.S. Supreme Court. The petition seeks immediate action to protect the integrity of the 2024 federal elections and represents families whose loved ones were lost to hospital treatment protocols during the COVID-19 pandemic. These families, now standing united, aim to ensure that the upcoming elections are free, fair, and constitutional.The petition, submitted by attorney Edward Lacy Tarpley Jr., argues that both voters and these families have been denied informed consent—whether in medical decisions or in the way their votes are counted. The petitioners are calling for sweeping reforms to eliminate vulnerabilities in the election system and ensure that only lawful votes are counted.Follow Ann Vandersteel on Pickax: https://pickax.com/annvandersteelProtect your financial future with precious metals! Download your FREE Gold and Silver Guide from Genesis Gold when you use code VANDERSTEEL and take control of your financial destiny! https://pickaxgold.comElevate your meals with Freedom First Beef… even if you find yourself in the middle of the apocalypse! Use code FFN for 25% off and enjoy high-quality beef whenever you crave it – today or tomorrow! https://freedomfirstbeef.comBe ready for anything life throws your way with The Wellness Company's Medical Emergency Kit. Order today using code FFN for a 10% discount at https://twc.health/ffn.Unleash the spirit of liberty in every cup with Freedom First Coffee's Founders Blend. Order now using code RIGHTNOW and savor the unparalleled taste of freedom in every patriotic sip. https://freedomfirstcoffee.com

In this episode we take a look at the brief in support of a writ of mandamus or a writ of prohibition court filing.(commercial at 14:56)to contact me:bobbycapucci@protonmail.comsource:Microsoft Word - Media Coalition_Kohberger Gag Order - Brief in Support of Petition for Writ of Mandamus(118338028.6) (idaho.gov)

In this episode we take a look at the brief in support of a writ of mandamus or a writ of prohibition court filing.(commercial at 13:53)to contact me:bobbycapucci@protonmail.comsource:Microsoft Word - Media Coalition_Kohberger Gag Order - Brief in Support of Petition for Writ of Mandamus(118338028.6) (idaho.gov)

The Herle Burly was created by Air Quotes Media with support from our presenting sponsor TELUS, as well as CN Rail.Greetings, you curiouser and curiouser Herle Burly-ites! Starting with a programming announcement of sorts: Over the next number of weeks … your moderately attractive and issues-oriented friends at Air Quotes Media pledge to bring you deep coverage of our current provincial elections. Our sister pod – Hotel Pacifico – has now gone daily to cover every square inch of political ground in B.C. Give a listen to Mike, Kate and Geoff … they're quite amazing. The political panel on Curse of Politics will weigh in on stuff whenever its politically relevant.  And over here on The Herle Burly, we'll do some deep conversation on the other races in play – Saskatchewan and New Brunswick. And maybe, just maybe, Ontario??? Today … it's Saskatchewan! Writ drops any day now. Here to set the scene along with this boy from Prelate … 1 other son of the prairies – Conservative strategist and campaign manager, the aforementioned Kory Teneycke… and a man who, although born and raised in Quebec, had a major impact on Saskatchewan politics as Deputy Chief of Staff to NDP Premier Roy Romanow, Brian Topp.The three of us are going to take stock of the 2 major parties heading into their campaigns: Scott Moe's Saskatchewan Party, and Carla Beck's NDP.Where are they currently? What are their strategies to win and what does a path to victory look like? What are the central issues to voters? And what role will the marginal parties play in all of this?Thank you for joining us on #TheHerleBurly podcast. Please take a moment to give us a rating and review on iTunes, Spotify, Stitcher, Google Podcasts or your favourite podcast app.Watch episodes of The Herle Burly via Air Quotes Media on YouTube.

