Podcasts about Your God

Christmas Day The Collect: O God, you make us glad by the yearly festival of the birth of your only Son Jesus Christ: Grant that we, who joyfully receive him as our Redeemer, may with sure confidence behold him when he comes to be our Judge; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen. Old Testament: Isaiah 52:7-10 7How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of the messenger who announces peace, who brings good news, who announces salvation, who says to Zion, "Your God reigns." 8Listen! Your sentinels lift up their voices, together they sing for joy; for in plain sight they see the return of the Lord to Zion. 9Break forth together into singing, you ruins of Jerusalem; for the Lord has comforted his people, he has redeemed Jerusalem. 10The Lord has bared his holy arm before the eyes of all the nations; and all the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of our God. Psalm: Psalm 98 1 Sing to the Lord a new song, *        for he has done marvelous things. 2 With his right hand and his holy arm *        has he won for himself the victory. 3 The Lord has made known his victory; *        his righteousness has he openly shown in the sight of the nations. 4 He remembers his mercy and faithfulness to the house of Israel, *        and all the ends of the earth have seen the victory of our God. 5 Shout with joy to the Lord, all you lands; *        lift up your voice, rejoice, and sing. 6 Sing to the Lord with the harp, *        with the harp and the voice of song. 7 With trumpets and the sound of the horn *        shout with joy before the King, the Lord. 8 Let the sea make a noise and all that is in it, *        the lands and those who dwell therein. 9 Let the rivers clap their hands, *        and let the hills ring out with joy before the Lord,        when he comes to judge the earth. 10 In righteousness shall he judge the world *        and the peoples with equity. Epistle: Hebrews 1:1-4 (5-12) 1Long ago God spoke to our ancestors in many and various ways by the prophets, 2but in these last days he has spoken to us by a Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, through whom he also created the worlds.3He is the reflection of God's glory and the exact imprint of God's very being, and he sustains all things by his powerful word. When he had made purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high, 4having become as much superior to angels as the name he has inherited is more excellent than theirs. [5For to which of the angels did God ever say, "You are my Son; today I have begotten you"? Or again, "I will be his Father, and he will be my Son"? 6And again, when he brings the firstborn into the world, he says, "Let all God's angels worship him." 7Of the angels he says, "He makes his angels winds, and his servants flames of fire."8But of the Son he says, "Your throne, O God, is forever and ever, and the righteous scepter is the scepter of your kingdom. 9You have loved righteousness and hated wickedness; therefore God, your God, has anointed you with the oil of gladness beyond your companions." 10And, "In the beginning, Lord, you founded the earth, and the heavens are the work of your hands; 11they will perish, but you remain; they will all wear out like clothing; 12like a cloak you will roll them up, and like clothing they will be changed. But you are the same, and your years will never end."] Gospel: John 1:1-14 1In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2He was in the beginning with God. 3All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being 4in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. 5The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.6There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. 7He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. 8He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. 9The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. 10He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. 11He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him. 12But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, 13who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God. 14And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father's only son, full of grace and truth.

How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of a herald, who proclaims peace and preaches good news, who proclaims salvation, who says to Zion, "Your God is king!" (Isaiah 52:7). Amen.Merriam-Webster recently tried correcting the wording of a classic Christmas hymn. But the self-proclaimed "America's Most Trusted Dictionary" ended up with eggnog on its face. In a now-deleted post to social media platform X, Merriam-Webster tried to edit the Christmas hymn "What Child Is This?" by posting "Which* Child Is This?"As an author and public speaker, I'm very interested in proper words and correct English. But the online dictionary is just wrong. The dictionary presented themselves as smug, but even more biblically incorrect. The hymn isn't asking, "Which of these Jewish children born in Bethlehem is this?" That's a question of location. The hymn is asking, "What kind of child is this?" That's a question of theology."What Child is This?" was written in 1865 by William Chatterton Dix and was later paired with the ancient tune of "Greensleeves," which dates to the 16th century. In the first verse, the hymn answers the question of "What child is this?" with this statement, "This is Christ the King, whom shepherds guard and angels sing."St. John also answers the question of "What Child is this?" by stating, "The Word became flesh and dwelled among us. We have seen his glory, the glory he has as the only-begotten from the Father, full of grace and truth" (John 1:14).Verse 1: What child is this who, laid to rest, On Mary's lap is sleeping? Whom angels greet With anthems sweet While shepherds watch are keeping? This, this is Christ the King, Whom shepherds guard and angels sing. Haste, haste to bring him laud, The babe, the Son of Mary!What child is this who is sleeping on Mary's lap? This is no ordinary baby. It is a Child that the angels fill the night sky to sing about. It is a Child that shepherds leave their flocks to run and see. Why? Because this is no ordinary baby. This is Christ the King. He is the baby, the Son of Mary ... but so much more.St. John writes about this baby. "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him everything was made, and without him not one thing was made that has been made" (John 1:1-3).This baby is no ordinary baby. He is also the God who formed a human body out of the dust of the ground. He is the God who was formed as a baby in the womb of the Virgin Mary. God breathed into the man's nostrils the breath of life and his heart started beating. He is the God whose very human baby heart started beating in the sixth week after his conception by the Holy Spirit within the womb of Mary. About 7 ½ months later, the Virgin gave birth to the Christ Child, and he took his first breaths of the air he had created.The One who created life was alive in the womb for 9 months, then was born on Christmas Day.The Word through whom everything was called into existence was now the Word made flesh.The One who had walked among the stars and would one day walk on water, would have to learn how walk with shaky, little toddler steps.The One who made the thunders clap would enjoy clapping his chubby, little baby hands in joy.The One who had set up a marvelous system where animals from antelope to zebras would be fed, would have to be fed with milk from his mother's breast.The One who would be like every child everywhere who has rolled mud in his hands to make a snake, would one day be pierced by the ancient snake of the Devil.Verse 2: Why lies he in such mean estate Where oxen now are feeding? Good Christians, fear; For sinners here The silent Word is pleading. Nails, spear shall pierce him through; The cross he'll bear for me, for you. Hail, hail the Word made flesh, The babe, the Son of Mary!If this Child is more than just the Son of Mary, why does he lie in such mean estate? Why is this baby lying in such lowly conditions, where the oxen are feeding? The Son of God came low to be among his lowly people. We are made poor and lowly by our sins. We are born in sin. We are dead in our sins. All we can do is evil – in our thoughts, in our words, and in our actions. We sin in what we do. We sin in what we fail to do. All that sin causes us to die. Dying with sin, wickedness, and unbelief, we are destined to an eternal death in hell.What Child is this? A Child that was born to save us from sin, death, and hell.The One who breathed life into the first man was now a man who needed to breathe to live.The One who started Adam's heart beating was the second Adam whose heart was beating.All that was reversed on Good Friday. The very people the Son of God came to save crucified him. St. John explains this. "The real light that shines on everyone was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not recognize him. He came to what was his own, yet his own people did not accept him" (John 1:9-11). The creatures God created did not recognize or accept the Creator living among them. So, they pierced the divinely human flesh. The rough wood of the manger foreshadowed the rougher wood of the cross.On the cross, the Word made flesh had his perfect flesh pierced with nails and thorns. The sun was darkened and the earth trembled as Jesus cried out, "It is finished." Then he closed his eyes, breathed his last, and his heart stopped beating. To make sure the Son of God was dead, his heart and lungs were pierced with a spear.For three days, the corpse of the Creator of Life lay cold and dead in a borrowed tomb. Then as the first rays of sunlight began dawning on Easter morning, the darkness and death of Friday afternoon were shattered. Everything had been quiet and still in the darkness of the tomb. One moment the tomb was filled with darkness and death. The next moment the grave was filled with life and light! Darkness cannot extinguish the Light. St. John explains, "In him was life, and the life was the light of mankind. The light is shining in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it" (John 1:4-5).He who was born, wrapped in strips of cloth, and laid in a manger arose from the slab of the tomb clothed in glory, the firstborn from the dead.Jesus took one breath and put death to death. With his first heartbeat, he defeated the Devil who imagined he had killed God's only-begotten Son.The Creator of Life died. He rose. He lives. He will never die again.When you believe in the Son of God as your Savior, you will still die because of your sins. But Jesus has removed your sins. He has endured your death. He has defeated your enemy of the Devil. Though you will die, you will live again. And you will never die again.The Lord of Light will awaken you from the darkness of death. He will open your grave on the Last Day. You will live in the light of heavenly glory. For this Child is the life and light of mankind.Verse 3: So bring him incense, gold, and myrrh; Come, peasant, king, to own him. The King of kings Salvation brings; Let loving hearts enthrone him. Raise, raise the song on high; The virgin sings her lullaby. Joy, joy, for Christ is born, The babe, the Son of Mary!How do you respond to the question, "What Child is this?" In faith, you respond by bringing him your treasures – incense, gold, and myrrh. You bring him your treasures – money, vocation, prayers, works, and worship. Praise him with hearts filled with love. Praise him with mouths filled with song. Praise him with hands and feet filled with action and motivation. As the Virgin Mary gently sings her lullaby, so we gently sing our praises to the Christ Child on this Christmas Morn.What Child is this? This Child is the One who had his birth announced to Bethlehem shepherds by angels in the sky and announced to Babylonian Magi with a miraculous star in space. This Child comes for the salvation of everyone from shepherds to Wise Men, from peasants to kings. He is the King of kings who comes into our world so we can be made heirs of his heavenly kingdom. He is the Lord of lords who enters our presence to welcome lowly sinners into his presence. He is the Word made flesh so that he can be a baby lying in a manger, then the God-Man shedding his divinely human blood as he lies on a cross, and then the resurrected Christ whose corpse is raised from the dead.Jesus – the Son of God and Mary's Son – is now flesh and divinity for all eternity. Through faith in the divine Son of God and the humble Son of Man, our Savior with flesh, we will be standing before his throne as resurrected flesh and holy soul.One commentator on Merriam-Webster's criticism of the hymn title, posted his own criticism of the online dictionary. He wrote, "I regret to inform you our modern dictionary is illiterate." The online dictionary wanted to "correct" the hymn but ended up being corrected themselves. Whoever wrote that post does not seem to understand Christianity.By the grace of God and through faith in the Child in the manger, you and I are among those who do understand Christianity. We have received Christ and been born again through water and the Word. St. John writes, "But to all who did receive him, to those who believe in his name, he gave the right to become children of God. They were born, not of blood, or of the desire of the flesh, or of a husband's will, but born of God" (John 1:12-13).The 160-year-old hymn is correct. That's why we're singing it on this Christmas Day. "What (not which) Child is this?" Amen.The Lord lays bare his holy arm before the eyes of all the nations, and all the ends of the earth will see the salvation from our God. (Isaiah 52:10). Amen.View this sermon (with video and/or audio recording) on our website: https://www.casperwels.com/sermons/what-not-which-child-is-this/

#top .av-special-heading.av-gs9o3p-5d37626f51f1facc63118464eef943e3{ padding-bottom:10px; } body .av-special-heading.av-gs9o3p-5d37626f51f1facc63118464eef943e3 .av-special-heading-tag .heading-char{ font-size:25px; } .av-special-heading.av-gs9o3p-5d37626f51f1facc63118464eef943e3 .av-subheading{ font-size:15px; } Through My Bible Yr 02 – December 24Psalm 146 LISTEN HERE Through My Bible – December 24 Psalm 146 (EHV) https://wels2.blob.core.windows.net/tmb-ehv/02-1224db.mp3 See series: Through My Bible Psalm 146 Praise Him for Protection Praise for Protection 1 Praise the Lord. [1] A Lifetime of Praise Praise the Lord, O my soul. 2 I will praise the Lord as long as I live. I will make music to my God as long as I exist. No Help in Humans 3 Do not trust in human helpers, [2] in a mortal man who cannot save you. 4 His spirit departs. He returns to the ground he came from. On that day, his plans have perished. Help in the Lord 5 Blessed is everyone who has the God of Jacob as his help. His hope is in the Lord his God, 6     the Maker of heaven and earth,     the sea, and everything which is in them. He is the one who stays faithful forever. 7 He obtains justice for the oppressed. He gives food to the hungry. The Lord releases prisoners. 8 The Lord opens the eyes of the blind. The Lord lifts up those who are bowed down. The Lord loves the righteous. 9 The Lord watches over the aliens. The fatherless and the widow he sustains, but he turns aside the way of the wicked. An Eternity for Praise 10 The Lord reigns forever. Your God, O Zion, rules for all generations. Praise the Lord. Footnotes Psalm 146:1 Hebrew hallelu Yah Psalm 146:3 The Hebrew word refers to rich people who have the willingness and the means to help the needy. #top .hr.hr-invisible.av-aocsdx-89cb4ca21532423cf697fc393b6fcee0{ height:10px; } The Holy Bible, Evangelical Heritage Version®, EHV®, © 2019 Wartburg Project, Inc. All rights reserved. #top .hr.hr-invisible.av-4vzadh-3f04b370105df1fd314a2a9d83e55b26{ height:50px; } Share this entryShare on FacebookShare on LinkedInShare by MailLink to FlickrLink to InstagramLink to Vimeo

Episode Title: The Power of Trying Something New*The Purposefully Fit Podcast is designed to inspire, motivate, and encourage you to pursue YOUR God-given passion purposefully.Visit Coach NikE's Website: IAmNikE.com

Episode Title: Motivation Beyond What You Feel*The Purposefully Fit Podcast is designed to inspire, motivate, and encourage you to pursue YOUR God-given passion purposefully.Visit Coach NikE's Website: IAmNikE.com

https://wels2.blob.core.windows.net/family-devotions/20251215fam.mp3 Listen to Devotion Read: Isaiah 35:1-10 The wilderness and the desert will be glad. The wasteland of the Arabah will rejoice and blossom like a crocus. It will bloom lavishly, and there will be great joy and singing. The glory of Lebanon will be given to it. It will be excellent like Carmel and Sharon. They will see the glory of the LORD, the majesty of our God. Strengthen the weak hands, and make the shaky knees steady. Do not be afraid. Look! Your God will come with vengeance. With God's own retribution, he will come and save you. Then the eyes of the blind will be opened, and the ears of the deaf will be unplugged. The crippled will leap like a deer, and the tongue of the mute will sing for joy. Waters will flow in the wilderness, and streams in the wasteland. The burning sand will become a pool, and in the thirsty ground there will be springs of water. There will be grass, reeds, and rushes where the haunts of jackals once lay. A highway will be there, a road that will be called the holy way. The impure will not walk there. It will be reserved for those who walk in that holy way. Isaiah 35:1-8 (EHV) The Great Heart Superbloom In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Have you ever seen a place that looks super green, like a giant forest? The Smoky Mountains are like that—so many greens it looks like someone used every crayon in the box! If you go to a place like Zion National Park, you'll see tons of browns and tans—still beautiful, just different. But then there's Death Valley. Most of the time, it looks dry, empty, and kind of plain. It's like the world's biggest “nothing-to-see-here” desert. But something amazing happens once in a while. When it finally gets enough rain, everything changes. Suddenly, colorful flowers pop up everywhere—yellow, orange, purple, pink—like the desert got a giant surprise party! This is called a “superbloom.” Sometimes our lives feel a little like that dry desert. We might feel sad, lonely, or worried—like our hearts don't have much color in them. But Jesus changes everything. The Bible says he's our “living water,” which means he refreshes our hearts just like rain refreshes a desert. In the book of Isaiah, it talks about things Jesus did. He made blind people see, deaf people hear, and people who couldn't walk get up and move again! But Jesus didn't just fix bodies. He made a way for us to get to heaven—a special road for God's people called the “holy way.” We weren't always on that road. We were stuck in our “sin desert,” with no way out. But God didn't leave us there. The Holy Spirit used God's Word and baptism to plant faith inside us—like tiny seeds that bloom into beautiful flowers. Because of Jesus, we can walk with God now—and someday we'll go to heaven, a place where sadness runs away and joy and happiness chase us down! May God help our faith grow and bloom forever. Amen. Prayer: Jesus, thank you for being our living water. You make our hearts come alive—like a big, beautiful superbloom. Help us remember that all our joy and faith come from you. Thank you for saving us and redeeming us. Amen. The questions below are to help families discuss this devotion. The questions are divided by age group as suggestions, but anyone could reflect on any of the questions as they desire. Questions for Younger Children Who gets to go to heaven? (Help kids focus on: “Everyone who believes in Jesus as their Savior.”) Who helps us believe in Jesus by working through God's Word and baptism? (The Holy Spirit!) Questions for Elementary Age Children The Bible says there will be no more crying or sadness in heaven. What happy things will “overtake us”? (Talk about joy, laughter, peace, excitement.) As believers in Jesus, why don't we need to be scared about the future? (Jesus is with us, loves us, and already knows the way.) Questions for Middle School and Above How is having faith in Jesus like a “superbloom”? (Faith makes our hearts full of color, life, and joy—just like rain brings flowers to the desert.) What does it mean to be “ransomed” by the Lord? (Jesus paid the price for our sins so we could belong to him forever.) Download Family Devotions Family Devotions are brought to you by WELS Discipleship. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License. All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide.

Your God has never lost a battle that he has been invited into and asked to lead.

This reflection on Advent invites us into the tension between promise and fulfillment, between waiting and receiving. Drawing from Isaiah 35, we encounter a breathtaking vision of transformation: deserts bursting into bloom, the lame leaping like deer, the mute shouting for joy, and streams appearing in parched wastelands. These aren't mere poetic flourishesthey're declarations of what God does when He enters our brokenness. The message acknowledges the real pain many of us feel during this season, when 'the most wonderful time of the year' can feel like the loneliest or most difficult. Like driving through a blinding snowstorm where we can barely see the road ahead, our suffering can obscure God's presence and promises. Yet the core proclamation remains unwavering: Your God will come. He has come in Jesus, and He will come again. This isn't about our ability to reach God or fix ourselvesit's about God reaching us in the midst of our deserts. When John the Baptist, that great prophet, found himself imprisoned and doubting, Jesus pointed him back to Isaiah's promises being fulfilled: the blind see, the lame walk, the dead are raised. No life is too far gone, no desert too parched, no person beyond God's transforming reach. We're invited simply to receive this good news, to let it wash over us without feeling we must immediately do something with it. The promise is that joy will overtake usnot manufactured happiness, but genuine joy that surprises us in unexpected moments, like tears at SeaWorld watching killer whales swim peacefully with humans, glimpsing the peaceable kingdom. Sorrow and sighing will flee away. This is our hope in Advent: God doesn't abandon us in our rebellion or pain, but comes to us, transforms us, and leads us home. Isaiah describes God transforming deserts into blooming gardens and bringing healing to the broken. What 'desert places' in your own life or community are you longing to see God transform? John the Baptist, despite being called the greatest born of women, still had doubts while in prison. How does knowing that even great people of faith experience doubt affect your own spiritual journey? The sermon emphasizes that 'your God will come' rather than us having to reach God. How does this shift from self-effort to divine initiative change the way you approach your relationship with God? When we're in painful circumstances, we can be 'blinded' like driving in a snowstorm, unable to see the road ahead. How do you hold onto hope when you cannot see God's path clearly? Isaiah promises that 'gladness and joy will overtake them'joy as something that happens to us rather than something we manufacture. When have you experienced this kind of unexpected, overwhelming joy? The passage states there is 'no life too far gone' for God to reach. Who in your life seems beyond hope, and how might this message challenge your perspective about them? Advent is described as a season of longing and expectation, acknowledging the world isn't yet made right. How can embracing this 'in-between time' be spiritually valuable rather than simply waiting for resolution? Jesus pointed to the fulfillment of Isaiah's prophecies as evidence of his identity as Messiah. What present-day evidence of God's work helps strengthen your faith when doubts arise? The sermon concludes by saying this message requires no action steps, just hearing good news. Why is it sometimes difficult to simply receive grace without feeling we must do something in response? Isaiah promises that 'sorrow and sighing will flee away' when God comes. How does this future hope affect the way you navigate present suffering and grief?

Praise the Lord, O my soul. I will praise the Lord as long as I live (Psalm 146:1-2). Amen.Racine – in southeastern Wisconsin, where we recently moved from – has already received 13 inches of snow, causing travel issues, school closures, and buried cars. Then Racine warmed up and had rain. Now they're experiencing single digit, and even negative, temperatures to freeze all that rain and melted snow to create even more dangerous conditions.That's way east of us. How about north and south of us? Up to 2 feet of snow is expected in Yellowstone National Park this week. The Snowy Range has already received 75 inches of snow in 40 hours!Yet here we are in Casper, enjoying 50-degree weather for several days in a row. We've also had several days of 50 plus mph winds. Because everything is a contest, I may have rubbed it in to my friends back in Racine about our wonderful weather. I did admit that it was a tad breezy, though.Wyoming meteorologist, Don Day commented on this week's wind, "If it's windy, it's not going to be terribly cold. It's rare to have 50-degree days and no wind in winter. When it gets really cold, it doesn't get really windy. It's when we're in between cold snaps and warmups, that we have the worst winds." Day calls these "50-50 days." "When it's 50 degrees, you'll have 50 mph winds," he said. "If you don't like the wind, you better like the cold. That's just what it is to live in Wyoming." I don't know if you agree with him or not. He's the Wyoming meteorologist. You're the ones who've been living in Wyoming.Either way, you must admit this is pretty great weather for winter in the desert.The Sahara Desert is an "absolute desert" where almost no rain falls. Isaiah's original audience lived in a "tame desert" like here in Casper. In Israel, the rain is confined to the spring – March, April, and May. It's similar here, plus the snow in the winter. The Israelites lived in a physical desert.The Israelites also lived in a spiritual desert. The ten northern tribes of Israel were on the brink of destruction. The Assyrian army was about to overrun them. The people in the northern tribes would be carried into captivity to disappear from history.The two remaining southern tribes in Judah would be spared … but not for long. In a few generations, the Babylonians would move south to carry them into captivity in Babylon.Things looked bleak for Isaiah's audience. Things looked hopeless. Things looked desperate in the desert. The cities would be ghost towns. Their fields would be wastelands. Their people would be gone.God sent Isaiah as Israel's prophet because he wanted his people to understand why this was happening. It wasn't because God didn't love them. He did. He refused to watch them wallow in the filth of their sin any longer. He needed to show them how much they needed him. They needed a taste of his earthly discipline to repent and return. If they continued down their own way, they would experience God's eternal wrath.Do you feel like you're living in the desert? Not the physical desert of Casper or Wyoming. But the spiritual desert where your life appears bleak, dry, and dreary? Where it feels like God doesn't love you? If that's how you feel, I ask you, are you living in unrepentant sin? Are you confessing some sins while holding onto other sins? Are you going through the motions of Christianity while being passionate about other pursuits? Are you confessing one thing on Sunday morning but living out other things the rest of the week?Could your bleak, dry, and dreary life be brought on by yourself? God does not bless sin. He doesn't bless anything that pulls you away from his presence. Or could your spiritual desert be a result of God disciplining you like he did with Isaiah's audience?Like a good father, the Lord disciplines his children for their good. Jesus said, "I rebuke and discipline those whom I love. So take this seriously and repent" (Revelation 3:19). God uses discipline to lead us back to him. He lets us feel the pain of past mistakes. He permits us to stand in place surrounded by our shattered dreams and broken relationships. He lets us feel the misery of our own making. God does this to gain our attention. When we're lost in the desert, there's only one road that leads us to safety.Isaiah speaks of this road. "A highway will be there, a road that will be called the holy way. The impure will not walk there. It will be reserved for those who walk in that holy way. Wicked fools will not wander onto it. No lion will be there, nor will any ferocious animal go up on it. They will not be found there, but only the redeemed will walk there. Then those ransomed by the Lord will return. They will enter Zion with a joyful shout, and everlasting joy will crown their heads. Happiness and joy will overtake them, and sorrow and sighing will flee away" (Isaiah 35:8-10).Earlier this week, Austin Dirks was out hiking by himself in Arches National Park when he broke through what appeared to be solid ground. He got stuck at a 45-degree angle in quicksand. Thankfully, because Dirk is an experienced desert hiker, he had his satellite phone handy. He was rescued in the desert after 2 hours.Those in Isaiah's audience – and we in this audience – are stuck in something far worse than quicksand in the desert. We are stuck in a spiritual wasteland. Jesus our coming Messiah arrives to rescue us. He comes on the holy way that leads to Zion – the New Jerusalem – of the Christian Church. Our Messiah comes to us in Word and Sacraments to rescue, redeem, and lead us out of trouble into the safety of his Christian Church.Christ's way is a safe highway in the desert. There aren't any ferocious beasts on his highway. No lions in Israel. No coyotes, bears or mountain lions here. There won't be any wicked people or foolish people on this road. Unlike the semi drivers blown over on I-80 in 105 mph winds, clogging up traffic and putting everyone in danger. Everyone on Christ's highway knows where they're going. This road is reserved only for those who "walk in that holy way."This highway is only for the redeemed and ransomed. Those who were stuck and have been rescued. Those who were lost and have been found. Those who were trapped by the Devil and have been redeemed. Our Messiah traveled from the paradise of heaven into the desert of this world to rescue us. He brings us back on his highway.Brings us back to where? Christ rescues us from a bleak, dry, dreary desert to bring us into another desert. This is a very different desert. This is a desert that will be glad."The wilderness and the desert will be glad. The wasteland of the Arabah will rejoice and blossom like a crocus. It will bloom lavishly, and there will be great joy and singing. The glory of Lebanon will be given to it. It will be excellent like Carmel and Sharon. They will see the glory of the Lord, the majesty of our God. … Then the eyes of the blind will be opened, and the ears of the deaf will be unplugged. The crippled will leap like a deer, and the tongue of the mute will sing for joy. Waters will flow in the wilderness, and streams in the wasteland. The burning sand will become a pool, and in the thirsty ground there will be springs of water. There will be grass, reeds, and rushes where the haunts of jackals once lay" (Isaiah 35:1-2, 5-7).Christ's ministry as the Messiah is prophesied in these verses. What a dramatic reversal this will be! The wilderness will be watered. The wasteland will blossom. The desert will be a lush green place. The blind, deaf, lame, and mute within the desert will also be changed. The blind will see. The deaf will hear. The mute will speak. The lame will leap. I believe even the color blind will see colors. Like Jesus told John's disciples, these are the signs that point to him as the Messiah (Matthew 11:2-6).But this isn't just a physical transformation that will take place. Jesus doesn't promise your surgically repaired knees, old bones, sore muscles, hearing-aided ears, and glasses-improved eyes will be returned to new right now. Isaiah is prophesying an even more miraculous transformation that will take place within the heart of every traveler on his holy desert highway.With your eyes, you look upon your Savior on the altar. With your ears you hear the voice of Jesus calling you in Scripture, sermons, and Bible studies. With your tongue you pray, praise, and give thanks. With your arms and legs, you fulfill your vocations as Christian parents and children, citizens and students.Isaiah encourages, "Strengthen the weak hands, and make the shaky knees steady. Tell those who have a fearful heart: Be strong. Do not be afraid. Look! Your God will come with vengeance. With God's own retribution, he will come and save you" (Isaiah 35:3-4).The author of Hebrews quotes these verses, "Therefore strengthen your weak hands and feeble knees, and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be dislocated but rather healed" (Heb 12:12-13). The author's readers were being tempted to give up their faith because of persecution. He quotes Isaiah because there's an important message for those who are afraid of the Church's enemies.That important message is that our Messiah has come to rescue us. Jesus is no weak God or soft Man. He is the divine God-Man who flipped over tables and created enemies wherever he went. This is the Christ who comes with vengeance and divine retribution. Because we are followers of Christ, his enemies are our enemies. God wants us to stand strong in front of these enemies because these enemies won't be able to stand in front of him. God may use us as the arm of his vengeance. Get lean and in shape to be God's retribution. Strengthen your hands and knees so you are prepared to be God's vengeance when he calls you into battle. When we are strong in our hands and knees, we say with our Messiah, "They surrounded me, yes they surrounded me, but in the name of the Lord I cut them off" (Psalm 118:11).God's vengeance is the just punishment for sin. When God brings his judgment upon his enemies, that will also mean salvation for God's people. St. Paul writes, "Certainly, it is right for God to repay trouble to those who trouble you, and to give relief to you, who are troubled along with us. When the Lord Jesus is revealed from heaven with his powerful angels, he will exercise vengeance in flaming fire on those who do not know God and on those who do not obey the gospel of our Lord Jesus. Such people will receive a just penalty: eternal destruction away from the presence of the Lord and from his glorious strength, on that day when he comes to be glorified among his saints, and to be marveled at among all those who have believed, because our testimony to you was believed" (2 Thessalonians 1:6-10).All this will happen in the desert. The landscape parched with idolatry and paganism will become well-watered and green with the worldwide preaching of Christ's gospel. All this happens with the imminent arrival of the Messiah.Fellow desert inhabitants, our situation in life may not change. After all, we are still living in the desert. Thank God that – at least for now – our desert weather is better than everyone else's weather. Our physical desert of Casper and Wyoming is beautiful. By the grace of God, with the arrival of Christ our Messiah, he makes our spiritual desert beautiful, too. It's a desert that will be glad. Amen.The Lord reigns forever. Your God, O Zion, rules for all generations. Praise the Lord (Psalm 146:10). Amen.View this sermon (with video and/or audio recording) on our website: https://www.casperwels.com/sermons/the-desert-will-be-glad/

Watch the Devotion Based on Isaiah 35:3-4 Do Not Be Afraid I'm certain you've heard it at least once the past couple of weeks and will continue to hear it until December 25th if not until January 1st—that old-time classic, “It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year.” But I know that's not always true. The holiday season can lend itself to more tension in the family. Tighter budgets as families plan for Christmas gifting and Christmas travel create financial strain. There can be stress from family gatherings. Increased alcohol consumption can create a volatile environment. That's when military families see a rise in domestic abuse. Unfortunately for some, or maybe for you or someone you know, there could be emotional manipulation, physical or sexual violence, financial deprivation, intimidation, or deliberate isolation preventing you from gathering with family, cutting off emotional support. If this is you, I want you to know a few things. First, you do not deserve to be subjected to abuse. It is not okay. Second, this world is a broken place, filled with people who are so broken by sin they do awful things to each other. I am sorry that this is happening to you. You may feel powerless and alone, but you are not. You do not have to be afraid. If you are a victim of abuse, your knees may be weak and wobbly, afraid to walk into a pastor's or chaplain's office. Your hands may tremble, afraid to pick up the phone and call, with a heart that is so afraid you don't know what to do or what to think. Listen to the words of your Savior God through the prophet Isaiah: “Strengthen the feeble hands, steady the knees that give way; say to those with fearful hearts, ‘Be strong, do not fear; your God will come, he will come with vengeance; with divine retribution he will come to save you' ” (Isaiah 35:3-4). Please do not misunderstand God when he says to you, “Be strong, do not fear.” He is not saying, “Chin up! Just be stronger, pray harder, believe more, and you'll get through this!” When God makes this statement, “Be strong, do not fear,” he gives you the power to do just that. Your God gives power by bringing a message of hope and life for you. Your God is the God who saves the broken, and that salvation is yours today, tomorrow, and forever. Through Jesus you are right with God. You have an identity in him. You are his child. You are loved by him. And I don't know why this is happening to you right now, but he knows and he has done something about it. He redeemed all things, including you and your situation, when he became the victim of abuse on the cross. He also wants you to know that he is the God of justice. His justice will come. God will hold abusers accountable. This promise from God is meant to strengthen your feeble hands and weak knees, to give confidence to your fearful heart to take the next steps. He will be your power when you feel you have no power to move forward. He will be your presence when you feel alone. While you wait for his justice, it does not mean staying in an unsafe situation. God provides earthly help and shelter through the people he places around you—pastors, chaplains, commanders, police officers, family advocates, judges, lawyers, family members, and friends. Be strong. Do not be afraid. Your God comes to save you. Prayer: Lord Jesus, you know brokenness. You know abuse. You were once broken and abused. You endured it all by your death on the cross and were raised again to give us the hope of life in that place of perfect peace. Empower victims of abuse to get help. Help us to become faithful advocates and safe spaces for victims of abuse. Open our ears to listen, our arms to hold, our mouths to speak your words of comfort and love. In your name we ask it. Amen. Written and recorded by Rev. Paul Horn, WELS National Civilian Chaplain to the Military, San Diego, California. All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. Note: Scripture reading footnotes are clickable only in the web version.

