I felt sick around 4 weeks before, suffered from a nasty flu for about two weeks on the third week i had recovered. My stepdad asked me to create a website for his company. interestingly, i did it a ease. I find it very interesting. now i am back to the usual routine.
DRDCEWMEC- i have found out new ways of recording the CBT techiniques on to my fitnes pal so that i am not only recording the diet and excercise but also making notes for the CBT.
As for today i woke up inthe morning aorund 11am. I realise the situation at my rented house. the outside environment is very difficult for me to sleep. I thinking moving outside of here and moving to a larger also quieter apartment would deemed to be neccessary for me in the near coming future. So from now on my routine has changed to sleep at 12am so that i am wake up around 8 to 9 am then i will start my day. today i woke up 11am then i had two coffee i took the usual supplements following the CBT strategies.
CBT; 1. meditation 2.diary 3. supplements including omega three, multivitamin and vitamin d3 4. sleep music 5. sleep tea 6. sleep perfume 7. cold room 8. lavender shower gel and shampoo (from 1 to 6 are active and 7 and 8 are passive). another classification is that the diary belong the the D and the other 7 are the CBT which belong to the C.
After i took the supplement i went to the gym. I realised i had no groceries left so i took the supplements with two cups of coffes and one mug of milk and i developed very bad diarroeah around 4-5 times. very good for losing the weight that is the good side.
later on the day i completed my food diary and then read sunzi, 33 strategies of the war and 36 military strategies of chinese warfare. One thing i learned most today is the ending strategy. Most ppl when they declared a war with others, they did not end with good terms and they will resume back to the original enenemies for no reason. Robert greene state that if you know/ analysis the situation, most often this is because of either of conflicting interest or the way of human behaviou human nature. very often there is nothing we can do about it. e.g. if this business or coroperation is against this someone's interest then obvious both you and him cannot come into terms. on the other hand let's say if he who can longer come into terms or taking advantage of you then he would hate you if you do not delater the ending strategy. From the famous quote the kindeness does not necessarily breed kindess in return in this world by Robert greene. The pp who do not understand this principal would struggle greatly.
Application: recently my roomate had trouble with me using the shared bathroom with him. he is claiming that he find it too difficult to share with me because he would like it to be more available with him . we had two shared bathroom one upstairs right next to me and one downstairs. I orignially agreed with him that it is ok for me to go downstairs if it is not too urgent but if it is then obviously i had to rushed to the one closer to me. Despit having repeated conversation i have devided to use the ending strategies.
There are a lot of ppl in this world who do not understand the society. they sort of live the world of their own in the example of my roommate he only considers for himself that if the bathroom near him is more available to him then it would be conveient and beneficial but he forgets to consider that what might seems convinient for him would also be conviniet for the others. this brings the key to advancing social skills, being a ppl person simplys means considerate more about others not only yourself. From the famous saying fit yourself into other ppl's boots. interestly, there are a lot of ppl in this world who does not understand this despite many years of repeptive failure experiences. in this situation because i had conversation over and over, i would not need to talk to him again. simply because if he does not get this principal then no matter how many times i expalinning to him it wouldn't make any difference. so what's the point really? so now it's the time to use the ending strategy. this is 1. the issue with the interest 2. the nature of the room who does not understand the common principles in life despite many times of repetitive explaining. the best practice now is to leave it there.
another learinig point of this strategy is the learn how to end the failure. in the past i had also experience failures and like many ppl i had learn to dealt with my failure 1. being hopelss and despair - thinking this is the end of the world and now there's nothing i can do 2. having negative thoughts and action about the society - blaming, accusing, being extremly defensive about yourself think everything happened is the fault of society 3. find nothing positive about the past failure experience and fallen into constant cycle of regreat.
what Robert said in his book as 1. Do not treat failure as failure but as a lesson to sucess so you need to know that both failures and success is in a constant cycles of repetition that is a common norm. what you need to do is to deeply analyse your failure and learn something useful out of it. this is also expalined in Rober kiosaki book do not just let life pushes you around instead learn something out of it which makes you stronger and smarter everyday 2. instead of being negative all times you should start learning some postitives out of it. this is greatly illustratd by the chinese philosophy so Ying and Yang. No matter how bad something gets as long as you are still alive there must be a corresponding positives. in other words if something is really happening terrible to your life then after you analysed it very carefully then there must also be at least one correponding huge positive. e.g. for my i graduated from pharmacy shcool becuase of my condition i cannot become pharmacist in the past i always thought of how other ppl in this society always descriminat me but on the other hands i have also learned the fundamental rules and algothrim of the society which is a key thing to master in order to thrive in this society. at the same time i als found my passion in tech, web desigh and cyber and going to pursue a carrere in this field. imagine if i never experienced these failures then how could i possibly learn and self develop and figure out my true passion. 3. feel extremely excited about failures since i just told you failures in life is inevitable and yuo know that failures taught us how to succed failures taught us how to thrive and strive better in life and in this society, failure has taught me how to fucntion better and accpeted better in this society, failure has taught me the importance of finding your target, do not be afraid, action and immeditate execution and the importance of long lasting perseverance. then now why are you afraid and why you are running away?

Awhile back I read a discussion, probably on Reddit, in which a professed psychopath (I'll call him Pepe) criticized normal people/neurotypicals (NTs for short) for not living up to their supposed principles. Pepe felt that NTs were more like psychopaths than they admitted, and were faking, or at least greatly exaggerating, their feelings in order to manipulate/virtue signal.
Pepe had a point about NTs often not living up to their proclaimed moral principles, but seemingly overreacted in assuming NTs were largely faking their feelings.
Pepe reminded me a lot of The Joker character (famously portrayed by Heath Ledger) from The Dark Knight. The Joker expressed a similar attitude toward "normal people" (NTs) Quote:

You see, their morals, their code... it's a bad joke. Dropped at the first sign of trouble. Their only as good as the world allows them to be. I'll show you. When the chips are down, these "civilized people" — they'll eat each other.

The Joker seems to resent "civilized" people's sense of superiority to those like him, so he uses terrorism to wipe away this phony veneer of decency and expose all the supposedly "decent" people for the selfish, amoral beings much more like himself he believes them to be.
I got the sense that Pepe was in denial about how different he was from NTs, and was unconsciously trying to validate his sense of superiority by denouncing NTs as hypocrites. The Joker had a similar, but seemingly less judgmental perspective — while Pepe simply disdained NTs, The Joker seemed to be engaged in constructive criticism, wanting to convert people to his "no rules" philosophy. Again, maybe this was just The Joker (like Pepe) narcissistically valorizing his psychopathy. And, sure, maybe The Joker was just pretending to have a higher purpose, but I would ignore this last possibility because 1) It leads to infinite regress and 2) It's fucking boring, yo.
I guess I am wondering two things about this: 1) What do you think of the Joker as a depiction of a psychopath? And 2) What did you think of the movie itself, especially its themes of morality and human nature?

Awhile back I read a discussion, probably on Reddit, in which a professed psychopath (I'll call him Pepe) criticized neurotypicals (NTs) for not living up to their supposed principles. Pepe felt that NTs were more like psychopaths than they admitted, and were faking, or at least greatly exaggerating, their feelings in order to manipulate/virtue signal.
Pepe had a point about NTs often not living up to their proclaimed moral principles, but seemingly overreacted in assuming NTs were largely faking their feelings.
Pepe reminded me a lot of The Joker character (famously portrayed by Heath Ledger) from The Dark Knight. The Joker expressed a similar attitude toward "normal people." Quote:

You see, their morals, their code... it's a bad joke. Dropped at the first sign of trouble. Their only as good as the world allows them to be. I'll show you. When the chips are down, these "civilized people" — they'll eat each other.

The Joker seems to resent "civilized" people's sense of superiority to those like him, so he uses terrorism to wipe away this phony veneer of decency and expose all the supposedly "decent" people for the selfish, amoral beings much more like himself that he believes them to be.
I got the sense that Pepe was in denial about how different he was from NTs, and was unconsciously trying to validate his sense of superiority by denouncing NTs as hypocrites. The Joker had a similar, but seemingly less judgmental perspective — while Pepe simply disdained NTs, The Joker seemed to be engaged in constructive criticism, wanting to convert people to his "no rules" philosophy. Again, maybe this was just The Joker (like Pepe) narcissistically valorizing his anarchistic lifestyle. And, sure, maybe The Joker was just pretending to have a higher purpose, but I would ignore this last possibility because 1) It leads to infinite regress and 2) It's fucking boring, yo!
I guess I am wondering two things about this: 1) What do you think of the Joker as a depiction of a psychopath? And 2) What did you think of the movie itself, especially its themes of morality and human nature?

A friend of mine posted the following wall of text on Facebook. I feel the need to respond somehow but I’m not sure what to say. All these years later I still fear Hell and this post bothers me on a moral level.
Should I counter with “why would a loving god do this?” Should I refute the quotes which I doubt? Should I ask why Christians seem to relish the idea of people going to Hell?

“FAMOUS ATHEISTS' LAST WORDS BEFORE DEATH: 1. ANTON LEVEY—Author of the Satanic Bible and high priest of the religion dedicated to the worship of Satan. One of his famous quotes was: “There is a beast in man that needs to be exercised, not exorcised”. His dying words were: "Oh my, oh my, what have I done, there is something very wrong. . . there is something very wrong.”

1. GANDHI—At his death, he said, “For the first time in 50 years, I find myself in the slough of despond. All about me is darkness. . .I am praying for light.”
   