“That's NOT how you eat a chili dog…”   The allure of SHOCK ROCK is, has been, and always will be the LIVE component of it; being at the show and viscerally experiencing all of the sights and sounds, in the flesh and in the moment. While many artists do also have lyrical subject matter which might make them eligible for placement in the SHOCK ROCK subgenre (see also “devil stuff”), the primary component to ensure proper “shock rock” cred is the LIVE concert experience, the actual SHOW!    Whether it's spitting blood, breathing fire, or doing an onstage duet with a boa constrictor, the key to really selling (and properly enjoying) SHOCK ROCK is the actual concert experience itself (because THAT is what sells records…or used to anyway). And what better and more convenient way to illustrate this point than with a brief concert review of the ALICE COOPER/ROB ZOMBIE show that recently came through Atlanta on “Friday The 13th Eve” during the Freaks On Parade tour stop.   Just remember, “you gotta question, we've gotta answer for you”, because we're like “The Alex Jones of Metal” which means that this show is extremely “professional done”. Fix yourself a “duck sandwich” and prepare for some unexpected (and “unredacted”) Triangle outtakes along with some unbelievably stunning “suddenly science” factoids that you won't want to miss when you JOIN US as we enjoy Russell's Reflections (Concert Edition) regarding the ALICE COOPER/ROB ZOMBIE co-headlining show and dig into the unsettling, off-putting, and spine-tingling nature of SHOCK ROCK.   Visit www.metalnerdery.com/podcast for more on this episode Help Support Metal Nerdery https://www.patreon.com/metalnerderypodcast   Leave us a Voicemail to be played on a future episode: 980-666-8182 Metal Nerdery Tees and Hoodies – metalnerdery.com/merch and kindly leave us a review and/or rating on the iTunes/Apple Podcasts - Spotify or your favorite Podcast app Listen on iTunes, Spotify, Podbean, or wherever you get your Podcasts. Follow us on the Socials: Facebook - Instagram - Twitter Email: metalnerdery@gmail.com Can't be LOUD Enough Playlist on Spotify   Metal Nerdery Munchies on YouTube @metalnerderypodcast Show Notes: (00:01): “Nicely…” / “I wasn't ready when Bill pushed the button and then I started talkin'…”/ #harddicksandairplanes / “By we, I mean me…”/ “Like a romance novel hammer?” / #harlequin / “Did you spit in that? Did you come in that?” / #extraflavor #markthetime (“Is that the peanut butter?”) / “I did take care of the #undercarriage today…”/ #tobefair / “I think we did the best #Manscaped commercials…”/ ***WARNING: #listenerdiscretionisadvised *** / “Maybe like a sandy one…” / #worldhastoomanyprobrems / ***WELCOME BACK TO THE METAL NERDERY PODCAST!!!*** / “Cloudy but crystal infused…”/ #vinylhifi #BlackSabbath #FisherSpeakers / “Quality lasts forever…”/ #thisepisodesbeeroftheepisode / “I saw it, I had to buy it…”/ #hardmountaindew #fivepointzeropercentABV #GreenRebel #TheVerdict / “It tastes like a #MountainDewZero …or #DietMountainDew …”/ #heartburn vs #headache / “It's probably got #cancer in it…”/ #RussellsReflectionsASMR / #AliceCooper and #RobZombie / “I don't know if it was a reduction or an addition…one of those kinds of surgeries…”/ “Thank you for wearing the #MetalNerderyPodcastHoodie at the show…”/ #onmicburpASMR / “He's a good mechanic dude…”/ #magicshow / “That was with #IronMaiden…that was with #JudasPriest …”/ #RussellsReflectionsConcertEditionASMR / “How did the crowd react to him?” / “It'd be like #KISS opening for #Poison …” / #thatmakesmoresense / “It was everything I wanted to see…”/ “How old is he?”    (10:21): “Do we have any correspondencees?” / #queshion #oriental / “That's the best!”/ ***You can check us out on the #socialmedia at #metalnerderypodcast OR you can join us on the #Patreon at patreon.com/metalnerderypodcast OR you can email us at metalnerdery@gmail.com *** / #PatreonShoutOuts / “Last night AND tonight…”/ #EmberingEffigy #YonderwaysFestival / “Okay, NOW can I do it?” / ***IF YOU WANNA GIVE US A CALL AND LEAVE US A VOICEMAIL YOU CAN DO SO AT 980-666-8182!!!*** / #VoicemailSegment #WhoAreYou / “Let me do that again…”/ #djentleman #pissingpostASMR / “They're like…they're almost like #gushers…”/ #professionalsquirters / “And we have another #voicemail…”/ #FD&CYellowNumberFive / “That'll be the #hairmetal band…”/ #EmberingEffigyASMR #AllHailTheMightyDale / “That's mostly #poonmaintenance though if you think about it…”/ “Next time…we won't commit to anything…”/ “Your hair looks #totally80s …”/ #wings / “Like you're about to go fight Biff in the parking lot…”/ “He's still got hair!”/ “No you're not dude, it slims…”/ “Don't say that, dude…because now I've gotta imagine you sucking on a chili dog outside the #TastyFreeze …that's not how you eat a #chilidog…”   (19:04): “Back to the concert…”/ “What was the theme?”/ “You know dude, #KISS has done that forever…you have a defined show…that's what people go to see.” / #nitastraussishotASMR / #professionaldone / “I got a LOT of sleep…”/ “I'm not getting up at 6:43 on a Saturday…” / “It's all about the journey…” / “Zombie was great, but he did a lot of B-side stuff…”/ #yeah / “Compared to the #LimpBizkit crowd…the #Zombie show was a crowd full of #Strippers …”/ “Quick interjection…it's only you…”/ “You would be disappointed if you went to see him and he didn't play that…”/ “If I'm going to see #SammyHagar I'm not going to see #VanHalen …that's why I feel like it's weird the other way…”/ #itsaBONUS / “I can dig it…it just seems a little weird…”/ #DickFaece #DCComics or #MarvelComics / “He just spits at people?” / “Kinda like #SpiderMan with the webs but it comes from his face…” / #BramStrokersDickFaece / “No we shoot porn out back…”   (25:55): #TheDocket METAL NERDERY PODCAST PRESENTS:  ALICE COOPER & SHOCK ROCK / “Alice was kinda the first…”/ #ScreamingJayHawkins / “If YOU did it…it'd be #weirdlyracist …”/ “I didn't know that #AliceCooper was the band name when they first came out…”/ #AliceDiceCooper / “That's better…”/ “Some of these I wouldn't have taken as #shockrock bands…”/ “Is that what shock rock is…the show?” / “Really, you just ‘stole' it?” / “Didn't #Coven do #McDonaldLandMassacre?” / “That sounds weirdly strange…” / #AliceCooper BILLION DOLLAR BABIES / “I didn't touch that…” / #taketwo / “We go dancing, nightly, in the attic…” / GO TO HELL (“What year was that?”) / #creepyseventiesstyle / “That's kinda heavy…”/ “I didn't imagine that…you heard it.”/ “There's motion at your #backdoor …”/ WELCOME TO MY NIGHTMARE / “I remember him doing this on #TheMuppets …”/ ONLY WOMEN BLEED / “This is the same melody as…is it The Writ?” / “Technically, in a way, Sabbath was kinda shock rock…”/ #BlackSabbath THE WRIT / “Isn't that #crookedcocksyndrome when you have #PeyroniesDisease?” / “That's what we just heard from Alice Cooper…”/ “I see what you're saying, but you're wrong…”/ “It's the same melody…” / #parallelthinking / “They're all ripping off #PinkFloyd…” / “We're like the #AlexJonesOfMetal …”/ “It's raining right now…I'll be right back…”   (40:22): “Y'all remember McDonaldland Massacre on #WREKage right?” / “Are there any independent witches out there?” / “I don't know that that's the same band…” / #Coven MCDONALDLAND MASSACRE / “Oh I think I do remember that…”/ “It's #acidrock man…”/ “We're gonna have to fire this up…”/ “Which do you think is more shocking? #WhiteZombie or #RobZombie?” / #WhiteZombie WELCOME TO PLANET MOTHERFUCKER / “I like the creepy film stuff in the background…”/ “Let's take the back door…” / “What were some of the #deepcuts that he played?” / “that's got an E by it, bro…” / “It's just the way you say pussy, dude…” / #RobZombie PUSSY LIQUOR / “Play number 9…” / WELL, EVERYBODY'S FUCKING IN A UFO / “Primus?” / “That's like hearing James Hetfield singing like King Diamond…”   (52:57): “How about a little #?” / “He was more all about the show…”/ “Either way…you're good.” / I HATE PEOPLE / “This is what influenced #DreamTheater totally…”/ “Maybe kinda like with #KISS …it's all about the show.” / #WendyOWilliams #Plasmatics / “I had a thing for her when I was a little kid…”/ “Produced by #GeneSimmons I knew it…” / IT'S MY LIFE (“Sounds like KISS…”) / NOTE:  it sounds like Heaven's On Fire / PIG IS A PIG (“I think it's more punk rock…”) / NOTE:  Welcome to #CountryNerderyPodcast …/ “Y'know what, I get lonely on the farm sometimes, y'all…” / “That's a #scientificfact man…dude, it's #science…” / #suddenlyscience / “All that devil stuff is considered shock rock…”/ “You're being modest, dude…” / “Look at that, KISS is right next to King Diamond on the list…”/ #KimDracula / “I'll bet that's on #YouTube…” / #alphabets    (1:01:56): “Is there anything anymore that's really, REALLY, shocking?” / “If you haven't seen #JohnWick the first one by now… #GFY and we're sorry…”/ “You fell asleep at the theater?” / #ReAnimator / “Favorite part of that movie…”/ “My masturbation game was never the same after that…” / #GWAR / “You make movie for me to watch later!” / FUCK THIS PLACE / “Did he just say ‘we fucked apes and gave birth to the human race'?” / “It's the reverse of the #MidasTouch …” / #moneygrab    (1:08:52): “We need a couple more…” / “Not sickey mouse…”/ “On #Facebook? Or like #realfriends?” / #wetalkallthetime / #Slipknot (SIC) / #drumsolo #RussellsReflections / #EloyCasagrande / “At least next time I won't have to worry about a #vaccinepassport …”/ “They're already eating animals in Ohio…and Pennsylvania…”/ “A bunch?” #tensofthousands / “that's dinner…”/ “I've never had a #ducksandwich though…”/ #TheTriangleUnredactedASMR / “He fell into the trap…”/  “Nope, don't do it…”/ “I don't like either one of them…”/ “They hate #Trump so much, and here's what needs to happen…”/ “You can vote yourself into #Socialism … you can't vote yourself out…” / #taxpayerfunded / “I think she's gonna win everything…”/ “Sorry, we just #Triangled this motherfucker all the way to the end…”/ THANK YOU FOR JOINING US!!! / “We didn't even play #KISS …” / “He's all in…”/ #untilthenext / ***STOP BY THE BUNKERPOON GIFT SHOPPE AND PICK UP SOME #METALNERDERYMERCH AT metalnerdery.com/merch *** / #outroreel   