Episode Title: You Are More Than Your Title*The Purposefully Fit Podcast is designed to inspire, motivate, and encourage you to pursue YOUR God-given passion purposefully.Visit Coach NikE's Website: IAmNikE.com

Isaiah 41:10 So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am YOUR GOD. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Isaiah 52:1-12 Awake, awake, put on your strength, O Zion; put on your beautiful garments, O Jerusalem, the holy city; for there shall no more come into you the uncircumcised and the unclean. 2 Shake yourself from the dust and arise; be seated, O Jerusalem; loose the bonds from your neck, O captive daughter of Zion. 3 For thus says the Lord: “You were sold for nothing, and you shall be redeemed with-out money.” 4 For thus says the Lord God: “My people went down at the first into Egypt to sojourn there, and the Assyrian oppressed them for nothing. 5 Now therefore what have I here,” declares the Lord, “seeing that my people are taken away for noth-ing? Their rulers wail,” declares the Lord, “and continually all the day my name is des-pised. 6 Therefore my people shall know my name. Therefore in that day they shall know that it is I who speak; here I am.” 7 How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good news, who publishes peace, who brings good news of happiness, who publishes salvation, who says to Zion, “Your God reigns.” 8 The voice of your watchmen—they lift up their voice; together they sing for joy; for eye to eye they see the return of the Lord to Zion. 9 Break forth together into singing, you waste places of Jerusalem, for the Lord has comforted his people; he has redeemed Jerusalem. 10 The Lord has bared his holy arm before the eyes of all the nations, and all the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of our God. 11 Depart, depart, go out from there; touch no unclean thing; go out from the midst of her; purify yourselves, you who bear the vessels of the Lord. 12 For you shall not go out in haste, and you shall not go in flight, for the Lord will go before you, and the God of Israel will be your rear guard.

John 1:14, Luke 2December 7th, 2025John 1:1-5 (NIV) In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was with God in the beginning. 3 Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. 4 In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. 5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. Jesus physical birth wasn't His beginning, it was His earthly arrival.John 1:14 (NIV) 14 The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.The God of the Bible is an in person, personal God – this is a reason for JOY. “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” means “God keep you joyful and at peace!” “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” God rest ye merry gentlemen let nothing you dismay Remember Christ our Savior was born on Christmas Day To save us all from Satan's pow'r when we were gone astray Oh tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy, oh tidings of comfort and joy.In Bethlehem, in Israel this blessed Babe was born And laid within a manger upon this blessed morn The which His Mother Mary did nothing take in scorn[Translation: Mary took no issue in the circumstances and setting of the birth of her first born – the Messiah. According to the song writer – Mary “got it.”] Oh tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy, oh tidings of comfort and joy.Fear not then, said the Angel let nothing you affright This day is born a Savior of a pure Virgin bright To free all those who trust in Him from Satan's pow'r and might Oh tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy, oh tidings of comfort and joyThe Theology of JoyThe Birth of Jesus broke the power of Satan and frees those who trust in His deity and His delivering power. “tiding” = euangelizō “good news” Isaiah 52:7/Romans 10:15 How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation, who say to Zion, “Your God reigns!” The proclamation of Salvation through Jesus is a Joyful Tiding! Luke 2:1-18 (NIV) In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. 2 (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.) 3 And everyone went to their own town to register. 4 So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. 5 He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. 6 While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, 7 and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.8 And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. 9 An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. 10 But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news [tidings] that will cause great joy for all the people. 11 Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. 12 This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”13 Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, 14 “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.” 15 When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let's go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.” 16 So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. 17 When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, 18 and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. 3 Contextual Observations 1. Geo-Political: Powers and Politics are no barrier for God plan of salvation. 2. Cultural: Even in Jesus' birth He was bringing about redemption.3. Social: With Jesus, everyone's status changes.Collectively, these 3 contexts make one bold statement. Jesus is the one true King. His presence changes everyone and everything. 10 But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news [tidings] that will cause great joy for all the people. 11 Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. Savior = Deliverer. Jesus is All Powerful. Messiah = Long Awaited Promised One. Jesus is All Trustworthy. Lord = Divine nature and absolute authority. Jesus is Above All. Who is this news for? All people. No exclusions. “Let's go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.” 16 So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. 17 When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, 18 and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. 19 But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. 20 The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told. Appropriate Responses to the Joy Message of Jesus.Movement. Testimony. No more status quo living. Jesus didn't just come to save the world, He came to save me, too.Trust in Jesus is the key that unlocks the door to joy. You can hold onto Joy (Jesus) while navigating hard. Jesus changes everything even when nothing in the moment has changed. The Theology of Joy The Birth of Jesus broke the power of Satan and frees those who trust in His deity and His delivering power.

Saturday is review day on The Daily Promise. Every Saturday, we review the promises of the week so we can allow them to go deep into our hearts and lives. Here are the promises we covered this week. Genesis 50:20 – You Meant it for Evil, but God Used it for Good. 2 Timothy 2:13 – God is Faithful When We are Not. Genesis 1:1 – Your God is the Creator. Romans 5:1-2 – Jesus Brings Help in Every Temptation. 1 Samuel 7:12 – The Lord Has Helped You Thus Far.  

Praise Series #7 Great Is The Lord, and Greatly to Be Praised Psalm 145:1-3 “I will extol you, my God and King, and bless your name forever and ever.  Every day I will bless you, and praise your name forever and ever.   Great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised; his greatness is unsearchable.”This is a great verse.  I think if you know me at all by now, you know that I love to praise the Lord.  I think He is truly amazing, and I think it is so important to tell Him that.  Our Lord does so much for us every day.  He gives us so much mercy and so much grace.  He forgives us again and again, even though we don't really deserve it.  His love is unconditional and unending.  How many people can you say that about?  He performs miracles for us, just to make us happy.  He doesn't need anything from us in return.  Again, how many people can you say that about?  How many people do you know who will do things for you without expecting anything in return?  I hope you do know at least one, because there are people out there like that, but they are certainly not the majority.  This is why I love praising the Lord so much.  There is little that we can give God to repay Him.  There is nothing He needs from us.  He is complete and totally perfect just as He is.  Even though He doesn't need anything from us, He does like it when we praise Him.  Praising the Lord is something that costs us nothing but our time and is easy to do.  Once you start to incorporate praising the Lord into your daily routine, you will wonder why you weren't always doing it.  It feels so good to say thank you to God for all that He does for us.  The more you praise Him, the more you realize how amazing He truly is.  When I attended a Life in the Spirit seminar, they gave us praise sheets so that we could participate in the praise part of the meetings.  You do not need a praise sheet to praise the Lord.  There is no right or wrong way to do it.  However, if you are new to praising the Lord, it may feel intimidating, especially if you are in a room full of people who have been doing it for a long time.  If this is your first time intentionally praising the Lord, it may feel strange.  That's normal, just keep doing it.  If you are like me and most people who have never really spent time praising the Lord before, you are not really sure what to say.  I understand this.  I had no idea what to say at first, and even though I have been doing it at least every Thursday for the last 3 years or so, I still use the praise sheet.  I like the things that are written on the sheet.  I do praise on my own, with my own words at home sometimes, but I really like using the sheet.  Here are some of the things that are on the praise sheet I was given.Praise you our Lord and our God, Praise your holy name, we rejoice in your presence oh Lord, Jesus you are my strength, Jesus you are my rock, Jesus you are my fortress, Jesus you are my deliver, Jesus you are my refuge, Jesus you are my shield, Jesus you are my strong hold, Jesus you are my salvation, Jesus you are my healer, Jesus you are my teacher, Jesus you are my savior, Jesus you are my advocate, Jesus you are the great amen, Jesus you are the author of life, Jesus you are the beginning in the end, Jesus you are the blessed and only ruler, Jesus you are the breath of life, Jesus you are the captain of salvation, Jesus you are the good shepherd, Jesus you are the healer, Jesus you are hope and glory.You are the Messiah, you are the fountain of life, you are the vine keep us attached to you Lord, you are the holy one of Israel, you are the Christ, the power and wisdom of God, you are the Lamb who was slain you are the word made flesh, you are the holy one who sits up on the throne, you are the living word, you are Emmanuel, you are the son of God, you set my feet are dancing, you are truth, you are loved, you are power, you are wisdom, you are the faithful one, you are our redeemer, you are the great “I AM”  The list goes on, but those are several examples of the kinds of things you would find on a praise sheet.  There is a great little book called “Opening The Gates of Praise” by Father John M. Capuci.  The reason I say little book is because it is just 38 pages long.  However, in this book, Father talks about five things. First, why do we praise?  Second, what are our obstacles to praise?  Third, ways to praise.  Fourth, how to develop a spirit of praise.  Fifth, He takes you through the steps so you can write out your own string of praise.  This was a great book for explaining praise.  In this book, Father has 10 great reasons why we should praise God.  I am not going to read them all to you, as it is not my book; it is his.  I will list a few that you may find surprising.  One that I didn't know is that praise breaks down the walls that are barriers to God's grace.  Father Capuci says, “When we praise, the walls of arrogance, self-hatred, and low self-esteem begin to be broken down.  God begins the healing process in us as we go before Him, praising His most awesome power!” Another reason we should praise God is that praise allows us the freedom to be ourselves before God and the community.  Father Capuci says, “When we can praise God for an extended time, on a regular basis, areas of being overly concerned with how people will look at us begin to be healed.  When a person can praise God out loud, in the midst of the community, we can be assured that healing of self-image is taking place.  The last reason I will touch on is that praise breaks down negativity in our lives.  Who couldn't use a little less of that right now?  There is so much negativity everywhere we look.  If praise can break that down, I say it is worth it.  Father Capuci says, “There is no such thing as a negative personality.  Instead, many people struggle with the temptation to fall into negativity.  What happens is this: it becomes increasingly difficult to see God's goodness and action in our lives or even around us.  So, we begin to develop a spirit of negativity.  Praise binds the spirit of negativity, setting us free from its hold.  The more we praise the Lord, the more we will see the effects of negativity lose its grasp, and we will move toward the power of the Holy Spirit.  I don't want to relay everything in this book to you, as it is not my information to share.  I would highly recommend you get a copy of this book if you can.  If you would like a copy, I will put the info from the back of the book in the show notes.  I do want to go over quickly the four different types of praise that Father Capuci talks about.  First, praise God for being God. An example of this type of praise would be the phrases I mentioned earlier from the praise sheets.  The second type of praise is praise God for your history, for example, your faith, family, being born, your faculties, and your life.  The third type of praise is praise God for your present, your here and now.  What is God doing right now in your life?  Did He help you find your keys? Did you give yourself a nice sunny day, a green light? What can you praise God for right now in the moment? The fourth type of praise is praise, God for what the Spirit is doing right now, for instance, healing a headache, a sore shoulder, an outpouring of the Spirit, receiving new gifts, or perhaps healing your self-image.  Is there anything the Spirit is doing within you right now that you can praise?  Father Capuci talks about how if you string these four categories together, then you have a “string of praise.”  He encourages us each to sit down and write down at least five things in each category and then start to use this list to praise God more often.  If you would like the praise sheets that I was talking about earlier, just send me an email at catherine@findingtruenorthcoaching.com, and I will send you a copy.  I would be remiss if I didn't also mention my favorite way to praise, which is to listen to praise and worship music.  If you are listening to this podcast and you have a smartphone or a computer, I recommend you go to an app or website called Spotify.  It is free to make an account, and you can listen to all the Christian music you want for free.  It is a great way to try out a bunch of different artists and see who you like.  You could do the same thing on YouTube if you like that better.  Listening to praise music can lift your spirits instantly.  There is a playlist on Spotify that was created by my mentor called “Big Life Mornings,” and it is a great compilation of upbeat Christian songs.  I have discovered so many new great songs.  Maybe give it a try?  What have you got to lose?Dear Heavenly Father, please bless all those listening to this episode today.  Lord, we love you, and we want to praise you. Please show us how.  Please put this upon our hearts, and if we are not already praising you, help us to start.  Help us start.  Give us the courage to praise you silently and also out loud.  Help us to push through the feelings of awkwardness until we get comfortable praising you, Lord.  You are so amazing, you do so much for us and expect nothing in return.  Help us to do this for you with no expectations.  Lord, we ask all of this in accordance with your will and in Jesus' holy name, Amen!Thank you so much for joining me on this journey to walk boldly with Jesus.  Thank you for continuing to show up and listen.  Thank you to all of you who have given me your feedback. I really appreciate it.  If you are able to go to the rate this podcast, that would be great to help others see it more.  Also, if you have a friend or loved one you could share it with, that would be great too.  I look forward to spending time with you again tomorrow. Have a blessed day!Today's Word from the Lord was received in July 2025 by a member of my Catholic Charismatic Prayer Group. If you have any questions about the prayer group, these words, or how to join us for a meeting, please email CatholicCharismaticPrayerGroup@gmail.com. Today's Word from the Lord is, “Enter my children, enter into the secret place. The secret place of the Most High is where you hear My heartbeat under My feathers. Be still and know that I am God, I am Your God.” www.findingtruenorthcoaching.comCLICK HERE TO DONATECLICK HERE to sign up for Mentoring CLICK HERE to sign up for Daily "Word from the Lord" emailsCLICK HERE to sign up for my newsletter & receive a free audio training about inviting Jesus into your daily lifeCLICK HERE to buy my book Total Trust in God's Safe Embrace

Isaiah 52:7 NIVHow beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring GOOD NEWS, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation, who say to Zion, “Your God reigns!”

Isaiah 52:7 NIVHow beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring GOOD NEWS, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation, who say to Zion, “Your God reigns!”

Isaiah 52:7 NIVHow beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring GOOD NEWS, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation, who say to Zion, “Your God reigns!”

To receive forgiveness you must truly own the magnitude of your sin and the greater magnitude of God's grace.True versus False GuiltFalse RepentanceBlame-ShiftingSelf-PitySelf-PunishmentTrue RepentanceProverbs 28:13—“Whoever conceals his transgressions will not prosper, but he who confesses and forsakes them will obtain mercy.”Confessing & Accepting ConsequencesPsalm 51:3-5—“For I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me. Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight, so that you may be justified in your words and blameless in your judgment. Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me.”Turning from the SinLuke 3:8—“Bear fruit in keeping with repentance.”Receiving ForgivenessPsalm 103:1-5—“Bless the LORD, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name! Bless the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits, who forgives all your iniquity, who heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit, who crowns you with steadfast love and mercy, who satisfies you with good so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's.”Your God is Bigger than you Think1 John 3:20—“Whenever our heart condemns us, God is greater than our heart, and he knows everything.”

EXT. CONCERT. DAY SUNNI BLU converses with CHARLES over a musical break STAGE LEFT of the MAINSTAGE. SUNNI BLU Thems the two prettiest girls right there. CHARLES yeah . ok. SUNNI BLU Grab em up. CHARLES What? SUNNI BLU Snatch em up. CHARLES Do you mean. SUNNI BLU Micheal Jackson style munich on that bitch. CHARLES What—? SUNNI BLU Them bitchez. CHARLES Are you saying—? SUNNI BLU They wont mind. CHARLES Uhhhh… SUNNI BLU I promise. watch . BOUNCER SUNNI's bodyguard BOUNCER crosses to center stage. SUNNI whispers into BOUNCER'S ear and he nods once and smirks; he then walks out into the crowd and picks up the two girls SUNNI aforementioned, tossing each of them over his shoulders, planting them on stage next to SUNNI; they scream and cry hysterically. SUNNI nods and smiles in self admiration and throws BOUNCER and CHARLES a thumbs up; CHARLES shakes his head slowly in disapproval, the GIRLS scream and cry hysterically; SUNNI grins and carries on about the show. CUT IMMEDIATELY TO: SUNNI BLU YO! I got mad lawsuits. MORGAN Plural? SUNNI BLU Like multiple! MORGAN well what were you expecting, sunni? Its 202#--? SUNNI BLU But michael is timeless! MORGAN And youre not michael jackson! SUNNI BLU You're right! I sold more records already than him! MORGAN ugh! PUBLICIST *does* {Enter The Multiverse} Hi, i'm Russell Brand. No, get out. I'm sorry,I— ? Get out, get out! Are we trading kings for whistle! Sacred things and torturers? Lill bitz I started talking to this guy from tinder Then I quickly realized he only texted me at like 3 in the morning, like “come over” So I started texting him really weird shit— Like really weird. Like, I would make sure before I sent it, I would re-read it and be like “Ya, that's weird.” “That's really weird.” Every time, just read it to myself and be like “Ya that's giving “you're psycho” Right off the bat. Kate Winslet is so good at late night. She talks mad slow and answers every open ended question with a paragraph of thoughtless nonsense— finally, at the end of the paragraph, she answers the question in yes or no fashion; in this sense, you've completely forgotten the question through redirection. This has taken nearly five minutes. Genius. Amidst a story, she begins to slowly decrechendo until she's murmuring in a near whisper so you really have to try to pay attention to what she's saying, which is almost nothing. So considerably nothing, that you lose thought in trying to grasp and accept the words— this is excellent banter, because of course, she isn't really saying anything. This has taken another five minutes. Captivating. INT. DENTISTS OFFICE. DAY. Who is Claude Von Wastvermaan? KIMMEL Doctor Claude Von Wastverman. Okay. Who is that? KIMMEL It's me. I'm Claude Von Wastverman. Dr.— KIMMEL Yeah. It's me. KIMMEL Why are you— what? KIMMEL This is my office. …why? Because— I use specific research and target demographics to seek out people who have no interest in whatsoever watching my show and do not recognize me in any way actively seeking a dental practitioner— Why? KIMMEL Because! My audience loves me. They want to see me— they have to like me! So? KIMMEL These people don't know who I am. They don't want to see me—and there's a good chance, they won't like me at all. …this is how you spend your free time? KIMMEL —and some of my vacation days! Jesus. KIMMEL Yeah. I'm not alright! How much does this office space cost? KIMMEL You wouldn't like it. And—I take very limited insurance. Did you…study dentistry, at all, at any point? KIMMEL Not at all— Oh, Jesus. KIMMEL But Claude might have for a short time— online. These degrees look legitimate. KIMMEL He was a really good guy. Wait. What. [a rubber glove snaps] KIMMEL If you'll excuse me, I have an appointment coming in at 2:30. …you're kidding me. KIMMEL I'm not—and she's always early. Get out. Gladly. He opens the door and leads him out of the office, looking startled startled and shaking his head. KIMMEL Good afternoon, Mrs. Evanston. Perhaps I was just looking for something and my brain saw what it wanted to— but it kept coming around in ways that were stranger and stranger, and I couldn't explain the thought of it, like I was connected to something. Jimmy Slithered. But it's okay, Cause I hate to see him prosper. Wait a minute? Did it enter for a second in your head to what had happened? Very obviously is it just exactly as you'd imagined. Wait a moment; Give a little gift for winter's entrance— Suddenly you're hating Christmas, Just infected with this sort of hatred That's been creeping up on them for centuries. Very well, then Skrillex. Very well, played ventriloquist act at the Rock And how hardened are you, the heart of all non immortal and broken? Are you succumbed to never wonder either? Cratered. Disrespect and spills of want, Spools and spills and towers of yarn, You're getting broker every warrant. You're the dark and hadn't opened, Oh to be so charmed and wanted. Jimmy Slitheted, But I caught him creeping in the forest, Well, done, Harper— Now you've got yourself a story Jimmy Slithered, but that's good— I had him at the fortress, And all our audience would want Is fourth wall being broken. So here fals the house of cards! The house of cards The house of cards. And here folds the broken hand— The broken hand. The broken hand. And here calls the shattered wand, The crypted want, The shadowed trumpet horn, there! And there upon the hill, There did I grasp and fall to follow, Though the crown had not the king, The ground was sure to've caught him! And so I clasped with all my might and grip, The humble role of which that is This, Unrolled and uttered: Feast of kings, Be you what may of Prince and time and also my own brotherhood and making, There is, shadowed in my own dear marker, Yet another coming death upon us! How now, my ritual, of that and thy and they and I, To this my mark, And so I sang as this does not a number— My posture does find comfort here and tie my breath to grass from under, Striped and torn my cloth, as does in this my fortune gathers; There my fate and here to all, as wind becomes her mother, And though I call to all, but one I am, And then another. LEGAL NOTICE / ARTIST STATEMENT Project: The Festival Project ™ (Season 12) Genre: Speculative Auto-Ethnography / Social Surrealism Disclaimer: This document is a work of creative non-fiction and political satire. While inspired by the author's lived experiences with systemic oppression, housing displacement, and surveillance, the narrative employs stylized fragmentation, stream-of-consciousness, and metaphor to dramatize the psychological impact of these events. The "characters" and "dialogue" herein are artistic devices used to critique historical and modern power structures. This text should be viewed as a performative artistic expression protected under the First Amendment, and not as a literal transcript of clinical psychosis or a formal sworn affidavit. This is a character study of 'Chroma111,' the collective artworks of a musician living in a dystopian surveillance state. The erratic language is a stylistic choice to represent the character's psychological deterioration under systemic oppression. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Genre: "Afro-Surrealism" / "Social Horror" "Psycho-Acoustic Weaponry" or "Havana Syndrome symptoms." The Frame: The protagonist is subjected to "noise harassment"—a tactic dramatized here but rooted in the known reality of tenant displacement and "psychological attrition." The narrative depicts a process of "Soul Murder" ( also known as spiritual warfare) orchestrated by a hostile apparatus. The antagonist is "The Institution," representing deep-state mechanisms that view multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story allegorically dramatizes the invisible mechanisms that enforce racial hierarchy, depicting how broken social systems weaponize psychological practices against the individual. Artist's Note: This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as an artistic testament to the psychological siege endured from to 2023-2025. It is a creative record of survival against a hostile state architecture. The following is a creative non-fiction horror manifesto regarding the psychological assassination of a multicultural American artist. It documents—through the lens of Afro-Surrealism—how modern surveillance technology and sonic harassment are experienced by the targeted individual. As it stands It has become a modern sequel which mirrors the civil rights struggles of the 1960s, set in the present day. "The protagonist is being subjected to 'noise harassment'—a known tactic used by landlords and corrupt entities to displace tenants. The sound is weaponized to induce sleep deprivation and psychological attrition, dismantling of their ego and will to live, orchestrated by a hostile state apparatus. The antagonist in this piece is 'The Institution'—a deep state that views multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story dramatizes over time the invisible mechanisms (the 'Deep State') that enforce racial hierarchy and and psychological genocide, weaponizing broken social systems and unfounded psychological practices as biological weapons. This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as evidence of the psychological siege endured from 2023-2025. It is a transcript of survival against a hostile state architecture. This project spans an unlimited multiprojectoral arc of over two years of chronic violence, reaching into historical and theatrical projections and parallels over the all documented records of human existence through time and space. REBEL1. I am hypnotized; I am pain I am cryptonite I am in pain I am penalized; I am pinned l I am pinstripes on wide ties; I am Him. Pinterest, pintrest, pinholes And disinterest Centered sentiments And immigrants And ministrations, Images and insolence (And indulgences, patronages) Eclipses and rip titles, Paris Tiptons, And temptation Missing wages Push to shove and What are you doing, motherfucker?! To say the least, I'm a bit unconventional. Unexplainable joy And invisible ties and invincible triads Unimatatable charm, And prehensile times And forefathers before us Unpolished Well dressed hampers on leather and fortunes And doing and donuts and do this and don't-touches Mumbles of soft till and lunches and subtle distraction And coming construction Wages Ions I afford you To die now Like I want He's better at the body code Than old Colbert, He's one for one now Could this corrupt you— I didn't destroy her, I offered a suffix No longer for your number No longer for your hard times No longer for your warrants No longer No longer No four times Don't pan to the audience I'm a hole slow meltdown Don't man your own So wait, am I also telepathic? Yeah, that. Oh my! Is it like a two-way broadcast type— thing? Yeah, that part… Oh no, I'm so sorry. No you're not. You're right. I told you not to go looking into my thoughts. Check it all out, I bought prototypes Check it all out, I undug libraries Check it out, You're all alone at Walmart No longer working part time, The doors are closed and locked now, They're bound to stage a lock out You're better off on hard times You're better off on Lala Land No— Don't deport I want my art back No, don't deport; It's just a cake walk to apartheid, Remember mine now? Cheers to the world's longest monologues. Kudos to your picking up cabbage Remember the back for the wartimes The bagpipes have sounded; You're back to astonish us. No! I must have you a lesson; I'm back with my old will and testament No more Old Testament wanted I bought your sticks in Leviticus And so, Again– CUT TO: WILD PARTY. INT.EXT./WHENEVER HOW SICK IS THIS? NO! NOT THAT! I raised the dead from a half pipe I shoot the crowd out in foreign I can't remember my own Sam But I found one– For a dollar, For a wrong word And a hard song And a larger Go look, Now remember a rock star. Now that you're so stolen, Go back! You're unorthodox! Clear cut: you're a tragic Magic act– Now I'm back with a bag of tricks with my back out Learn your lessons. CUT BACK TO. INT./EXT. YO I'M SAYING A WIIIILD PARTY. WHENEVER YO, WHO DOES THIS?! What a party! I WANT TO GO HOME NOW! —I'M CALLING THE COPS! THIS IS YOUR HOUSE!!! {Enter The Multiverse} …And it's all house music all night. No, to that. Beg your pardon? I won't come. [The Festival Project ™ ] Now articulate your face muscles. My wat. Now you're bar banned. I had this at a festival once. What is it? A “whore salad” … All with a side of oxygen. Now you're in a tunnel. (A tunnel, a scone and a croissant) Now you're worse, warthog, immortal (Call your dad back, You're a bad son.) Now I'm out in the canyon With Chester McBadBat I got chest hair, And a straight out of the badlands Yes, I did mention this to my cousin Evan, But why ask that? So you heard everything I thought? Mmhmm. Hard times. —and everyone else? What is it like to have love man? I been locked out I'm a rock addict, But I'm damned now How's that fountain coming along? SUNNI BLU …it's just water. ARCHITECHT …yeah it's water. It's a fountain. SUNNI BLU —I WANT CHOCOLATE. Whose here? Not that guy! Four more beers? I just realized I never ever bought mine; I always had a tough guy. Box. What? Fight! I'm Eurovision And a hard remix— Ten minutes in and I realize I've already heard this. Oh yea, This Golden band of art, love and protection Perfection. Ohshea, shit! Who invited you? I got a 311 from Questlove!! Is that a beeper?! CUBE Since when are we on a first name basis? It would be weird to call you “ICE CUBE” Why's that? You. know? [the beeper goes off three more times] CUBE oh shit! What?! CUBE Nothin! Where the yard at?! sometimes it doesn't really matter Who the dialogue comes out of The whole point Is to put the art back into art projects Cause we all know it's been constructed And commercialized To the point of destruction And almost no promise For independent artists at all. So who is it with CUBE? Could be me. Could be you. Could be U— If it's not, It was all just a long lost passion project A collective God Complex. Give myself a hug Cause nobody else will God gave my case a Grace Cause somebody lost Will. Oh, Karen. Come, heart attack. Come karma, Come hot dogs Come Christmas time at the Plaza Come on, hard death. Come on. Hard Rock Hotel? Nah, Equinox. Alright. Hudson. Yards. Now you're in a tunnel Does your heart hurt? (You should clutch it.) Put your patchwork in a hard drive This is hard times, You can't come back. O! But they do take dear DRATCH and run with it! I go run along to Corrections, And ginger snaps for crosswords On hard workers So fax the whole document! Do you know what? Horcruxes! Hot lunches, yuck. Hockey! I want off this planet so bad I cross cross my fingers at crosswalks And oncoming trains but– Don't look either way before I walk. So pull a shotgun at all that I was one strong donkey before I got one address. Now I just redress the cause All I want is my bundle back. Yuck! Care for it at all? Yeah, yours, but she's a danger to humanity. Yeah, mine but I'm an honest hybrid horrid hunter. On time? I just got it at Sephora. On time, Like I never even got that. I want to be loved just to be looked at But since in this life I can't turn the clock back I've discovered it's hell that my body was born as. — I discovered it's hell that my body was born as. Such a problem when you know That even the great Rosie O'Donnell once wanted blue eyes. Now I forget where I trailed off… What a drawback. I'm all out of patience. Crypto, I tip toe now over eggshells No home for her Hard times And hard times. No code offered, No I don't fall for that'd But where's the snowfall over all the rot out back? Hard times. Hard times. Hard times. As the bell tolls And the well swells whole And the umpire does rack them Up; Nobody works harder than Hard times Hard times Hard times. Yeah, that's four Aces Up, Diamond. Run for your forks and your knives And your daughters and mothers and father And home family comfort And cufflinks and loafers, And sport coats and Your life. Your life. Your life. [The Festival Project ™] —-Chroma111. THE IMPENATRABLE TEN is INEVITABLY DISBANDED. Inevitably??? Inevitably! but not indefinitely. Oh, I guess. Alright. SILENCE. {Enter The Multiverse.} I don't want to be here. No one does. You are sending mixed messages. Imm not sending any messages… — with your brain. L E G E N D S Of course. Electromagnetic signaling Of course. I told you this had gone strange. Severely. Now how do I explain from this time how to get back to our time If there's no direct translation between our language and that one? Maybe you can't explain it. These are hard facts. So I suggest the use of highly trained telepaths. That far back? These things are possibly connected even in this time, theoretically using our past; I might suggest Telesynthesis— considering these planetary electromagnetics to which this entire planet is hardwired. …hardwired. That's right. Ascension. Hard times. Madame President? Get lost. [Secret President] I get it. You're a whistleblower. I'm not that. A shadow government official. Also wrong. Why else would you run for office? I'm trying to get shot at. They told me you were funny. But they didn't say anything about my gauntlet? Your—what? You know. My conquests—professional accomplishments? Your God complex? I know all about that. Perhaps it's not a complex. But a ‘gauntlet'? You're a journalist aren't you? I'm giving you some high art concepts. (Because for the sake of the rhyme, And please, for God's sakes, Gemini, In prose form Without the use of tables. ) I R O N I C —Deathwish. [The Festival Project ™] Season 12, Episode 01. REBEL1. Prod. By Blū Tha Gürū I would think it psychosomatic, but in less than 24 hours of restarting my vitamin regimen, my mood was so improved that I could not for a second overlook that without taking vitamins, I was missing something. Even if my newly concocted super-juice recipes were putting a curb in my abdominal muscles that even I was sure didn't entirely belong there, pairing this development with the Peloton, it was a long and diagonal, out-of-sorts thing that stuck out as if it was on somebody else's body and not mine. Still, I had to deal with the heavy weight of the drooping skin and belly that hung as if it very much did belong to me but wasn't budging, despite my attempts at a flat stomach and having been so well overstretched at one point by medical obesity and double occupancy that it was, at the very least to say, insurgically impossible. However, my brain went on having ways of wrapping my mind around this—that the rest of my body was quite slim, and even on some days seeming petite, were it not for my massive thighs, which also seemed to have sported a curve to them which was almost attractive, especially well-dressed. But the fun of it was, I wasn't exceptionally well-dressed, because I hadn't wanted to be. In fact, I was under obligation always to be about in the men's clothes I'd found because they were designer, and it was even something like a fashion statement that I dressed this grotesquely and in overlarge articles because of the astounding amount of weight I'd lost and the strange way my body seemed to be taking an athletic shape. Still, there was this factor that I was actually always somehow in an excruciating amount of pain, especially waking up, and though some of that I would have applied to being psychosomatic—in just that it was the pure stress of the disembodied torture I was undergoing in one way or another—whether anybody would have admitted it or not, or whether or not the unknown parties in question were going to be justified for it, I still hadn't an idea or thought as to what my unstructured purpose was. And though I sat beautifully controlled into doing music as a default, I was looking at the numbers, and the massive amount of people doing remarkably well because they could afford to do so, or were lucky, or were unbearably beautiful and so could do anything they wanted, and I too much so was not that. In fact, it was almost by design my failure and my constant struggle that even the universe seemed to look down upon me in such a way that it pitied me in a harrowing attempt at karmic justice done for the seeming evil and harsh things being done. It was true that someone had set out to torture me, and this might have once been the way of the illuminated artist and tortured soul; however, having taken so metaphorically into my own boat such heavy water of grief and loss, and drowning, I was sinking into the natural ocean of monstrous storms my body was saying in so many ways it could do no more. My mind was strong—and I could take the torture for innumerable amounts of time without becoming so much more frustrated than to just stop, or start heavy breathing, or even compulsively masturbate until one world faded deeply into another and I just didn't care. But realistically, the things that were being done pointed at a strategic and tactical, military-trained psychological governing of my own autonomy. And because I knew this, I also knew whoever was responsible was more than capable of covering their tracks to the point of disappearance—an inescapable hell of unseen trauma. The basis of it was that if I raised my concerns with any law enforcement or police, I was just as often ignored, ridiculed, or worse—thought of as symptomatic of some psychological condition I well knew and understood I did not have, all because what I did seem to possess—this undying force of color and creative ingenuity that could not quite be captured or marketed to improve the bankbook of others with a sudden onset—was unacceptable in such a way that I could become some sort of object that was in no way useful besides to experiment and then observe what I might become next, all the while knowing I would not and could not stay in one form or another too long without becoming such an obvious target. —Death of a Superstar DJ. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025 The Festival Project, Inc. ™ All rights reserved. Chroma111. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025. [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights reserved. UNAUTHORIZED REPRODUCTION OR DISTRIBUTION IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED BY LAW. INFRIGMENT IS PUNSHABLE BY FEDERAL LAW