2. THOMAS PAYNE—The leading atheistic writer in American colonies: "Stay with me, for God's sake; I cannot bear to be left alone , O Lord, help me! O God, what have I done to suffer so much? What will become of me hereafter? I would give worlds if I had them, that The Age of Reason had never been published. 0 Lord, help me! Christ, help me! No, don't leave; stay with me! Send even a child to stay with me; for I am on the edge of hell here alone. If ever the Devil had an agent, I have been that one."
   
3. SIR THOMAS SCOTT—Chancellor of England: "Until this moment I thought there was neither a God nor a hell. Now I know and feel that there are both, and I am doomed to perdition by the just judgment of the Almighty."
   
4. VOLTAIRE—famous anti-christian atheist: "I have swallowed nothing but smoke. I have intoxicated myself with the incense that turned my head. I am abandoned by God and man.” He said to his physician, Dr. Fochin: “I will give you half of what I am worth if you will give me six months of life." When he was told this was not possible, he said “Then I shall die and go to hell!" His nurse said: “For all the money in Europe I wouldn’t want to see another unbeliever die! All night long he cried for forgiveness.”
   
5. ROBERT INGERSOLL—American writer and orator during the Golden Age of Free Thought: "O God, if there be a God, save my soul, if I have a soul!" Some say it was said this way: "Oh God, if there be a God, save my soul, if I have a soul, from hell, if there be a hell!
   
6. DAVID HUME—Atheist philosopher famous for his philosophy of empiricism and skepticism of religion: He cried loud on his death bed "I am in flames!" It is said his desperation was a horrible scene.
   
7. NAPOLEON BONAPARTE—French emperor who, like Adolf Hitler, brought death to millions to satisfy his greedy, power-mad, selfish ambitions for world conquest: "I die before my time, and my body will be given back to the earth. Such is the fate of him who has been called the great Napoleon. What an abyss between my deep misery and the eternal kingdom of Christ!”
   
8. SIR FRANCIS NEWPORT—Head of an English Atheist club, to those gathered around his deathbed: "You need not tell me there is no God, for I know there is one, and that I am in his presence! You need not tell me there is no hell. I feel myself already slipping. Wretches, cease your idle talk about there being hope for me! I know I am lost forever! Oh, that fire! Oh, the insufferable pangs of hell! Oh, that I could lie for a thousand years upon the fire that is never quenched, to purchase the favor of God and be united to Him again. But it is a fruitless wish. Millions and millions of years will bring me no nearer the end of my torments than one poor hour. Oh, eternity, eternity forever and forever! Oh, the insufferable pangs of Hell!”
   
9. CHARLES IX—The French king. Urged on by his mother, he gave the order for the massacre of the French Huguenots, in which 15,000 souls were slaughtered in Paris alone and 100,000 in other sections of France, for no other reason than that they loved Christ. The guilty king suffered miserably for years after that event. He finally died, bathed in blood bursting from his veins. To his physicians, he said in his last hours: "Asleep or awake, I see the mangled forms of the Huguenots passing before me. They drop with blood. They point at their open wounds. Oh! That I had spared at least the little infants at the bosom! What blood! I know not where I am. How will all this end? What shall I do? I am lost forever! I know it. Oh, I have done wrong."
   
10. DAVID STRAUSS—Leading representative of German rationalism, after spending a lifetime erasing belief in God from the minds of others: "My philosophy leaves me utterly forlorn! I feel like one caught in the merciless jaws of an automatic machine, not knowing at what time one of its great hammers may crush me!"
    
11. JOSEF STALIN—Soviet Georgian revolutionary and politician. In a Newsweek interview with Svetlana Stalin, the daughter of Josef Stalin, she told of her father's death: "My father died a difficult and terrible death. . .God grants an easy death only to the just. At what seemed the very last moment, he suddenly opened his eyes and cast a glance over everyone in the room. It was a terrible glance, insane or perhaps angry. His left hand was raised, as though he were pointing to something above and bringing down a curse on us all. The gesture was full of menace. . .the next moment he was dead."
    
12. CAESAR BORGIA—Italian nobleman, politician, and cardinal: "While I lived, I provided for everything but death; now I must die, and am unprepared to die."
    
13. THOMAS HOBBS—Political philosopher: "I say again, if I had the whole world at my disposal, I would give it to live one day. I am about to take a leap into the dark."
    

BELOVED, compare these last words from atheists, with these last words, from these saints of God:
THE APOSTLE PAUL: “O death, where is thy sting?”
KING DAVID: “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no Evil.”
AUGUSTUS MONTAGUE TOPLADY (1710-1778): Toplady will ever be famous as the author of one of the most evangelical hymns of the eighteenth century, "Rock of Ages," which was first published in 1776. During the final illness, Toplady was greatly supported by the consolations of the gospel: "The consolations of God, to so unworthy a wretch, are so abundant that he leaves me nothing to pray for but their continuance." Near his last, awaking from a sleep, he said: "Oh, what delights! Who can fathom the joy of the third heaven? The sky is clear, there is no cloud; come Lord Jesus, come quickly!" He died saying:"No mortal man can live after the glories which God has manifested to my soul."
Lastly, JESUS CHRIST said: “I Am the Resurrection and the Life. He that believeth on Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live.”
Only fools never learn from history, and it's amazing that even in our days, with all these facts on our fingertips, someone with a mind can devote his entire life to a delusion, and want everyone to know that there is no God. No wonder the bible says,
"Only fools say in their hearts, there is no God." (Psalm 14:1).“
Copied from Christian Page

As Reddit doesn't allow posts to exceed 40,000 characters, Eastwood's edition had to be split into two parts because his whole career cannot be ignored. The second part will be posted tomorrow.

Here's a new edition of "Directors at the Box Office", which seeks to explore the directors' trajectory at the box office and analyze their hits and bombs. I already talked about a few, and as I promised, it's Clint Eastwood's turn.
Eastwood was a troublemaker at school, and he had a bunch of odd jobs such as lifeguard, paper carrier, grocery clerk, forest firefighter, and golf caddy. In 1951, he was drafted into the United States Army during the Korean War and was discharged two years later. Through this, he got into contact with a Hollywood representative, who got him into acting classes and started his acting career. He got his start by starring in the hit show Rawhide, but he said he was exhausted by the experience. This caught the attention of some film producers and he decided to act in films directed by the then-unknown Sergio Leone. His career was on the rise, and then he got the chance to make his directorial debut.
From a box office perspective, how reliable was he to deliver a box office hit?
That's the point of this post. To analyze his career.

It should be noted that as he started his career in the 1970s, some of the domestic grosses here will be adjusted by inflation. The table with his highest grossing films, however, will be left in its unadjusted form, as the worldwide grosses are more difficult to adjust.

Play Misty for Me (1971)

"The scream you hear may be your own!"
His directorial debut. It stars Eastwood, Jessica Walter and Donna Mills, and follows a radio disc jockey being stalked by an obsessed female fan.
Before his colleague Irving Leonard died, he and Eastwood had discussed the idea of producing a film that was to give Eastwood the artistic control he desired, and his debut as a director. Eastwood said he was ready, "I stored away all the mistakes I made and saved up all the good things I learned, and now I know enough to control my own projects and get what I want out of actors."
The film was a huge success for Eastwood, and it also received positive reviews. So far, his directorial career was off to a great start.

• Budget: $950,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $10,600,000. ($81.7 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $10,600,000.
  

High Plains Drifter (1973)

"They'd never forget the day he drifted into town."
His second film. The film stars Eastwood, Verna Bloom and Mariana Hill, and follows a mysterious stranger who metes out justice in a corrupt frontier mining town.
Eastwood reportedly liked the offbeat quality of the film's original nine-page proposal and approached Universal with the idea of directing it, which would make it his first directed Western. The screenplay was inspired by the real-life murder of Kitty Genovese in Queens in 1964, which eyewitnesses reportedly stood by and watched. Holes in the plot were filled in with black humor and allegory, influenced by Sergio Leone.
It was well received, and the film even surpassed Play Misty for Me at the box office. Eastwood was just going up.

• Budget: $5,500,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $15,700,000. ($110.4 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $15,700,000.
  

Breezy (1973)

"Her name is Breezy."
His third film. It stars William Holden and Kay Lenz, and follows the relationship between a middle-aged real estate agent and a young hitchhiker.
This was his first directed film without starring on it. And his lack of presence certainly hurt the film; it received mixed reviews and flopped at the box office.

• Budget: $750,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $200,000. ($1.4 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $217,753.
  

The Eiger Sanction (1975)

"His lifeline, held by the assassin he hunted."
His fourth film. Based on the novel by Trevanian, the film stars Eastwood, George Kennedy, Vonetta McGee, and Jack Cassidy. It follows Jonathan Hemlock, an art history professor, mountain climber, and former assassin once employed by a secret government agency, who is blackmailed into returning to his deadly profession for one last mission.
The film received mixed reactions for its writing, and it wasn't a box office success either.

• Budget: $9,000,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $14,200,000. ($82.4 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $14,200,000.
  