"I Wanted to be Mr. Miyagi. . .'Cause He Was the True 'G'." On this Episode 94 of The DOD45 Show #ArtByTai draws a mash-up of Labyrinth's Hoggle, an Aardvark, Writ & Gregory of Over the Garden Wall, Outkast, a Whale and Justin Vernon of Bon Iver while Cas One provides heaps of laughs for Tai & Adrienne. They also discuss Cas One's recent single "No Deer Hunter" produced by ALXNDRBRWN. It's an all-smiles kind of episode with a few jaw-dropping stories sprinkled through-out. Guest: Cas One Show Intro provided by Awol One (  @awolone  ) Social Media Lurk by Sage Francis (  @therealsagefrancis  ) Mayo or Miracle Whip question with Mr. Dibbs (  @mrfuckingdibbs ) ArtByTai.com - DOD45.com - StrangeFamousRecords.com - MrDibbs.com - Speakerface.Store Episode recommendations: "Summer School" - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R0zK5ggTyYQ "Sky Lark" by Sabot & M. Sayyid - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xWl1nL0ZBUw "Rapping4Money" by Themselves - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lAX7cVrqaKY - DOD45 Luvs 'song share' playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4dn8I37ew07y7aCeCs6qAn?si=b856689724da4b7c Instagram links: Cas One: https://www.instagram.com/cas_one/ ArtByTai: https://www.instagram.com/artbytai DOD45: https://www.instagram.com/dod45w Links to topics mentioned in the intro, the interview and the outro of this #DOD45 Show: TBA --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/artbytai/support