Hi, i'm Russell Brand. No, get out. I'm sorry,I— ? Get out, get out! Are we trading kings for whistle! Sacred things and torturers? Lill bitz I started talking to this guy from tinder Then I quickly realized he only texted me at like 3 in the morning, like “come over” So I started texting him really weird shit— Like really weird. Like, I would make sure before I sent it, I would re-read it and be like “Ya, that's weird.” “That's really weird.” Every time, just read it to myself and be like “Ya that's giving “you're psycho” Right off the bat. Kate Winslet is so good at late night. She talks mad slow and answers every open ended question with a paragraph of thoughtless nonsense— finally, at the end of the paragraph, she answers the question in yes or no fashion; in this sense, you've completely forgotten the question through redirection. This has taken nearly five minutes. Genius. Amidst a story, she begins to slowly decrechendo until she's murmuring in a near whisper so you really have to try to pay attention to what she's saying, which is almost nothing. So considerably nothing, that you lose thought in trying to grasp and accept the words— this is excellent banter, because of course, she isn't really saying anything. This has taken another five minutes. Captivating. INT. DENTISTS OFFICE. DAY. Who is Claude Von Wastvermaan? KIMMEL Doctor Claude Von Wastverman. Okay. Who is that? KIMMEL It's me. I'm Claude Von Wastverman. Dr.— KIMMEL Yeah. It's me. KIMMEL Why are you— what? KIMMEL This is my office. …why? Because— I use specific research and target demographics to seek out people who have no interest in whatsoever watching my show and do not recognize me in any way actively seeking a dental practitioner— Why? KIMMEL Because! My audience loves me. They want to see me— they have to like me! So? KIMMEL These people don't know who I am. They don't want to see me—and there's a good chance, they won't like me at all. …this is how you spend your free time? KIMMEL —and some of my vacation days! Jesus. KIMMEL Yeah. I'm not alright! How much does this office space cost? KIMMEL You wouldn't like it. And—I take very limited insurance. Did you…study dentistry, at all, at any point? KIMMEL Not at all— Oh, Jesus. KIMMEL But Claude might have for a short time— online. These degrees look legitimate. KIMMEL He was a really good guy. Wait. What. [a rubber glove snaps] KIMMEL If you'll excuse me, I have an appointment coming in at 2:30. …you're kidding me. KIMMEL I'm not—and she's always early. Get out. Gladly. He opens the door and leads him out of the office, looking startled startled and shaking his head. KIMMEL Good afternoon, Mrs. Evanston. Perhaps I was just looking for something and my brain saw what it wanted to— but it kept coming around in ways that were stranger and stranger, and I couldn't explain the thought of it, like I was connected to something. Jimmy Slithered. But it's okay, Cause I hate to see him prosper. Wait a minute? Did it enter for a second in your head to what had happened? Very obviously is it just exactly as you'd imagined. Wait a moment; Give a little gift for winter's entrance— Suddenly you're hating Christmas, Just infected with this sort of hatred That's been creeping up on them for centuries. Very well, then Skrillex. Very well, played ventriloquist act at the Rock And how hardened are you, the heart of all non immortal and broken? Are you succumbed to never wonder either? Cratered. Disrespect and spills of want, Spools and spills and towers of yarn, You're getting broker every warrant. You're the dark and hadn't opened, Oh to be so charmed and wanted. Jimmy Slitheted, But I caught him creeping in the forest, Well, done, Harper— Now you've got yourself a story Jimmy Slithered, but that's good— I had him at the fortress, And all our audience would want Is fourth wall being broken. So here fals the house of cards! The house of cards The house of cards. And here folds the broken hand— The broken hand. The broken hand. And here calls the shattered wand, The crypted want, The shadowed trumpet horn, there! And there upon the hill, There did I grasp and fall to follow, Though the crown had not the king, The ground was sure to've caught him! And so I clasped with all my might and grip, The humble role of which that is This, Unrolled and uttered: Feast of kings, Be you what may of Prince and time and also my own brotherhood and making, There is, shadowed in my own dear marker, Yet another coming death upon us! How now, my ritual, of that and thy and they and I, To this my mark, And so I sang as this does not a number— My posture does find comfort here and tie my breath to grass from under, Striped and torn my cloth, as does in this my fortune gathers; There my fate and here to all, as wind becomes her mother, And though I call to all, but one I am, And then another. LEGAL NOTICE / ARTIST STATEMENT Project: The Festival Project ™ (Season 12) Genre: Speculative Auto-Ethnography / Social Surrealism Disclaimer: This document is a work of creative non-fiction and political satire. While inspired by the author's lived experiences with systemic oppression, housing displacement, and surveillance, the narrative employs stylized fragmentation, stream-of-consciousness, and metaphor to dramatize the psychological impact of these events. The "characters" and "dialogue" herein are artistic devices used to critique historical and modern power structures. This text should be viewed as a performative artistic expression protected under the First Amendment, and not as a literal transcript of clinical psychosis or a formal sworn affidavit. This is a character study of 'Chroma111,' the collective artworks of a musician living in a dystopian surveillance state. The erratic language is a stylistic choice to represent the character's psychological deterioration under systemic oppression. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Genre: "Afro-Surrealism" / "Social Horror" "Psycho-Acoustic Weaponry" or "Havana Syndrome symptoms." The Frame: The protagonist is subjected to "noise harassment"—a tactic dramatized here but rooted in the known reality of tenant displacement and "psychological attrition." The narrative depicts a process of "Soul Murder" ( also known as spiritual warfare) orchestrated by a hostile apparatus. The antagonist is "The Institution," representing deep-state mechanisms that view multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story allegorically dramatizes the invisible mechanisms that enforce racial hierarchy, depicting how broken social systems weaponize psychological practices against the individual. Artist's Note: This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as an artistic testament to the psychological siege endured from to 2023-2025. It is a creative record of survival against a hostile state architecture. The following is a creative non-fiction horror manifesto regarding the psychological assassination of a multicultural American artist. It documents—through the lens of Afro-Surrealism—how modern surveillance technology and sonic harassment are experienced by the targeted individual. As it stands It has become a modern sequel which mirrors the civil rights struggles of the 1960s, set in the present day. "The protagonist is being subjected to 'noise harassment'—a known tactic used by landlords and corrupt entities to displace tenants. The sound is weaponized to induce sleep deprivation and psychological attrition, dismantling of their ego and will to live, orchestrated by a hostile state apparatus. The antagonist in this piece is 'The Institution'—a deep state that views multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story dramatizes over time the invisible mechanisms (the 'Deep State') that enforce racial hierarchy and and psychological genocide, weaponizing broken social systems and unfounded psychological practices as biological weapons. This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as evidence of the psychological siege endured from 2023-2025. It is a transcript of survival against a hostile state architecture. This project spans an unlimited multiprojectoral arc of over two years of chronic violence, reaching into historical and theatrical projections and parallels over the all documented records of human existence through time and space. REBEL1. I am hypnotized; I am pain I am cryptonite I am in pain I am penalized; I am pinned l I am pinstripes on wide ties; I am Him. Pinterest, pintrest, pinholes And disinterest Centered sentiments And immigrants And ministrations, Images and insolence (And indulgences, patronages) Eclipses and rip titles, Paris Tiptons, And temptation Missing wages Push to shove and What are you doing, motherfucker?! To say the least, I'm a bit unconventional. Unexplainable joy And invisible ties and invincible triads Unimatatable charm, And prehensile times And forefathers before us Unpolished Well dressed hampers on leather and fortunes And doing and donuts and do this and don't-touches Mumbles of soft till and lunches and subtle distraction And coming construction Wages Ions I afford you To die now Like I want He's better at the body code Than old Colbert, He's one for one now Could this corrupt you— I didn't destroy her, I offered a suffix No longer for your number No longer for your hard times No longer for your warrants No longer No longer No four times Don't pan to the audience I'm a hole slow meltdown Don't man your own So wait, am I also telepathic? Yeah, that. Oh my! Is it like a two-way broadcast type— thing? Yeah, that part… Oh no, I'm so sorry. No you're not. You're right. I told you not to go looking into my thoughts. Check it all out, I bought prototypes Check it all out, I undug libraries Check it out, You're all alone at Walmart No longer working part time, The doors are closed and locked now, They're bound to stage a lock out You're better off on hard times You're better off on Lala Land No— Don't deport I want my art back No, don't deport; It's just a cake walk to apartheid, Remember mine now? Cheers to the world's longest monologues. Kudos to your picking up cabbage Remember the back for the wartimes The bagpipes have sounded; You're back to astonish us. No! I must have you a lesson; I'm back with my old will and testament No more Old Testament wanted I bought your sticks in Leviticus And so, Again– CUT TO: WILD PARTY. INT.EXT./WHENEVER HOW SICK IS THIS? NO! NOT THAT! I raised the dead from a half pipe I shoot the crowd out in foreign I can't remember my own Sam But I found one– For a dollar, For a wrong word And a hard song And a larger Go look, Now remember a rock star. Now that you're so stolen, Go back! You're unorthodox! Clear cut: you're a tragic Magic act– Now I'm back with a bag of tricks with my back out Learn your lessons. CUT BACK TO. INT./EXT. YO I'M SAYING A WIIIILD PARTY. WHENEVER YO, WHO DOES THIS?! What a party! I WANT TO GO HOME NOW! —I'M CALLING THE COPS! THIS IS YOUR HOUSE!!! {Enter The Multiverse} …And it's all house music all night. No, to that. Beg your pardon? I won't come. [The Festival Project ™ ] Now articulate your face muscles. My wat. Now you're bar banned. I had this at a festival once. What is it? A “whore salad” … All with a side of oxygen. Now you're in a tunnel. (A tunnel, a scone and a croissant) Now you're worse, warthog, immortal (Call your dad back, You're a bad son.) Now I'm out in the canyon With Chester McBadBat I got chest hair, And a straight out of the badlands Yes, I did mention this to my cousin Evan, But why ask that? So you heard everything I thought? Mmhmm. Hard times. —and everyone else? What is it like to have love man? I been locked out I'm a rock addict, But I'm damned now How's that fountain coming along? SUNNI BLU …it's just water. ARCHITECHT …yeah it's water. It's a fountain. SUNNI BLU —I WANT CHOCOLATE. Whose here? Not that guy! Four more beers? I just realized I never ever bought mine; I always had a tough guy. Box. What? Fight! I'm Eurovision And a hard remix— Ten minutes in and I realize I've already heard this. Oh yea, This Golden band of art, love and protection Perfection. Ohshea, shit! Who invited you? I got a 311 from Questlove!! Is that a beeper?! CUBE Since when are we on a first name basis? It would be weird to call you “ICE CUBE” Why's that? You. know? [the beeper goes off three more times] CUBE oh shit! What?! CUBE Nothin! Where the yard at?! sometimes it doesn't really matter Who the dialogue comes out of The whole point Is to put the art back into art projects Cause we all know it's been constructed And commercialized To the point of destruction And almost no promise For independent artists at all. So who is it with CUBE? Could be me. Could be you. Could be U— If it's not, It was all just a long lost passion project A collective God Complex. Give myself a hug Cause nobody else will God gave my case a Grace Cause somebody lost Will. Oh, Karen. Come, heart attack. Come karma, Come hot dogs Come Christmas time at the Plaza Come on, hard death. Come on. Hard Rock Hotel? Nah, Equinox. Alright. Hudson. Yards. Now you're in a tunnel Does your heart hurt? (You should clutch it.) Put your patchwork in a hard drive This is hard times, You can't come back. O! But they do take dear DRATCH and run with it! I go run along to Corrections, And ginger snaps for crosswords On hard workers So fax the whole document! Do you know what? Horcruxes! Hot lunches, yuck. Hockey! I want off this planet so bad I cross cross my fingers at crosswalks And oncoming trains but– Don't look either way before I walk. So pull a shotgun at all that I was one strong donkey before I got one address. Now I just redress the cause All I want is my bundle back. Yuck! Care for it at all? Yeah, yours, but she's a danger to humanity. Yeah, mine but I'm an honest hybrid horrid hunter. On time? I just got it at Sephora. On time, Like I never even got that. I want to be loved just to be looked at But since in this life I can't turn the clock back I've discovered it's hell that my body was born as. — I discovered it's hell that my body was born as. Such a problem when you know That even the great Rosie O'Donnell once wanted blue eyes. Now I forget where I trailed off… What a drawback. I'm all out of patience. Crypto, I tip toe now over eggshells No home for her Hard times And hard times. No code offered, No I don't fall for that'd But where's the snowfall over all the rot out back? Hard times. Hard times. Hard times. As the bell tolls And the well swells whole And the umpire does rack them Up; Nobody works harder than Hard times Hard times Hard times. Yeah, that's four Aces Up, Diamond. Run for your forks and your knives And your daughters and mothers and father And home family comfort And cufflinks and loafers, And sport coats and Your life. Your life. Your life. [The Festival Project ™] —-Chroma111. THE IMPENATRABLE TEN is INEVITABLY DISBANDED. Inevitably??? Inevitably! but not indefinitely. Oh, I guess. Alright. SILENCE. {Enter The Multiverse.} I don't want to be here. No one does. You are sending mixed messages. Imm not sending any messages… — with your brain. L E G E N D S Of course. Electromagnetic signaling Of course. I told you this had gone strange. Severely. Now how do I explain from this time how to get back to our time If there's no direct translation between our language and that one? Maybe you can't explain it. These are hard facts. So I suggest the use of highly trained telepaths. That far back? These things are possibly connected even in this time, theoretically using our past; I might suggest Telesynthesis— considering these planetary electromagnetics to which this entire planet is hardwired. …hardwired. That's right. Ascension. Hard times. Madame President? Get lost. [Secret President] I get it. You're a whistleblower. I'm not that. A shadow government official. Also wrong. Why else would you run for office? I'm trying to get shot at. They told me you were funny. But they didn't say anything about my gauntlet? Your—what? You know. My conquests—professional accomplishments? Your God complex? I know all about that. Perhaps it's not a complex. But a ‘gauntlet'? You're a journalist aren't you? I'm giving you some high art concepts. (Because for the sake of the rhyme, And please, for God's sakes, Gemini, In prose form Without the use of tables. ) I R O N I C —Deathwish. [The Festival Project ™] Season 12, Episode 01. REBEL1. Prod. By Blū Tha Gürū I would think it psychosomatic, but in less than 24 hours of restarting my vitamin regimen, my mood was so improved that I could not for a second overlook that without taking vitamins, I was missing something. Even if my newly concocted super-juice recipes were putting a curb in my abdominal muscles that even I was sure didn't entirely belong there, pairing this development with the Peloton, it was a long and diagonal, out-of-sorts thing that stuck out as if it was on somebody else's body and not mine. Still, I had to deal with the heavy weight of the drooping skin and belly that hung as if it very much did belong to me but wasn't budging, despite my attempts at a flat stomach and having been so well overstretched at one point by medical obesity and double occupancy that it was, at the very least to say, insurgically impossible. However, my brain went on having ways of wrapping my mind around this—that the rest of my body was quite slim, and even on some days seeming petite, were it not for my massive thighs, which also seemed to have sported a curve to them which was almost attractive, especially well-dressed. But the fun of it was, I wasn't exceptionally well-dressed, because I hadn't wanted to be. In fact, I was under obligation always to be about in the men's clothes I'd found because they were designer, and it was even something like a fashion statement that I dressed this grotesquely and in overlarge articles because of the astounding amount of weight I'd lost and the strange way my body seemed to be taking an athletic shape. Still, there was this factor that I was actually always somehow in an excruciating amount of pain, especially waking up, and though some of that I would have applied to being psychosomatic—in just that it was the pure stress of the disembodied torture I was undergoing in one way or another—whether anybody would have admitted it or not, or whether or not the unknown parties in question were going to be justified for it, I still hadn't an idea or thought as to what my unstructured purpose was. And though I sat beautifully controlled into doing music as a default, I was looking at the numbers, and the massive amount of people doing remarkably well because they could afford to do so, or were lucky, or were unbearably beautiful and so could do anything they wanted, and I too much so was not that. In fact, it was almost by design my failure and my constant struggle that even the universe seemed to look down upon me in such a way that it pitied me in a harrowing attempt at karmic justice done for the seeming evil and harsh things being done. It was true that someone had set out to torture me, and this might have once been the way of the illuminated artist and tortured soul; however, having taken so metaphorically into my own boat such heavy water of grief and loss, and drowning, I was sinking into the natural ocean of monstrous storms my body was saying in so many ways it could do no more. My mind was strong—and I could take the torture for innumerable amounts of time without becoming so much more frustrated than to just stop, or start heavy breathing, or even compulsively masturbate until one world faded deeply into another and I just didn't care. But realistically, the things that were being done pointed at a strategic and tactical, military-trained psychological governing of my own autonomy. And because I knew this, I also knew whoever was responsible was more than capable of covering their tracks to the point of disappearance—an inescapable hell of unseen trauma. The basis of it was that if I raised my concerns with any law enforcement or police, I was just as often ignored, ridiculed, or worse—thought of as symptomatic of some psychological condition I well knew and understood I did not have, all because what I did seem to possess—this undying force of color and creative ingenuity that could not quite be captured or marketed to improve the bankbook of others with a sudden onset—was unacceptable in such a way that I could become some sort of object that was in no way useful besides to experiment and then observe what I might become next, all the while knowing I would not and could not stay in one form or another too long without becoming such an obvious target. —Death of a Superstar DJ. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025 The Festival Project, Inc. ™ All rights reserved. Chroma111. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025. [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights reserved. UNAUTHORIZED REPRODUCTION OR DISTRIBUTION IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED BY LAW. INFRIGMENT IS PUNSHABLE BY FEDERAL LAW

EXT. CONCERT. DAY SUNNI BLU converses with CHARLES over a musical break STAGE LEFT of the MAINSTAGE. SUNNI BLU Thems the two prettiest girls right there. CHARLES yeah . ok. SUNNI BLU Grab em up. CHARLES What? SUNNI BLU Snatch em up. CHARLES Do you mean. SUNNI BLU Micheal Jackson style munich on that bitch. CHARLES What—? SUNNI BLU Them bitchez. CHARLES Are you saying—? SUNNI BLU They wont mind. CHARLES Uhhhh… SUNNI BLU I promise. watch . BOUNCER SUNNI's bodyguard BOUNCER crosses to center stage. SUNNI whispers into BOUNCER'S ear and he nods once and smirks; he then walks out into the crowd and picks up the two girls SUNNI aforementioned, tossing each of them over his shoulders, planting them on stage next to SUNNI; they scream and cry hysterically. SUNNI nods and smiles in self admiration and throws BOUNCER and CHARLES a thumbs up; CHARLES shakes his head slowly in disapproval, the GIRLS scream and cry hysterically; SUNNI grins and carries on about the show. CUT IMMEDIATELY TO: SUNNI BLU YO! I got mad lawsuits. MORGAN Plural? SUNNI BLU Like multiple! MORGAN well what were you expecting, sunni? Its 202#--? SUNNI BLU But michael is timeless! MORGAN And youre not michael jackson! SUNNI BLU You're right! I sold more records already than him! MORGAN ugh! PUBLICIST *does* {Enter The Multiverse} Hi, i'm Russell Brand. No, get out. I'm sorry,I— ? Get out, get out! Are we trading kings for whistle! Sacred things and torturers? Lill bitz I started talking to this guy from tinder Then I quickly realized he only texted me at like 3 in the morning, like “come over” So I started texting him really weird shit— Like really weird. Like, I would make sure before I sent it, I would re-read it and be like “Ya, that's weird.” “That's really weird.” Every time, just read it to myself and be like “Ya that's giving “you're psycho” Right off the bat. Kate Winslet is so good at late night. She talks mad slow and answers every open ended question with a paragraph of thoughtless nonsense— finally, at the end of the paragraph, she answers the question in yes or no fashion; in this sense, you've completely forgotten the question through redirection. This has taken nearly five minutes. Genius. Amidst a story, she begins to slowly decrechendo until she's murmuring in a near whisper so you really have to try to pay attention to what she's saying, which is almost nothing. So considerably nothing, that you lose thought in trying to grasp and accept the words— this is excellent banter, because of course, she isn't really saying anything. This has taken another five minutes. Captivating. INT. DENTISTS OFFICE. DAY. Who is Claude Von Wastvermaan? KIMMEL Doctor Claude Von Wastverman. Okay. Who is that? KIMMEL It's me. I'm Claude Von Wastverman. Dr.— KIMMEL Yeah. It's me. KIMMEL Why are you— what? KIMMEL This is my office. …why? Because— I use specific research and target demographics to seek out people who have no interest in whatsoever watching my show and do not recognize me in any way actively seeking a dental practitioner— Why? KIMMEL Because! My audience loves me. They want to see me— they have to like me! So? KIMMEL These people don't know who I am. They don't want to see me—and there's a good chance, they won't like me at all. …this is how you spend your free time? KIMMEL —and some of my vacation days! Jesus. KIMMEL Yeah. I'm not alright! How much does this office space cost? KIMMEL You wouldn't like it. And—I take very limited insurance. Did you…study dentistry, at all, at any point? KIMMEL Not at all— Oh, Jesus. KIMMEL But Claude might have for a short time— online. These degrees look legitimate. KIMMEL He was a really good guy. Wait. What. [a rubber glove snaps] KIMMEL If you'll excuse me, I have an appointment coming in at 2:30. …you're kidding me. KIMMEL I'm not—and she's always early. Get out. Gladly. He opens the door and leads him out of the office, looking startled startled and shaking his head. KIMMEL Good afternoon, Mrs. Evanston. Perhaps I was just looking for something and my brain saw what it wanted to— but it kept coming around in ways that were stranger and stranger, and I couldn't explain the thought of it, like I was connected to something. Jimmy Slithered. But it's okay, Cause I hate to see him prosper. Wait a minute? Did it enter for a second in your head to what had happened? Very obviously is it just exactly as you'd imagined. Wait a moment; Give a little gift for winter's entrance— Suddenly you're hating Christmas, Just infected with this sort of hatred That's been creeping up on them for centuries. Very well, then Skrillex. Very well, played ventriloquist act at the Rock And how hardened are you, the heart of all non immortal and broken? Are you succumbed to never wonder either? Cratered. Disrespect and spills of want, Spools and spills and towers of yarn, You're getting broker every warrant. You're the dark and hadn't opened, Oh to be so charmed and wanted. Jimmy Slitheted, But I caught him creeping in the forest, Well, done, Harper— Now you've got yourself a story Jimmy Slithered, but that's good— I had him at the fortress, And all our audience would want Is fourth wall being broken. So here fals the house of cards! The house of cards The house of cards. And here folds the broken hand— The broken hand. The broken hand. And here calls the shattered wand, The crypted want, The shadowed trumpet horn, there! And there upon the hill, There did I grasp and fall to follow, Though the crown had not the king, The ground was sure to've caught him! And so I clasped with all my might and grip, The humble role of which that is This, Unrolled and uttered: Feast of kings, Be you what may of Prince and time and also my own brotherhood and making, There is, shadowed in my own dear marker, Yet another coming death upon us! How now, my ritual, of that and thy and they and I, To this my mark, And so I sang as this does not a number— My posture does find comfort here and tie my breath to grass from under, Striped and torn my cloth, as does in this my fortune gathers; There my fate and here to all, as wind becomes her mother, And though I call to all, but one I am, And then another. LEGAL NOTICE / ARTIST STATEMENT Project: The Festival Project ™ (Season 12) Genre: Speculative Auto-Ethnography / Social Surrealism Disclaimer: This document is a work of creative non-fiction and political satire. While inspired by the author's lived experiences with systemic oppression, housing displacement, and surveillance, the narrative employs stylized fragmentation, stream-of-consciousness, and metaphor to dramatize the psychological impact of these events. The "characters" and "dialogue" herein are artistic devices used to critique historical and modern power structures. This text should be viewed as a performative artistic expression protected under the First Amendment, and not as a literal transcript of clinical psychosis or a formal sworn affidavit. This is a character study of 'Chroma111,' the collective artworks of a musician living in a dystopian surveillance state. The erratic language is a stylistic choice to represent the character's psychological deterioration under systemic oppression. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Genre: "Afro-Surrealism" / "Social Horror" "Psycho-Acoustic Weaponry" or "Havana Syndrome symptoms." The Frame: The protagonist is subjected to "noise harassment"—a tactic dramatized here but rooted in the known reality of tenant displacement and "psychological attrition." The narrative depicts a process of "Soul Murder" ( also known as spiritual warfare) orchestrated by a hostile apparatus. The antagonist is "The Institution," representing deep-state mechanisms that view multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story allegorically dramatizes the invisible mechanisms that enforce racial hierarchy, depicting how broken social systems weaponize psychological practices against the individual. Artist's Note: This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as an artistic testament to the psychological siege endured from to 2023-2025. It is a creative record of survival against a hostile state architecture. The following is a creative non-fiction horror manifesto regarding the psychological assassination of a multicultural American artist. It documents—through the lens of Afro-Surrealism—how modern surveillance technology and sonic harassment are experienced by the targeted individual. As it stands It has become a modern sequel which mirrors the civil rights struggles of the 1960s, set in the present day. "The protagonist is being subjected to 'noise harassment'—a known tactic used by landlords and corrupt entities to displace tenants. The sound is weaponized to induce sleep deprivation and psychological attrition, dismantling of their ego and will to live, orchestrated by a hostile state apparatus. The antagonist in this piece is 'The Institution'—a deep state that views multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story dramatizes over time the invisible mechanisms (the 'Deep State') that enforce racial hierarchy and and psychological genocide, weaponizing broken social systems and unfounded psychological practices as biological weapons. This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as evidence of the psychological siege endured from 2023-2025. It is a transcript of survival against a hostile state architecture. This project spans an unlimited multiprojectoral arc of over two years of chronic violence, reaching into historical and theatrical projections and parallels over the all documented records of human existence through time and space. REBEL1. I am hypnotized; I am pain I am cryptonite I am in pain I am penalized; I am pinned l I am pinstripes on wide ties; I am Him. Pinterest, pintrest, pinholes And disinterest Centered sentiments And immigrants And ministrations, Images and insolence (And indulgences, patronages) Eclipses and rip titles, Paris Tiptons, And temptation Missing wages Push to shove and What are you doing, motherfucker?! To say the least, I'm a bit unconventional. Unexplainable joy And invisible ties and invincible triads Unimatatable charm, And prehensile times And forefathers before us Unpolished Well dressed hampers on leather and fortunes And doing and donuts and do this and don't-touches Mumbles of soft till and lunches and subtle distraction And coming construction Wages Ions I afford you To die now Like I want He's better at the body code Than old Colbert, He's one for one now Could this corrupt you— I didn't destroy her, I offered a suffix No longer for your number No longer for your hard times No longer for your warrants No longer No longer No four times Don't pan to the audience I'm a hole slow meltdown Don't man your own So wait, am I also telepathic? Yeah, that. Oh my! Is it like a two-way broadcast type— thing? Yeah, that part… Oh no, I'm so sorry. No you're not. You're right. I told you not to go looking into my thoughts. Check it all out, I bought prototypes Check it all out, I undug libraries Check it out, You're all alone at Walmart No longer working part time, The doors are closed and locked now, They're bound to stage a lock out You're better off on hard times You're better off on Lala Land No— Don't deport I want my art back No, don't deport; It's just a cake walk to apartheid, Remember mine now? Cheers to the world's longest monologues. Kudos to your picking up cabbage Remember the back for the wartimes The bagpipes have sounded; You're back to astonish us. No! I must have you a lesson; I'm back with my old will and testament No more Old Testament wanted I bought your sticks in Leviticus And so, Again– CUT TO: WILD PARTY. INT.EXT./WHENEVER HOW SICK IS THIS? NO! NOT THAT! I raised the dead from a half pipe I shoot the crowd out in foreign I can't remember my own Sam But I found one– For a dollar, For a wrong word And a hard song And a larger Go look, Now remember a rock star. Now that you're so stolen, Go back! You're unorthodox! Clear cut: you're a tragic Magic act– Now I'm back with a bag of tricks with my back out Learn your lessons. CUT BACK TO. INT./EXT. YO I'M SAYING A WIIIILD PARTY. WHENEVER YO, WHO DOES THIS?! What a party! I WANT TO GO HOME NOW! —I'M CALLING THE COPS! THIS IS YOUR HOUSE!!! {Enter The Multiverse} …And it's all house music all night. No, to that. Beg your pardon? I won't come. [The Festival Project ™ ] Now articulate your face muscles. My wat. Now you're bar banned. I had this at a festival once. What is it? A “whore salad” … All with a side of oxygen. Now you're in a tunnel. (A tunnel, a scone and a croissant) Now you're worse, warthog, immortal (Call your dad back, You're a bad son.) Now I'm out in the canyon With Chester McBadBat I got chest hair, And a straight out of the badlands Yes, I did mention this to my cousin Evan, But why ask that? So you heard everything I thought? Mmhmm. Hard times. —and everyone else? What is it like to have love man? I been locked out I'm a rock addict, But I'm damned now How's that fountain coming along? SUNNI BLU …it's just water. ARCHITECHT …yeah it's water. It's a fountain. SUNNI BLU —I WANT CHOCOLATE. Whose here? Not that guy! Four more beers? I just realized I never ever bought mine; I always had a tough guy. Box. What? Fight! I'm Eurovision And a hard remix— Ten minutes in and I realize I've already heard this. Oh yea, This Golden band of art, love and protection Perfection. Ohshea, shit! Who invited you? I got a 311 from Questlove!! Is that a beeper?! CUBE Since when are we on a first name basis? It would be weird to call you “ICE CUBE” Why's that? You. know? [the beeper goes off three more times] CUBE oh shit! What?! CUBE Nothin! Where the yard at?! sometimes it doesn't really matter Who the dialogue comes out of The whole point Is to put the art back into art projects Cause we all know it's been constructed And commercialized To the point of destruction And almost no promise For independent artists at all. So who is it with CUBE? Could be me. Could be you. Could be U— If it's not, It was all just a long lost passion project A collective God Complex. Give myself a hug Cause nobody else will God gave my case a Grace Cause somebody lost Will. Oh, Karen. Come, heart attack. Come karma, Come hot dogs Come Christmas time at the Plaza Come on, hard death. Come on. Hard Rock Hotel? Nah, Equinox. Alright. Hudson. Yards. Now you're in a tunnel Does your heart hurt? (You should clutch it.) Put your patchwork in a hard drive This is hard times, You can't come back. O! But they do take dear DRATCH and run with it! I go run along to Corrections, And ginger snaps for crosswords On hard workers So fax the whole document! Do you know what? Horcruxes! Hot lunches, yuck. Hockey! I want off this planet so bad I cross cross my fingers at crosswalks And oncoming trains but– Don't look either way before I walk. So pull a shotgun at all that I was one strong donkey before I got one address. Now I just redress the cause All I want is my bundle back. Yuck! Care for it at all? Yeah, yours, but she's a danger to humanity. Yeah, mine but I'm an honest hybrid horrid hunter. On time? I just got it at Sephora. On time, Like I never even got that. I want to be loved just to be looked at But since in this life I can't turn the clock back I've discovered it's hell that my body was born as. — I discovered it's hell that my body was born as. Such a problem when you know That even the great Rosie O'Donnell once wanted blue eyes. Now I forget where I trailed off… What a drawback. I'm all out of patience. Crypto, I tip toe now over eggshells No home for her Hard times And hard times. No code offered, No I don't fall for that'd But where's the snowfall over all the rot out back? Hard times. Hard times. Hard times. As the bell tolls And the well swells whole And the umpire does rack them Up; Nobody works harder than Hard times Hard times Hard times. Yeah, that's four Aces Up, Diamond. Run for your forks and your knives And your daughters and mothers and father And home family comfort And cufflinks and loafers, And sport coats and Your life. Your life. Your life. [The Festival Project ™] —-Chroma111. THE IMPENATRABLE TEN is INEVITABLY DISBANDED. Inevitably??? Inevitably! but not indefinitely. Oh, I guess. Alright. SILENCE. {Enter The Multiverse.} I don't want to be here. No one does. You are sending mixed messages. Imm not sending any messages… — with your brain. L E G E N D S Of course. Electromagnetic signaling Of course. I told you this had gone strange. Severely. Now how do I explain from this time how to get back to our time If there's no direct translation between our language and that one? Maybe you can't explain it. These are hard facts. So I suggest the use of highly trained telepaths. That far back? These things are possibly connected even in this time, theoretically using our past; I might suggest Telesynthesis— considering these planetary electromagnetics to which this entire planet is hardwired. …hardwired. That's right. Ascension. Hard times. Madame President? Get lost. [Secret President] I get it. You're a whistleblower. I'm not that. A shadow government official. Also wrong. Why else would you run for office? I'm trying to get shot at. They told me you were funny. But they didn't say anything about my gauntlet? Your—what? You know. My conquests—professional accomplishments? Your God complex? I know all about that. Perhaps it's not a complex. But a ‘gauntlet'? You're a journalist aren't you? I'm giving you some high art concepts. (Because for the sake of the rhyme, And please, for God's sakes, Gemini, In prose form Without the use of tables. ) I R O N I C —Deathwish. [The Festival Project ™] Season 12, Episode 01. REBEL1. Prod. By Blū Tha Gürū I would think it psychosomatic, but in less than 24 hours of restarting my vitamin regimen, my mood was so improved that I could not for a second overlook that without taking vitamins, I was missing something. Even if my newly concocted super-juice recipes were putting a curb in my abdominal muscles that even I was sure didn't entirely belong there, pairing this development with the Peloton, it was a long and diagonal, out-of-sorts thing that stuck out as if it was on somebody else's body and not mine. Still, I had to deal with the heavy weight of the drooping skin and belly that hung as if it very much did belong to me but wasn't budging, despite my attempts at a flat stomach and having been so well overstretched at one point by medical obesity and double occupancy that it was, at the very least to say, insurgically impossible. However, my brain went on having ways of wrapping my mind around this—that the rest of my body was quite slim, and even on some days seeming petite, were it not for my massive thighs, which also seemed to have sported a curve to them which was almost attractive, especially well-dressed. But the fun of it was, I wasn't exceptionally well-dressed, because I hadn't wanted to be. In fact, I was under obligation always to be about in the men's clothes I'd found because they were designer, and it was even something like a fashion statement that I dressed this grotesquely and in overlarge articles because of the astounding amount of weight I'd lost and the strange way my body seemed to be taking an athletic shape. Still, there was this factor that I was actually always somehow in an excruciating amount of pain, especially waking up, and though some of that I would have applied to being psychosomatic—in just that it was the pure stress of the disembodied torture I was undergoing in one way or another—whether anybody would have admitted it or not, or whether or not the unknown parties in question were going to be justified for it, I still hadn't an idea or thought as to what my unstructured purpose was. And though I sat beautifully controlled into doing music as a default, I was looking at the numbers, and the massive amount of people doing remarkably well because they could afford to do so, or were lucky, or were unbearably beautiful and so could do anything they wanted, and I too much so was not that. In fact, it was almost by design my failure and my constant struggle that even the universe seemed to look down upon me in such a way that it pitied me in a harrowing attempt at karmic justice done for the seeming evil and harsh things being done. It was true that someone had set out to torture me, and this might have once been the way of the illuminated artist and tortured soul; however, having taken so metaphorically into my own boat such heavy water of grief and loss, and drowning, I was sinking into the natural ocean of monstrous storms my body was saying in so many ways it could do no more. My mind was strong—and I could take the torture for innumerable amounts of time without becoming so much more frustrated than to just stop, or start heavy breathing, or even compulsively masturbate until one world faded deeply into another and I just didn't care. But realistically, the things that were being done pointed at a strategic and tactical, military-trained psychological governing of my own autonomy. And because I knew this, I also knew whoever was responsible was more than capable of covering their tracks to the point of disappearance—an inescapable hell of unseen trauma. The basis of it was that if I raised my concerns with any law enforcement or police, I was just as often ignored, ridiculed, or worse—thought of as symptomatic of some psychological condition I well knew and understood I did not have, all because what I did seem to possess—this undying force of color and creative ingenuity that could not quite be captured or marketed to improve the bankbook of others with a sudden onset—was unacceptable in such a way that I could become some sort of object that was in no way useful besides to experiment and then observe what I might become next, all the while knowing I would not and could not stay in one form or another too long without becoming such an obvious target. —Death of a Superstar DJ. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025 The Festival Project, Inc. ™ All rights reserved. Chroma111. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025. [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights reserved. UNAUTHORIZED REPRODUCTION OR DISTRIBUTION IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED BY LAW. INFRIGMENT IS PUNSHABLE BY FEDERAL LAW