The Outlaw Josey Wales (1976)

"An army of one."
His fifth film. Based on the novel Gone to Texas by Forrest Carter, it stars Eastwood, Chief Dan George, Sondra Locke, Bill McKinney and John Vernon. The film tells the story of Josey Wales, a Missouri farmer whose family is murdered by Union militia during the Civil War. Driven to revenge, Wales joins a Confederate guerrilla band and makes a name for himself as a feared gunfighter. After the war, all the fighters in Wales' group except for him surrender to Union soldiers, but the Confederates end up being massacred. Wales becomes an outlaw and is pursued by bounty hunters and Union soldiers as he tries to make a new life for himself.
Eastwood was fascinated by the novel and he bought the film rights, hoping to star on the film. He got Philip Kaufman involved as screenwriter and possible director, but left after disagreeing with Eastwood in the material adapted to the screen. Kaufman insisted on filming with a meticulous attention to detail, which caused disagreements with Eastwood, not to mention the attraction the two shared towards Locke and apparent jealousy on Kaufman's part in regard to their emerging relationship. This caused Eastwood to take over as the director. Kaufman's firing angered the DGA, as he did most of the pre-production, and sanctioning a $60,000 fine. This resulted in the Director's Guild passing a new rule, known as "the Eastwood Rule", which prohibits an actor or producer from firing the director and then personally taking on the director's role.
The film received critical acclaim, and in subsequent years, is ranked among Eastwood's greatest films. It was also a huge success at the box office, doubling his previous highest grossing film. It was also one of the few Western films to receive critical and commercial success in the 1970s at a time when the Western was thought to be dying as a major genre in Hollywood.

• Budget: $3,700,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $31,800,000. ($174.5 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $31,800,000.
  

The Gauntlet (1977)

"The man in the middle of..."
His sixth film. It stars Eastwood, Sondra Locke, Pat Hingle, William Prince, Bill McKinney, and Mara Corday. It follows a down-and-out cop who falls in love with a prostitute, to whom he is assigned to escort from Las Vegas to Phoenix for her to testify against the mob.
While it received mixed reviews, it became another box office success for Eastwood, becoming his now highest grossing film.

• Budget: $5,500,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $35,400,000. ($182.4 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $35,400,000.
  

Bronco Billy (1980)

"The most outrageous of 'em all."
His seventh film. The film stars Eastwood and Sondra Locke, and focuses on the financially-struggling owner of a traditional Wild West show and his new assistant.
It became another critical and commercial success for Eastwood, who referred to the film as one of his most affable shoots of his career.

• Budget: $6,500,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $24,265,659. ($91.9 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $24,265,659.
  

Firefox (1982)

"The most devastating killing machine ever built... his job... steal it!"
His eighth film. Based on the novel by Craig Thomas, it stars Eastwood, Freddie Jones and David Huffman. The Soviets have developed a revolutionary new jet fighter, called "Firefox". Naturally, the British are worried that the jet will be used as a first-strike weapon, as rumors say that the jet is undetectable on radar. They send ex-Vietnam War pilot Mitchell Gant on a covert mission into the Soviet Union to steal the Firefox.
The film received mixed reviews, but it earned almost $47 million, becoming Eastwood's highest grossing title as director.

• Budget: $21,000,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $46,708,276. ($151.1 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $46,708,276.
  

Honkytonk Man (1982)

"The boy is on his way to becoming a man. The man is on his way to becoming a legend."
His ninth film. It's based on the novel by Clancy Carlile, and it stars Eastwood and his son Kyle. It follows Red Stovall, a country music singer and composer. With his nephew Whit by his side, he travels to Nashville to perform at the Grand Ole Opry in the backdrop of the Great Depression.
While the film received acclaim, it earned just $4.4 million, becoming his second worst performer.

• Budget: $2,000,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $4,484,991. ($14.5 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $4,484,991.
  

Sudden Impact (1983)

"Dirty Harry is at it again."
His tenth film. The fourth installment in the Dirty Harry series, directed, it stars Eastwood and Sondra Locke. The film tells the story of a gang rape victim who decides to seek revenge on her rapists 10 years after the attack by killing them one by one. Inspector Harry Callahan, famous for his unconventional and often brutal crime-fighting tactics, is tasked with tracking down the serial killer.
The film received mixed reviews from critics, but it earned over $150 million worldwide, Eastwood's first film to pass that milestone. It's also very popular for including the iconic catchphrase, "Go ahead, make my day."

• Budget: $22,000,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $67,642,693. ($212.1 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $150,642,693.
  

Tightrope (1984)

"A cop on the edge..."
His 11th film. It stars Eastwood, Geneviève Bujold, Dan Hedaya, Alison Eastwood and Jennifer Beck, and follows a detective determined to hunt down a sadomasochistic serial killer of prostitutes.
The film became another critical and commercial success for Eastwood.

• Budget: N/A.
  
• Domestic gross: $48,143,579. ($144.7 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $48,143,579.
  

Pale Rider (1985)

"...And Hell followed with him."
His 12th film. It stars Eastwood, Michael Moriarty and Carrie Snodgress. A couple and their daughter, along with a few others, are driven out of Lahood, California, by goons working for a mining baron. However, a stranger enters their life to assist them in their fight.
There was no stopping Eastwood: another critical and commercial success.

• Budget: $6,900,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $41,410,568. ($120.2 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $41,410,568.
  

Heartbreak Ridge (1986)

"The scars run deep."
His 13th film. It stars Eastwood, Marsha Mason, Everett McGill, and Mario Van Peebles. The story centers on a U.S. Marine nearing retirement who gets a platoon of undisciplined Marines into shape and leads them during the American invasion of Grenada in 1983.
The film was inspired by an account of American paratroopers of the 82nd Airborne Division using a pay telephone and a credit card to call in fire support during the invasion of Grenada, and fashioned a script of a Korean War veteran career Army non-commissioned officer passing on his values to a new generation of soldiers. Eastwood was interested in the script and asked his producer, Fritz Manes, to contact the US Army with a view of filming the movie at Fort Bragg. However, the Army read the script and refused to participate, due to Highway being portrayed as a hard drinker, divorced from his wife, and using unapproved motivational methods to his troops, an image the Army did not want.
It received mixed reviews, with some deeming the film as "imperialist propaganda". But it was still another box office success.

• Budget: $15,000,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $42,724,017. ($121.7 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $121,700,000.
  

Bird (1988)

"There are no second acts in American lives."
His 14th film. The film stars Forest Whitaker and Diane Venora. It is constructed as a montage of scenes from saxophonist Charlie Parker's life, from his childhood in Kansas City, through his early death at the age of 34.
Eastwood, a lifelong fan of jazz, had been fascinated by Parker ever since seeing him perform live in Oakland in 1946. He approached Chan Parker, Bird's common-law wife on whose memoirs the script was based, for input, and she lent Eastwood and arranger Lennie Niehaus a collection of recordings from her private collection Before Eastwood was involved, Richard Pryor was originally cast as Parker.
Despitive positive reviews, it performed poorly, earning just $2.2 million in North America.

• Budget: $14,000,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $2,181,286. ($5.7 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $2,181,286.
  

White Hunter Black Heart (1990)

"An adventure in obsession."
His 15th film. Based on the novel by Peter Viertel, it stars Eastwood, Jeff Fahey, George Dzundza, Alun Armstrong and Marisa Berenson. It follows a famous movie director, John Wilson, who goes to Africa to make his next movie. He is an obstinate, contrary director who'd rather hunt elephants than take care of his crew or movie. He has become obsessed with one particular elephant and cares for nothing else.
Despite positive reviews, it made just $2.3 million domestically, not even 10% of the budget.

• Budget: $24,000,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $2,319,124. ($5.5 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $2,319,124.
  

The Rookie (1990)

His 16th film. The film stars Eastwood, Charlie Sheen, Raul Julia, Sônia Braga, Lara Flynn Boyle, and Tom Skerritt. It follows a veteran police officer teamed up with a younger detective, whose intent is to take down a German crime lord in downtown Los Angeles, following months of investigation into an exotic car theft ring.
It received negative reviews for its acting and story, and it became another flop for Eastwood. That's three bombs in a row. Ouch.

• Budget: $30,000,000.
  
• Domestic gross: $21,633,874. ($51.6 million adjusted)
  
• Worldwide gross: $21,633,874.
  

MOVIES (FROM HIGHEST GROSSING TO LEAST GROSSING)

No.	Movie	Year	Studio	Domestic Total	Overseas Total	Worldwide Total	Budget
x	Sudden Impact	1983	Warner Bros.	$67,642,693	$83,000,000	$150,642,693	$22M
x	Heartbreak Ridge	1986	Warner Bros.	$42,724,017	$78,975,983	$121,700,000	$15M
x	Tightrope	1984	Warner Bros.	$48,143,579	$0	$48,143,579	N/A
x	Firefox	1982	Warner Bros.	$46,708,276	$0	$46,708,276	$21M
x	Pale Rider	1985	Warner Bros.	$41,410,568	$0	$41,410,568	$6.9M
x	The Gauntlet	1977	Warner Bros.	$35,400,000	$0	$35,400,000	$5.5M
x	The Outlaw Josey Wales	1976	Warner Bros.	$31,800,000	$0	$31,800,000	$3.7M
x	Bronco Billy	1980	Warner Bros.	$24,265,659	$0	$24,265,659	$6.5M
x	The Rookie	1990	Warner Bros.	$21,633,874	$0	$21,633,874	$30M
x	High Plains Drifter	1973	Universal	$15,700,000	$0	$15,700,000	$5.5M
x	The Eiger Sanction	1975	Universal	$14,200,000	$0	$14,200,000	$9M
x	Play Misty for Me	1971	Universal	$10,600,000	$0	$10,600,000	$950K
x	Honkytonk Man	1982	Warner Bros.	$4,484,991	$0	$4,484,991	$2M
x	White Hunter Black Heart	1990	Warner Bros.	$2,319,124	$0	$2,319,124	$24M
x	Bird	1988	Warner Bros.	$2,181,286	$0	$2,181,286	$14M
x	Breezy	1973	Universal	$200,000	$17,753	$217,753	$750K

The Verdict

Hope you liked this edition. You can find this and more in the wiki for this section.
The next director will be Robert Zemeckis. One of the biggest falls from grace.
I asked you to choose who else should be in the run and the comment with the most upvotes would be chosen. It had to be a controversial filmmaker. Well, we'll later talk about... Zack Snyder. Oh, BoxOffice chose fuego 🔥
This is the schedule for the following four:

Week	Director	Reasoning
May 20-26	Robert Zemeckis	Can we get old Zemeckis back?
May 27-June 2	Richard Donner	An influential figure of the 70s and 80s.
June 3-9	Ang Lee	What happened to Lee?
June 10-16	Zack Snyder	RIP Inbox.