Welcome to another episode of Category Visionaries — the show that explores GTM stories from tech's most innovative B2B founders. In today's episode, we're speaking with Adam Weinstein, CEO & Co-Founder at Writ, a Business Intelligence platform that has raised $3.8 Million in funding. Here are the most interesting points from our conversation: BI Market Positioning: Adam discusses how Writ operates in the BI market, focusing on the divide between operational reporting and traditional enterprise-governed dashboards. Category Creation in BI: Writ is navigating the BI market with the intention of making "operational reporting" a more prominent category, even though it's not yet widely recognized. Strategic Labeling: Despite aspirations to differentiate, Adam acknowledges that labeling Writ within the BI market is necessary for attracting investment, as that's where the money currently flows. Future of Operational Reporting: Adam shares plans to make "operational reporting" a more recognized and valued concept within the BI landscape, potentially creating a new subcategory. Balancing Innovation and Market Expectations: Adam touches on the challenges of balancing innovative ideas with market realities, especially when communicating value to potential investors. Market Strategy Evolution: Adam hints at Writ's evolving market strategy, suggesting that the current BI market positioning might shift as the company grows and the category of operational reporting gains traction.   //   Sponsors: Front Lines — We help B2B tech companies launch, manage, and grow podcasts that drive demand, awareness, and thought leadership. www.FrontLines.io The Global Talent Co. — We help tech startups find, vet, hire, pay, and retain amazing marketing talent that costs 50-70% less than the US & Europe.  www.GlobalTalent.co  