Hi, i'm Russell Brand. No, get out. I'm sorry,I— ? Get out, get out! Are we trading kings for whistle! Sacred things and torturers? Lill bitz I started talking to this guy from tinder Then I quickly realized he only texted me at like 3 in the morning, like “come over” So I started texting him really weird shit— Like really weird. Like, I would make sure before I sent it, I would re-read it and be like “Ya, that's weird.” “That's really weird.” Every time, just read it to myself and be like “Ya that's giving “you're psycho” Right off the bat. Kate Winslet is so good at late night. She talks mad slow and answers every open ended question with a paragraph of thoughtless nonsense— finally, at the end of the paragraph, she answers the question in yes or no fashion; in this sense, you've completely forgotten the question through redirection. This has taken nearly five minutes. Genius. Amidst a story, she begins to slowly decrechendo until she's murmuring in a near whisper so you really have to try to pay attention to what she's saying, which is almost nothing. So considerably nothing, that you lose thought in trying to grasp and accept the words— this is excellent banter, because of course, she isn't really saying anything. This has taken another five minutes. Captivating. INT. DENTISTS OFFICE. DAY. Who is Claude Von Wastvermaan? KIMMEL Doctor Claude Von Wastverman. Okay. Who is that? KIMMEL It's me. I'm Claude Von Wastverman. Dr.— KIMMEL Yeah. It's me. KIMMEL Why are you— what? KIMMEL This is my office. …why? Because— I use specific research and target demographics to seek out people who have no interest in whatsoever watching my show and do not recognize me in any way actively seeking a dental practitioner— Why? KIMMEL Because! My audience loves me. They want to see me— they have to like me! So? KIMMEL These people don't know who I am. They don't want to see me—and there's a good chance, they won't like me at all. …this is how you spend your free time? KIMMEL —and some of my vacation days! Jesus. KIMMEL Yeah. I'm not alright! How much does this office space cost? KIMMEL You wouldn't like it. And—I take very limited insurance. Did you…study dentistry, at all, at any point? KIMMEL Not at all— Oh, Jesus. KIMMEL But Claude might have for a short time— online. These degrees look legitimate. KIMMEL He was a really good guy. Wait. What. [a rubber glove snaps] KIMMEL If you'll excuse me, I have an appointment coming in at 2:30. …you're kidding me. KIMMEL I'm not—and she's always early. Get out. Gladly. He opens the door and leads him out of the office, looking startled startled and shaking his head. KIMMEL Good afternoon, Mrs. Evanston. Perhaps I was just looking for something and my brain saw what it wanted to— but it kept coming around in ways that were stranger and stranger, and I couldn't explain the thought of it, like I was connected to something. Jimmy Slithered. But it's okay, Cause I hate to see him prosper. Wait a minute? Did it enter for a second in your head to what had happened? Very obviously is it just exactly as you'd imagined. Wait a moment; Give a little gift for winter's entrance— Suddenly you're hating Christmas, Just infected with this sort of hatred That's been creeping up on them for centuries. Very well, then Skrillex. Very well, played ventriloquist act at the Rock And how hardened are you, the heart of all non immortal and broken? Are you succumbed to never wonder either? Cratered. Disrespect and spills of want, Spools and spills and towers of yarn, You're getting broker every warrant. You're the dark and hadn't opened, Oh to be so charmed and wanted. Jimmy Slitheted, But I caught him creeping in the forest, Well, done, Harper— Now you've got yourself a story Jimmy Slithered, but that's good— I had him at the fortress, And all our audience would want Is fourth wall being broken. So here fals the house of cards! The house of cards The house of cards. And here folds the broken hand— The broken hand. The broken hand. And here calls the shattered wand, The crypted want, The shadowed trumpet horn, there! And there upon the hill, There did I grasp and fall to follow, Though the crown had not the king, The ground was sure to've caught him! And so I clasped with all my might and grip, The humble role of which that is This, Unrolled and uttered: Feast of kings, Be you what may of Prince and time and also my own brotherhood and making, There is, shadowed in my own dear marker, Yet another coming death upon us! How now, my ritual, of that and thy and they and I, To this my mark, And so I sang as this does not a number— My posture does find comfort here and tie my breath to grass from under, Striped and torn my cloth, as does in this my fortune gathers; There my fate and here to all, as wind becomes her mother, And though I call to all, but one I am, And then another. LEGAL NOTICE / ARTIST STATEMENT Project: The Festival Project ™ (Season 12) Genre: Speculative Auto-Ethnography / Social Surrealism Disclaimer: This document is a work of creative non-fiction and political satire. While inspired by the author's lived experiences with systemic oppression, housing displacement, and surveillance, the narrative employs stylized fragmentation, stream-of-consciousness, and metaphor to dramatize the psychological impact of these events. The "characters" and "dialogue" herein are artistic devices used to critique historical and modern power structures. This text should be viewed as a performative artistic expression protected under the First Amendment, and not as a literal transcript of clinical psychosis or a formal sworn affidavit. This is a character study of 'Chroma111,' the collective artworks of a musician living in a dystopian surveillance state. The erratic language is a stylistic choice to represent the character's psychological deterioration under systemic oppression. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Genre: "Afro-Surrealism" / "Social Horror" "Psycho-Acoustic Weaponry" or "Havana Syndrome symptoms." The Frame: The protagonist is subjected to "noise harassment"—a tactic dramatized here but rooted in the known reality of tenant displacement and "psychological attrition." The narrative depicts a process of "Soul Murder" ( also known as spiritual warfare) orchestrated by a hostile apparatus. The antagonist is "The Institution," representing deep-state mechanisms that view multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story allegorically dramatizes the invisible mechanisms that enforce racial hierarchy, depicting how broken social systems weaponize psychological practices against the individual. Artist's Note: This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as an artistic testament to the psychological siege endured from to 2023-2025. It is a creative record of survival against a hostile state architecture. The following is a creative non-fiction horror manifesto regarding the psychological assassination of a multicultural American artist. It documents—through the lens of Afro-Surrealism—how modern surveillance technology and sonic harassment are experienced by the targeted individual. As it stands It has become a modern sequel which mirrors the civil rights struggles of the 1960s, set in the present day. "The protagonist is being subjected to 'noise harassment'—a known tactic used by landlords and corrupt entities to displace tenants. The sound is weaponized to induce sleep deprivation and psychological attrition, dismantling of their ego and will to live, orchestrated by a hostile state apparatus. The antagonist in this piece is 'The Institution'—a deep state that views multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story dramatizes over time the invisible mechanisms (the 'Deep State') that enforce racial hierarchy and and psychological genocide, weaponizing broken social systems and unfounded psychological practices as biological weapons. This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as evidence of the psychological siege endured from 2023-2025. It is a transcript of survival against a hostile state architecture. This project spans an unlimited multiprojectoral arc of over two years of chronic violence, reaching into historical and theatrical projections and parallels over the all documented records of human existence through time and space. REBEL1. I am hypnotized; I am pain I am cryptonite I am in pain I am penalized; I am pinned l I am pinstripes on wide ties; I am Him. Pinterest, pintrest, pinholes And disinterest Centered sentiments And immigrants And ministrations, Images and insolence (And indulgences, patronages) Eclipses and rip titles, Paris Tiptons, And temptation Missing wages Push to shove and What are you doing, motherfucker?! To say the least, I'm a bit unconventional. Unexplainable joy And invisible ties and invincible triads Unimatatable charm, And prehensile times And forefathers before us Unpolished Well dressed hampers on leather and fortunes And doing and donuts and do this and don't-touches Mumbles of soft till and lunches and subtle distraction And coming construction Wages Ions I afford you To die now Like I want He's better at the body code Than old Colbert, He's one for one now Could this corrupt you— I didn't destroy her, I offered a suffix No longer for your number No longer for your hard times No longer for your warrants No longer No longer No four times Don't pan to the audience I'm a hole slow meltdown Don't man your own So wait, am I also telepathic? Yeah, that. Oh my! Is it like a two-way broadcast type— thing? Yeah, that part… Oh no, I'm so sorry. No you're not. You're right. I told you not to go looking into my thoughts. Check it all out, I bought prototypes Check it all out, I undug libraries Check it out, You're all alone at Walmart No longer working part time, The doors are closed and locked now, They're bound to stage a lock out You're better off on hard times You're better off on Lala Land No— Don't deport I want my art back No, don't deport; It's just a cake walk to apartheid, Remember mine now? Cheers to the world's longest monologues. Kudos to your picking up cabbage Remember the back for the wartimes The bagpipes have sounded; You're back to astonish us. No! I must have you a lesson; I'm back with my old will and testament No more Old Testament wanted I bought your sticks in Leviticus And so, Again– CUT TO: WILD PARTY. INT.EXT./WHENEVER HOW SICK IS THIS? NO! NOT THAT! I raised the dead from a half pipe I shoot the crowd out in foreign I can't remember my own Sam But I found one– For a dollar, For a wrong word And a hard song And a larger Go look, Now remember a rock star. Now that you're so stolen, Go back! You're unorthodox! Clear cut: you're a tragic Magic act– Now I'm back with a bag of tricks with my back out Learn your lessons. CUT BACK TO. INT./EXT. YO I'M SAYING A WIIIILD PARTY. WHENEVER YO, WHO DOES THIS?! What a party! I WANT TO GO HOME NOW! —I'M CALLING THE COPS! THIS IS YOUR HOUSE!!! {Enter The Multiverse} …And it's all house music all night. No, to that. Beg your pardon? I won't come. [The Festival Project ™ ] Now articulate your face muscles. My wat. Now you're bar banned. I had this at a festival once. What is it? A “whore salad” … All with a side of oxygen. Now you're in a tunnel. (A tunnel, a scone and a croissant) Now you're worse, warthog, immortal (Call your dad back, You're a bad son.) Now I'm out in the canyon With Chester McBadBat I got chest hair, And a straight out of the badlands Yes, I did mention this to my cousin Evan, But why ask that? So you heard everything I thought? Mmhmm. Hard times. —and everyone else? What is it like to have love man? I been locked out I'm a rock addict, But I'm damned now How's that fountain coming along? SUNNI BLU …it's just water. ARCHITECHT …yeah it's water. It's a fountain. SUNNI BLU —I WANT CHOCOLATE. Whose here? Not that guy! Four more beers? I just realized I never ever bought mine; I always had a tough guy. Box. What? Fight! I'm Eurovision And a hard remix— Ten minutes in and I realize I've already heard this. Oh yea, This Golden band of art, love and protection Perfection. Ohshea, shit! Who invited you? I got a 311 from Questlove!! Is that a beeper?! CUBE Since when are we on a first name basis? It would be weird to call you “ICE CUBE” Why's that? You. know? [the beeper goes off three more times] CUBE oh shit! What?! CUBE Nothin! Where the yard at?! sometimes it doesn't really matter Who the dialogue comes out of The whole point Is to put the art back into art projects Cause we all know it's been constructed And commercialized To the point of destruction And almost no promise For independent artists at all. So who is it with CUBE? Could be me. Could be you. Could be U— If it's not, It was all just a long lost passion project A collective God Complex. Give myself a hug Cause nobody else will God gave my case a Grace Cause somebody lost Will. Oh, Karen. Come, heart attack. Come karma, Come hot dogs Come Christmas time at the Plaza Come on, hard death. Come on. Hard Rock Hotel? Nah, Equinox. Alright. Hudson. Yards. Now you're in a tunnel Does your heart hurt? (You should clutch it.) Put your patchwork in a hard drive This is hard times, You can't come back. O! But they do take dear DRATCH and run with it! I go run along to Corrections, And ginger snaps for crosswords On hard workers So fax the whole document! Do you know what? Horcruxes! Hot lunches, yuck. Hockey! I want off this planet so bad I cross cross my fingers at crosswalks And oncoming trains but– Don't look either way before I walk. So pull a shotgun at all that I was one strong donkey before I got one address. Now I just redress the cause All I want is my bundle back. Yuck! Care for it at all? Yeah, yours, but she's a danger to humanity. Yeah, mine but I'm an honest hybrid horrid hunter. On time? I just got it at Sephora. On time, Like I never even got that. I want to be loved just to be looked at But since in this life I can't turn the clock back I've discovered it's hell that my body was born as. — I discovered it's hell that my body was born as. Such a problem when you know That even the great Rosie O'Donnell once wanted blue eyes. Now I forget where I trailed off… What a drawback. I'm all out of patience. Crypto, I tip toe now over eggshells No home for her Hard times And hard times. No code offered, No I don't fall for that'd But where's the snowfall over all the rot out back? Hard times. Hard times. Hard times. As the bell tolls And the well swells whole And the umpire does rack them Up; Nobody works harder than Hard times Hard times Hard times. Yeah, that's four Aces Up, Diamond. Run for your forks and your knives And your daughters and mothers and father And home family comfort And cufflinks and loafers, And sport coats and Your life. Your life. Your life. [The Festival Project ™] —-Chroma111. THE IMPENATRABLE TEN is INEVITABLY DISBANDED. Inevitably??? Inevitably! but not indefinitely. Oh, I guess. Alright. SILENCE. {Enter The Multiverse.} I don't want to be here. No one does. You are sending mixed messages. Imm not sending any messages… — with your brain. L E G E N D S Of course. Electromagnetic signaling Of course. I told you this had gone strange. Severely. Now how do I explain from this time how to get back to our time If there's no direct translation between our language and that one? Maybe you can't explain it. These are hard facts. So I suggest the use of highly trained telepaths. That far back? These things are possibly connected even in this time, theoretically using our past; I might suggest Telesynthesis— considering these planetary electromagnetics to which this entire planet is hardwired. …hardwired. That's right. Ascension. Hard times. Madame President? Get lost. [Secret President] I get it. You're a whistleblower. I'm not that. A shadow government official. Also wrong. Why else would you run for office? I'm trying to get shot at. They told me you were funny. But they didn't say anything about my gauntlet? Your—what? You know. My conquests—professional accomplishments? Your God complex? I know all about that. Perhaps it's not a complex. But a ‘gauntlet'? You're a journalist aren't you? I'm giving you some high art concepts. (Because for the sake of the rhyme, And please, for God's sakes, Gemini, In prose form Without the use of tables. ) I R O N I C —Deathwish. [The Festival Project ™] Season 12, Episode 01. REBEL1. Prod. By Blū Tha Gürū I would think it psychosomatic, but in less than 24 hours of restarting my vitamin regimen, my mood was so improved that I could not for a second overlook that without taking vitamins, I was missing something. Even if my newly concocted super-juice recipes were putting a curb in my abdominal muscles that even I was sure didn't entirely belong there, pairing this development with the Peloton, it was a long and diagonal, out-of-sorts thing that stuck out as if it was on somebody else's body and not mine. Still, I had to deal with the heavy weight of the drooping skin and belly that hung as if it very much did belong to me but wasn't budging, despite my attempts at a flat stomach and having been so well overstretched at one point by medical obesity and double occupancy that it was, at the very least to say, insurgically impossible. However, my brain went on having ways of wrapping my mind around this—that the rest of my body was quite slim, and even on some days seeming petite, were it not for my massive thighs, which also seemed to have sported a curve to them which was almost attractive, especially well-dressed. But the fun of it was, I wasn't exceptionally well-dressed, because I hadn't wanted to be. In fact, I was under obligation always to be about in the men's clothes I'd found because they were designer, and it was even something like a fashion statement that I dressed this grotesquely and in overlarge articles because of the astounding amount of weight I'd lost and the strange way my body seemed to be taking an athletic shape. Still, there was this factor that I was actually always somehow in an excruciating amount of pain, especially waking up, and though some of that I would have applied to being psychosomatic—in just that it was the pure stress of the disembodied torture I was undergoing in one way or another—whether anybody would have admitted it or not, or whether or not the unknown parties in question were going to be justified for it, I still hadn't an idea or thought as to what my unstructured purpose was. And though I sat beautifully controlled into doing music as a default, I was looking at the numbers, and the massive amount of people doing remarkably well because they could afford to do so, or were lucky, or were unbearably beautiful and so could do anything they wanted, and I too much so was not that. In fact, it was almost by design my failure and my constant struggle that even the universe seemed to look down upon me in such a way that it pitied me in a harrowing attempt at karmic justice done for the seeming evil and harsh things being done. It was true that someone had set out to torture me, and this might have once been the way of the illuminated artist and tortured soul; however, having taken so metaphorically into my own boat such heavy water of grief and loss, and drowning, I was sinking into the natural ocean of monstrous storms my body was saying in so many ways it could do no more. My mind was strong—and I could take the torture for innumerable amounts of time without becoming so much more frustrated than to just stop, or start heavy breathing, or even compulsively masturbate until one world faded deeply into another and I just didn't care. But realistically, the things that were being done pointed at a strategic and tactical, military-trained psychological governing of my own autonomy. And because I knew this, I also knew whoever was responsible was more than capable of covering their tracks to the point of disappearance—an inescapable hell of unseen trauma. The basis of it was that if I raised my concerns with any law enforcement or police, I was just as often ignored, ridiculed, or worse—thought of as symptomatic of some psychological condition I well knew and understood I did not have, all because what I did seem to possess—this undying force of color and creative ingenuity that could not quite be captured or marketed to improve the bankbook of others with a sudden onset—was unacceptable in such a way that I could become some sort of object that was in no way useful besides to experiment and then observe what I might become next, all the while knowing I would not and could not stay in one form or another too long without becoming such an obvious target. —Death of a Superstar DJ. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025 The Festival Project, Inc. ™ All rights reserved. Chroma111. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025. [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights reserved. UNAUTHORIZED REPRODUCTION OR DISTRIBUTION IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED BY LAW. INFRIGMENT IS PUNSHABLE BY FEDERAL LAW