Who should be next after Snyder? That's up to you.

“If I had asked people what they wanted, they would have said faster horses.”
This is a famous quote that was said by someone who was not Henry Ford. But it's a good quote. Just very outdated. People in the 1900s may have for sure wanted faster horses. Instead, we got things like Buses, Trucks (the useful kind) and even cars, which do have their uses.
But nowadays, in the 2020s. I would say the people that don't know what they really want are wishing for something else. Self-driving cars. What people actually like, is to have a more comfortable commute and to not have to deal with the many stresses and complications of having to be the one driving the car. Of course, there are many solutions that are more effective at that than a theoretical self-driving car. And much like Faster Horses, we are not even sure if a true self-driving car is even possible (we can certainly have a bunch of half-assed self driving cars that crash on each other and kill people and require us to recreate our whole infrastructure and turn it into super-safe tunnels so that the self-driving car has no room to make mistakes)
And that's why I think we should start to colloquially use "Self-driving cars" as the new version of the faster horses. Time to stop thinking under the dying framework.

Ik onkar = there is only one God.
-This is my belief exactly. Which probably explains why I’ve always believed what I do. This is something I’ve had in my heart and mind since a child.
-Idolatry = wrong. There’s no need for it after all. God requires no intermediary.
Now my question comes down to this one thing which I’ve seen multiple different views on.
Were the Gurus God? Were they manifestations of God on Earth? God in human form? I’ve seen this claimed by some Sikhs but to me it makes zero sense nor did I ever believe this nor was I taught this.
-This is no different to the Christian’s who claim Jesus was exactly all of those things. So why the Gurus and not Jesus? Frankly The Gurus didn’t even make any mention of Jesus ever existing or Christianity so who’s to say he wasn’t?
So I would understand the gurus to be messengers. Who gave us a path to understand god. The gurus were enlightened souls. They understood God the way the sufi saints of the past did, the idea of becoming one. They all explain it in a similar way if not the same.
This also would explain the quote of Guru Gobind Singh: Those who call me God, will fall into the pit of hell. Regard me as a humble servant of the Lord and have no doubt about it.
To me this is clear cut. The guru went right to telling us to NOT to doubt it. He didn’t even need to say this. But this shows how clear he’s being. So who are we to attribute something he told us not to? And made it clear not to doubt either.
On the flip side if we say they are an avatar of God. The faith is no different to the Hindus who believe in one power…who had avatars who came to earth Krishna being the most famous. Guru Nanak Dev Ji clearly called this out as wrong too. So from beginning to end we are told the same thing in regards to this oneness.
So what would the answer be?

The last time we met I talked about how the following prophecy was fulfilled:
“Therefore Adonai the God of Israel says, ‘I did indeed say that your family and your father’s family would walk in my presence forever.’ But now Adonai says, ‘ Forget it! I respect those who respect me, but those who despise me will meet with contempt. The day is coming when I will break your strength and the strength of your father’s family so that no one in your family will live to old age. At a time when Israel is prospering, you will see a rival in my Dwelling; and never will anyone in your family live to old age. Still, I won’t cut off every one of your men from my altar; because that would make your eyes grow dim, and you would waste away. Nevertheless, all your descendants will die young.” -1 Samuel 2:30-33
God is speaking to Eli and letting him know that not one member of his family will live to see old age.
That prophecy was fulfilled when Saul ordered the slaughter of Achimelech and his entire household of priests.
However, there was another major prophecy fulfilled when this event occurred.
It’s contained in verse 32:
“At a time when Israel is prospering, you will see a rival in my Dwelling; and never will anyone in your family live to old age.”
So we’re told Eli’s family had a rival.
Who was this rival?
It was none other than the family of Zadok.
Eli and his offspring were from the line of Ithamar.
Ithamar was one of Aaron’s sons but it was NOT the legitimate High Priestly line.
It was only the descendants of Eleazar who were supposed to be the High Priests.
So which line did Zadok come from?
He came from the legitimate line of Eleazar…
Which means if God was gonna set things straight…
He’d have to dispose of Eli and his family in due time.
Well, we saw that He did just that when Saul ordered the slaughter of the priesthood.
However, recall one member of Eli’s family named Avyatar escaped.
He became the High Priest despite being from the illegitimate line of Ithamar.
So for a while, there were two rival High Priests in existence as follows:
Avyatar from the illegitimate line of Ithamar and…
Zadok from the legitimate line Eleazar.
David allowed these two competing High Priests to serve at the same time…
But when David’s son Solomon assumed the throne, the situation changed.
When Solomon came to power, he booted out Avyatar.
Once that happened, the way things should have been per the Torah were restored.
Now, I dunno about you but my mind is blown away here.
God allowed a terrible massacre to be carried out by a partnership between an Israelite and a gentile that resulted in the elimination of Israel’s priesthood.
This was a terrible evil that Saul committed using his gentile dog the Edomite Do’eg (pun intended).
But here’s the thing.
It was an illegitimate priesthood because it came from the illegitimate line of Ithamar.
Ya feeling me here homies?
There are a couple of amazing takeaways to be extracted from today’s article.
First, there is such a thing as righteous racism.
Bloodlines freakin’ matter man…
Especially when it comes to the Levites and God’s holy priesthood.
That’s the first takeaway.
The second takeaway…
Well heck, in terms of the second takeaway, I can do no better than to quote the Messiah Himself…
“Don’t think that I have come to abolish the Torah or the Prophets. I have come not to abolish but to complete. Yes indeed! I tell you that until heaven and earth pass away, not so much as a yud or a stroke will pass from the Torah — not until everything that must happen has happened.”
See, here’s the thing…
Just because God allows some religious institutions that claim to be doing His Will to exist does NOT mean they’re legit or will stand forever.
If they’re not in alignment with the Torah, eventually they gotta go.
They could just be a tool in God’s hands to achieve His agenda before He discards it.
I’d say the gentile Christian church fits this description to a tee.
Come to think of it, ain’t that exactly what the Apostle Paul said in Romans Chapter 11?
Didn’t he say he’s using the gentile church to provoke Israel to jealousy?
And then after the full amount of Gentiles has entered in, it’s goodbye to the gentile church, and time for all Israel to be saved.
Honestly, I can’t see how God is going to allow a lawless institution like the gentile church to stand forever.
Think about it.
He allowed the very priesthood of Israel to represent Him for a time but then He eliminated it.
Do you think God is going to allow an institution that has a history of anti-Semitism and preaches that God’s Holy Torah has been done away with to stand forever?
OH HELL NO!
CONNECTING THIS TEACHING TO THE NEW TESTAMENT
“For, brothers, I want you to understand this truth which God formerly concealed but has now revealed, so that you won’t imagine you know more than you actually do. It is that stoniness, to a degree, has come upon Isra’el, until the Gentile world enters in its fullness; and that it is in this way that all Israel will be saved. As the Tanakh says, Out of Tziyon will come the Redeemer; he will turn away ungodliness from Ya‘akov and this will be my covenant with them, . . . when I take away their sins.” -Romans 11:25-27
P.S. If you wanna check out another scorching post on this topic, click HERE to read an article titled “Three Reasons Why The God Of Israel May End Christianity”.

Week 9: Villanelles and Clerihews - Lecture and Discussion
Objective: - Explore the complex structure of villanelles and the humorous nature of clerihews. - Understand the repetition and rhyme scheme in villanelles. - Discuss the poetic possibilities of creating witty biographical verses in clerihews.
Day 1: Introduction to Villanelles - Lecture: - Definition and characteristics of villanelles. - Explanation of the ABA ABA ABA ABA ABA ABAA rhyme scheme and repetition.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. What interests you about the complex structure and repetition in villanelles?
  2. How does the ABA ABA ABA ABA ABA ABAA rhyme scheme contribute to the impact of villanelles?
  3. Can you think of any famous villanelles or poets known for this style?

Day 2: Analyzing Villanelles - Part 1 - Lecture: - In-depth analysis of classic villanelles. - Exploration of the ways repetition enhances the thematic elements.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. How does the repetition contribute to the intricate structure and thematic depth in villanelles?
  2. What emotions or themes are effectively conveyed through this unique form?
  3. Share your thoughts on the importance of repetition in villanelles.

Day 3: Analyzing Villanelles - Part 2 - Lecture: - Discussing modern variations and themes in villanelles. - Exploring the diverse ways poets use repetition for artistic effect.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. How have modern villanelles evolved in terms of themes and structure?
  2. In what ways does the incorporation of repetition broaden the possibilities in written expression?
  3. Share examples of themes or concepts suitable for a villanelle.