Hour 3 Audio from WGIG-AM and FM in Brunswick, GA

Lew Bryson is on the show this week. He's a long-time writer in the beer and whisky space, a voice of reason, and honestly just a force of good and positivity in an otherwise dreary world.I've been fortunate to call  Bryson a friend for the better part of 20 years now. As a writer starting off in the beer space he was one of a few that was generous with his time, advice, and expertise. That's not a unique to me experience. Lew has helped so many better understand drinks and culture.  He's kind and intelligent with the kind of resume that can only come with being among the very best. He was managing editor of Whisky Advocate magazine for 20 years. He is the author of Tasting Whiskey, and Whiskey Master Class, and writes a column for Craft Spirits Magazine.  His work has appeared in countless publications, including a long stint in All About Beer.  Bryson is a Kentucky Colonel, and a member of The Order of The Writ, an honorary association of the bourbon industry.  He lives in central Pennsylvania, which is the topic of his podcast, “Seen Through A Glass." – a show you should tune into regularly.  A few months back we were approached by Rich Colli of Varga Bar to do an event for Philly Beer Week. It was great fun, pouring and talking about whisky and beer. Before all that we sat down at Victory Brewing in Philly, to talk about writing, careers, home bars, and more.  For more Drink Beer, Think Beer check out All About Beer.Host: John HollGuests: Lew BrysonSponsors: All About BeerTags: Lager, Whisky, Home Bars, BooksPhoto by John Holl 