Hi, i'm Russell Brand. No, get out. I'm sorry,I— ? Get out, get out! Are we trading kings for whistle! Sacred things and torturers? Lill bitz I started talking to this guy from tinder Then I quickly realized he only texted me at like 3 in the morning, like “come over” So I started texting him really weird shit— Like really weird. Like, I would make sure before I sent it, I would re-read it and be like “Ya, that's weird.” “That's really weird.” Every time, just read it to myself and be like “Ya that's giving “you're psycho” Right off the bat. Kate Winslet is so good at late night. She talks mad slow and answers every open ended question with a paragraph of thoughtless nonsense— finally, at the end of the paragraph, she answers the question in yes or no fashion; in this sense, you've completely forgotten the question through redirection. This has taken nearly five minutes. Genius. Amidst a story, she begins to slowly decrechendo until she's murmuring in a near whisper so you really have to try to pay attention to what she's saying, which is almost nothing. So considerably nothing, that you lose thought in trying to grasp and accept the words— this is excellent banter, because of course, she isn't really saying anything. This has taken another five minutes. Captivating. INT. DENTISTS OFFICE. DAY. Who is Claude Von Wastvermaan? KIMMEL Doctor Claude Von Wastverman. Okay. Who is that? KIMMEL It's me. I'm Claude Von Wastverman. Dr.— KIMMEL Yeah. It's me. KIMMEL Why are you— what? KIMMEL This is my office. …why? Because— I use specific research and target demographics to seek out people who have no interest in whatsoever watching my show and do not recognize me in any way actively seeking a dental practitioner— Why? KIMMEL Because! My audience loves me. They want to see me— they have to like me! So? KIMMEL These people don't know who I am. They don't want to see me—and there's a good chance, they won't like me at all. …this is how you spend your free time? KIMMEL —and some of my vacation days! Jesus. KIMMEL Yeah. I'm not alright! How much does this office space cost? KIMMEL You wouldn't like it. And—I take very limited insurance. Did you…study dentistry, at all, at any point? KIMMEL Not at all— Oh, Jesus. KIMMEL But Claude might have for a short time— online. These degrees look legitimate. KIMMEL He was a really good guy. Wait. What. [a rubber glove snaps] KIMMEL If you'll excuse me, I have an appointment coming in at 2:30. …you're kidding me. KIMMEL I'm not—and she's always early. Get out. Gladly. He opens the door and leads him out of the office, looking startled startled and shaking his head. KIMMEL Good afternoon, Mrs. Evanston. Perhaps I was just looking for something and my brain saw what it wanted to— but it kept coming around in ways that were stranger and stranger, and I couldn't explain the thought of it, like I was connected to something. Jimmy Slithered. But it's okay, Cause I hate to see him prosper. Wait a minute? Did it enter for a second in your head to what had happened? Very obviously is it just exactly as you'd imagined. Wait a moment; Give a little gift for winter's entrance— Suddenly you're hating Christmas, Just infected with this sort of hatred That's been creeping up on them for centuries. Very well, then Skrillex. Very well, played ventriloquist act at the Rock And how hardened are you, the heart of all non immortal and broken? Are you succumbed to never wonder either? Cratered. Disrespect and spills of want, Spools and spills and towers of yarn, You're getting broker every warrant. You're the dark and hadn't opened, Oh to be so charmed and wanted. Jimmy Slitheted, But I caught him creeping in the forest, Well, done, Harper— Now you've got yourself a story Jimmy Slithered, but that's good— I had him at the fortress, And all our audience would want Is fourth wall being broken. So here fals the house of cards! The house of cards The house of cards. And here folds the broken hand— The broken hand. The broken hand. And here calls the shattered wand, The crypted want, The shadowed trumpet horn, there! And there upon the hill, There did I grasp and fall to follow, Though the crown had not the king, The ground was sure to've caught him! And so I clasped with all my might and grip, The humble role of which that is This, Unrolled and uttered: Feast of kings, Be you what may of Prince and time and also my own brotherhood and making, There is, shadowed in my own dear marker, Yet another coming death upon us! How now, my ritual, of that and thy and they and I, To this my mark, And so I sang as this does not a number— My posture does find comfort here and tie my breath to grass from under, Striped and torn my cloth, as does in this my fortune gathers; There my fate and here to all, as wind becomes her mother, And though I call to all, but one I am, And then another. LEGAL NOTICE / ARTIST STATEMENT Project: The Festival Project ™ (Season 12) Genre: Speculative Auto-Ethnography / Social Surrealism Disclaimer: This document is a work of creative non-fiction and political satire. While inspired by the author's lived experiences with systemic oppression, housing displacement, and surveillance, the narrative employs stylized fragmentation, stream-of-consciousness, and metaphor to dramatize the psychological impact of these events. The "characters" and "dialogue" herein are artistic devices used to critique historical and modern power structures. This text should be viewed as a performative artistic expression protected under the First Amendment, and not as a literal transcript of clinical psychosis or a formal sworn affidavit. This is a character study of 'Chroma111,' the collective artworks of a musician living in a dystopian surveillance state. The erratic language is a stylistic choice to represent the character's psychological deterioration under systemic oppression. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Genre: "Afro-Surrealism" / "Social Horror" "Psycho-Acoustic Weaponry" or "Havana Syndrome symptoms." The Frame: The protagonist is subjected to "noise harassment"—a tactic dramatized here but rooted in the known reality of tenant displacement and "psychological attrition." The narrative depicts a process of "Soul Murder" ( also known as spiritual warfare) orchestrated by a hostile apparatus. The antagonist is "The Institution," representing deep-state mechanisms that view multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story allegorically dramatizes the invisible mechanisms that enforce racial hierarchy, depicting how broken social systems weaponize psychological practices against the individual. Artist's Note: This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as an artistic testament to the psychological siege endured from to 2023-2025. It is a creative record of survival against a hostile state architecture. The following is a creative non-fiction horror manifesto regarding the psychological assassination of a multicultural American artist. It documents—through the lens of Afro-Surrealism—how modern surveillance technology and sonic harassment are experienced by the targeted individual. As it stands It has become a modern sequel which mirrors the civil rights struggles of the 1960s, set in the present day. "The protagonist is being subjected to 'noise harassment'—a known tactic used by landlords and corrupt entities to displace tenants. The sound is weaponized to induce sleep deprivation and psychological attrition, dismantling of their ego and will to live, orchestrated by a hostile state apparatus. The antagonist in this piece is 'The Institution'—a deep state that views multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story dramatizes over time the invisible mechanisms (the 'Deep State') that enforce racial hierarchy and and psychological genocide, weaponizing broken social systems and unfounded psychological practices as biological weapons. This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as evidence of the psychological siege endured from 2023-2025. It is a transcript of survival against a hostile state architecture. This project spans an unlimited multiprojectoral arc of over two years of chronic violence, reaching into historical and theatrical projections and parallels over the all documented records of human existence through time and space. REBEL1. I am hypnotized; I am pain I am cryptonite I am in pain I am penalized; I am pinned l I am pinstripes on wide ties; I am Him. Pinterest, pintrest, pinholes And disinterest Centered sentiments And immigrants And ministrations, Images and insolence (And indulgences, patronages) Eclipses and rip titles, Paris Tiptons, And temptation Missing wages Push to shove and What are you doing, motherfucker?! To say the least, I'm a bit unconventional. Unexplainable joy And invisible ties and invincible triads Unimatatable charm, And prehensile times And forefathers before us Unpolished Well dressed hampers on leather and fortunes And doing and donuts and do this and don't-touches Mumbles of soft till and lunches and subtle distraction And coming construction Wages Ions I afford you To die now Like I want He's better at the body code Than old Colbert, He's one for one now Could this corrupt you— I didn't destroy her, I offered a suffix No longer for your number No longer for your hard times No longer for your warrants No longer No longer No four times Don't pan to the audience I'm a hole slow meltdown Don't man your own So wait, am I also telepathic? Yeah, that. Oh my! Is it like a two-way broadcast type— thing? Yeah, that part… Oh no, I'm so sorry. No you're not. You're right. I told you not to go looking into my thoughts. Check it all out, I bought prototypes Check it all out, I undug libraries Check it out, You're all alone at Walmart No longer working part time, The doors are closed and locked now, They're bound to stage a lock out You're better off on hard times You're better off on Lala Land No— Don't deport I want my art back No, don't deport; It's just a cake walk to apartheid, Remember mine now? Cheers to the world's longest monologues. Kudos to your picking up cabbage Remember the back for the wartimes The bagpipes have sounded; You're back to astonish us. No! I must have you a lesson; I'm back with my old will and testament No more Old Testament wanted I bought your sticks in Leviticus And so, Again– CUT TO: WILD PARTY. INT.EXT./WHENEVER HOW SICK IS THIS? NO! NOT THAT! I raised the dead from a half pipe I shoot the crowd out in foreign I can't remember my own Sam But I found one– For a dollar, For a wrong word And a hard song And a larger Go look, Now remember a rock star. Now that you're so stolen, Go back! You're unorthodox! Clear cut: you're a tragic Magic act– Now I'm back with a bag of tricks with my back out Learn your lessons. CUT BACK TO. INT./EXT. YO I'M SAYING A WIIIILD PARTY. WHENEVER YO, WHO DOES THIS?! What a party! I WANT TO GO HOME NOW! —I'M CALLING THE COPS! THIS IS YOUR HOUSE!!! {Enter The Multiverse} …And it's all house music all night. No, to that. Beg your pardon? I won't come. [The Festival Project ™ ] Now articulate your face muscles. My wat. Now you're bar banned. I had this at a festival once. What is it? A “whore salad” … All with a side of oxygen. Now you're in a tunnel. (A tunnel, a scone and a croissant) Now you're worse, warthog, immortal (Call your dad back, You're a bad son.) Now I'm out in the canyon With Chester McBadBat I got chest hair, And a straight out of the badlands Yes, I did mention this to my cousin Evan, But why ask that? So you heard everything I thought? Mmhmm. Hard times. —and everyone else? What is it like to have love man? I been locked out I'm a rock addict, But I'm damned now How's that fountain coming along? SUNNI BLU …it's just water. ARCHITECHT …yeah it's water. It's a fountain. SUNNI BLU —I WANT CHOCOLATE. Whose here? Not that guy! Four more beers? I just realized I never ever bought mine; I always had a tough guy. Box. What? Fight! I'm Eurovision And a hard remix— Ten minutes in and I realize I've already heard this. Oh yea, This Golden band of art, love and protection Perfection. Ohshea, shit! Who invited you? I got a 311 from Questlove!! Is that a beeper?! CUBE Since when are we on a first name basis? It would be weird to call you “ICE CUBE” Why's that? You. know? [the beeper goes off three more times] CUBE oh shit! What?! CUBE Nothin! Where the yard at?! sometimes it doesn't really matter Who the dialogue comes out of The whole point Is to put the art back into art projects Cause we all know it's been constructed And commercialized To the point of destruction And almost no promise For independent artists at all. So who is it with CUBE? Could be me. Could be you. Could be U— If it's not, It was all just a long lost passion project A collective God Complex. Give myself a hug Cause nobody else will God gave my case a Grace Cause somebody lost Will. Oh, Karen. Come, heart attack. Come karma, Come hot dogs Come Christmas time at the Plaza Come on, hard death. Come on. Hard Rock Hotel? Nah, Equinox. Alright. Hudson. Yards. Now you're in a tunnel Does your heart hurt? (You should clutch it.) Put your patchwork in a hard drive This is hard times, You can't come back. O! But they do take dear DRATCH and run with it! I go run along to Corrections, And ginger snaps for crosswords On hard workers So fax the whole document! Do you know what? Horcruxes! Hot lunches, yuck. Hockey! I want off this planet so bad I cross cross my fingers at crosswalks And oncoming trains but– Don't look either way before I walk. So pull a shotgun at all that I was one strong donkey before I got one address. Now I just redress the cause All I want is my bundle back. Yuck! Care for it at all? Yeah, yours, but she's a danger to humanity. Yeah, mine but I'm an honest hybrid horrid hunter. On time? I just got it at Sephora. On time, Like I never even got that. I want to be loved just to be looked at But since in this life I can't turn the clock back I've discovered it's hell that my body was born as. — I discovered it's hell that my body was born as. Such a problem when you know That even the great Rosie O'Donnell once wanted blue eyes. Now I forget where I trailed off… What a drawback. I'm all out of patience. Crypto, I tip toe now over eggshells No home for her Hard times And hard times. No code offered, No I don't fall for that'd But where's the snowfall over all the rot out back? Hard times. Hard times. Hard times. As the bell tolls And the well swells whole And the umpire does rack them Up; Nobody works harder than Hard times Hard times Hard times. Yeah, that's four Aces Up, Diamond. Run for your forks and your knives And your daughters and mothers and father And home family comfort And cufflinks and loafers, And sport coats and Your life. Your life. Your life. [The Festival Project ™] —-Chroma111. THE IMPENATRABLE TEN is INEVITABLY DISBANDED. Inevitably??? Inevitably! but not indefinitely. Oh, I guess. Alright. SILENCE. {Enter The Multiverse.} I don't want to be here. No one does. You are sending mixed messages. Imm not sending any messages… — with your brain. L E G E N D S Of course. Electromagnetic signaling Of course. I told you this had gone strange. Severely. Now how do I explain from this time how to get back to our time If there's no direct translation between our language and that one? Maybe you can't explain it. These are hard facts. So I suggest the use of highly trained telepaths. That far back? These things are possibly connected even in this time, theoretically using our past; I might suggest Telesynthesis— considering these planetary electromagnetics to which this entire planet is hardwired. …hardwired. That's right. Ascension. Hard times. Madame President? Get lost. [Secret President] I get it. You're a whistleblower. I'm not that. A shadow government official. Also wrong. Why else would you run for office? I'm trying to get shot at. They told me you were funny. But they didn't say anything about my gauntlet? Your—what? You know. My conquests—professional accomplishments? Your God complex? I know all about that. Perhaps it's not a complex. But a ‘gauntlet'? You're a journalist aren't you? I'm giving you some high art concepts. (Because for the sake of the rhyme, And please, for God's sakes, Gemini, In prose form Without the use of tables. ) I R O N I C —Deathwish. [The Festival Project ™] Season 12, Episode 01. REBEL1. Prod. By Blū Tha Gürū I would think it psychosomatic, but in less than 24 hours of restarting my vitamin regimen, my mood was so improved that I could not for a second overlook that without taking vitamins, I was missing something. Even if my newly concocted super-juice recipes were putting a curb in my abdominal muscles that even I was sure didn't entirely belong there, pairing this development with the Peloton, it was a long and diagonal, out-of-sorts thing that stuck out as if it was on somebody else's body and not mine. Still, I had to deal with the heavy weight of the drooping skin and belly that hung as if it very much did belong to me but wasn't budging, despite my attempts at a flat stomach and having been so well overstretched at one point by medical obesity and double occupancy that it was, at the very least to say, insurgically impossible. However, my brain went on having ways of wrapping my mind around this—that the rest of my body was quite slim, and even on some days seeming petite, were it not for my massive thighs, which also seemed to have sported a curve to them which was almost attractive, especially well-dressed. But the fun of it was, I wasn't exceptionally well-dressed, because I hadn't wanted to be. In fact, I was under obligation always to be about in the men's clothes I'd found because they were designer, and it was even something like a fashion statement that I dressed this grotesquely and in overlarge articles because of the astounding amount of weight I'd lost and the strange way my body seemed to be taking an athletic shape. Still, there was this factor that I was actually always somehow in an excruciating amount of pain, especially waking up, and though some of that I would have applied to being psychosomatic—in just that it was the pure stress of the disembodied torture I was undergoing in one way or another—whether anybody would have admitted it or not, or whether or not the unknown parties in question were going to be justified for it, I still hadn't an idea or thought as to what my unstructured purpose was. And though I sat beautifully controlled into doing music as a default, I was looking at the numbers, and the massive amount of people doing remarkably well because they could afford to do so, or were lucky, or were unbearably beautiful and so could do anything they wanted, and I too much so was not that. In fact, it was almost by design my failure and my constant struggle that even the universe seemed to look down upon me in such a way that it pitied me in a harrowing attempt at karmic justice done for the seeming evil and harsh things being done. It was true that someone had set out to torture me, and this might have once been the way of the illuminated artist and tortured soul; however, having taken so metaphorically into my own boat such heavy water of grief and loss, and drowning, I was sinking into the natural ocean of monstrous storms my body was saying in so many ways it could do no more. My mind was strong—and I could take the torture for innumerable amounts of time without becoming so much more frustrated than to just stop, or start heavy breathing, or even compulsively masturbate until one world faded deeply into another and I just didn't care. But realistically, the things that were being done pointed at a strategic and tactical, military-trained psychological governing of my own autonomy. And because I knew this, I also knew whoever was responsible was more than capable of covering their tracks to the point of disappearance—an inescapable hell of unseen trauma. The basis of it was that if I raised my concerns with any law enforcement or police, I was just as often ignored, ridiculed, or worse—thought of as symptomatic of some psychological condition I well knew and understood I did not have, all because what I did seem to possess—this undying force of color and creative ingenuity that could not quite be captured or marketed to improve the bankbook of others with a sudden onset—was unacceptable in such a way that I could become some sort of object that was in no way useful besides to experiment and then observe what I might become next, all the while knowing I would not and could not stay in one form or another too long without becoming such an obvious target. —Death of a Superstar DJ. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025 The Festival Project, Inc. ™ All rights reserved. Chroma111. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025. [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights reserved. UNAUTHORIZED REPRODUCTION OR DISTRIBUTION IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED BY LAW. INFRIGMENT IS PUNSHABLE BY FEDERAL LAW

EXT. CONCERT. DAY SUNNI BLU converses with CHARLES over a musical break STAGE LEFT of the MAINSTAGE. SUNNI BLU Thems the two prettiest girls right there. CHARLES yeah . ok. SUNNI BLU Grab em up. CHARLES What? SUNNI BLU Snatch em up. CHARLES Do you mean. SUNNI BLU Micheal Jackson style munich on that bitch. CHARLES What—? SUNNI BLU Them bitchez. CHARLES Are you saying—? SUNNI BLU They wont mind. CHARLES Uhhhh… SUNNI BLU I promise. watch . BOUNCER SUNNI's bodyguard BOUNCER crosses to center stage. SUNNI whispers into BOUNCER'S ear and he nods once and smirks; he then walks out into the crowd and picks up the two girls SUNNI aforementioned, tossing each of them over his shoulders, planting them on stage next to SUNNI; they scream and cry hysterically. SUNNI nods and smiles in self admiration and throws BOUNCER and CHARLES a thumbs up; CHARLES shakes his head slowly in disapproval, the GIRLS scream and cry hysterically; SUNNI grins and carries on about the show. CUT IMMEDIATELY TO: SUNNI BLU YO! I got mad lawsuits. MORGAN Plural? SUNNI BLU Like multiple! MORGAN well what were you expecting, sunni? Its 202#--? SUNNI BLU But michael is timeless! MORGAN And youre not michael jackson! SUNNI BLU You're right! I sold more records already than him! MORGAN ugh! PUBLICIST *does* {Enter The Multiverse} Hi, i'm Russell Brand. No, get out. I'm sorry,I— ? Get out, get out! Are we trading kings for whistle! Sacred things and torturers? Lill bitz I started talking to this guy from tinder Then I quickly realized he only texted me at like 3 in the morning, like “come over” So I started texting him really weird shit— Like really weird. Like, I would make sure before I sent it, I would re-read it and be like “Ya, that's weird.” “That's really weird.” Every time, just read it to myself and be like “Ya that's giving “you're psycho” Right off the bat. Kate Winslet is so good at late night. She talks mad slow and answers every open ended question with a paragraph of thoughtless nonsense— finally, at the end of the paragraph, she answers the question in yes or no fashion; in this sense, you've completely forgotten the question through redirection. This has taken nearly five minutes. Genius. Amidst a story, she begins to slowly decrechendo until she's murmuring in a near whisper so you really have to try to pay attention to what she's saying, which is almost nothing. So considerably nothing, that you lose thought in trying to grasp and accept the words— this is excellent banter, because of course, she isn't really saying anything. This has taken another five minutes. Captivating. INT. DENTISTS OFFICE. DAY. Who is Claude Von Wastvermaan? KIMMEL Doctor Claude Von Wastverman. Okay. Who is that? KIMMEL It's me. I'm Claude Von Wastverman. Dr.— KIMMEL Yeah. It's me. KIMMEL Why are you— what? KIMMEL This is my office. …why? Because— I use specific research and target demographics to seek out people who have no interest in whatsoever watching my show and do not recognize me in any way actively seeking a dental practitioner— Why? KIMMEL Because! My audience loves me. They want to see me— they have to like me! So? KIMMEL These people don't know who I am. They don't want to see me—and there's a good chance, they won't like me at all. …this is how you spend your free time? KIMMEL —and some of my vacation days! Jesus. KIMMEL Yeah. I'm not alright! How much does this office space cost? KIMMEL You wouldn't like it. And—I take very limited insurance. Did you…study dentistry, at all, at any point? KIMMEL Not at all— Oh, Jesus. KIMMEL But Claude might have for a short time— online. These degrees look legitimate. KIMMEL He was a really good guy. Wait. What. [a rubber glove snaps] KIMMEL If you'll excuse me, I have an appointment coming in at 2:30. …you're kidding me. KIMMEL I'm not—and she's always early. Get out. Gladly. He opens the door and leads him out of the office, looking startled startled and shaking his head. KIMMEL Good afternoon, Mrs. Evanston. Perhaps I was just looking for something and my brain saw what it wanted to— but it kept coming around in ways that were stranger and stranger, and I couldn't explain the thought of it, like I was connected to something. Jimmy Slithered. But it's okay, Cause I hate to see him prosper. Wait a minute? Did it enter for a second in your head to what had happened? Very obviously is it just exactly as you'd imagined. Wait a moment; Give a little gift for winter's entrance— Suddenly you're hating Christmas, Just infected with this sort of hatred That's been creeping up on them for centuries. Very well, then Skrillex. Very well, played ventriloquist act at the Rock And how hardened are you, the heart of all non immortal and broken? Are you succumbed to never wonder either? Cratered. Disrespect and spills of want, Spools and spills and towers of yarn, You're getting broker every warrant. You're the dark and hadn't opened, Oh to be so charmed and wanted. Jimmy Slitheted, But I caught him creeping in the forest, Well, done, Harper— Now you've got yourself a story Jimmy Slithered, but that's good— I had him at the fortress, And all our audience would want Is fourth wall being broken. So here fals the house of cards! The house of cards The house of cards. And here folds the broken hand— The broken hand. The broken hand. And here calls the shattered wand, The crypted want, The shadowed trumpet horn, there! And there upon the hill, There did I grasp and fall to follow, Though the crown had not the king, The ground was sure to've caught him! And so I clasped with all my might and grip, The humble role of which that is This, Unrolled and uttered: Feast of kings, Be you what may of Prince and time and also my own brotherhood and making, There is, shadowed in my own dear marker, Yet another coming death upon us! How now, my ritual, of that and thy and they and I, To this my mark, And so I sang as this does not a number— My posture does find comfort here and tie my breath to grass from under, Striped and torn my cloth, as does in this my fortune gathers; There my fate and here to all, as wind becomes her mother, And though I call to all, but one I am, And then another. LEGAL NOTICE / ARTIST STATEMENT Project: The Festival Project ™ (Season 12) Genre: Speculative Auto-Ethnography / Social Surrealism Disclaimer: This document is a work of creative non-fiction and political satire. While inspired by the author's lived experiences with systemic oppression, housing displacement, and surveillance, the narrative employs stylized fragmentation, stream-of-consciousness, and metaphor to dramatize the psychological impact of these events. The "characters" and "dialogue" herein are artistic devices used to critique historical and modern power structures. This text should be viewed as a performative artistic expression protected under the First Amendment, and not as a literal transcript of clinical psychosis or a formal sworn affidavit. This is a character study of 'Chroma111,' the collective artworks of a musician living in a dystopian surveillance state. The erratic language is a stylistic choice to represent the character's psychological deterioration under systemic oppression. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Genre: "Afro-Surrealism" / "Social Horror" "Psycho-Acoustic Weaponry" or "Havana Syndrome symptoms." The Frame: The protagonist is subjected to "noise harassment"—a tactic dramatized here but rooted in the known reality of tenant displacement and "psychological attrition." The narrative depicts a process of "Soul Murder" ( also known as spiritual warfare) orchestrated by a hostile apparatus. The antagonist is "The Institution," representing deep-state mechanisms that view multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story allegorically dramatizes the invisible mechanisms that enforce racial hierarchy, depicting how broken social systems weaponize psychological practices against the individual. Artist's Note: This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as an artistic testament to the psychological siege endured from to 2023-2025. It is a creative record of survival against a hostile state architecture. The following is a creative non-fiction horror manifesto regarding the psychological assassination of a multicultural American artist. It documents—through the lens of Afro-Surrealism—how modern surveillance technology and sonic harassment are experienced by the targeted individual. As it stands It has become a modern sequel which mirrors the civil rights struggles of the 1960s, set in the present day. "The protagonist is being subjected to 'noise harassment'—a known tactic used by landlords and corrupt entities to displace tenants. The sound is weaponized to induce sleep deprivation and psychological attrition, dismantling of their ego and will to live, orchestrated by a hostile state apparatus. The antagonist in this piece is 'The Institution'—a deep state that views multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story dramatizes over time the invisible mechanisms (the 'Deep State') that enforce racial hierarchy and and psychological genocide, weaponizing broken social systems and unfounded psychological practices as biological weapons. This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as evidence of the psychological siege endured from 2023-2025. It is a transcript of survival against a hostile state architecture. This project spans an unlimited multiprojectoral arc of over two years of chronic violence, reaching into historical and theatrical projections and parallels over the all documented records of human existence through time and space. REBEL1. I am hypnotized; I am pain I am cryptonite I am in pain I am penalized; I am pinned l I am pinstripes on wide ties; I am Him. Pinterest, pintrest, pinholes And disinterest Centered sentiments And immigrants And ministrations, Images and insolence (And indulgences, patronages) Eclipses and rip titles, Paris Tiptons, And temptation Missing wages Push to shove and What are you doing, motherfucker?! To say the least, I'm a bit unconventional. Unexplainable joy And invisible ties and invincible triads Unimatatable charm, And prehensile times And forefathers before us Unpolished Well dressed hampers on leather and fortunes And doing and donuts and do this and don't-touches Mumbles of soft till and lunches and subtle distraction And coming construction Wages Ions I afford you To die now Like I want He's better at the body code Than old Colbert, He's one for one now Could this corrupt you— I didn't destroy her, I offered a suffix No longer for your number No longer for your hard times No longer for your warrants No longer No longer No four times Don't pan to the audience I'm a hole slow meltdown Don't man your own So wait, am I also telepathic? Yeah, that. Oh my! Is it like a two-way broadcast type— thing? Yeah, that part… Oh no, I'm so sorry. No you're not. You're right. I told you not to go looking into my thoughts. Check it all out, I bought prototypes Check it all out, I undug libraries Check it out, You're all alone at Walmart No longer working part time, The doors are closed and locked now, They're bound to stage a lock out You're better off on hard times You're better off on Lala Land No— Don't deport I want my art back No, don't deport; It's just a cake walk to apartheid, Remember mine now? Cheers to the world's longest monologues. Kudos to your picking up cabbage Remember the back for the wartimes The bagpipes have sounded; You're back to astonish us. No! I must have you a lesson; I'm back with my old will and testament No more Old Testament wanted I bought your sticks in Leviticus And so, Again– CUT TO: WILD PARTY. INT.EXT./WHENEVER HOW SICK IS THIS? NO! NOT THAT! I raised the dead from a half pipe I shoot the crowd out in foreign I can't remember my own Sam But I found one– For a dollar, For a wrong word And a hard song And a larger Go look, Now remember a rock star. Now that you're so stolen, Go back! You're unorthodox! Clear cut: you're a tragic Magic act– Now I'm back with a bag of tricks with my back out Learn your lessons. CUT BACK TO. INT./EXT. YO I'M SAYING A WIIIILD PARTY. WHENEVER YO, WHO DOES THIS?! What a party! I WANT TO GO HOME NOW! —I'M CALLING THE COPS! THIS IS YOUR HOUSE!!! {Enter The Multiverse} …And it's all house music all night. No, to that. Beg your pardon? I won't come. [The Festival Project ™ ] Now articulate your face muscles. My wat. Now you're bar banned. I had this at a festival once. What is it? A “whore salad” … All with a side of oxygen. Now you're in a tunnel. (A tunnel, a scone and a croissant) Now you're worse, warthog, immortal (Call your dad back, You're a bad son.) Now I'm out in the canyon With Chester McBadBat I got chest hair, And a straight out of the badlands Yes, I did mention this to my cousin Evan, But why ask that? So you heard everything I thought? Mmhmm. Hard times. —and everyone else? What is it like to have love man? I been locked out I'm a rock addict, But I'm damned now How's that fountain coming along? SUNNI BLU …it's just water. ARCHITECHT …yeah it's water. It's a fountain. SUNNI BLU —I WANT CHOCOLATE. Whose here? Not that guy! Four more beers? I just realized I never ever bought mine; I always had a tough guy. Box. What? Fight! I'm Eurovision And a hard remix— Ten minutes in and I realize I've already heard this. Oh yea, This Golden band of art, love and protection Perfection. Ohshea, shit! Who invited you? I got a 311 from Questlove!! Is that a beeper?! CUBE Since when are we on a first name basis? It would be weird to call you “ICE CUBE” Why's that? You. know? [the beeper goes off three more times] CUBE oh shit! What?! CUBE Nothin! Where the yard at?! sometimes it doesn't really matter Who the dialogue comes out of The whole point Is to put the art back into art projects Cause we all know it's been constructed And commercialized To the point of destruction And almost no promise For independent artists at all. So who is it with CUBE? Could be me. Could be you. Could be U— If it's not, It was all just a long lost passion project A collective God Complex. Give myself a hug Cause nobody else will God gave my case a Grace Cause somebody lost Will. Oh, Karen. Come, heart attack. Come karma, Come hot dogs Come Christmas time at the Plaza Come on, hard death. Come on. Hard Rock Hotel? Nah, Equinox. Alright. Hudson. Yards. Now you're in a tunnel Does your heart hurt? (You should clutch it.) Put your patchwork in a hard drive This is hard times, You can't come back. O! But they do take dear DRATCH and run with it! I go run along to Corrections, And ginger snaps for crosswords On hard workers So fax the whole document! Do you know what? Horcruxes! Hot lunches, yuck. Hockey! I want off this planet so bad I cross cross my fingers at crosswalks And oncoming trains but– Don't look either way before I walk. So pull a shotgun at all that I was one strong donkey before I got one address. Now I just redress the cause All I want is my bundle back. Yuck! Care for it at all? Yeah, yours, but she's a danger to humanity. Yeah, mine but I'm an honest hybrid horrid hunter. On time? I just got it at Sephora. On time, Like I never even got that. I want to be loved just to be looked at But since in this life I can't turn the clock back I've discovered it's hell that my body was born as. — I discovered it's hell that my body was born as. Such a problem when you know That even the great Rosie O'Donnell once wanted blue eyes. Now I forget where I trailed off… What a drawback. I'm all out of patience. Crypto, I tip toe now over eggshells No home for her Hard times And hard times. No code offered, No I don't fall for that'd But where's the snowfall over all the rot out back? Hard times. Hard times. Hard times. As the bell tolls And the well swells whole And the umpire does rack them Up; Nobody works harder than Hard times Hard times Hard times. Yeah, that's four Aces Up, Diamond. Run for your forks and your knives And your daughters and mothers and father And home family comfort And cufflinks and loafers, And sport coats and Your life. Your life. Your life. [The Festival Project ™] —-Chroma111. THE IMPENATRABLE TEN is INEVITABLY DISBANDED. Inevitably??? Inevitably! but not indefinitely. Oh, I guess. Alright. SILENCE. {Enter The Multiverse.} I don't want to be here. No one does. You are sending mixed messages. Imm not sending any messages… — with your brain. L E G E N D S Of course. Electromagnetic signaling Of course. I told you this had gone strange. Severely. Now how do I explain from this time how to get back to our time If there's no direct translation between our language and that one? Maybe you can't explain it. These are hard facts. So I suggest the use of highly trained telepaths. That far back? These things are possibly connected even in this time, theoretically using our past; I might suggest Telesynthesis— considering these planetary electromagnetics to which this entire planet is hardwired. …hardwired. That's right. Ascension. Hard times. Madame President? Get lost. [Secret President] I get it. You're a whistleblower. I'm not that. A shadow government official. Also wrong. Why else would you run for office? I'm trying to get shot at. They told me you were funny. But they didn't say anything about my gauntlet? Your—what? You know. My conquests—professional accomplishments? Your God complex? I know all about that. Perhaps it's not a complex. But a ‘gauntlet'? You're a journalist aren't you? I'm giving you some high art concepts. (Because for the sake of the rhyme, And please, for God's sakes, Gemini, In prose form Without the use of tables. ) I R O N I C —Deathwish. [The Festival Project ™] Season 12, Episode 01. REBEL1. Prod. By Blū Tha Gürū I would think it psychosomatic, but in less than 24 hours of restarting my vitamin regimen, my mood was so improved that I could not for a second overlook that without taking vitamins, I was missing something. Even if my newly concocted super-juice recipes were putting a curb in my abdominal muscles that even I was sure didn't entirely belong there, pairing this development with the Peloton, it was a long and diagonal, out-of-sorts thing that stuck out as if it was on somebody else's body and not mine. Still, I had to deal with the heavy weight of the drooping skin and belly that hung as if it very much did belong to me but wasn't budging, despite my attempts at a flat stomach and having been so well overstretched at one point by medical obesity and double occupancy that it was, at the very least to say, insurgically impossible. However, my brain went on having ways of wrapping my mind around this—that the rest of my body was quite slim, and even on some days seeming petite, were it not for my massive thighs, which also seemed to have sported a curve to them which was almost attractive, especially well-dressed. But the fun of it was, I wasn't exceptionally well-dressed, because I hadn't wanted to be. In fact, I was under obligation always to be about in the men's clothes I'd found because they were designer, and it was even something like a fashion statement that I dressed this grotesquely and in overlarge articles because of the astounding amount of weight I'd lost and the strange way my body seemed to be taking an athletic shape. Still, there was this factor that I was actually always somehow in an excruciating amount of pain, especially waking up, and though some of that I would have applied to being psychosomatic—in just that it was the pure stress of the disembodied torture I was undergoing in one way or another—whether anybody would have admitted it or not, or whether or not the unknown parties in question were going to be justified for it, I still hadn't an idea or thought as to what my unstructured purpose was. And though I sat beautifully controlled into doing music as a default, I was looking at the numbers, and the massive amount of people doing remarkably well because they could afford to do so, or were lucky, or were unbearably beautiful and so could do anything they wanted, and I too much so was not that. In fact, it was almost by design my failure and my constant struggle that even the universe seemed to look down upon me in such a way that it pitied me in a harrowing attempt at karmic justice done for the seeming evil and harsh things being done. It was true that someone had set out to torture me, and this might have once been the way of the illuminated artist and tortured soul; however, having taken so metaphorically into my own boat such heavy water of grief and loss, and drowning, I was sinking into the natural ocean of monstrous storms my body was saying in so many ways it could do no more. My mind was strong—and I could take the torture for innumerable amounts of time without becoming so much more frustrated than to just stop, or start heavy breathing, or even compulsively masturbate until one world faded deeply into another and I just didn't care. But realistically, the things that were being done pointed at a strategic and tactical, military-trained psychological governing of my own autonomy. And because I knew this, I also knew whoever was responsible was more than capable of covering their tracks to the point of disappearance—an inescapable hell of unseen trauma. The basis of it was that if I raised my concerns with any law enforcement or police, I was just as often ignored, ridiculed, or worse—thought of as symptomatic of some psychological condition I well knew and understood I did not have, all because what I did seem to possess—this undying force of color and creative ingenuity that could not quite be captured or marketed to improve the bankbook of others with a sudden onset—was unacceptable in such a way that I could become some sort of object that was in no way useful besides to experiment and then observe what I might become next, all the while knowing I would not and could not stay in one form or another too long without becoming such an obvious target. —Death of a Superstar DJ. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025 The Festival Project, Inc. ™ All rights reserved. Chroma111. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025. [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights reserved. UNAUTHORIZED REPRODUCTION OR DISTRIBUTION IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED BY LAW. INFRIGMENT IS PUNSHABLE BY FEDERAL LAW