Day 4: Crafting Villanelles - Part 1 - Lecture: - Step-by-step guide on crafting the refrains and building the structure of a villanelle. - Emphasis on creating a thematic foundation.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. What challenges do you anticipate in crafting the refrains and building the structure of a villanelle?
  2. How can you establish a strong thematic foundation within the repetition and rhyme scheme?
  3. Share examples of themes or emotions you might explore in a villanelle.

Day 5: Crafting Villanelles - Part 2 - Lecture: - Step-by-step guide on completing the remaining stanzas and refrains of a villanelle. - Emphasis on creating resolution and impact.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. Why are the final stanzas and refrains crucial in providing resolution in a villanelle?
  2. How can a villanelle evoke a sense of completeness within its repeated lines?
  3. Share and discuss individual villanelles, highlighting successful elements.

Homework Assignment: - Craft a villanelle focusing on a theme or emotion that lends itself well to the repetition and structure.
Study Guide Questions: 1. Reflect on the challenges of crafting the refrains and building the structure of your villanelle. How did you establish a strong thematic foundation? 2. How did you approach creating resolution and impact in the final stanzas and refrains of your villanelle? 3. What insights did you gain from the process of crafting a villanelle?
Quiz: Assessment on the understanding of villanelles, their ABA ABA ABA ABA ABA ABAA rhyme scheme, and the impact of repetition.
Day 6: Introduction to Clerihews - Lecture: - Definition and characteristics of clerihews. - Exploration of the humorous and biographical nature of these verses.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. What intrigues you about the humorous and biographical elements in clerihews?
  2. How might the concise structure and witty tone contribute to the charm of clerihews?
  3. Can you think of any famous clerihews or poets known for this style?

Day 7: Analyzing Clerihews - Part 1 - Lecture: - In-depth analysis of classic clerihews. - Exploration of the ways clerihews play with biographical details.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. How does the concise structure and witty tone contribute to the humor in clerihews?
  2. What unique perspectives or insights can arise from the biographical elements in these verses?
  3. Share your thoughts on the importance of brevity in clerihews.

Day 8: Analyzing Clerihews - Part 2 - Lecture: - Discussing modern variations and themes in clerihews. - Exploring the diverse ways poets create witty biographical verses.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. How have modern clerihews evolved in terms of themes and structure?
  2. In what ways does the incorporation of biographical details broaden the possibilities in written expression?
  3. Share examples of themes or concepts suitable for a clerihew.

Day 9: Crafting Clerihews - Part 1 - Lecture: - Step-by-step guide on selecting a subject and establishing the concise structure of a clerihew. - Emphasis on creating humor through wit.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. What challenges do you anticipate in selecting a subject and establishing the concise structure of a clerihew?
  2. How can you ensure that the biographical details contribute to the humor and wit in this form?
  3. Share examples of subjects or individuals you might explore in a clerihew.

Day 10: Crafting Clerihews - Part 2 - Lecture: - Discussing the role of wordplay and creativity in crafting clerihews. - Exploration of different techniques for creating clever and amusing verses.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. How does wordplay contribute to the humor and wit in clerihews?
  2. In what ways can different techniques for creating clever verses impact the overall effect of the clerihew?
  3. Share and discuss individual clerihews, highlighting successful elements.

Homework Assignment: - Craft a clerihew focusing on a subject or individual, infusing humor and wit into the concise structure.
Study Guide Questions: 1. Reflect on the challenges of selecting a subject and establishing the concise structure of your clerihew. How did you create humor through wit? 2. How did wordplay and creativity contribute to the crafting of your clerihew? 3. What insights did you gain from the

Week 7: Limericks and Acrostic Poetry - Lecture and Discussion
Objective: - Explore the whimsical nature of limericks and the creative use of acrostic poetry. - Understand the structure and humor in limericks. - Discuss the artistic possibilities of using acrostic forms.
Day 1: Introduction to Limericks - Lecture: - Definition and characteristics of limericks. - Explanation of the AABBA rhyme scheme and humorous themes.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. What appeals to you about the whimsical nature of limericks?
  2. How does the AABBA rhyme scheme contribute to the humor in limericks?
  3. Can you think of any famous limericks or poets known for this style?

Day 2: Analyzing Limericks - Part 1 - Lecture: - In-depth analysis of classic limericks. - Exploration of the distinctive rhythm and structure.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. How does the AABBA rhyme scheme and rhythm contribute to the comedic timing in limericks?
  2. What humorous themes or scenarios are commonly found in limericks?
  3. Share your thoughts on the importance of concise storytelling in limericks.

Day 3: Analyzing Limericks - Part 2 - Lecture: - Discussing modern variations and themes in limericks. - Exploring the versatility of the form.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. How have modern limericks evolved in terms of themes and structure?
  2. In what ways does the whimsical nature of limericks allow for creative expression?
  3. Share examples of humorous scenarios that might work well in a limerick.

Day 4: Crafting Limericks - Part 1 - Lecture: - Step-by-step guide on crafting the first three lines of a limerick. - Emphasis on establishing humor and rhythm.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. What challenges do you anticipate in crafting the first three lines of a limerick?
  2. How can you establish humor and rhythm within the concise structure?
  3. Share examples of humorous scenarios you might explore in a limerick.

Day 5: Crafting Limericks - Part 2 - Lecture: - Step-by-step guide on crafting the final two lines of a limerick. - Emphasis on creating resolution and punchline.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. Why are the final two lines crucial in providing resolution and a punchline in a limerick?
  2. How can a limerick deliver a humorous twist or surprise within its structure?
  3. Share and discuss individual limericks, highlighting successful elements.

Homework Assignment: - Craft a limerick focusing on a humorous scenario or theme.
Study Guide Questions: 1. Reflect on the challenges of crafting the first three lines of your limerick. How did you establish humor and rhythm? 2. How did you approach creating resolution and a punchline in the final two lines of your limerick? 3. What insights did you gain from the process of crafting a limerick?
Quiz: Assessment on the understanding of limericks, their AABBA rhyme scheme, and the use of humor within the concise form.
Day 6: Introduction to Acrostic Poetry - Lecture: - Definition and characteristics of acrostic poetry. - Exploration of arranging words vertically to create hidden messages.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. What interests you about the creative use of acrostic forms?
  2. How might the arrangement of words vertically enhance the poetic experience in acrostic poetry?
  3. Can you think of any famous acrostic poems or poets known for this style?

Day 7: Analyzing Acrostic Poetry - Part 1 - Lecture: - In-depth analysis of classic acrostic poems. - Exploration of the different approaches to selecting and arranging words.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. How does the vertical arrangement of words contribute to the overall impact of acrostic poetry?
  2. What unique perspectives or insights can arise from using acrostic forms in poetry?
  3. Share your thoughts on the relationship between the hidden message and the overall theme in acrostic poems.

Day 8: Analyzing Acrostic Poetry - Part 2 - Lecture: - Discussing modern variations and themes in acrostic poetry. - Exploring the diverse ways poets engage with vertical arrangements.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. How have modern poets expanded the themes and approaches in acrostic poetry?
  2. In what ways does the incorporation of vertical arrangements broaden the possibilities in written expression?
  3. Share examples of themes or concepts suitable for acrostic poetry.

Week 4: Sestinas and Concrete Poetry - Lecture and Discussion
Objective: - Explore the intricate structure of sestinas and the visual creativity of concrete poetry. - Understand the fixed pattern of word repetition in sestinas. - Discuss the artistic possibilities of arranging words visually in concrete poetry.
Day 1: Introduction to Sestinas - Lecture: - Definition and characteristics of sestinas. - Explanation of the intricate word repetition pattern.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. What intrigues you about the intricate structure of sestinas?
  2. How does the repetition pattern contribute to the unique rhythm of sestinas?
  3. Can you think of any famous sestinas or poets known for this style?

Day 2: Analyzing Sestinas - Part 1 - Lecture: - In-depth analysis of classic sestinas. - Exploration of the challenge and beauty of word repetition.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. How does the repetition pattern influence the overall rhythm and impact of sestinas?
  2. What themes or emotions are effectively conveyed through this structured form?
  3. Share your thoughts on the significance of word repetition in sestinas.

Day 3: Analyzing Sestinas - Part 2 - Lecture: - Discussing modern variations and themes in sestinas. - Exploring the flexibility of the form.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. How have modern sestinas evolved in terms of themes and structure?
  2. In what ways does the fixed pattern of word repetition challenge or enhance creativity?
  3. Share examples of themes or emotions suitable for a sestina.

Day 4: Crafting Sestinas - Part 1 - Lecture: - Step-by-step guide on crafting the first three stanzas of a sestina. - Emphasis on establishing thematic threads through word repetition.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. What challenges do you anticipate in crafting the first three stanzas of a sestina?
  2. How can you establish thematic threads through word repetition in this section?
  3. Share examples of themes or emotions you might explore in a sestina.

Day 5: Crafting Sestinas - Part 2 - Lecture: - Step-by-step guide on completing the final three stanzas and envoi of a sestina. - Emphasis on creating resolution and impact.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. Why is the envoi and final three stanzas crucial in providing resolution in a sestina?
  2. How can a sestina evoke a sense of completeness within the repeated words?
  3. Share and discuss individual sestinas, highlighting successful elements.