From Beneath The Hollywood Sign is thrilled to welcome our newest sponsor, www.HappyMammoth.com. Use code BENEATH at checkout for 15% off of your entire first order! EPISODE 40 - “Old Hollywood's Forbidden Love Story/ Lon McCallister & William Eythe” - 06/17/2024 As we celebrate gay pride month in June, Nan and Steve bring a special episode about 20th Century Fox contract players LON McCALLISTER and WILLIAM EYTHE. Both were handsome, talented, and on their way to becoming major film stars. But there was only one problem — the two young men had fallen in love and wanted to live their lives as a couple. This love was forbidden back then and went against the wishes of 20th Century Fox studio head DARRYL F. ZANUCK. Listen to this inspiring and heartbreaking story of their love story.  SHOW NOTES:  Sources: Behind the Scenes: How Gays and Lesbians Shaped Hollywood (2001), by William J. Mann; It Might As Well Be Spring (1987), by Margaret Whiting; “Terrific Trio,” May 1944, by Marcia Daughtrey, Modern Screen; “Keyhole Portrait: William Eythe,” June 4, 1944, by Harriet Parson, Los Angeles Examiner; “Bill Eythe's Triumph Over Pain,” April 1, 1945, New York Times; “The Role I Liked Best…” September 2, 1950, by Lon McCallister, The Saturday Evening Post; “Film Actor Eythe Jailed on Writ of Former Wife,” September 4, 1950, Los Angeles Daily News; “Actor Suffered Hangover in Durance Vile,” June 3, 1952, Los Angeles Daily News; “William Eythe, Producer, Held as Drunk Driver,” June 4, 1952, Los Angeles Times; “Eythe, McCallister Prep ‘Joy Ride' for Broadway,” March 12, 1956, Hollywood Reporter; “William Eythe Ill With Hepatitis, Condition Serious,” January 26, 1957, by Hedda Hopper, Los Angeles Times; “William Eythe Dies,” January 28, 1957, The Hollywood Reporter; Lon McCallister, 82, Actor Had Brief but Busy Career Before Becoming Investor,” June 18, 2005, by Mary Rourke, Los Angeles Times; “McCallister's Heart Outshine His Stardom,” June 21, 2005, by Robert Osborne, Hollywood Reporter; “Mars Actor Had Meteoric Career,” February 4, 2007, by Sandy Marwick, Butler-Eagle Focus; IMDBPro.com; Wikipedia.com; Movies Mentioned:  The Other Woman (1942), starring Virginia Gilmore, Dan Duryea, and Lon McCallister; Stage Door Canteen (1943), starring Katharine Hepburn, Paul Muni, Merle Oberon, and Lon McCallister; The Ox-Bow Incident (1945), starring Henry Fonda, Dana Andrews, Henry Morgan, and Mary Beth Hughes; The Moon Is Down (1936), starring Cedric Hardwicke, Henry Travers, and Lee J. Cobb; The Song of Bernadette (1943), starring Jennifer Jones, Vincent Price, Charles Bickford, and William Eythe;  The Eve of St. Mark (1943), starring William Eythe and Anne Baxter; A Wing and a Prayer (1944), starring Don Ameche, Dana Andrews, and William Eythe; Wilson (1944), starring Alexander Knox, Geraldine Fitzgerald, and William Eythe; Home In Indiana (1944), starring Lon McCallister, Jeanne Crain, and June Haver; Winged Victory (1944), starring Lon McCallister, Edmond O'Brien, and Jeanne Crain; A Royal Scandal (1945), starring Tallulah Bankhead, Lon McCallister, and Anne Baxter; The House On 92nd Street (1945), starring Signe Hasso and William Eythe; Centennial Summer (1946), starring Jeanne Crain, Cornel Wilde, Linda Darnell, and William Eythe; The Red House (1947), starring Edward G. Robinson, Lon McCallister, and Judith Anderson; Thunder in the Valley (1947), starring Edmund Gwenn, Peggy Ann Garner, and Lon McCallister; Scud Hoo! Scudda Hay! (1948), starring Lon McCallister, Walter Brennan, and June Haver; Meet Me at Dawn (1947) starring William Eythe and Hazel Court; The Big Cat (1949), starring Lon McCallister and Peggy Ann Garner; The Story of Sea Biscuit (1949), starring Lon McCallister and Shirley Temple; The Boy From Indiana (1950), starring Lon McCallister and Lois Butler; --------------------------------- http://www.airwavemedia.com Please contact sales@advertisecast.com if you would like to advertise on our podcast. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

PREVIEW: #RUSIA: #PUTIN:  Conversation with colleague Katrina Vanden Heuvel of the Nation Magazine re the changes in the Kremlin leadership, asking who is the new Defense Minister, Andrei Belousov, and what is his writ? Details tonight.  1815 Moscow

Previously on the show we had Karen Kingston on and we discussed the Writ of Mandamus put forward by Dr. Joseph Sansone that made use of her work. On this show we have Dr. Sansone on to give updates on the situation. Joseph Sansone, M.S., PhD is a psychotherapist opposed to psychopathic authoritarianism. https://josephsansone.substack.com/ Sign up for The FLF Conference 2024 (Prodigal America) https://flfnetwork.com/prodigal-america/

Previously on the show we had Karen Kingston on and we discussed the Writ of Mandamus put forward by Dr. Joseph Sansone that made use of her work. On this show we have Dr. Sansone on to give updates on the situation. Joseph Sansone, M.S., PhD is a psychotherapist opposed to psychopathic authoritarianism. https://josephsansone.substack.com/ Sign up for The FLF Conference 2024 (Prodigal America) https://flfnetwork.com/prodigal-america/