LEGAL NOTICE / ARTIST STATEMENT Project: The Festival Project ™ (Season 12) Genre: Speculative Auto-Ethnography / Social Surrealism Disclaimer: This document is a work of creative non-fiction and political satire. While inspired by the author's lived experiences with systemic oppression, housing displacement, and surveillance, the narrative employs stylized fragmentation, stream-of-consciousness, and metaphor to dramatize the psychological impact of these events. The "characters" and "dialogue" herein are artistic devices used to critique historical and modern power structures. This text should be viewed as a performative artistic expression protected under the First Amendment, and not as a literal transcript of clinical psychosis or a formal sworn affidavit. This is a character study of 'Chroma111,' the collective artworks of a musician living in a dystopian surveillance state. The erratic language is a stylistic choice to represent the character's psychological deterioration under systemic oppression. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Frame: The protagonist is subjected to "noise harassment"—a tactic dramatized here but rooted in the known reality of tenant displacement and "psychological attrition." The narrative depicts a process of "Soul Murder" ( also known as spiritual warfare or sociopolitical targeting) orchestrated by a hostile apparatus. The antagonist is "The Institution," representing deep-state mechanisms that view multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story allegorically dramatizes the invisible mechanisms that enforce racial hierarchy, depicting how broken social systems weaponize psychological practices against the individual. Artist's Note: This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as an artistic testament to the psychological siege endured from to 2023-2025. It is a creative record of survival against a hostile state architecture. The following is a creative non-fiction horror manifesto regarding the psychological assassination of a multicultural American artist. It documents—through the lens of Afro-Surrealism—how modern surveillance technology and sonic harassment are experienced by a targeted individual. As it stands, It has become a modern sequel which adequately and astonishingly mirrors the civil rights struggles of the 1960s, set in the present day. "The protagonist is being subjected to 'noise harassment'—a known tactic used by landlords and corrupt entities to displace tenants for financial and political gain. The sound is weaponized to induce sleep deprivation and psychological attrition, dismantling of their ego and will to live, orchestrated by a hostile state apparatus. The story dramatizes over time the invisible mechanisms (the 'Deep State') that enforce racial hierarchy and and psychological genocide, weaponizing broken social systems and unfounded psychological practices as biological weapons. This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as evidence of the psychological siege endured from 2023-2025. It is a transcript of survival against a hostile state architecture. This project spans an unlimited multiprojectoral arc of over two years of chronic tactical violence, reaching into historical and theatrical projections and parallels over the all documented records of human existence through time and space. REBEL1. I am hypnotized; I am pain I am cryptonite I am in pain I am penalized; I am pinned l I am pinstripes on wide ties; I am Him. Pinterest, pintrest, pinholes And disinterest Centered sentiments And immigrants And ministrations, Images and insolence (And indulgences, patronages) Eclipses and rip titles, Paris Tiptons, And temptation Missing wages Push to shove and What are you doing, motherfucker?! To say the least, I'm a bit unconventional. Unexplainable joy And invisible ties and invincible triads Unimatatable charm, And prehensile times And forefathers before us Unpolished Well dressed hampers on leather and fortunes And doing and donuts and do this and don't-touches Mumbles of soft till and lunches and subtle distraction And coming construction Wages Ions I afford you To die now Like I want He's better at the body code Than old Colbert, He's one for one now Could this corrupt you— I didn't destroy her, I offered a suffix No longer for your number No longer for your hard times No longer for your warrants No longer No longer No four times Don't pan to the audience I'm a hole slow meltdown Don't man your own So wait, am I also telepathic? Yeah, that. Oh my! Is it like a two-way broadcast type— thing? Yeah, that part… Oh no, I'm so sorry. No you're not. You're right. I told you not to go looking into my thoughts. Check it all out, I bought prototypes Check it all out, I undug libraries Check it out, You're all alone at Walmart No longer working part time, The doors are closed and locked now, They're bound to stage a lock out You're better off on hard times You're better off on Lala Land No— Don't deport I want my art back No, don't deport; It's just a cake walk to apartheid, Remember mine now? Cheers to the world's longest monologues. Kudos to your picking up cabbage Remember the back for the wartimes The bagpipes have sounded; You're back to astonish us. No! I must have you a lesson; I'm back with my old will and testament No more Old Testament wanted I bought your sticks in Leviticus And so, Again– CUT TO: WILD PARTY. INT.EXT./WHENEVER HOW SICK IS THIS? NO! NOT THAT! I raised the dead from a half pipe I shoot the crowd out in foreign I can't remember my own Sam But I found one– For a dollar, For a wrong word And a hard song And a larger Go look, Now remember a rock star. Now that you're so stolen, Go back! You're unorthodox! Clear cut: you're a tragic Magic act– Now I'm back with a bag of tricks with my back out Learn your lessons. CUT BACK TO. INT./EXT. YO I'M SAYING A WIIIILD PARTY. WHENEVER YO, WHO DOES THIS?! What a party! I WANT TO GO HOME NOW! —I'M CALLING THE COPS! THIS IS YOUR HOUSE!!! {Enter The Multiverse} …And it's all house music all night. No, to that. Beg your pardon? I won't come. [The Festival Project ™ ] Now articulate your face muscles. My wat. Now you're bar banned. I had this at a festival once. What is it? A “whore salad” … All with a side of oxygen. Now you're in a tunnel. (A tunnel, a scone and a croissant) Now you're worse, warthog, immortal (Call your dad back, You're a bad son.) Now I'm out in the canyon With Chester McBadBat I got chest hair, And a straight out of the badlands Yes, I did mention this to my cousin Evan, But why ask that? So you heard everything I thought? Mmhmm. Hard times. —and everyone else? What is it like to have love man? I been locked out I'm a rock addict, But I'm damned now How's that fountain coming along? SUNNI BLU …it's just water. ARCHITECHT …yeah it's water. It's a fountain. SUNNI BLU —I WANT CHOCOLATE. Whose here? Not that guy! Four more beers? I just realized I never ever bought mine; I always had a tough guy. Box. What? Fight! I'm Eurovision And a hard remix— Ten minutes in and I realize I've already heard this. Oh yea, This Golden band of art, love and protection Perfection. Ohshea, shit! Who invited you? I got a 311 from Questlove!! Is that a beeper?! CUBE Since when are we on a first name basis? It would be weird to call you “ICE CUBE” Why's that? You. know? [the beeper goes off three more times] CUBE oh shit! What?! CUBE Nothin! Where the yard at?! sometimes it doesn't really matter Who the dialogue comes out of The whole point Is to put the art back into art projects Cause we all know it's been constructed And commercialized To the point of destruction And almost no promise For independent artists at all. So who is it with CUBE? Could be me. Could be you. Could be U— If it's not, It was all just a long lost passion project A collective God Complex. Give myself a hug Cause nobody else will God gave my case a Grace Cause somebody lost Will. Oh, Karen. Come, heart attack. Come karma, Come hot dogs Come Christmas time at the Plaza Come on, hard death. Come on. Hard Rock Hotel? Nah, Equinox. Alright. Hudson. Yards. Now you're in a tunnel Does your heart hurt? (You should clutch it.) Put your patchwork in a hard drive This is hard times, You can't come back. O! But they do take dear DRATCH and run with it! I go run along to Corrections, And ginger snaps for crosswords On hard workers So fax the whole document! Do you know what? Horcruxes! Hot lunches, yuck. Hockey! I want off this planet so bad I cross cross my fingers at crosswalks And oncoming trains but– Don't look either way before I walk. So pull a shotgun at all that I was one strong donkey before I got one address. Now I just redress the cause All I want is my bundle back. Yuck! Care for it at all? Yeah, yours, but she's a danger to humanity. Yeah, mine but I'm an honest hybrid horrid hunter. On time? I just got it at Sephora. On time, Like I never even got that. I want to be loved just to be looked at But since in this life I can't turn the clock back I've discovered it's hell that my body was born as. — I discovered it's hell that my body was born as. Such a problem when you know That even the great Rosie O'Donnell once wanted blue eyes. Now I forget where I trailed off… What a drawback. I'm all out of patience. Crypto, I tip toe now over eggshells No home for her Hard times And hard times. No code offered, No I don't fall for that'd But where's the snowfall over all the rot out back? Hard times. Hard times. Hard times. As the bell tolls And the well swells whole And the umpire does rack them Up; Nobody works harder than Hard times Hard times Hard times. Yeah, that's four Aces Up, Diamond. Run for your forks and your knives And your daughters and mothers and father And home family comfort And cufflinks and loafers, And sport coats and Your life. Your life. Your life. [The Festival Project ™] —-Chroma111. THE IMPENATRABLE TEN is INEVITABLY DISBANDED. Inevitably??? Inevitably! but not indefinitely. Oh, I guess. Alright. SILENCE. {Enter The Multiverse.} I don't want to be here. No one does. You are sending mixed messages. Imm not sending any messages… — with your brain. L E G E N D S Of course. Electromagnetic signaling Of course. I told you this had gone strange. Severely. Now how do I explain from this time how to get back to our time If there's no direct translation between our language and that one? Maybe you can't explain it. These are hard facts. So I suggest the use of highly trained telepaths. That far back? These things are possibly connected even in this time, theoretically using our past; I might suggest Telesynthesis— considering these planetary electromagnetics to which this entire planet is hardwired. …hardwired. That's right. Ascension. Hard times. Madame President? Get lost. [Secret President] I get it. You're a whistleblower. I'm not that. A shadow government official. Also wrong. Why else would you run for office? I'm trying to get shot at. They told me you were funny. But they didn't say anything about my gauntlet? Your—what? You know. My conquests—professional accomplishments? Your God complex? I know all about that. Perhaps it's not a complex. But a ‘gauntlet'? You're a journalist aren't you? I'm giving you some high art concepts. (Because for the sake of the rhyme, And please, for God's sakes, Gemini, In prose form Without the use of tables. ) I R O N I C —Deathwish. [The Festival Project ™] Season 12, Episode 01. REBEL1. Prod. By Blū Tha Gürū I would think it psychosomatic, but in less than 24 hours of restarting my vitamin regimen, my mood was so improved that I could not for a second overlook that without taking vitamins, I was missing something. Even if my newly concocted super-juice recipes were putting a curb in my abdominal muscles that even I was sure didn't entirely belong there, pairing this development with the Peloton, it was a long and diagonal, out-of-sorts thing that stuck out as if it was on somebody else's body and not mine. Still, I had to deal with the heavy weight of the drooping skin and belly that hung as if it very much did belong to me but wasn't budging, despite my attempts at a flat stomach and having been so well overstretched at one point by medical obesity and double occupancy that it was, at the very least to say, insurgically impossible. However, my brain went on having ways of wrapping my mind around this—that the rest of my body was quite slim, and even on some days seeming petite, were it not for my massive thighs, which also seemed to have sported a curve to them which was almost attractive, especially well-dressed. But the fun of it was, I wasn't exceptionally well-dressed, because I hadn't wanted to be. In fact, I was under obligation always to be about in the men's clothes I'd found because they were designer, and it was even something like a fashion statement that I dressed this grotesquely and in overlarge articles because of the astounding amount of weight I'd lost and the strange way my body seemed to be taking an athletic shape. Still, there was this factor that I was actually always somehow in an excruciating amount of pain, especially waking up, and though some of that I would have applied to being psychosomatic—in just that it was the pure stress of the disembodied torture I was undergoing in one way or another—whether anybody would have admitted it or not, or whether or not the unknown parties in question were going to be justified for it, I still hadn't an idea or thought as to what my unstructured purpose was. And though I sat beautifully controlled into doing music as a default, I was looking at the numbers, and the massive amount of people doing remarkably well because they could afford to do so, or were lucky, or were unbearably beautiful and so could do anything they wanted, and I too much so was not that. In fact, it was almost by design my failure and my constant struggle that even the universe seemed to look down upon me in such a way that it pitied me in a harrowing attempt at karmic justice done for the seeming evil and harsh things being done. It was true that someone had set out to torture me, and this might have once been the way of the illuminated artist and tortured soul; however, having taken so metaphorically into my own boat such heavy water of grief and loss, and drowning, I was sinking into the natural ocean of monstrous storms my body was saying in so many ways it could do no more. My mind was strong—and I could take the torture for innumerable amounts of time without becoming so much more frustrated than to just stop, or start heavy breathing, or even compulsively masturbate until one world faded deeply into another and I just didn't care. But realistically, the things that were being done pointed at a strategic and tactical, military-trained psychological governing of my own autonomy. And because I knew this, I also knew whoever was responsible was more than capable of covering their tracks to the point of disappearance—an inescapable hell of unseen trauma. The basis of it was that if I raised my concerns with any law enforcement or police, I was just as often ignored, ridiculed, or worse—thought of as symptomatic of some psychological condition I well knew and understood I did not have, all because what I did seem to possess—this undying force of color and creative ingenuity that could not quite be captured or marketed to improve the bankbook of others with a sudden onset—was unacceptable in such a way that I could become some sort of object that was in no way useful besides to experiment and then observe what I might become next, all the while knowing I would not and could not stay in one form or another too long without becoming such an obvious target. —Death of a Superstar DJ. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025 The Festival Project, Inc. ™ All rights reserved. Chroma111. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025. [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights reserved. UNAUTHORIZED REPRODUCTION OR DISTRIBUTION IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED BY LAW. INFRIGMENT IS PUNSHABLE BY FEDERAL LAW

LEGAL NOTICE / ARTIST STATEMENT Project: The Festival Project ™ (Season 12) Genre: Speculative Auto-Ethnography / Social Surrealism Disclaimer: This document is a work of creative non-fiction and political satire. While inspired by the author's lived experiences with systemic oppression, housing displacement, and surveillance, the narrative employs stylized fragmentation, stream-of-consciousness, and metaphor to dramatize the psychological impact of these events. The "characters" and "dialogue" herein are artistic devices used to critique historical and modern power structures. This text should be viewed as a performative artistic expression protected under the First Amendment, and not as a literal transcript of clinical psychosis or a formal sworn affidavit. This is a character study of 'Chroma111,' the collective artworks of a musician living in a dystopian surveillance state. The erratic language is a stylistic choice to represent the character's psychological deterioration under systemic oppression. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Frame: The protagonist is subjected to "noise harassment"—a tactic dramatized here but rooted in the known reality of tenant displacement and "psychological attrition." The narrative depicts a process of "Soul Murder" ( also known as spiritual warfare or sociopolitical targeting) orchestrated by a hostile apparatus. The antagonist is "The Institution," representing deep-state mechanisms that view multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story allegorically dramatizes the invisible mechanisms that enforce racial hierarchy, depicting how broken social systems weaponize psychological practices against the individual. Artist's Note: This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as an artistic testament to the psychological siege endured from to 2023-2025. It is a creative record of survival against a hostile state architecture. The following is a creative non-fiction horror manifesto regarding the psychological assassination of a multicultural American artist. It documents—through the lens of Afro-Surrealism—how modern surveillance technology and sonic harassment are experienced by a targeted individual. As it stands, It has become a modern sequel which adequately and astonishingly mirrors the civil rights struggles of the 1960s, set in the present day. "The protagonist is being subjected to 'noise harassment'—a known tactic used by landlords and corrupt entities to displace tenants for financial and political gain. The sound is weaponized to induce sleep deprivation and psychological attrition, dismantling of their ego and will to live, orchestrated by a hostile state apparatus. The story dramatizes over time the invisible mechanisms (the 'Deep State') that enforce racial hierarchy and and psychological genocide, weaponizing broken social systems and unfounded psychological practices as biological weapons. This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as evidence of the psychological siege endured from 2023-2025. It is a transcript of survival against a hostile state architecture. This project spans an unlimited multiprojectoral arc of over two years of chronic tactical violence, reaching into historical and theatrical projections and parallels over the all documented records of human existence through time and space. REBEL1. I am hypnotized; I am pain I am cryptonite I am in pain I am penalized; I am pinned l I am pinstripes on wide ties; I am Him. Pinterest, pintrest, pinholes And disinterest Centered sentiments And immigrants And ministrations, Images and insolence (And indulgences, patronages) Eclipses and rip titles, Paris Tiptons, And temptation Missing wages Push to shove and What are you doing, motherfucker?! To say the least, I'm a bit unconventional. Unexplainable joy And invisible ties and invincible triads Unimatatable charm, And prehensile times And forefathers before us Unpolished Well dressed hampers on leather and fortunes And doing and donuts and do this and don't-touches Mumbles of soft till and lunches and subtle distraction And coming construction Wages Ions I afford you To die now Like I want He's better at the body code Than old Colbert, He's one for one now Could this corrupt you— I didn't destroy her, I offered a suffix No longer for your number No longer for your hard times No longer for your warrants No longer No longer No four times Don't pan to the audience I'm a hole slow meltdown Don't man your own So wait, am I also telepathic? Yeah, that. Oh my! Is it like a two-way broadcast type— thing? Yeah, that part… Oh no, I'm so sorry. No you're not. You're right. I told you not to go looking into my thoughts. Check it all out, I bought prototypes Check it all out, I undug libraries Check it out, You're all alone at Walmart No longer working part time, The doors are closed and locked now, They're bound to stage a lock out You're better off on hard times You're better off on Lala Land No— Don't deport I want my art back No, don't deport; It's just a cake walk to apartheid, Remember mine now? Cheers to the world's longest monologues. Kudos to your picking up cabbage Remember the back for the wartimes The bagpipes have sounded; You're back to astonish us. No! I must have you a lesson; I'm back with my old will and testament No more Old Testament wanted I bought your sticks in Leviticus And so, Again– CUT TO: WILD PARTY. INT.EXT./WHENEVER HOW SICK IS THIS? NO! NOT THAT! I raised the dead from a half pipe I shoot the crowd out in foreign I can't remember my own Sam But I found one– For a dollar, For a wrong word And a hard song And a larger Go look, Now remember a rock star. Now that you're so stolen, Go back! You're unorthodox! Clear cut: you're a tragic Magic act– Now I'm back with a bag of tricks with my back out Learn your lessons. CUT BACK TO. INT./EXT. YO I'M SAYING A WIIIILD PARTY. WHENEVER YO, WHO DOES THIS?! What a party! I WANT TO GO HOME NOW! —I'M CALLING THE COPS! THIS IS YOUR HOUSE!!! {Enter The Multiverse} …And it's all house music all night. No, to that. Beg your pardon? I won't come. [The Festival Project ™ ] Now articulate your face muscles. My wat. Now you're bar banned. I had this at a festival once. What is it? A “whore salad” … All with a side of oxygen. Now you're in a tunnel. (A tunnel, a scone and a croissant) Now you're worse, warthog, immortal (Call your dad back, You're a bad son.) Now I'm out in the canyon With Chester McBadBat I got chest hair, And a straight out of the badlands Yes, I did mention this to my cousin Evan, But why ask that? So you heard everything I thought? Mmhmm. Hard times. —and everyone else? What is it like to have love man? I been locked out I'm a rock addict, But I'm damned now How's that fountain coming along? SUNNI BLU …it's just water. ARCHITECHT …yeah it's water. It's a fountain. SUNNI BLU —I WANT CHOCOLATE. Whose here? Not that guy! Four more beers? I just realized I never ever bought mine; I always had a tough guy. Box. What? Fight! I'm Eurovision And a hard remix— Ten minutes in and I realize I've already heard this. Oh yea, This Golden band of art, love and protection Perfection. Ohshea, shit! Who invited you? I got a 311 from Questlove!! Is that a beeper?! CUBE Since when are we on a first name basis? It would be weird to call you “ICE CUBE” Why's that? You. know? [the beeper goes off three more times] CUBE oh shit! What?! CUBE Nothin! Where the yard at?! sometimes it doesn't really matter Who the dialogue comes out of The whole point Is to put the art back into art projects Cause we all know it's been constructed And commercialized To the point of destruction And almost no promise For independent artists at all. So who is it with CUBE? Could be me. Could be you. Could be U— If it's not, It was all just a long lost passion project A collective God Complex. Give myself a hug Cause nobody else will God gave my case a Grace Cause somebody lost Will. Oh, Karen. Come, heart attack. Come karma, Come hot dogs Come Christmas time at the Plaza Come on, hard death. Come on. Hard Rock Hotel? Nah, Equinox. Alright. Hudson. Yards. Now you're in a tunnel Does your heart hurt? (You should clutch it.) Put your patchwork in a hard drive This is hard times, You can't come back. O! But they do take dear DRATCH and run with it! I go run along to Corrections, And ginger snaps for crosswords On hard workers So fax the whole document! Do you know what? Horcruxes! Hot lunches, yuck. Hockey! I want off this planet so bad I cross cross my fingers at crosswalks And oncoming trains but– Don't look either way before I walk. So pull a shotgun at all that I was one strong donkey before I got one address. Now I just redress the cause All I want is my bundle back. Yuck! Care for it at all? Yeah, yours, but she's a danger to humanity. Yeah, mine but I'm an honest hybrid horrid hunter. On time? I just got it at Sephora. On time, Like I never even got that. I want to be loved just to be looked at But since in this life I can't turn the clock back I've discovered it's hell that my body was born as. — I discovered it's hell that my body was born as. Such a problem when you know That even the great Rosie O'Donnell once wanted blue eyes. Now I forget where I trailed off… What a drawback. I'm all out of patience. Crypto, I tip toe now over eggshells No home for her Hard times And hard times. No code offered, No I don't fall for that'd But where's the snowfall over all the rot out back? Hard times. Hard times. Hard times. As the bell tolls And the well swells whole And the umpire does rack them Up; Nobody works harder than Hard times Hard times Hard times. Yeah, that's four Aces Up, Diamond. Run for your forks and your knives And your daughters and mothers and father And home family comfort And cufflinks and loafers, And sport coats and Your life. Your life. Your life. [The Festival Project ™] —-Chroma111. THE IMPENATRABLE TEN is INEVITABLY DISBANDED. Inevitably??? Inevitably! but not indefinitely. Oh, I guess. Alright. SILENCE. {Enter The Multiverse.} I don't want to be here. No one does. You are sending mixed messages. Imm not sending any messages… — with your brain. L E G E N D S Of course. Electromagnetic signaling Of course. I told you this had gone strange. Severely. Now how do I explain from this time how to get back to our time If there's no direct translation between our language and that one? Maybe you can't explain it. These are hard facts. So I suggest the use of highly trained telepaths. That far back? These things are possibly connected even in this time, theoretically using our past; I might suggest Telesynthesis— considering these planetary electromagnetics to which this entire planet is hardwired. …hardwired. That's right. Ascension. Hard times. Madame President? Get lost. [Secret President] I get it. You're a whistleblower. I'm not that. A shadow government official. Also wrong. Why else would you run for office? I'm trying to get shot at. They told me you were funny. But they didn't say anything about my gauntlet? Your—what? You know. My conquests—professional accomplishments? Your God complex? I know all about that. Perhaps it's not a complex. But a ‘gauntlet'? You're a journalist aren't you? I'm giving you some high art concepts. (Because for the sake of the rhyme, And please, for God's sakes, Gemini, In prose form Without the use of tables. ) I R O N I C —Deathwish. [The Festival Project ™] Season 12, Episode 01. REBEL1. Prod. By Blū Tha Gürū I would think it psychosomatic, but in less than 24 hours of restarting my vitamin regimen, my mood was so improved that I could not for a second overlook that without taking vitamins, I was missing something. Even if my newly concocted super-juice recipes were putting a curb in my abdominal muscles that even I was sure didn't entirely belong there, pairing this development with the Peloton, it was a long and diagonal, out-of-sorts thing that stuck out as if it was on somebody else's body and not mine. Still, I had to deal with the heavy weight of the drooping skin and belly that hung as if it very much did belong to me but wasn't budging, despite my attempts at a flat stomach and having been so well overstretched at one point by medical obesity and double occupancy that it was, at the very least to say, insurgically impossible. However, my brain went on having ways of wrapping my mind around this—that the rest of my body was quite slim, and even on some days seeming petite, were it not for my massive thighs, which also seemed to have sported a curve to them which was almost attractive, especially well-dressed. But the fun of it was, I wasn't exceptionally well-dressed, because I hadn't wanted to be. In fact, I was under obligation always to be about in the men's clothes I'd found because they were designer, and it was even something like a fashion statement that I dressed this grotesquely and in overlarge articles because of the astounding amount of weight I'd lost and the strange way my body seemed to be taking an athletic shape. Still, there was this factor that I was actually always somehow in an excruciating amount of pain, especially waking up, and though some of that I would have applied to being psychosomatic—in just that it was the pure stress of the disembodied torture I was undergoing in one way or another—whether anybody would have admitted it or not, or whether or not the unknown parties in question were going to be justified for it, I still hadn't an idea or thought as to what my unstructured purpose was. And though I sat beautifully controlled into doing music as a default, I was looking at the numbers, and the massive amount of people doing remarkably well because they could afford to do so, or were lucky, or were unbearably beautiful and so could do anything they wanted, and I too much so was not that. In fact, it was almost by design my failure and my constant struggle that even the universe seemed to look down upon me in such a way that it pitied me in a harrowing attempt at karmic justice done for the seeming evil and harsh things being done. It was true that someone had set out to torture me, and this might have once been the way of the illuminated artist and tortured soul; however, having taken so metaphorically into my own boat such heavy water of grief and loss, and drowning, I was sinking into the natural ocean of monstrous storms my body was saying in so many ways it could do no more. My mind was strong—and I could take the torture for innumerable amounts of time without becoming so much more frustrated than to just stop, or start heavy breathing, or even compulsively masturbate until one world faded deeply into another and I just didn't care. But realistically, the things that were being done pointed at a strategic and tactical, military-trained psychological governing of my own autonomy. And because I knew this, I also knew whoever was responsible was more than capable of covering their tracks to the point of disappearance—an inescapable hell of unseen trauma. The basis of it was that if I raised my concerns with any law enforcement or police, I was just as often ignored, ridiculed, or worse—thought of as symptomatic of some psychological condition I well knew and understood I did not have, all because what I did seem to possess—this undying force of color and creative ingenuity that could not quite be captured or marketed to improve the bankbook of others with a sudden onset—was unacceptable in such a way that I could become some sort of object that was in no way useful besides to experiment and then observe what I might become next, all the while knowing I would not and could not stay in one form or another too long without becoming such an obvious target. —Death of a Superstar DJ. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025 The Festival Project, Inc. ™ All rights reserved. Chroma111. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025. [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights reserved. UNAUTHORIZED REPRODUCTION OR DISTRIBUTION IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED BY LAW. INFRIGMENT IS PUNSHABLE BY FEDERAL LAW

LEGAL NOTICE / ARTIST STATEMENT Project: The Festival Project ™ (Season 12) Genre: Speculative Auto-Ethnography / Social Surrealism Disclaimer: This document is a work of creative non-fiction and political satire. While inspired by the author's lived experiences with systemic oppression, housing displacement, and surveillance, the narrative employs stylized fragmentation, stream-of-consciousness, and metaphor to dramatize the psychological impact of these events. The "characters" and "dialogue" herein are artistic devices used to critique historical and modern power structures. This text should be viewed as a performative artistic expression protected under the First Amendment, and not as a literal transcript of clinical psychosis or a formal sworn affidavit. This is a character study of 'Chroma111,' the collective artworks of a musician living in a dystopian surveillance state. The erratic language is a stylistic choice to represent the character's psychological deterioration under systemic oppression. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Frame: The protagonist is subjected to "noise harassment"—a tactic dramatized here but rooted in the known reality of tenant displacement and "psychological attrition." The narrative depicts a process of "Soul Murder" ( also known as spiritual warfare or sociopolitical targeting) orchestrated by a hostile apparatus. The antagonist is "The Institution," representing deep-state mechanisms that view multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story allegorically dramatizes the invisible mechanisms that enforce racial hierarchy, depicting how broken social systems weaponize psychological practices against the individual. Artist's Note: This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as an artistic testament to the psychological siege endured from to 2023-2025. It is a creative record of survival against a hostile state architecture. The following is a creative non-fiction horror manifesto regarding the psychological assassination of a multicultural American artist. It documents—through the lens of Afro-Surrealism—how modern surveillance technology and sonic harassment are experienced by a targeted individual. As it stands, It has become a modern sequel which adequately and astonishingly mirrors the civil rights struggles of the 1960s, set in the present day. "The protagonist is being subjected to 'noise harassment'—a known tactic used by landlords and corrupt entities to displace tenants for financial and political gain. The sound is weaponized to induce sleep deprivation and psychological attrition, dismantling of their ego and will to live, orchestrated by a hostile state apparatus. The story dramatizes over time the invisible mechanisms (the 'Deep State') that enforce racial hierarchy and and psychological genocide, weaponizing broken social systems and unfounded psychological practices as biological weapons. This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as evidence of the psychological siege endured from 2023-2025. It is a transcript of survival against a hostile state architecture. This project spans an unlimited multiprojectoral arc of over two years of chronic tactical violence, reaching into historical and theatrical projections and parallels over the all documented records of human existence through time and space. REBEL1. I am hypnotized; I am pain I am cryptonite I am in pain I am penalized; I am pinned l I am pinstripes on wide ties; I am Him. Pinterest, pintrest, pinholes And disinterest Centered sentiments And immigrants And ministrations, Images and insolence (And indulgences, patronages) Eclipses and rip titles, Paris Tiptons, And temptation Missing wages Push to shove and What are you doing, motherfucker?! To say the least, I'm a bit unconventional. Unexplainable joy And invisible ties and invincible triads Unimatatable charm, And prehensile times And forefathers before us Unpolished Well dressed hampers on leather and fortunes And doing and donuts and do this and don't-touches Mumbles of soft till and lunches and subtle distraction And coming construction Wages Ions I afford you To die now Like I want He's better at the body code Than old Colbert, He's one for one now Could this corrupt you— I didn't destroy her, I offered a suffix No longer for your number No longer for your hard times No longer for your warrants No longer No longer No four times Don't pan to the audience I'm a hole slow meltdown Don't man your own So wait, am I also telepathic? Yeah, that. Oh my! Is it like a two-way broadcast type— thing? Yeah, that part… Oh no, I'm so sorry. No you're not. You're right. I told you not to go looking into my thoughts. Check it all out, I bought prototypes Check it all out, I undug libraries Check it out, You're all alone at Walmart No longer working part time, The doors are closed and locked now, They're bound to stage a lock out You're better off on hard times You're better off on Lala Land No— Don't deport I want my art back No, don't deport; It's just a cake walk to apartheid, Remember mine now? Cheers to the world's longest monologues. Kudos to your picking up cabbage Remember the back for the wartimes The bagpipes have sounded; You're back to astonish us. No! I must have you a lesson; I'm back with my old will and testament No more Old Testament wanted I bought your sticks in Leviticus And so, Again– CUT TO: WILD PARTY. INT.EXT./WHENEVER HOW SICK IS THIS? NO! NOT THAT! I raised the dead from a half pipe I shoot the crowd out in foreign I can't remember my own Sam But I found one– For a dollar, For a wrong word And a hard song And a larger Go look, Now remember a rock star. Now that you're so stolen, Go back! You're unorthodox! Clear cut: you're a tragic Magic act– Now I'm back with a bag of tricks with my back out Learn your lessons. CUT BACK TO. INT./EXT. YO I'M SAYING A WIIIILD PARTY. WHENEVER YO, WHO DOES THIS?! What a party! I WANT TO GO HOME NOW! —I'M CALLING THE COPS! THIS IS YOUR HOUSE!!! {Enter The Multiverse} …And it's all house music all night. No, to that. Beg your pardon? I won't come. [The Festival Project ™ ] Now articulate your face muscles. My wat. Now you're bar banned. I had this at a festival once. What is it? A “whore salad” … All with a side of oxygen. Now you're in a tunnel. (A tunnel, a scone and a croissant) Now you're worse, warthog, immortal (Call your dad back, You're a bad son.) Now I'm out in the canyon With Chester McBadBat I got chest hair, And a straight out of the badlands Yes, I did mention this to my cousin Evan, But why ask that? So you heard everything I thought? Mmhmm. Hard times. —and everyone else? What is it like to have love man? I been locked out I'm a rock addict, But I'm damned now How's that fountain coming along? SUNNI BLU …it's just water. ARCHITECHT …yeah it's water. It's a fountain. SUNNI BLU —I WANT CHOCOLATE. Whose here? Not that guy! Four more beers? I just realized I never ever bought mine; I always had a tough guy. Box. What? Fight! I'm Eurovision And a hard remix— Ten minutes in and I realize I've already heard this. Oh yea, This Golden band of art, love and protection Perfection. Ohshea, shit! Who invited you? I got a 311 from Questlove!! Is that a beeper?! CUBE Since when are we on a first name basis? It would be weird to call you “ICE CUBE” Why's that? You. know? [the beeper goes off three more times] CUBE oh shit! What?! CUBE Nothin! Where the yard at?! sometimes it doesn't really matter Who the dialogue comes out of The whole point Is to put the art back into art projects Cause we all know it's been constructed And commercialized To the point of destruction And almost no promise For independent artists at all. So who is it with CUBE? Could be me. Could be you. Could be U— If it's not, It was all just a long lost passion project A collective God Complex. Give myself a hug Cause nobody else will God gave my case a Grace Cause somebody lost Will. Oh, Karen. Come, heart attack. Come karma, Come hot dogs Come Christmas time at the Plaza Come on, hard death. Come on. Hard Rock Hotel? Nah, Equinox. Alright. Hudson. Yards. Now you're in a tunnel Does your heart hurt? (You should clutch it.) Put your patchwork in a hard drive This is hard times, You can't come back. O! But they do take dear DRATCH and run with it! I go run along to Corrections, And ginger snaps for crosswords On hard workers So fax the whole document! Do you know what? Horcruxes! Hot lunches, yuck. Hockey! I want off this planet so bad I cross cross my fingers at crosswalks And oncoming trains but– Don't look either way before I walk. So pull a shotgun at all that I was one strong donkey before I got one address. Now I just redress the cause All I want is my bundle back. Yuck! Care for it at all? Yeah, yours, but she's a danger to humanity. Yeah, mine but I'm an honest hybrid horrid hunter. On time? I just got it at Sephora. On time, Like I never even got that. I want to be loved just to be looked at But since in this life I can't turn the clock back I've discovered it's hell that my body was born as. — I discovered it's hell that my body was born as. Such a problem when you know That even the great Rosie O'Donnell once wanted blue eyes. Now I forget where I trailed off… What a drawback. I'm all out of patience. Crypto, I tip toe now over eggshells No home for her Hard times And hard times. No code offered, No I don't fall for that'd But where's the snowfall over all the rot out back? Hard times. Hard times. Hard times. As the bell tolls And the well swells whole And the umpire does rack them Up; Nobody works harder than Hard times Hard times Hard times. Yeah, that's four Aces Up, Diamond. Run for your forks and your knives And your daughters and mothers and father And home family comfort And cufflinks and loafers, And sport coats and Your life. Your life. Your life. [The Festival Project ™] —-Chroma111. THE IMPENATRABLE TEN is INEVITABLY DISBANDED. Inevitably??? Inevitably! but not indefinitely. Oh, I guess. Alright. SILENCE. {Enter The Multiverse.} I don't want to be here. No one does. You are sending mixed messages. Imm not sending any messages… — with your brain. L E G E N D S Of course. Electromagnetic signaling Of course. I told you this had gone strange. Severely. Now how do I explain from this time how to get back to our time If there's no direct translation between our language and that one? Maybe you can't explain it. These are hard facts. So I suggest the use of highly trained telepaths. That far back? These things are possibly connected even in this time, theoretically using our past; I might suggest Telesynthesis— considering these planetary electromagnetics to which this entire planet is hardwired. …hardwired. That's right. Ascension. Hard times. Madame President? Get lost. [Secret President] I get it. You're a whistleblower. I'm not that. A shadow government official. Also wrong. Why else would you run for office? I'm trying to get shot at. They told me you were funny. But they didn't say anything about my gauntlet? Your—what? You know. My conquests—professional accomplishments? Your God complex? I know all about that. Perhaps it's not a complex. But a ‘gauntlet'? You're a journalist aren't you? I'm giving you some high art concepts. (Because for the sake of the rhyme, And please, for God's sakes, Gemini, In prose form Without the use of tables. ) I R O N I C —Deathwish. [The Festival Project ™] Season 12, Episode 01. REBEL1. Prod. By Blū Tha Gürū I would think it psychosomatic, but in less than 24 hours of restarting my vitamin regimen, my mood was so improved that I could not for a second overlook that without taking vitamins, I was missing something. Even if my newly concocted super-juice recipes were putting a curb in my abdominal muscles that even I was sure didn't entirely belong there, pairing this development with the Peloton, it was a long and diagonal, out-of-sorts thing that stuck out as if it was on somebody else's body and not mine. Still, I had to deal with the heavy weight of the drooping skin and belly that hung as if it very much did belong to me but wasn't budging, despite my attempts at a flat stomach and having been so well overstretched at one point by medical obesity and double occupancy that it was, at the very least to say, insurgically impossible. However, my brain went on having ways of wrapping my mind around this—that the rest of my body was quite slim, and even on some days seeming petite, were it not for my massive thighs, which also seemed to have sported a curve to them which was almost attractive, especially well-dressed. But the fun of it was, I wasn't exceptionally well-dressed, because I hadn't wanted to be. In fact, I was under obligation always to be about in the men's clothes I'd found because they were designer, and it was even something like a fashion statement that I dressed this grotesquely and in overlarge articles because of the astounding amount of weight I'd lost and the strange way my body seemed to be taking an athletic shape. Still, there was this factor that I was actually always somehow in an excruciating amount of pain, especially waking up, and though some of that I would have applied to being psychosomatic—in just that it was the pure stress of the disembodied torture I was undergoing in one way or another—whether anybody would have admitted it or not, or whether or not the unknown parties in question were going to be justified for it, I still hadn't an idea or thought as to what my unstructured purpose was. And though I sat beautifully controlled into doing music as a default, I was looking at the numbers, and the massive amount of people doing remarkably well because they could afford to do so, or were lucky, or were unbearably beautiful and so could do anything they wanted, and I too much so was not that. In fact, it was almost by design my failure and my constant struggle that even the universe seemed to look down upon me in such a way that it pitied me in a harrowing attempt at karmic justice done for the seeming evil and harsh things being done. It was true that someone had set out to torture me, and this might have once been the way of the illuminated artist and tortured soul; however, having taken so metaphorically into my own boat such heavy water of grief and loss, and drowning, I was sinking into the natural ocean of monstrous storms my body was saying in so many ways it could do no more. My mind was strong—and I could take the torture for innumerable amounts of time without becoming so much more frustrated than to just stop, or start heavy breathing, or even compulsively masturbate until one world faded deeply into another and I just didn't care. But realistically, the things that were being done pointed at a strategic and tactical, military-trained psychological governing of my own autonomy. And because I knew this, I also knew whoever was responsible was more than capable of covering their tracks to the point of disappearance—an inescapable hell of unseen trauma. The basis of it was that if I raised my concerns with any law enforcement or police, I was just as often ignored, ridiculed, or worse—thought of as symptomatic of some psychological condition I well knew and understood I did not have, all because what I did seem to possess—this undying force of color and creative ingenuity that could not quite be captured or marketed to improve the bankbook of others with a sudden onset—was unacceptable in such a way that I could become some sort of object that was in no way useful besides to experiment and then observe what I might become next, all the while knowing I would not and could not stay in one form or another too long without becoming such an obvious target. —Death of a Superstar DJ. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025 The Festival Project, Inc. ™ All rights reserved. Chroma111. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025. [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights reserved. UNAUTHORIZED REPRODUCTION OR DISTRIBUTION IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED BY LAW. INFRIGMENT IS PUNSHABLE BY FEDERAL LAW