Homework Assignment: - Craft a sestina focusing on a theme or emotion that lends itself well to word repetition.
Study Guide Questions: 1. Reflect on the challenges of crafting the first three stanzas of your sestina. How did you establish thematic threads through word repetition? 2. How did you approach creating resolution and impact in the final three stanzas and envoi of your sestina? 3. What insights did you gain from the process of crafting a sestina?
Quiz: Assessment on the understanding of sestinas, the word repetition pattern, and the emotional impact of this intricate form.
Day 6: Introduction to Concrete Poetry - Lecture: - Definition and characteristics of concrete poetry. - Exploration of arranging words visually to create a visual impact.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. What interests you about the visual creativity of concrete poetry?
  2. How might the arrangement of words visually enhance the poetic experience?
  3. Can you think of any famous concrete poems or poets known for this style?

Day 7: Analyzing Concrete Poetry - Part 1 - Lecture: - In-depth analysis of classic concrete poems. - Exploration of the ways visual arrangement enhances meaning.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. How does the visual arrangement of words contribute to the overall impact of concrete poetry?
  2. What unique perspectives or insights can arise from the visual creativity in these poems?
  3. Share your thoughts on the relationship between form and content in concrete poetry.

Day 8: Analyzing Concrete Poetry - Part 2 - Lecture: - Discussing modern variations and themes in concrete poetry. - Exploring the diverse ways poets engage with visual arrangements.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. How have modern poets expanded the themes and approaches in concrete poetry?
  2. In what ways does the incorporation of visual arrangements broaden the possibilities in written expression?
  3. Share examples of visual arrangements that you believe would inspire compelling concrete poems.

Day 9: Crafting Concrete Poetry - Part 1 - Lecture: - Step-by-step guide on selecting a theme and arranging words visually. - Emphasis on creating meaning through form.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. What challenges do you anticipate in selecting a theme and arranging words visually for concrete poetry?
  2. How can you ensure that the visual arrangement enhances the meaning of your poem?
  3. Share examples of themes or concepts suitable for a concrete poem.

Day 10: Crafting Concrete Poetry - Part 2 - Lecture: - Discussing the role of experimentation and creativity in concrete poetry.

The article is intended primarily for Game Masters who play games in systems inspired by Lovecraft’s works, such as Call of Cthulhu or Delta Green. However, I hope that other fans of cosmic horror will also find something for themselves here. The interesting facts presented here may also be interesting for people who do not know the work of The Loner of Providence, but some of the references may be unclear to them. The article contains several anecdotes – either from real history or from beliefs that exist in the real world, and suggestions on how they can be related to the Cthulhu mythology. So read about:

• Sea Peoples, bane of ancient civilizations,
• a forgotten Eldritch abomination from Greek mythology,
• Jan Twardowski, the first man on the Moon,
• mathematicians and physicists who wanted to know the structure of reality and lost their minds,
• one of the most mysterious characters from the Bible and a dark, occult ritual that underlies monotheism.

Invasion of the Sea Peoples
Ancient, super-advanced, fallen civilizations are one of the favorite motifs of fantasy. And truth be told, something similar happened in real history. Of course, in reality, the fallen civilizations did not have sci-fi supertechnology at their disposal, but their collapse still led to great destabilization. We are talking about the invasion of the so-called Sea Peoples, which took place at the turn of the 13th and 12th centuries BC. The Sea Peoples are mobile and warlike groups of people of unknown origin. They caused the collapse of several advanced cultures, including: Mycenaean and Hittite. Only the Egyptians managed to defeat them in a great battle. Well, the material for Lovecraftian inspiration is obvious. A mysterious army, coming out of nowhere, called the „Sea Peoples”, leading to the fall of the most powerful human civilizations at that time? Let us add that, according to some historians, the descendants of the Sea Peoples destroyed by the Egyptians were the Philistines. Yes, the same Philistines, one of whose main deities was the well-known Dagon to Lovecraftomaniacs… Deep Ones say hello. Let us also add that, according to Egyptian records, the tribes of the Sea Peoples had names such as Ekvesh, Teresh, Lucki, Sherden, Shekelesh, Tekel and Peleset. Sounds suitably dark, blasphemous and filthy? If we want to dig deeper, one of the pharaohs who ruled Egypt was Akhenaten – yes, that heretic who tried to replace the worship of traditional Egyptian gods with the religion of the Aten and who is very much liked by conspiracy theorists. Let’s add to the mix that Middle Eastern cultures had quite a negative attitude towards the sea as such. Babylonian Marduk had to defeat the giant monsters of Chaos – Apsu and Tiamat, personifications of fresh and salt waters, respectively. The Bible also contains traces of the myth about the fight between Yahweh and Leviathan, and the Book of Revelation, describing the new, ideal world, emphasizes that „I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more.” Let’s assume that the players are researchers of an antiquity – historians, archaeologists, etc. They conduct research on the Sea Peoples. Of course, as common sense dictates, they assume that these were human warriors. However, as time goes on, more and more evidence appears that they were not completely human again, and the evidence of their monstrosity becomes increasingly difficult to put down to the demonization that Egyptian chroniclers used against their enemies… It becomes clear that an onslaught of inhuman and semi-human monsters came from the sea. , trying to conquer the world of that time. Moreover, after their defeat at the hands of the Egyptians, this species did not become extinct, but instead of open conquest it switched to cautious infiltration. Perhaps the Deep Ones have spies in academia who are tasked with eliminating historians who find the trail of truth…
Oh, one more interesting fact connecting the history of the Sea Peoples with Lovecraft. Well, as we know, HPL liked to use the term „Cyclopean” for huge, monumental buildings. At least he didn’t come up with it himself. Well, when the later (and at first more primitive) inhabitants, the Dorians, saw the ruins of destroyed castles left by the Mycenaean culture, they came to the conclusion that such huge buildings could not have been built by human hands, so they were probably the work of mythical giants – cyclopes.
Typhon – a classic but forgotten abomination
Modern works drawing on Greek mythology usually make Hades (completely senseless) or Kronos (a little more) the Big Bad, but they forget about Zeus’s greatest enemy – Typhon. After defeating the titans and then the gigants, the Olympian gods had to face the main boss on the way to dominating the world – Typhon. Here is an example of its description: It was larger than the largest mountains, its head touched the stars. When he stretched out his hands, one reached the eastern ends of the world and the other reached the western ends. Instead of fingers, he had a hundred dragon heads. From the waist down he had a tangle of vipers (yay, tentacles!) and wings at his shoulders. His eyes were shooting out flames. In other versions of the myth, Typhon was a flying, hundred-headed dragon. In any case – appearance and stature worthy of the Great Old One. Typhon attacked Olympus, and all the gods except Zeus fled in panic. The supreme god took up the fight… and lost it. Only in the second duel did he manage to defeat Typhon, but not kill him – he only imprisoned him, hitting him with Etna. In the sense of a mountain. A volcano – and volcanic activity is the result of Typhon’s anger, trying to break free. Typhon equaled the lord of heaven not only in strength, but in fertility. His wife was Echidna, about whom Hesiod wrote: „She also gave birth to another creature, invincible, huge, unlike neither men nor immortal gods, in a hollow cave – the divine violent Echidna, half a sharp-eyed young girl, with beautiful cheeks, half a huge snake, a great and powerful, spotted, cruel – in the depths of the holy land. This pair spawned many, if not most, of the monsters found in Greek mythology. Their offspring were very diverse and strange, as befits the spawn of enemies of the divine order, including: – Ladon, the hundred-headed dragon who never slept and guarded the apples that gave immortality, – Cerberus – we all know the dog guarding the gates of hell… but not all of us know that, according to some accounts, it had not three heads, but as many as 50, it was also covered with scales, and it had a snake by its tail… so what does this have to do with a dog? – Scylla – this lady inherited the most from the human, beautiful part of Echidna… at least initially, but eventually, as a result of various perturbations, she turned from a beautiful nymph to her siblings, becoming a six-headed sea beast, so hideous, according to Homer, that even the gods could not stand sight of her – she dwelt in a cave, from where she opened her mouth to devour the crews of ships, – Gorgons – I mean, those ladies with snake hair, not monstrous bulls. Medusa was one of them – the story that Athena turned her priestess into a monster as punishment for being raped by Poseidon is an invention of later poets, – Lernaean Hydra – a multi-headed monster with many reptilian or human heads. In place of each severed head, two others grew, and in addition, the main head was completely immortal – therefore, after chopping off the mortal heads, Heracles had to burn the stumps and bury the immortal, still hissing head underground. Hydra’s breath was poisonous. – various other creatures, such as the Sphinx, the dog Ortus, the Nemean Lion or the Chimera. Each of these descendants has the potential to be portrayed as an Eldritch abomination in its own right. To be precise – according to some accounts, the father of these creatures (and Echidna herself) was Typhon, but a monstrous, ancient (older than Poseidon) sea god, Phorcys. How to use Typhon? Well, Typhon clearly has the potential to be a Great Old One, imprisoned by… Nodens? Some other Elder God? Weak gods of humanity? Maybe his cult is trying to free him from Etna? What if he succeeds? What might distinguish Typhon from many other Great Old Ones? I would recommend focusing on his monster progenitor aspect – if he manages to reunite with Echidna, they will immediately start spawning various blasphemous beasts in series.
Jan Twardowski – the first man on the Moon
Jan (John) Twardowski, the hero of the legend, a Polish nobleman who allegedly sold his soul to the devil and became a sorcerer. Probably a historical figure, according to legend he lived in the 16th century and became famous for summoning the spirit of the deceased queen for King Sigismund Augustus. The ghost allegedly appeared in the mirror. This mirror is still kept in the church in Węgrów. According to legend, when the terms of the pact were fulfilled, devils came to kidnap Twardowski to hell. Interestingly, instead of taking the sorcerer’s soul after death, the most material demons appeared and grabbed Twardowski in order to kidnap him bodily, alive… and instead of heading towards the underground, which in legends is considered the traditional place of residence of demons and damned souls, they began to carry away up with him. At some point, Twardowski started singing religious songs, which caused the demons to escape, leaving him on the Moon, where he is said to have stayed ever since. Could the “demons” actually be extraterrestrials? Maybe mi-go? Maybe Twardowski was their agent and obtained secret knowledge and technology from them that gave him the fame of a sorcerer? As part of his studies, did he acquire knowledge of a system of sounds („religious songs”) that was able to drive away his masters when they decided that his usefulness on Earth had ended and it was time to transport him to a space base where he would be transformed into a brain in jar? Or was transportation to the Moon part of the deal from the beginning? Oh, one more interesting fact – according to legends, Twardowski used to use a rooster as a horse, which he enlarged with his magic. It’s easy to imagine an abomination that, in the eyes of laymen, might have resembled a large rooster… Examples of scenario hooks: – Twardowski’s secret mirror is still in the church in Węgrów. The local priest thinks it is just other „pagan” superstitions, but in fact it is a tool enabling contact with cosmic beings and higher realities. It may prove useful to players if they convince the priest to give it back or simply steal it. – Players are looking for Twardowski’s notes to gain knowledge about the „song” thanks to which he drove away mi-go (or other creatures that became the prototype of the „devils” from the legend). The so-called Twardowski’s „School” or „Cathedral” was located in a quarry near Kraków. In fact, at the end of the 19th century, during the construction of the church of St. Józefa, a cave showing traces of alchemical experiments was discovered… And it was destroyed. But perhaps there is a second, secret laboratory under the cave that escaped destruction? And there lie Twardowski’s secrets… And again, potential obstacles may be placed by the local parish priest. But not only him. Maybe Twardowski’s legendary „rooster” lies dormant in the laboratory and was left by the sorcerer as a guard? – players are astronauts on the Moon. However, it turns out that someone lives here, someone who was not detected by previous expeditions and probes. Will Twardowski prove to be an ally in the fight against cosmic horrors? Or maybe their agent, or an independent villain? If he survived this long on the Moon thanks to blasphemous secrets, it’s possible that he had little humanity left…
The rest of the text is avalaible (of course, for free) here: https://adeptusrpg.wordpress.com/2024/05/13/some-lovecraftian-inspiration-form-real-life-and-beliefs/