(2:00) The Globalist Empire Strikes Back — Shamelessly Absurd Charges, Draconian Punishments — Marxists are throwing everything at former Brazilian president Jair Bolsonaro now charging him with fake vaccine papers (after he famously defied NY and UN vax mandates) that would carry a prison sentence of 2-12 years.  They've even charged him with harassing a humpback whale (seriously, not the Babylon Bee) which could also get him a jail sentence of 2-5 years (28:10) Anderson Cooper confronted on a Beach over his complicity in the mass murder jabs (30:06) Pope Francis attacked "anti-vaxers", calls refusal a "suicidal act of denial" — he said this YESTERDAY.  The evil globalists are NOT done (35:37) The "Covid pandemic" was not just a scam — it was a coup d'etat DONE BY THE STATE (55:52) The media's MEASLES-MADNESS by the VAX-MONGERS continues in an effort to turn public opinion on discredited vaccines. Will it work or will it backfire?  Have people caught on to the scam? (1:11:36) MoneyMore on the Fed saying "CBDC is one of 7 Key Duties" while Fed Chair Powell denies they're working on it.What is "open banking"? — you're NOT going to like it"Progressives" demand interest rate cuts for the electionCRE (Commercial Real Estate) continues to collapse after being hit with the "planes" of lockdown, work from homeGermany running out of money and debt levels are exploding(1:51:10) MethaneSat —Space, the Final Frontier of Climate Lunacy MethaneSat sounds like a whoopee cushion to be sold on Amazon but Bezos is going to use it to sell meat (and farm) bans so he can sell franken-foods. It's the next tool to attack farms.  But they are already disappearing at an amazing rate (or being gobbled up) (2:04:37) INTERVIEW Writ Filed in FL Supreme Court to Compel DeSantis to Ban the JabDr. Joseph Sansone, josephsansone.substack.com, joins to explain the Writ of Mandamus filed with the Supreme Court of Florida that seeks to compel Governor Ron DeSantis and Attorney General Ashley Moody to prohibit distribution of "Covid-19 injections".  FL Surgeon General Ladapo has already declared they need to be stopped as they are clearly and "adulterated substance".  About 1/6 of FL counties have declared it a "bioweapon"Find out more about the show and where you can watch it at TheDavidKnightShow.comIf you would like to support the show and our family please consider subscribing monthly here: SubscribeStar https://www.subscribestar.com/the-david-knight-showOr you can send a donation throughMail: David Knight POB 994 Kodak, TN 37764Zelle: @DavidKnightShow@protonmail.comCash App at: $davidknightshowBTC to: bc1qkuec29hkuye4xse9unh7nptvu3y9qmv24vanh7Money is only what YOU hold: Go to DavidKnight.gold for great deals on physical gold/silverFor 10% off Gerald Celente's prescient Trends Journal, go to TrendsJournal.com and enter the code KNIGHT

Dr. Joseph Sansone joins to explain the Writ of Mandamus filed with the Supreme Court of Florida that seeks to compel Governor Ron DeSantis and Attorney General Ashley Moody to prohibit distribution of "Covid-19 injections".  FL Surgeon General Ladapo has already declared they need to be stopped as they are clearly and "adulterated substance".  About 1/6 of FL counties have declared it a "bioweapon".  Follow Dr. Sansone at josephsansone.substack.comFind out more about the show and where you can watch it at TheDavidKnightShow.comIf you would like to support the show and our family please consider subscribing monthly here: SubscribeStar https://www.subscribestar.com/the-david-knight-showOr you can send a donation throughMail: David Knight POB 994 Kodak, TN 37764Zelle: @DavidKnightShow@protonmail.comCash App at: $davidknightshowBTC to: bc1qkuec29hkuye4xse9unh7nptvu3y9qmv24vanh7Money is only what YOU hold: Go to DavidKnight.gold for great deals on physical gold/silver

Dr. Joseph Sansone, Dr. Ana Mihalcea and Karen Kingston discuss the Writ of Mandamus to prohibit the distribution of CV injections and so much more. Use Promo Code: DIAMOND or TRUMPWONDiamondandSilk.com1. https://DrStellaMD.com2. http://PatchThat.com3. https://www.KattsRemedies.com/shop/ ?aff=34. https://TWC.Health (Spike Protein Support)5. https://CardioMiracle.com6. https://MyPillow.com/TrumpWon7. https://TheDrArdisShow.com/shop-all/8. https://www.Curativabay.com/?aff=19. http://MaskDerma.com10. https://GiveSendGo.com Follow on https://ChatDit.comhttps://FrankSocial.com/u/DiamondandSilk LINDELL TV, CTATV, RSBN, GETTR, RUMBLESee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.