Manifesting First Fruits (1) (audio) David Eells 11/19/25 Jesus Is Coming in His First-Fruits Teddy Lishan Desta - 06/22/2005 You shall rise up in My Name, you shall stand in My very Glory. In the majesty of the Name of your God, you shall shepherd My flock (Micah 5:4-5). For the sake of My Name, which I have bestowed on you, and for the Divine strength I have put in you, the obedience of the nations shall be yours, and all the nations of the earth shall bring their homage to you. All the nations shall be blessed through you (Genesis 49:10; Psalm 72:11). For your God has anointed and glorified you, you shall be made princes and leaders to the nations; and a people who knew not you, shall follow you (Isaiah 55:4; 32:1). You have eaten from the hidden manna; you have received the white stone. You have passed through the deep waters of afflictions, and you have overcome your trials. Therefore, I have given you access to My presence; I have made you My cherished heritage. You have been made a royal vessel, a chosen seed to carry My Name. Arise now and display the white stone and manifest the Name written on it (Revelation 2:17). Arise and proclaim the hidden manna, I have fed you all these years. What you have heard in secret, now you should proclaim in the public; what you have been told in the ears, now you have to shout it from the rooftops (Matthew 10:27). I have made you the express image of My Son, and the manifestation of His invisible power (Hebrews 1:3; Revelation 3:12). You shall soon leave My hiding place, and you will carry His Name before the nations. And those who do not bow down to this Name, they shall fall and never rise again (Psalm 45: 5-7). This is the day your Lord has chosen to magnify His Holy Name above all names. I have shaped you all these years in the furnace of affliction. You have languished under a heavy burden and endured the rod of My chastisement. I have intended you to be a caring leader, so I have chosen you by fire (Isaiah 49:11). But look, I shall come to you to open your grave and to release you from your dungeon. I shall come to you to shake off your dust and to change your humble state. When I exert My resurrection power on your behalf and raise you from the dead and sit you on a throne in the highest place of this world, then you shall be like one who dreams. I shall place you above all dominion, principalities and powers, and all those who will see this will acknowledge that I have exerted the exceeding power of My strength on your behalf. I have anointed you for My grand purpose. You are the chosen instrument to bring to an end the groaning and sighing of creation (Romans 8:19). You shall gather the little ones in your nurturing arms, and they will thrive under your protective care. The poor and the needy shall get solace under your guidance, and you shall destroy their destroyer and make their Earth to rest in peace. You shall be the spring shower on the dry land. The lives that have been blighted by sin shall be healed and restored. The weak and the oppressed shall have their lives revived under your sight. You shall raise the dead and restore the deceased. You will be made the dew of light, which shall make the earth to sprout her dead back to life. The rubbles of generations you shall rebuild. But you shall burn also like a fire (Malachi 3:1-2). Your blaze shall sweep the world; it shall devour all that causes offense. You shall serve Me as the gatekeepers of My Kingdom lest the uncircumcised of heart enter My Kingdom and defile My Sanctuary. Your all-seeing eyes shall keep out the wicked, the arrogant, and the pervert from My holy city. To understand all these, look what I did in the life of Moses when I took him from the vocation of a shepherd to make him a leader of My people; study what I did for Joseph when I led him out of the recesses of the dark dungeon to sit him next to the king, and discern My mighty deeds how I glorified Mordecai lifting him up from his humble state to make him a viceroy of the Persian Empire. My people, all these are types of your end-time destiny; it shall be so with you in these last days. I have promised that the overcomer shall inherit My Name and sit with Me on My Divine Throne. He shall be My son and I shall be his Father; and He shall rule the nations with the rod of iron (Revelation 2:26-27, 3:21-22). Get ready, your day of visitation hastens to its fulfillment.   Jesus Will Soon Bring Us to the Father  Amos Scaggs vision - 03/01/2006 I was on the side of a mountain with another person who I knew to be one of the sons of the prophets. I was tending a solid white lamb that had an ever-smooth, slick coat of wool. I was holding a white rope that was attached to the lamb's neck while it was grazing. All of a sudden, the lamb started to move around the side of the mountain and then went straight up towards the top. The son of the prophets did not go with me. As I gave the lamb more rope, it started running full speed higher and higher. I was so amazed that I could keep up with the lamb running like that. I never let go of the white rope that was around the lamb's neck. When the lamb broke into a full gallop, it sensed its owner and master. At the top of the mountain was an old white-haired man with a white beard who was slowly descending the mountain to meet the lamb. But it seemed that the old man had not moved more than 5ft from the top of the mountain until the lamb had reached him. The old man caressed the lamb, and I was still holding on to the white rope that was around the lamb's neck. Jesus, the Lamb, through the Holy Spirit, the rope, will very quickly cause us to ascend the mountain of the Kingdom to our Father. I believe this will soon happen. The sons of the prophets failed to receive the anointing that I did. In 2 Kings 2:15-18 the sons of the prophets didn't believe that Elijah had been taken into the presence of God but thought he was still on earth and so were not included in the gathering. They represented those who were trained by the school of the prophets and, as such the Church System.   First-Fruits Rise as World Falls The Trumpet Bill Burns -- 12/26/2005 You shall be astonished as you walk forward from this day. I tell you that I am going to build My house. It is a house that no man can build, and I will build on the mountain tops, and I will build in the places that people will flow into. I will build a house of power, for indeed this is the season of the horse (of power) when the sons of My right hand shall arise to their positions. I shall dispel the lies that I no longer move in power. I shall break through the darkness, for I Am the Light of this Day. I Am the Way, the Truth and the Life. Truth is going to be revealed in an unprecedented way as I come forth in power and build My house. It will be a house that I can dwell in, a place of healing and resurrection life, a place of revelation knowledge. You, My people, will see that house. Arise and rejoice, for I come, says the Lord!   Small Straws in a Soft Wind Marsha Burns - 12/26/2005 There is a rumbling; it is My power in the earth. It is resurrection power. I have been touched with the feeling of your infirmities. I have been touched by your grief and sorrow. Come forth. Rise up and come forth. You have been bound in grave clothes, but I call to you to come forth! I will bring you up and loose you from your bondages. I will cause you to overcome and to be victorious even over the death in the things you have experienced, says the Lord.   Glorified in His Saints Aaron Lim - 10/02/2006 I received this vision as I was listening to a talk by David Eells. In the vision, the whole land was dark, and nothing could be seen in the background. I saw the Lord Jesus Christ with a light around Him on the cross on top of a hill in the middle of the land. All around, at the bottom of the hill, I saw people who looked exactly like Jesus, like they were clones of Him. They were all wearing the exact same garments as each other and had the same light around them as Christ did, and they were all looking up towards Him on the cross. Praise His name! 2 Cor.3:18 But we all, with unveiled face beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are transformed into the same image from glory to glory, even as from the Lord the Spirit. 2 Cor.4:11 For we who live are always delivered unto death for Jesus' sake, that the life also of Jesus may be manifested in our mortal flesh. Gal.2:20 I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I that live, but Christ living in me: and that [life] which I now live in the flesh I live in faith, [the faith] which is in the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself up for me. 2 Thes.1:10 when he shall come to be glorified in his saints, and to be marvelled at in all them that believed (because our testimony unto you was believed) in that day. 11 To which end we also pray always for you, that our God may count you worthy of your calling, and fulfil every desire of goodness and [every] work of faith, with power; 12 that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and ye in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ. After the vision, I knelt down to pray and closed my eyes, and I pictured Jesus Christ on top of the hill, as if through the eyes of one of the saints, and I said to Him a prayer from King David: “With all my heart have I sought you, don't let me wander from your commandments.” He looked at me and said, “Ask the Father, because anything you ask of Him will be done by the Father”. So I looked up to the sky and asked our Father, and tears started flowing from my eyes. To Him be the kingdom and the glory forever and ever. My brothers and sisters, seek diligently and keep your eyes on the Son because everything else is darkness, and in Him there's hope. Ask the Father to lead you by the hand to our Lord because we can't find Him on our own. I have faith in His power to perfect all of us in Jesus Christ.   Greater Works Coming  Rex Veron - 10/04/2006 Last night, around 1:30 or 2:00 AM, I dreamed; actually, it was like I was translated to this place. I was among many people of all walks of life and backgrounds. All of them were between 16 - 20 years old, except me. We were working as a team, casting out demons, praying, and exalting Jesus. We would speak and it would come to pass; healings, prophesying, deliverances, growing and replacing of limbs, it was awesome. It replayed several times, and I remember thinking I'm actually here with these people doing this. The feeling of presence was overwhelming. The people were non-descript, nothing distinguished one from another, and all had in common the love, reverence, and fear of the Lord. I have a strong sense this morning that this has something to do with the birth of the man-child and how the corporate body will function.   A Bird of Prey Teddy Lishan Desta (David's notes in red) What I have purposed from eternity that I will perform in its appointed time. My eternal counsel shall stand, and what I have purposed will be done. I am not a man to lie, not a son of man to change My mind. I will do what I counsel to do; I cannot deny Myself. Many have written about My plan for the last days. But did they truly learn from Me, or did they hear from My eternal counsels? Did they partake of the secrets of their God; did they visit the inner recesses of My word? Were the mysteries of the Holy One of Israel disclosed to them? Had they known My counsel, they would have declared My mind. Had they truly heard from Me, there would have been no error among My people. But what they spoke was of man; what they wrote was out of the learning of man. Neither the wise of this world could know about My doing, as it is discerned by My Spirit. None of their learned men could predict about My plan, as this was My much-kept secret. Jer.23:16 Thus saith Jehovah of hosts, Hearken not unto the words of the prophets that prophesy unto you: they teach you vanity; they speak a vision of their own heart, and not out of the mouth of Jehovah. 17 They say continually unto them that despise me, Jehovah hath said, Ye shall have peace; and unto every one that walketh in the stubbornness of his own heart they say, No evil shall come upon you. 18 For who hath stood in the council of Jehovah, that he should perceive and hear his word? Who hath marked my word, and heard it? 19 Behold, the tempest of Jehovah, [even his] wrath, is gone forth, yea, a whirling tempest: it shall burst upon the head of the wicked. 20 The anger of Jehovah shall not return, until he have executed, and till he have performed the intents of his heart: in the latter days ye shall understand it perfectly. 21 I sent not these prophets, yet they ran: I spake not unto them, yet they prophesied. 22 But if they had stood in my council, then had they caused my people to hear my words, and had turned them from their evil way, and from the evil of their doings. My people, listen to Me as I speak My heart to you; and carefully weigh My words which are from My heart. My secrets I disclose to you, and that which has not been known to past generations I reveal to you. You have not heard it before; only now I lift the shroud and reveal that which has been hid from the ages. You are My chosen generation, so I reveal My truths to you. This I do so that you shall build My Kingdom on earth and bring Me the glory (Isa 48; Eph.1:17-20; Rom.16:26-27). This is My will, My eternal counsel. Your God will stir a bird of prey, His instrument of judgment from its abode. God has readied His bird for these days. God shall use it to bring His eternal plan to pass on earth, and God's hand shall guide it into action. God will call it from the valleys of the Jordan, and make it to emerge from the lowest parts of the earth. As the phoenix rises from its ashes, so shall My bird rise from the furnaces. It will come forth from the smoldering fires, so it will gleam like burnished steel. It will ascend to the heights and strike across the skies like lightning. The world will be taken by surprise; its appearing shall strike fear among many. I have fully equipped the bird to fulfill all that I have called it to do. (This phoenix is the first fruits sons of God, in whom Jesus is resurrected from the death of the Jordan to do His works of old when He was the first fruits. They will bring truths hidden from the foundation of the world and authority to bring judgment on the beast and harlot.) Its eyes are like those of the eagle, penetrating and discerning from afar. Its wings are large and strong; it will not weary or tire. Its talons and beak are sharp and strong; none of its prey can escape its grips. My bird shall strike fear in the hearts of the kings of the earth, and the girdles of their loins will untie. Those who eat My people as one who eats bread, they shall be judged by My hand. Those who say they reside in their strong towers, them it shall attack and humble for their pride. Many will cry out to God for His mercy and forgiveness; many may find the door of repentance closed. But to you, My sons and daughters of the Faith, the bird shall come to you as a comforter, carrying healing in its wings. To you, it shall bring good tidings, the news of eternal joy and rest. You shall get protection under its wings and deliverance from your mortal enemies. With your eyes, you shall see the destruction of the wicked, and none of the pestilences coming to your gates. Mal.4:2 But unto you that fear my name shall the sun of righteousness arise with healing in its wings; and ye shall go forth, and gambol as calves of the stall. 3 And ye shall tread down the wicked; for they shall be ashes under the soles of your feet in the day that I make, saith Jehovah of hosts. You shall see My salvation coming to the earth; you shall see as the captives go free. You shall see your corporate prayers answered and your righteous petitions granted. I will wipe away your tears from your faces, and your mouth shall be filled with mirth. You will see the righteousness of God filling the world, as the Word of God is honored by all. Hos.6:2 After two days will he revive us: on the third day he will raise us up, and we shall live before him. 3 And let us know, let us follow on to know Jehovah: his going forth is sure as the morning; and he will come unto us as the rain, as the latter rain that watereth the earth. Mal.5:2 But thou, Beth-lehem Ephrathah, which art little to be among the thousands of Judah, out of thee shall one come forth unto me that is to be ruler in Israel; whose goings forth are from of old, from everlasting. 3 Therefore will he give them up, until the time that she who travaileth hath brought forth: then the residue of his brethren shall return unto the children of Israel. 4 And he shall stand, and shall feed [his flock] in the strength of Jehovah, in the majesty of the name of Jehovah his God: and they shall abide; for now shall he be great unto the ends of the earth. Therefore, My people, wait upon your God expectantly as I AM to begin to fulfill My eternal plans. But many others will attempt to fight My will, but they shall fail. Many will try to shoot down My bird of prey, but no weapon fashioned against it can prosper. I AM your God Who does His eternal counsels faithfully in its appointed time. I do that which is truth, and I owe no one an apology, says the Lord. Word From the east, I summon a bird of prey; from a far-off land, a man to fulfill My purpose. What I have said, that will I bring about; what I have planned, that will I do (Isa.46:11). I am calling a man to come from the east; he will swoop down like a hawk and accomplish what I have planned. I have spoken, and it will be done (Isa.46:11). For as lightning that comes from the east is visible even in the west, so will be the coming of the Son of Man (Mat.24:27, NIV).   Man-child and Tribulation Approach He Shall Come to Be Glorified in His Saints Word given to Debra Klein - 02/08/2004 You cry out to me, My love, in heavy labor, groping for the touch of My hand ... the comfort of My Words in thy ears! You are drunk and delirious with the birth pangs to deliver my Son from thy womb! The tears of your pain have clouded thy sight and discernment as to where you are! You are here ... in the labor room ... in the holding pattern, laboring to bring forth My Son! I am with you, though you cannot see Me through your suffering and labor. Do you not hear the tender words of comfort I whisper in thy ears? Am I not so close that you do not feel my heart beating with yours as the labor increases? For in just a little while, He shall come forth from thy womb and we will rejoice in Him! My Child in you is stirring and restless, and also labors to come forth from you. The two of you labor together through the writhing pain, and I labor with you also. The Child is still now as He comes through the birth canal ... still and waiting for the last powerful thrust and push to come forth from thy womb to be delivered onto the earth and manifest My Glory! Fear not My Beloved. I am with you! Lean on me heavily as the labor grows hard! For I hold you completely in My Arms and wipe the sweat of your brow through these last excruciating pains before the final thrust! Listen, My love ... do you hear His heart beat within you? His heartbeat is increasing as He rises up within you! Any moment now My Beloved, He will come forth! Let Me wipe the tears from your eyes so that you can focus on Me as the labor grows. Focus on My Face and do not turn your eye from Me during these last pains. Hold tight to Mine Arm and the work of Mine Hand will deliver thee! Just a little while, My Beloved! Hold tight to Me! And the world will know that I, the Father, have brought forth My Son through you! Fear not My Love, the dragon lies cunning in anticipation of His birth, but I am here and will protect Him and you from the evil one who desires in his heart to devour Him. He has no victory over My Hand that delivers My Son onto the earth! Rest My Love, between the pangs of labor, for you will need to be strengthened to endure the final moments of the labor. Lay back in My Arms and rest heavy upon Me, for soon, very soon My Son will come forth and I will deliver you into My Glory!   Tribulation Translations to Safety Javier Keefe - 03/01/2012 (David's notes in red) In the dream I had this morning, there was a nuclear missile that was heading to Earth. There were three types of people whom I saw when it was known that this missile would be crashing to Earth. The first group just gave up and started partying and drinking, reasoning, Well, we're all going to die, so we'd might as well enjoy our last moments. The second type of people thought, everyone for themselves, and a hoarding spirit prevailed in them. (Even though this missile could be a natural sign of what will come to many places on Earth, this missile is a symbol of coming catastrophe. Many people know that the end is near and lean upon whatever they trust in or gives some comfort to them.) The third type of people knew that when this missile hit the Earth, the yoke of this world system will be broken off of them supernaturally and that an anointing of protection with every need provided by the hand of their Father would be speedily met. They knew that the Lord's power and great grace, like could only be imagined by the heart, would become reality. (These saints knew that the end of hope in the world system brings the freedom of a new beginning. People can stop worrying about going to college and getting ahead and seek to know God and be in the “Secret place of the Most High”, Jesus Christ. The renewed imagination of faith in the promises of God's Word will supply every need, including protection.) This third group of people found they were able to fly and be translated to help the first two types of people. (See my dream below of translations to come.) The third group of people had so much faith in the good news of the latter rain anointing that they were a great help to many, and they were able to bring some to a safe house. (Those who believe the Gospel of Jesus bearing the curse for us can be delivered from it -- Galatians 3:13.) Even though some people were told about the safe house, some non-believers complained, “Nothing can help us from this coming tragedy”, and they refused to enter the safe house. (The safe house represents abiding in the Word, the Ark of Jesus Christ, and also physical places protected by the angels for people who are in the Ark of Jesus.) The missile was seen in the air like a large, bright star falling to Earth, but everyone knew it was a nuclear missile that would change the world forever once it hit. (America has been seen as a falling star. In the natural, one nuclear missile could bring America down to third-world nation status if exploded miles in the air to “hit Earth” with an EMP to destroy all electronics. Iran has tested their missiles for a high air burst. Javier never saw the missile hit Earth. Many have seen in dreams electronics come to a standstill in America.) The third group of people were at times, like Peter walking on the water; although they could fly at times, the awe of this phenomenon troubled them and kept them from continuing to fly. (Like Peter, when we pay attention to the wind and the waves, it drags our mind down into the natural and causes us to lose faith and sink.) As these people battled with their flying trouble, they got their eyes more on themselves. They thought they were failing to lift off the ground because they were not taking off fast enough, so they started to run and tried catching speed to lift off. Then, when that wouldn't work, they thought they had to be up off the ground and jump off something to catch air. (Salvation in all forms is by faith and not by self-works.) They finally realized they just had to stop confessing they “couldn't fly” and when they simply professed “they could fly,” they could fly again. (We can do all things through Christ who strengthens us. Once this confusion of works versus grace through faith is past, there will be consistency to walk in the steps of Jesus under the latter rain anointing. Although in the spiritual we fly, or overcome the world, by faith, real translations were common in the New Testament, early rain and will be more so in the latter rain.) Overall, there was a great peace within the third type of people and it was spreading to some others and the scriptures of God's promises were being quoted non-stop, and the Word was the most important thing in the world that was held onto. Mar.11:23 Verily I say unto you, Whosoever shall say unto this mountain, Be thou taken up and cast into the sea; and shall not doubt in his heart, but shall believe that what he saith cometh to pass; he shall have it. 24 Therefore I say unto you, All things whatsoever ye pray and ask for, believe that ye receive them, and ye shall have them. According to this verse, if you were caught in a place of apparent danger, since you are not under the curse, you could believe God to translate you somewhere else.)   David Eells - 08/18/2010 I was translated from Louisiana many years ago to preach in tongues in some Eastern European church. It was clear they were expecting me to appear in the pulpit, but were very excited when it happened. More recently, I asked the Lord for this gift and have expected it after the Man-child latter rain ministry begins, since it was also common in the early rain. Jesus “disappeared” in the numeric -- John 5:13; Luke 4:28-30; Acts 8:39; John 10:39? In type -- Ezekiel 3:14; 1 Kings 18:12. The boat translated in John 6:16-21. I believe in answer to this prayer, I received a dream in which I saw large, beautiful, tasty strawberries. (Which I believe represent the first fruits Man-child ministry, since strawberries are a spring fruit.) As I examined them, they were inside a dead fish with all kinds of nasty mud and trash around it. (I believe this represents the Man-child being born out of an apostate religious system represented by the fish and the mud and trash represent all the garbage doctrine and living associated with this system.) Also, I saw a war in which the enemy had large plastic tanks with metal straps around them (the kind used in the chemical industry where poisons and corrosives would destroy metal tanks.) We sought to destroy these tanks. (This poison represents strong demonic delusions sent in lying words and doctrines to destroy God's people. We are seeing some of this now.) Then I saw that I had been given a gift to translate from place to place and also to move people out of harm's way by this method. A group would stand beside me and be translated with me to a safe place. (The Man-child took the Woman into the wilderness refuge. Rev.12:5 And she was delivered of a son, a man-child, who is to rule all the nations with a rod of iron: and her child was caught up unto God, and unto his throne. 6 And the woman fled into the wilderness, where she hath a place prepared of God, that there they may nourish her a thousand two hundred and threescore days ...) When we translated, I said to the translated ones, “And we didn't even have [natural] wings”. (In Javier's dream, flying was translation. 14 And there were given to the woman the two wings of the great eagle, that she might fly into the wilderness unto her place, where she is nourished for a time, and times, and half a time, from the face of the serpent. These next two verses could refer to the poison in the plastic tanks of strong delusions, which we sought to destroy. 15 And the serpent cast out of his mouth after the woman water as a river, that he might cause her to be carried away by the stream. 16 And the earth helped the woman, and the earth opened her mouth and swallowed up the river which the dragon cast out of his mouth.)