I know this has been restated a million times here, but I will be discussing slavery and how one cannot look at the Bible and say that it is a perfect judge for morality.
Roman slaves were chattel slaves
I've seen a common defense from apologists being something along the lines of, "But the slaves in the Bible were all indentured..."
This is a flat out lie.
In Paul's letters to Ephesians, he states, in Ephesians 6:5-9: ^{5 "}Slaves, obey your earthly masters with respect and fear, and with sincerity of heart, just as you would obey Christ. ⁶ Obey them not only to win their favor when their eye is on you, but as slaves of Christ, doing the will of God from your heart. ⁷ Serve wholeheartedly, as if you were serving the Lord, not people, ⁸ because you know that the Lord will reward each one for whatever good they do, whether they are slave or free.
⁹ And masters, treat your slaves in the same way. Do not threaten them, since you know that he who is both their Master and yours is in heaven, and there is no favoritism with him."
This is in reference to Roman slaves, which were chattel slaves.
The causes of slavery consisted of taking prisoners of war, birth into slavery (two biggest causes), debt (for non-citizens), punishment for crime, enslavers finding children abandoned by their parent, etc.
Below, you will see how Roman slaves were treated.
'Above all, however, slave bodies were tortured and physically abused, even unto death, with no consequences for masters. Plautus’ second century BCE plays regularly feature slaves terrified over an impending whipping, a trope that was meant to elicit laughs from the audience. Similarly disturbing insouciance about physical abuse is found in the epigrams of the first century CE poet Martial: “You think me cruel and too fond of my stomach, Rusticus, because I beat my [enslaved] cook on account of a dinner. If that seems to you a trivial reason for lashes, for what reason then do you want a cook to be flogged?”³⁸ And assaults were often much worse than a beating. The physician Galen speaks of his experience of masters, including his own mother, biting their slaves or gouging out their eye with a writing stylus.³⁹ Ultimately, the master could even kill his slaves with impunity. This he sometimes did by contract, especially through the brutal punishment of crucifixion. An inscription of Puteoli (modern Pozzuoli) lays out prices set by a company that specialized in torturing and crucifying slaves on contract, allowing the master to hire out this messy and physically demanding affair to specialized professionals.⁴⁰ Here again Constantine became uneasy with this level of violence and issued a law forbidding the deliberate killing of slaves in 319 CE, but in a subsequent law he granted tremendous leeway for masters who happened to kill a slave in the course of “corrective punishment.”'
'Even when slaves were not openly abused, they lived in constant fear of violence. They also lived in a world of “natal alienation,” which meant that they were permanent outsiders, excluded from civic or political rights and privileges, excluded from control over their own birth families and offspring, and excluded from final control over their very bodies and personhood. Their names could be assigned to them by a master and could be changed at any time, particularly when they were sold to a new master. Their children could be exposed or sold by their master at will. And they themselves could be liquidated for their cash value at any moment. We have evidence of this process from multiple sources which reveal enslaved persons intended for sale were usually stripped down to a loincloth, displayed on a raised platform (catasta), made to wear a garland if they were war captives and/or marked with chalk on their feet if they were imported from overseas, their “defects” (disabilities, diseases, habits) were publicly proclaimed on placards hung round their necks, and they were subject to humiliating physical inspections by potential buyers (Fig. 5.3).⁴² They were, in other words, treated in the manner of livestock at market, with all of the attendant dehumanization and degradation.'
https://link.springer.com/chapte10.1007/978-3-031-13260-5_5
In Exodus, it gives rules for what you can and cannot do with your slaves.
Exodus 21:20-21: ²⁰ “Anyone who beats their male or female slave with a rod must be punished if the slave dies as a direct result, ²¹ but they are not to be punished if the slave recovers after a day or two, since the slave is their property."
This could be applied to the Gentile chattel slaves in Leviticus 25:44-46: ⁴⁴ “‘Your male and female slaves are to come from the nations around you; from them you may buy slaves. ⁴⁵ You may also buy some of the temporary residents living among you and members of their clans born in your country, and they will become your property. ⁴⁶ You can bequeath them to your children as inherited property and can make them slaves for life, but you must not rule over your fellow Israelites ruthlessly."
However, this essentially means that the only rule for the owning of slaves would be that you may not kill them (at least in Exodus -- other rules for slave owners are communicated later in the Bible).
The Bible condoning slavery
The Bible mentioning slavery without condemnation (when the culture widely accepts it) is absolutely evidence that it supports it. Especially given the Bible's own ethical stance about not rebuking your neighbor for their sins being hating them in your heart (Leviticus 19:17).
Further, the New Testament welcomed slaveholders into the church and told them how to carry out their acts of enslavement in a Christlike manner: Ephesians 6:5-9. Paul was extremely clear about allowing people who habitually sinned into the church-fornicators, drunkards, covetous people, etc. Christians weren't even supposed to eat with those people: 1 Corinthians 5:9-12. Imagine if Paul welcomed adulterers into the church, didn't condemn their behavior and told them how to carry out their acts of adultery in a Godly manner? Or if he told Mafia style extortionists how to carry out their acts of extortion in a kind and Christlike manner? No, Paul and the Bible in general do not see owning chattel slaves (which is what Roman slaves were) as wrong. They see treating them badly as wrong, but they do not see owning them as sinful.
Regarding comparisons to slavery in the south, the Bible does not teach equality of social status and OT slavery was somewhat of an improvement over ANE slavery, but that doesn't prove God opposes slavery. The south improved their regulations on mistreating slaves over time, and some states had "better" laws than others. That does not mean those legislatures were composed of abolitionists. It just means they thought there should be some regulations on how brutally you can punish the most defenseless members of society -- just like in Exodus 21:20-21 and Exodus 21:26-27.
However, some will argue on the basis of the Torah. Mosaic law is considered a reliable guide to righteous conduct (Psalm 19:7-11, 2 Timothy 3:16). You can think that this is righteous conduct for the time -- but if chattel slavery was righteous conduct for the time, it cannot be inherently wrong. And the burden would be on you to explain to a southerner why whatever rationale you give for why chattel slavery was ok in the OT (and not to mention Roman chattel slavery in the NT) would not apply to southern slavery.
Also, again, the Bible goes out of its way to encourage masters to physically discipline their slaves in Proverbs 29:19. We know this is encouraging beating, because it denies that slaves can be disciplined by words, and we know from Exodus that beating is how slaves were disciplined. We also know that the Bible thinks that slaves tended to be considered to often be fools (Proverbs 11:29) and that beating is recommended as a way of dealing with fools (Proverbs 26:3, Proverbs 10:13, Proverbs 19:29). There is very little doubt that this is what the Bible is encouraging. We can compare this to the Roman Stoic philosopher Seneca who argued that masters should only discipline their slaves by lashing them with the tongue (Moral Letters to Lucilius 47:19). Proverbs 29:19 could have been written as a rebuke of what Seneca said. If God was just accommodating hardened hearts, why would he go out of his way to encourage this, when even a Roman philosopher thought slaves should not be treated the way the Bible advocates?
https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Moral_letters_to_Lucilius/Letter_47
Women being seen as similar to slaves
"Wives and apprentices are slaves; not in theory only, but often in fact."
-George Fitzhugh, Sociology for the South (1854), Pg. 86.
"The husband has a legally recognized property in his wife's service, and may legally control, in some measure, her personal liberty. She is his property and his slave.
The wife also has a legally recognized property in the husband's services. He is her property, but not her slave."
-George Fitzhugh, Cannibals All!: Or Slaves Without Masters (1857), Page 341.
"But other consequences follow from the abolitionist dogmas. 'All involuntary restraint is a sin against natural rights,' therefore laws which give to husbands more power over the persons and property of wives, than to wives over husbands, are iniquitous, and should be abolished. The same decision must be made upon the exclusion of women, whether married or single, from suffrage, office, and the full franchises of men. There must be an end of the wife's obedience to her husband. Is it said that these subordinations are consistent, because women assent to them voluntarily, in consenting to become wives ? This plea is insufficient, because the female sex is impelled to marriage by irresistible laws of their nature and condition."
-Robert Dabney, A Defense of Virginia (1867), Pg. 265.
“The parent has the right to the service of his child; he has a property in the service of that child. A husband has a right of property in the service of his wife; he has the right to the management of his household affairs. The master has a right of property in the service of his apprentice. All these rights rest upon the same basis as a man's right of property in the service of slaves.”
-Rep. Chilton A. White, The Congressional Globe (1865), Part 1, Pg. 215.
https://books.google.com/books?id=Xrs-AAAAYAAJ&printsec=frontcover&source=gbs_ge_summary_r&cad=0#v=onepage&q&f=false
Google Books
The Congressional Globe
Just as slaves were in some respects considered both property and people, the same is true of women -- in both the 1800's and in the Bible. Exodus 20:17 prohibits coveting your neighbors wife, but not your neighbor's husband for a reason. Because on some level, women were seen as property, even if they have some rights and weren't viewed as being in a completely shameful role.
Kidnapping
Kidnapping is going to be a key term. If you consider one nation/tribe going to war with another nation/tribe and taking men, women and children as slaves to be kidnapping, then Roman slavery was heavily based on kidnapping. If you don't, then a lot of the trans Atlantic Slave Trade victims wouldn't be kidnapped either, since that's how many of them were acquired.
"As a concomitant of the rise and fall of various African rulers and ruling parties, their political opponents, people of high social status, and their families were sold to promote internal political stability. Poor people were sold to reconcile debts owed by themselves or their families. Chiefs sold people as punishment for crimes. Gangs of Africans and a few marauding Europeans captured free Africans who were also sold into slavery. Domestic slaves were resold and prisoners of war were sold. However, Boahen, an African scholar, asserts, 'The greatest sources to supply slaves were raids conducted for the sole purpose of catching men for sale and above all, inter-tribal and inter-state wars which produced thousands of war captives, most of whom found their way to the New World (Boahen 1966:110).'" (See the section: "Who was enslaved and Why").
https://www.nps.gov/ethnography/aah/aaheritage/histcontextsc.htm
The article discussed the widespread societal harm to African societies. I do want to make that clear, it did not promote internal stability. I quoted that part solely for the sake of making the point about war. I see this as kidnapping.
Some other things:
Just in case you appeal to 1 Timothy 1:10 as a prohibition of slavery:
https://youtu.be/N7A-VSIt1jg?si=YUYuBEd6buta56Cn
And just in case you want to appeal to Deuteronomy 23:15-16 as a requirement to not return escaped slaves (TLDR: it only applies to foreign owned slaves who escaped to Israel -- according to most Christian commentators):
https://biblehub.com/commentaries/deuteronomy/23-15.htm