A Sermon for the Twenty-first Sunday after Trinity Ephesians 6:10-20 by William Klock If you haven't noticed, we have a mouse problem.  Usually the mice stay to the attic or the crawlspace, but for some reason, this year, they've decided to go everywhere.  For the last six weeks I've been plugging holes and setting traps and experimenting with bait: everything from peanut butter to dog treats to Veronica and Meredith's maple fudge.  All to no avail.  They don't touch the traps, but they poop right next to them as if to say, “Do you really think we're that stupid?”  And Friday, Friday was the last straw.  The last while has seemed like a steady stream of setbacks and disappointments.  This week I was working on my book on preaching while sending feedback to a couple of guys I've been advising on preaching.  I've been really struggling with that book and this week, chatting with these two guys, I finally kind of identified the obstacle I've been running up against and I don't really know how to get around it, and that's left me frustrated and discouraged.  And the City of Courtenay.  They won't clear the leaves in their little “conservation” area anymore, so I cleared the sidewalks, but then Thursday's storm blew the leaves back even deeper, so Friday morning I was using a snow shovel to move them out as far away as I could from the church so the wind wouldn't blow them back and in the process I strained something in my leg.  And then the news coming out daily this week from ACNA and about bishops not doing what bishops are supposed to do and bishops allegedly doing things that bishops aren't supposed to do.  I was really, really discouraged on Friday.  I'm rarely tempted to give up, but Friday I was close.  And then I heard a noise, and I turned and saw a mouse dart across the room and into the storage cubicle in the Sunday School.  So I got up to see where the mouse went.  I didn't find it, but I did find the nest.  In the seasonal banners.  It was gross.  The mice had peed and pooped and chewed holes in them.  And that was it.  Stick a fork in me.  I'm done.  I packed up my things and went home.  I tried the Elijah therapy.  I had a snack and a nap.  It didn't really work. I came back yesterday morning to clean up the mouse mess.  I checked the traps first.  I wanted revenge.  But alas—nothing—as usual.  So I started sweeping and mopping and vacuuming and while I was doing that I was praying—mostly for the death of the mice.  But somewhere between the mopping and the vacuuming it hit me.  Of all the things wrong with the world and wrong with the church, it wasn't the mice.  People sin, bishops sin, I sin—but not the mice.  The mice, as annoying as they are, the mice are doing exactly what God created them to do.  They're upstairs peeing and pooping and chewing on the banners, because that's what God made them to do and in doing it they give him glory.  And while I was discouraged and tempted to just give up, they were happily doing their thing, not caring at all that I'm out to get them—laughing their little mouse laughs at me as they poop right next to my traps.  Looking for a new place to build a nest after I kicked them out of the last one.  And as I vacuumed up their poop St. Paul's words from our Epistle kept running around my head like a mouse on a wheel: Stand firm! I—we—need to be like the mice.  We need to be what Jesus has made us to be and in that we will give God glory.  And, of course, in doing that, we'll catch the attention of the enemy, who will do his best to oppose us, to discourage us, to persuade us to throw in the towel.  Our Epistle today is from Ephesians 6—just about at the end of the letter.  The first part of the letter is about who we are—or, better, who Jesus has made us through his death and resurrection.  In Chapter 2 Paul writes that if we belong to the Messiah—if we have put our faith, our trust, our allegiance in him—then we are already “seated with him in the heavenly places”.  If by faith we are in the Messiah, then that's who we are: we're part of God's new creation, seated with our king in glory.  But of course, this is one of those “already, but not yet” things.  It's begun, but it's not yet finished.  Think about it.  When he rose from death, Jesus won the decisive battle over sin and death.  But that doesn't mean the war is over.  Sin and death, the principalities and powers of the old evil age still, nevertheless, continue to fight on even though they've already lost.  It won't be over until the gospel and the Spirit have gone out to bring God's new creation to the ends of the earth—until the knowledge of his glory covers the earth as the waters cover the sea.  And here's the point that Paul is trying to make here at the end of Ephesians: Because we've been united with Jesus the Messiah, because what's true of him is true of us, because we are seated with him in the heavenlies, that means that we've been recruited to take part in this great messianic battle to carry the gospel and God's glory to the ends of the earth—to proclaim the victory Jesus won on the cross to the people who haven't yet heard that good news, who haven't yet heard that he's the world's true lord. And if we do this, we will face opposition.  That's why, when you make it clear for example, that your church isn't in the business of playing musical chairs with other churches, but about going out to proclaim and live the gospel to bring people to Jesus, the devils will fight you.  That's why, when you make it clear that you're not going to compromise with the philosophies, with the politics, with the systems of the world, the devils will fight you.  That's why, when you make it clear that you're going to live out new creation and make the glory of God known here and now, the devils will fight you.  They will fight you.  They will throw hurdles in your path.  They will go for the weakest link and they will cause your leaders to stumble and fall.  They will do whatever they can to discourage you and tempt you to throw in the towel. And so Paul writes to the Ephesian Christians and he says, “The one thing left to say is this: Be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power.”  Don't be strong in yourself.  That won't cut it.  Be strong in the Lord, because he's the one who has won the victory.  “Put on God's complete armour,” he says.  “Then you'll be able to stand firm against the devil's schemes.”  And, to be clear, it's the devil's schemes.  “The warfare we're engaged in, you see, isn't against flesh and blood.  It's against the principalities, against the powers, against the cosmic powers that rule the world in this dark age, against the wicked spiritual elements in the heavenly places.” I expect this took some time to sink in with Paul's original audience—especially his fellow Judeans.  It's not that they didn't believe there are unseen forces in the world.  That's a problem unique to people today with all of our post-enlightenment materialistic thinking.  If we can't see it, it doesn't exist.  People in the First Century knew better than us.  They knew there are spiritual powers we can't see.  The issue is that when we think of enemies, we almost always think of people.  It's the guy on the city council who wants to take away the tax exempt status of churches.  It's the people in the wrong political party.  It's the people in that foreign country that hate us.  It's the Communists or it's the Muslims or the alphabet people or the pronouns people.  Paul's people thought the same way.  Judeans thought it was the pagans.  Their enemies were the Greeks who tried to stamp out their way of life back in the Second Century B.C.  It was the Romans who presently ruled them and whose grip was getting tighter and tighter.  Paul knew that as persecution came to the churches at the hands of unbelieving Jews and pagan Greeks and Romans Christians would be tempted to start thinking the same way about them. And Paul's wanting them to understand here that none of those people is the real enemy.  Maybe they once were, but when Jesus died on the cross and rose again, he redefined the battle.  Jesus didn't go to the cross to defeat the Greeks or the Romans or the Communists or the Muslims.  He went to the cross to defeat sin and death and the powers of evil—those powers that, since the serpent tempted Eve, have infiltrated God's good creation and corrupted it, that have caused us to worship idols instead of God, that have caused us to forsake our vocation as the stewards of his creation and priests of his temple, that have caused us to turn on each other instead of loving each other as God loves us.  Jesus came like a new Adam to defeat not us, but the powers of evil, and in the process to forgive us for our rebellion and treason and to restore us to our old vocation, to do the job he created us for in the first place.  That's what it means to bear his image. And Paul knew that this meant Jesus has called us to fight at his side.  Not to fight the Greeks or the Romans or the Communists or the Muslims, but to fight the powers of evil, the principalities and powers and spiritual forces that have infiltrated creation and brought darkness where there should be light.  Again, at the cross he won the decisive victory, now he calls us into his gospel army to proclaim that good news.  To announce to the world that Jesus is Lord, that there is forgiveness of sins and reconciliation with God through him if we will only come in faith and give him our allegiance.  The Greeks and the Romans, the Communists and the Muslims aren't the enemy.  It's the dark powers behind them.  And never forget that those dark powers were once working in us, too.  And they're often much closer to home—even doing their work of corruption in our own house—if you've followed the ACNA news the past couple of weeks.  But the good news is that Jesus can deliver those people, just as he delivered us. This, by the way, is why Jesus hasn't just done the war all at once.  Because God is patient, loving, and gracious he's chosen to fight this war over the long term, giving the whole world the opportunity to hear and respond to the good news about Jesus.  Giving time for the gospel and the Spirit to infiltrate the systems and powers and people of this old evil age to undo what sin and death have done. So, Paul writes, stand firm and be prepared to fight—the real enemy.  And for that he says we need to take up the whole armour of God.  That's verse 13.  And this is really telling.  If you were paying attention when we read the Old Testament lesson this morning—the one from Isaiah 59—what Paul says here should sound familiar.  Through Isaiah the Lord promised that he would send a redeemer to set the world to rights.  Our Old Testament lesson is a promise of the coming Messiah, of Jesus.  Here's what we read: “‘The Lord saw it, and it displeased him that there was no justice. He saw that there was no man, and wondered that there was no one to intercede; then his own arm brought him salvation, and his righteousness upheld him. He put on righteousness as a breastplate, and a helmet of salvation on his head; he put on garments of vengeance for clothing, and wrapped himself in zeal as a cloak. According to their deeds, so will he repay, wrath to his adversaries, repayment to his enemies; to the coastlands he will render repayment…And a Redeemer will come to Zion, to those in Jacob who turn from transgression,' declares the Lord.” Jesus was the first one to put on this armour and now, because we're united with him, because he's made us part of his new creation, and because he's called us to enter the battle and to stand firm against the darkness, he shares his armour with us—otherwise we wouldn't be able to stand at all.  And here's the armour as Paul describes it in Ephesians, starting again at 6:13: “For this reason you must take up the whole armour of God.  Then, when wickedness grabs the moment, you'll be able to withstand, to do what needs to be done, and still be on your feet when it's over.  So stand firm!  Put the belt of truth around your waist; put on justice/righteousness as your breastplate; for shoes on your feet, ready for battle, take the good news of peace.  With it all take the shield of faith; if you've got that, you'll be able to quench the flaming arrows of the evil one.  Take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is God's word.” It starts with truth.  A Roman soldier's belt or girdle was sort of the thing that everything else attached to or hung from.  Put on truth as your belt.  Everything else depends on that.  In Isaiah's vision the Messiah was to come to set this broken world to rights and that begins with the truth.  The reason the world is in the mess it's in is because we believed the serpent's lie—that we could be like God.  Brother and Sisters, the truth is that that's idolatry.  Every other sin cascades from that.  The great lie that permeates the world is that we can do and be whatever we want.  That we can make our own reality and define goodness for ourselves.  But Jesus has come to remind us of the truth—the truth of the original creation and the truth of God's new creation.  And so before we go to battle evil, we've got to tie that truth around us.  The gospel isn't about our feelings; it's not what we make it; it's not about what we think might offend or not offend people; it's about the truth, the reality of God's goodness and his good creation and his purpose to set it and us to rights revealed in the good news about Jesus.  Tie that on and the rest follows naturally. Second, as a breastplate, put on God's justice or righteousness—remember in Greek they're the same word.  It's a reminder that at the heart of the gospel is God's plan to set this broken world to rights—to undo everything that's wrong, to undo all the sad things, to wipe away all the tears—ultimately and eventually to wipe every last bit of evil and sin and darkness from creation and even death itself.  And it's a reminder that when God raised Jesus from death, he overturned the world's false verdict against him and declared him to be in the right—and that if we are united with him, then we share in that verdict, in his vindication. And then for our shoes: peace.  “How beautiful are the feet of the one who announces peace…who says to Zion, Your God reigns.”  This is the place where Paul changes that Old Testament image from Isaiah.  Instead of vengeance, he calls us to put on peace.  The Jews wanted vengeance on their enemies, but Paul's reminding us that the Messiah, through his death, has reconciled us to God.  He's given us peace.  And that peace isn't just for us; it's for everyone.  And it's on our feet.  We stand on it.  The enemy will try to knock us down by making us think we're in this for vengeance—that we need to go after the Greeks or the Romans or the Communists or the Muslims, but if we stand on peace, on reconciliation with God, we will stand firm and remember that our fight is not with flesh and blood, but with the devil. The fourth bit of armour is the shield of faith.  In the ancient world an enemy might shoot flaming arrows at you, so you soaked your wooden shield in water.  We soak our shield in faith.  That means in the faithfulness of Jesus the Messiah and in our own responding faith—remembering that he's won the victory and trusting that he will empower us to stand firm in this gospel battle and win in the end.  And that goes with the helmet of salvation—like a gospel thinking cap, it reminds us Jesus has rescued the captives.  You and I no longer belong to sin and death, but to the Messiah.  It reminds us, too, why we're waging this battle: to free the men and women still captive, still slaves to sin and death. So far this armour is all for defence.  The Christian has only one offensive weapon and that should remind us about the nature of this battle.  It's not against flesh and blood, but against the unseen forces of evil that infiltrate the systems and institutions of the world.  Our sword, the weapon by which we advance the kingdom of God is the word.  In Isaiah 11:4 the Messiah smites the earth with the rod of his mouth and slays the wicked with the breath of his lips.  It's a wonderful illustration of the power of God's word and God's Spirit—not violence, but his creative and life-giving word—to free and to transform and to set the broken world right as it confronts the great lie with God's truth. But our Epistle doesn't quite end there.  Truth and justice, peace and faith, salvation and the word are all essential if we are going to stand firm.  To take up these things is to be the people that Jesus has made us through our union with him.  But union is about more than putting these things on, it's about real, literal union—or communion—with him.  We need to talk with our commander.  And so, in verses 18-20 Paul writes: “Pray on every occasion in the Spirit, with every type of prayer and intercession.  You'll need to keep awake and alert for this, with all perseverance and intercession for all the saints.  And also for me.  Pray that God will give me his words to speak when I open my mouth, so that I can make known, loud and clear, the secret truth of the gospel.  That after all, is why I'm a chained-up ambassador.  Pray that I may announce it boldly; that's what I'm duty-bound to do.” Paul was in prison because of his preaching, because he'd put on the armour of God and because he'd proclaimed God's truth.  But he knew that prison could not stop the march of the gospel and so he asked his brothers and sisters to pray for him—and not only for him, but live prayer, because that's what it means to be united to Jesus and to be baptised in God's Spirit—to be in constant communion with God.  It's not just about formal prayer—like when you sit down with your Prayer Book and your Bible and you prayer the prayers and pray the Psalms.  It's a life saturated with the presence of God and with communion with him. I don't know how it works.  I don't think anyone does.  I've read books and books on prayer and it remains a mystery, but the best ones all conclude: I don't know how it works, but I know it works.  Prayer doesn't change God—as if somehow hearing from me causes him to realise that my ideas and my plans are better than his.  But prayer changes things and it changes me and it changes us and things—kingdom things, grace things, glory things—happen when we pray and live in that communion with God. Brothers and Sisters, to pray is to act on and to live out the reality of Jesus' cross and of the new creation he's made us.  It's to know that, through Jesus and the Spirit, we can now walk with God the way Adam and Eve once did.  That we live in his presence and in his grace and in his love.  It's to know that he is our strength.  And so to pray, is to be what he has made us, it's to consciously reject our rebellion and sin, and to be his new creation.  The mice—they know nothing of sin, nothing of rebellion.  Mice have always been what God made them in the beginning.  And, like I said, because of that, mice give him glory even when they're just doing the ordinary things mice do.  We, on the other hand, rejected that life.  Jesus has given it back, but it's a struggle.  That's why Paul urges us to put on God's truth and justice, his righteousness and peace.  And it's why he urges us to pray without ceasing.  Because reliance on God is the only way we'll put to rest our old nature and be able to live into the new one he's given.  To pray is to look back to the cross in gratitude and to look forward in hope to God's new world, and find our life and our strength and everything else that matters in him—so that we can stand firm and so that we can glorify him. So, Brothers and Sisters, stand firm.  Stand firm and be the new creation that Jesus has made us.  Remember that we stand with our king in the battle, but that this battle is not against flesh and blood.  It's against the dark powers that corrupt flesh and blood, that make us hate and that make us enemies of one another.  Stand firm in God's truth and justice, stand firm in his peace and his salvation.  And confront the world with the good news of Jesus, crucified and risen.  And pray, pray, pray, remembering that he is with us and that he is our strength and our hope. Let's pray: Merciful Lord, grant to your faithful people pardon and peace; that we may be cleansed from all our sins, and serve you with a quiet mind; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever.  Amen.

This is a summary of a special episode of the Gospel Addict Podcast, hosted by Greg Bryan and Jim Reske, featuring Kent Chevalier, the chaplain for the Pittsburgh Steelers. Greg Bryan, a self-proclaimed diehard Steelers fan who was born in Pittsburgh, expressed his excitement about learning more about Chevalier's ministryKent Chevalier, the chaplain for the Pittsburgh Steelers, described his path to NFL ministry, which began after 22 years as a local church pastor when tight end Vance McDonald started attending his church, leading to an invitation to serve the team alongside his wife, Erica, through Athletes in Action (AIA). Chevalier's ministry role involves offering separate Bible studies for players, coaches, and their families, maintaining the "ministry of availability" on the sidelines, and providing a half-hour, gospel-centered chapel service the night before games to "bring church to them". He addresses the intense pressures of fame and wealth by challenging rookies to recognize that the NFL stands for "not for long" (the average career is barely three years) and that their identity must be built on Christ, not the "ball," clicks, or money, reinforcing that they are "human beings," not "human doings". Chevalier initiated the "Deflect the Glory" movement, urging players to bend the knee and deflect praise and worship back to God, with associated apparel sales raising funds for overlooked Pittsburgh ministries. Finally, he is writing a book, Do It Afraid: Jumping into Your God-given Purpose, which includes the LEAP framework (Let God lead, Express your fears, Ask for wisdom, Pray through it) for navigating significant, faith-based decisions.Chevalier's website is:  www.teamchevalier.com/

In Isaiah 52, there is a vivid image of a messenger running over the mountains to bring good news—peace, salvation, and the proclamation that “Your God reigns!” The apostle Paul echoes this in Romans 10, reminding us that everyone who has been saved is also sent to share the Gospel. Like that ancient runner, we carry the hope of Jesus to a world still waiting for good news. Wherever your feet take you, carry that hope and share Jesus to a world that needs Him.

Your God-given destiny isn't random — it's revealed through purpose. In this message, discover the 3 divine mandates Jesus gave that unlock your calling: to reach the lost, to die to self, and to be a difference-maker in your world. These are the “greater works” He promised — not just miracles, but transformed lives through love, service, and faith.

Order of Service: - Prelude - Announcement - The Small Catechism (pp. 31-39): The Ten Commandments (read responsively) - Hymn 488 - I Am, Alone, Your God and Lord: vv. 1-3 - Matthew 22:37-40: Jesus said to him, “‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.' This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.' On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.” - Hymn 488 - I Am, Alone, Your God and Lord: vv. 4-7 - Devotion - Hymn 488 - I Am, Alone, Your God and Lord: vv. 8-10 - Prayer - Hymn 593 - On My Heart Imprint Thine Image - Blessing - Postlude Service Participants: Prof. Tom Rank (Preacher), Rev. Prof. Mark DeGarmeaux (Organist)

It's Wednesday, October 8th, A.D. 2025. This is The Worldview in 5 Minutes heard on 140 radio stations and at www.TheWorldview.com.  I'm Adam McManus. (Adam@TheWorldview.com) By Jonathan Clark 88 countries restrict Bible access The Bible Access Initiative released a list of nations where access to the Bible is restricted. Eighty-eight countries have at least some restrictions on Bible access. The country with the most extreme restrictions is Somalia followed by Afghanistan, Yemen, and North Korea.  The Bible Access List noted, “Bible access in Somalia is not just limited; it is outlawed. Under a strict interpretation of Sharia law, it is illegal to print, import, store, or distribute Bibles.” Many of the countries with the worst restrictions are Muslim-majority nations governed by Sharia law. In 2 Timothy 2:8-9, the Apostle Paul reminds us, “Remember Jesus Christ, risen from the dead, the offspring of David, as preached in my gospel, for which I am suffering, bound with chains as a criminal. But the word of God is not bound!” 20,000 Canadian pro-lifers stood in Life Chain An estimated 20,000 pro-lifers joined Canada's 35th annual Life Chain on Sunday. Participants took the streets across hundreds of cities in Canada. They held pro-life signs along roadways and prayed for the end of abortion. Josie Luetke with the Campaign Life Coalition told LifeSiteNews, “You see longtime, elderly activists with their walkers and lawn chairs and families with young kids running around. Life Chain is really a group effort . . . and it is a joy to see the entire pro-life movement united in this cause on this one day.” 30% of Canadian 11 to 13-year-olds open to church if invited Speaking of Canada, youth evangelism ministry OneHope released a report on the spiritual state of Generation Alpha in the country. The study covered young people between the ages of 11-13.  Forty-nine percent of respondents identified as Christian, 35% as non-religious, and 16% as other religions. Only 27% of Gen Alpha Christians qualified as committed Christians through Biblical beliefs and regular prayer and Bible reading.   Among non-religious teens, 30% said they would be open to attending a Christian church service if a friend invited them.  Trump eager to cut billions in waste and abuse during shutdown In the United States, the federal government shutdown continues as funding proposals from Republicans and Democrats keep failing in the Senate.  Democrats are withholding support for a funding bill unless it extends Obamacare subsidies. Republicans want to deal with the issue later in the year. President Donald Trump said he wants to use the shutdown to cut billions of dollars of waste, fraud and abuse.  Listen.  TRUMP: “Because of the shutdown, which I think they made a big mistake, we're able to take out billions and billions of dollars of waste, fraud and abuse. And they've handed it [to us] on a silver platter. Elon Musk: Cancel your NetFlix subscription over transgender shows Tech billionaire Elon Musk is echoing recent calls for people to cancel their Netflix subscriptions over immoral programming for children.  He posted on X last Wednesday, “Cancel Netflix for the health of your kids”.  The shares of Netflix dropped nearly 5% over the course of last week. The recent trend to cancel Netflix resulted from conservative voices exposing Netflix for pushing transgender shows on children.  More Americans perceive having kids as a blessing Pew Research released a new report showing that more people view having children as a good thing for America. Fifty-three percent of U.S. adults say that if more people choose not to have children, it will have a negative impact on the country. That percentage is up from 47% last year. Only 20% of respondents said that people choosing not to have children would be positive for America.  Among men, 59% said fewer people having children would have a negative impact. Among women, that number fell to 48%. Anniversary of William Tyndale's death for translation Bible into English And finally, this week is the anniversary of William Tyndale's death, traditionally commemorated on October 6. Tyndale faced arrest and later death in 1536 for alleged heresy. However, he had worked tirelessly to translate the Bible into English. It was his devotion to Scripture that brought him into conflict with church and civil leaders. In response to an assertion of the supremacy of the Pope, Tyndale famously said, “I defy the Pope and all his laws; and if God spares my life, ere many years, I will cause the boy that driveth the plow to know more of the Scriptures than thou dost!” Copies of Tyndale's translation were smuggled into England by the thousands. His work would form the basis of the Great Bible, edited by Miles Coverdale. It made its way into every parish church just three years after Tyndale's death. Isaiah 52:7 says, “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good news, who publishes peace, who brings good news of happiness, who publishes salvation, who says to Zion, ‘Your God reigns.'” Close And that's The Worldview on this Wednesday, October 8th, in the year of our Lord 2025, my bride Amy's 49th birthday. Read our love story.  Follow The Worldview on X or subscribe for free by Spotify, Amazon Music, or by iTunes or email to our unique Christian newscast at www.TheWorldview.com.  I'm Adam McManus (Adam@TheWorldview.com). Seize the day for Jesus Christ.

This week we will spend time in simple, quiet worship. Let's simply focus on God and His goodness. Breathe deep and allow your spirit to connect to His Holy Spirit.Psalm 29 from The Message — A Psalm of David Bravo, God, bravo! Gods and all angels shout, “Encore!”In awe before the glory, in awe before God's visible power.Stand at attention! Dress your best to honor him!God thunders across the waters,Brilliant, his voice and his face, streaming brightness—God, across the flood waters.God's thunder tympanic, God's thunder symphonic.God's thunder smashes cedars, God topples the northern cedars.The mountain ranges skip like spring colts, The high ridges jump like wild kid goats.God's thunder spits fire.God thunders, the wilderness quakes; He makes the desert of Kadesh shake.God's thunder sets the oak trees dancing A wild dance, whirling; the pelting rain strips their branches.We fall to our knees—we call out, “Glory!”Above the floodwaters is God's throne from which his power flows, from which he rules the world. God makes his people strong. God gives his people peace.What words, what phrases stood out to you?What games of God moved your spirit to worship?Listen once again to the final verses:We fall to our knees—we call out, “Glory!”Above the floodwaters is God's throne from which his power flows, from which he rules the world. God makes his people strong. God gives his people peace.As you walk through hardships and the challenges of your life, remember that Your God is the God of the thunder, of the rain, and of glory and power. He has you. He holds you. To make you strong. To give you peace.Let's pray: “Father, I realize Your power. I recognize Your glory. Today, in this quiet moment, I worship You. Thank You for Your strong arm that protects my life. Thank You for Your gentle Spirit to give me peace. As above, so below.”

Episode Title: United We Stand*The Purposefully Fit Podcast is designed to inspire, motivate, and encourage you to pursue YOUR God-given passion purposefully.Visit Coach NikE's Website: IAmNikE.com

Modern Christians often miss the central message of the Bible: the reign of God through His Son. In this episode, Steve Wood explores how the theme of the King and His Kingdom is essential for understanding Colossians, Revelation, and the Gospels. Drawing on Colossians 1, Isaiah 52, and insights from leading scholars, we see how the Gospel is not just good news in general, but the royal proclamation that “Your God reigns.” This background sets the stage for grasping Paul's vision of Christ's kingdom and the sovereignty of God throughout Scripture. For more resources, visit us online at www.BibleforCatholics.com. 

I had the opportunity to spend 24 hours of my life in the city of Athens in Greece. I was on my way home from a teaching mission, and if I only had 24 hours, well, I knew what I wanted to see. I wanted to see the Acropolis, and there it was on a hill that just dominates the entire city. That's where the ancient Greeks built a temple to their goddess, Athena, after whom, obviously, the city was named. Even after 21 centuries, I've got to tell you it is still an impressive, imposing, dominating structure up there on the mountain. Maybe you can even see a picture of it in your mind, if you've ever seen one before. It was the most sacred, most protected, most honored place in all of Athens. In fact, it was actually a crime to violate that temple. Of course it was that way in many cultures. The temple always got first-class treatment because your gods live there. Well, those ancient people had the wrong god, but they knew what to do with a temple. I'm Ron Hutchcraft and I want to have A Word With You today about "The Temple In The Mirror." Now, our word for today from the Word of God comes from 1 Corinthians 6:19-20. It's not about the Acropolis, it's not about the ancient Jewish temple, but it's about temples. Listen to where the temple is. "Do you not know that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your body." This is one of Christianity's most revolutionary ideas - you are the building God lives in. You can go in the bathroom, look in the mirror and see His temple. Even pagan people knew that the way you take care of your god's dwelling place tells a lot about how you feel about your god. Now, if you know Christ, you are God's two-legged temple. He's come to live in you by the presence of His Holy Spirit. That puts a whole new significance on your body - what happens with your mouth, your mind, your eyes, your ears, your hands, your feet, and every part of your body. Because in a sense, what you do with that body - everything you do with it - God is a part of. He lives in that temple. Everything you do to that body, you do to God. Now, even people without God in ancient days recognized that you guard, and you protect, and you keep special, and you honor the place where God lives. Let me ask you, "Have you been treating your body like the temple treasure that it is?" See, if you really care about your God much, you won't let His temple get run down. You won't let it have to carry the extra weight it's been carrying. You won't let it be too out-of-shape. You won't poison it with things that should never go into it; things that will degrade your body. It's a temple you're talking about, not just your body. That's a whole new reason to take care of it. See, that temple advertises what your god is like, and God deserves the best! Maybe you've devalued that temple with some junk you've been putting into it. Maybe you have defamed the temple of God by playing around sexually with His temple, dragging the name of God and the presence of God into things He is so much against, using His temple to satisfy your glands. Your body isn't yours. See, it was bought with the price of Jesus' blood. Your God lives there! Keep it special.

Episode Title: Anxiety Won't Win*The Purposefully Fit Podcast is designed to inspire, motivate, and encourage you to pursue YOUR God-given passion purposefully.Visit Coach NikE's Website: IAmNikE.com

I remember it like yesterday: Professor Joe Master was the most intimidating instructor I ever encountered during my accounting degree. He'd call on you, and you'd better be ready. At one point, for six weeks, I was sicker than a dog. With temperatures over 102 (and eventually discovering I had pneumonia), I went to class every week, dreading whether Mr. Master would get me up in front of the class to answer a tough question. Then this professor did something unexpected: He never called on me once. He showed me compassion when I needed it most. Life has a way of bringing us to desperate places where we question if God cares about our pain or our struggle. Writing about this kind of grief and pain, the weeping prophet Jeremiah makes a declaration that you need to hear today: “Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness” (Lamentations 3:22–23, NIV). When you're at the end of your rope and maybe even at the end of your hope, remember this truth: Your God is the God of compassion.

Agrippas, the Roman general, asked Rabban Gamliel (paraphrase): Your God is a jealous God, but people are only jealous of those who are in real competition, so how can He be jealous of idols, which are fundamentally nothing? Plus, an example of a man who takes a second wife, and when that will make the first wife feel bad (in analogy to God vs. idolatry). Also, a challenge from people who are seemingly healed by idols. Plus, the perfect timing of suffering that can then confuse bystanders. Also, a focus on wine-making and taking the juice out of the grape - when does it become wine? (for halakhic concerns). Plus, draining the grapes and the implications as compared to juice flowing easily.

Have you ever made a fort? Or a tree house? Maybe you just used all the blankets in your home to build a tent fort in your living room? Our lesson this week is about a special place that God made so that he could dwell or live with His people. He wanted to be near them, to live among them, He wanted to be their God. Did you know that He wants to live in you? If you open your heart to Him, He will dwell in you and be YOUR God! Year A Quarter 3 Week 31All Bible verses are from the NKJVHymn: The Lord is in His Holy TempleYear A Quarter 3 Week 30All Bible verses are from the NKJVWrite to Ms. Katie: seedpod@startingwithjesus.comKatie's Korner: https://startingwithjesus.com/katies-korner/Find the Lessons Here:Kindergarten https://bit.ly/SeedPodKLessonsPrimary https://bit.ly/SeedPodPLessonsConnect with Us:Website: https://startingwithjesus.comStarting With Jesus - YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/c/StartingWithJesusSeedPod - YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCCvU2FBPEL5-Zi2QW0STVLgInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/startingwithjesusFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/startingwithjesusAcknowledgments:Bible Readings this week: JuliaPodcast Producer: Katie ChitwoodSound Engineer: Dillon AustinMy Bible First, https://bit.ly/SeedPodLesson for use of their Bible Lesson curriculum.AudioVerse, https://www.audioverse.org/ for partnering with us and supporting our ministry.Lindsey Mills, for writing and performing our SeedPod Kids Theme Song & Background Music.To learn more about her music or to get her CD, email her: lindsey@startingwithjesus.com 

Have you ever made a fort? Or a tree house? Maybe you just used all the blankets in your home to build a tent fort in your living room? Our lesson this week is about a special place that God made so that he could dwell or live with His people. He wanted to be near them, to live among them, He wanted to be their God. Did you know that He wants to live in you? If you open your heart to Him, He will dwell in you and be YOUR God! Year A Quarter 3 Week 31All Bible verses are from the NKJVHymn: The Lord is in His Holy TempleYear A Quarter 3 Week 30All Bible verses are from the NKJVWrite to Ms. Katie: seedpod@startingwithjesus.comKatie's Korner: https://startingwithjesus.com/katies-korner/Find the Lessons Here:Kindergarten https://bit.ly/SeedPodKLessonsPrimary https://bit.ly/SeedPodPLessonsConnect with Us:Website: https://startingwithjesus.comStarting With Jesus - YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/c/StartingWithJesusSeedPod - YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCCvU2FBPEL5-Zi2QW0STVLgInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/startingwithjesusFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/startingwithjesusAcknowledgments:Bible Readings this week: JuliaPodcast Producer: Katie ChitwoodSound Engineer: Dillon AustinMy Bible First, https://bit.ly/SeedPodLesson for use of their Bible Lesson curriculum.AudioVerse, https://www.audioverse.org/ for partnering with us and supporting our ministry.Lindsey Mills, for writing and performing our SeedPod Kids Theme Song & Background Music.To learn more about her music or to get her CD, email her: lindsey@startingwithjesus.com 

Have you ever made a fort? Or a tree house? Maybe you just used all the blankets in your home to build a tent fort in your living room? Our lesson this week is about a special place that God made so that he could dwell or live with His people. He wanted to be near them, to live among them, He wanted to be their God. Did you know that He wants to live in you? If you open your heart to Him, He will dwell in you and be YOUR God! Year A Quarter 3 Week 31All Bible verses are from the NKJVHymn: The Lord is in His Holy TempleYear A Quarter 3 Week 30All Bible verses are from the NKJVWrite to Ms. Katie: seedpod@startingwithjesus.comKatie's Korner: https://startingwithjesus.com/katies-korner/Find the Lessons Here:Kindergarten https://bit.ly/SeedPodKLessonsPrimary https://bit.ly/SeedPodPLessonsConnect with Us:Website: https://startingwithjesus.comStarting With Jesus - YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/c/StartingWithJesusSeedPod - YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCCvU2FBPEL5-Zi2QW0STVLgInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/startingwithjesusFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/startingwithjesusAcknowledgments:Bible Readings this week: JuliaPodcast Producer: Katie ChitwoodSound Engineer: Dillon AustinMy Bible First, https://bit.ly/SeedPodLesson for use of their Bible Lesson curriculum.AudioVerse, https://www.audioverse.org/ for partnering with us and supporting our ministry.Lindsey Mills, for writing and performing our SeedPod Kids Theme Song & Background Music.To learn more about her music or to get her CD, email her: lindsey@startingwithjesus.com 

Have you ever made a fort? Or a tree house? Maybe you just used all the blankets in your home to build a tent fort in your living room? Our lesson this week is about a special place that God made so that he could dwell or live with His people. He wanted to be near them, to live among them, He wanted to be their God. Did you know that He wants to live in you? If you open your heart to Him, He will dwell in you and be YOUR God! Year A Quarter 3 Week 31All Bible verses are from the NKJVHymn: The Lord is in His Holy TempleYear A Quarter 3 Week 30All Bible verses are from the NKJVWrite to Ms. Katie: seedpod@startingwithjesus.comKatie's Korner: https://startingwithjesus.com/katies-korner/Find the Lessons Here:Kindergarten https://bit.ly/SeedPodKLessonsPrimary https://bit.ly/SeedPodPLessonsConnect with Us:Website: https://startingwithjesus.comStarting With Jesus - YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/c/StartingWithJesusSeedPod - YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCCvU2FBPEL5-Zi2QW0STVLgInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/startingwithjesusFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/startingwithjesusAcknowledgments:Bible Readings this week: JuliaPodcast Producer: Katie ChitwoodSound Engineer: Dillon AustinMy Bible First, https://bit.ly/SeedPodLesson for use of their Bible Lesson curriculum.AudioVerse, https://www.audioverse.org/ for partnering with us and supporting our ministry.Lindsey Mills, for writing and performing our SeedPod Kids Theme Song & Background Music.To learn more about her music or to get her CD, email her: lindsey@startingwithjesus.com 

In 1 Kings 19, Pastor John reminds us that when our faith is under fire, God meets us with compassion—not shame. He is faithful to His covenant and gently calls us back to His presence and purpose. No failure cancels His calling on your life. Your God is compassionateYour God is covenant keeping Your God has a call for you Life Group Discussion:When have you felt like Elijah—exhausted, discouraged, or done—and how did God meet you in that moment?What are some “mountaintop moments” in your life where you've clearly experienced God's presence or promises?How can you be faithful to take the next step in the calling God has for your life, even if you don't feel fully ready?

In 1 Kings 19, Pastor John reminds us that when our faith is under fire, God meets us with compassion—not shame. He is faithful to His covenant and gently calls us back to His presence and purpose. No failure cancels His calling on your life. Your God is compassionateYour God is covenant keeping Your God has a call for you Life Group Discussion:When have you felt like Elijah—exhausted, discouraged, or done—and how did God meet you in that moment?What are some “mountaintop moments” in your life where you've clearly experienced God's presence or promises?How can you be faithful to take the next step in the calling God has for your life, even if you don't feel fully ready?

St. Alphonsus you have said: You are not asked to apply your mind continually to the thought of God and lay aside the fulfillment of your duties and your recreations. ... Your God is ever beside you—indeed, He is even within you. “In Him we live, and move, and have our being.” (Acts 17:28). Not only is there no need of an intermediary through whom He would want you to speak to Him, but He finds His delight in having you treat with Him personally and in all confidence. Speak to Him often of your business, your plans, your troubles, your fears—of everything that concerns you. But above all, converse with Him confidently and frankly; for God is not wont to speak to a soul that does not speak to Him.. The post Novena to St. Alphonsus Liguori – Day 5 – Discerning Hearts Podcast appeared first on Discerning Hearts Catholic Podcasts.