Push Ups VS Euphoria
Push Ups was a good song with some memorable lines. But the problem is the fact that the disses were inconsistent asf, especially against Kdot. The most famous line off Push Ups is "Metro, shut your hoe ass up & make some drums.." Kendrick drops Euphoria 3 weeks later, & people are instantly quoting it. Euphoria has better bars & disses towards Drake. Although this was the toughest round yet.
Kendrick 1-0.
Taylor Made VS 6:16 in La
This one is obvious. Taylor Made used AI to try & troll Kdot which didn't work at all. Imo, using AI in any given situation is a bum move. You could argue it was disrespectful towards Tupac, & it nearly got Drake sued. Not to mention, Taylor Made is aging like shit. 6:16 in LA was not only a good song, but a masterpiece of a chess move that went after Drakes insecurity. The whole "OVO is working for me" is the perfect response, & at this point I think it's true. Insanely smart move by Kdot.
Kendrick 2-0.
Family Matters VS Meet The Grahams
I think this was Drakes best installment. From the music video to the disses, nearly everything was good about it. But then Kung Fu Kenny decided to drop the most lethal diss known to man minutes later. Meet The Grahams had people speechless... gasping for air. The lyrics mixed with it's unsettling beat had people terrified. This is easily the best diss so far, & probably won't be beaten.
Kendrick 3-0.
The Heart Part 6 VS Not Like Us
The Heart P6 was very disappointing, & I'm sure almost everyone can agree on that. I already made a rant on it, but the "diss" is pretty much Drake saying "nuh uh, I didn't do that." Also, the diss has tons of flaws that don't make any sense. On the other hand, Not Like Us was an immediate hit. It's breaking nearly every rap song record- there's an entire list on it's accolades. The song went international, you got people dancing & singing to a song that repeatedly calls Drake a pedophile. This point obviously goes to Kdot.
Kendrick 4-0, clean sweep.
Kendrick wanted the publics' opinion to turn on Drake, & point out the distortion of the black culture surrounding Drake, & that's exactly what happend. People will never look at Drake the same, & fans who are still supporting Drake are being called out. Sure, Drake won't totally be canceled, he's too big for that (just like Kanye). But he's damn near close.
None of Drakes notable claims on Kendrick have been proven. The "woman beater" allegation has no evidence behind it. The "Dave Free being the real father" allegation also doesn't have any evidence, & Akademiks said on his stream, "Kendricks' kid isn't Dave Free's, from my understanding, so Drake lied." Take that with a grain of salt, but you get my point. Drake said he tricked Kdot into thinking the stuff on the cover of "Meet The Grahams" was a set up, & fake. Well... that was debunked by EbonyPrince2k24 on X.
Kendrick revealing Drake has a daughter doesn't have any evidence behind it either. But that's the only notable unconfirmed claim on Drake. It was oddly specific, though?
Finally, Drake seems to be backing out of the beef. On The Heart P6, he said, "I don't wanna diss you anymore, you got me second guessing." He also posted on his IG story saying, "Good times, summer vibes up next." Yikes... someone's in shambles.
If you read all this, ily!

Thanks to my friend sashalemon96 for writing a significant amount of this report with me!

SECTION 1: CUT SKETCHES

All quoted dialogue is approximate, I do not have an eidetic memory. Also, I interchangeably use cast and character names because not every character is named, and I try to defer to in-sketch pronouns.
MOM NEWS
INT. A newsroom set. Squirm and Rudolph plays reporters on a local news station called “Mom News,” featuring them and their correspondents. All characters are referred to as “your mom” or “your father” in their introductions and provide very mother-like commentary. News stories include: “Something bad has happened to someone you barely know,” and “your mom accidentally left a reply to a post on Facebook about a funeral with a gif of “Uncle Fester spinning a cane.”
They then turn to the weather report by Fineman, who does a Kristen Wiig voice to say the weather is going to be “gorgeous” and “stunning.” Day, as “your dad,” gives a breaking special report that your “neighbor down the street got one of those Teslas,” then pauses then adds “Yeah, that’s it.” P. Johnson and Troast then report on entertainment news. They show a photo of Zendaya at the Met Gala, and then Troast says that Zendaya is “too skinny” and Johnson says “she needs to eat a cheeseburger.” Squirm then sidebars to Maya to say, “You know Zendaya is dating Tim Holland?” Another story features Kearney warning that if you receive a “spam likely” call, you should make sure to pick it up because there’s probably an issue with your bank and you should buy as many Target gift cards as they ask for. Gardner reports on “something you’ve known about for years,” as she’s recently discovered boba before having issues with her technology and playing the Spanish language soccer channel.
Finally, Nwodim and Thompson play a couple, “your mom and your dad.” In a snappy, well-rehearsed, back-and-forth, Thompson reveals that he had tried to fix the broken water heater and failed, and now Nwodim can hold this over his head forever. Nwodim: “And this means you’ll be wearing what at our next dinner?” Thompson: “That ugly ass shirt.” Nwodim: “Sorry, what was that?” Thompson, cowed: “...The nice shirt you bought me, I mean.” which he initially refers to as an “ugly ass shirt.” The anchors end the segment with the news after the break: “a worrying shift in my political opinions” and an “out-of-pocket comment about your dad’s penis.”
BARRY THE MIDWIFE [recurring]
This is a sequel to the original BARRY THE MIDWIFE sketch from the Quinta Brunson/Jonas Brothers episode in Season 48.
Structured in a series of flash-forwards and flashbacks Barry, the midwife, and a doula played by Rudolph, bickering with each other before reconciling. The doula was either “Carla” or “Carly,” I don’t quite remember.
INT. Birth #1 [present]: Troast is delivering, and Hernandez is the father. JAJ is the doctor, but Rudolph is the doula, and Yang is Barry the Midwife. The doula and midwife speak with the same odd pronunciations of words, like “curious” as “curr-ous” and “Paris” as “per-ous.” They also sport the same awkward bob. They have competing catchphrases; Barry keeps saying “Clear a path. Clear a path.” whereas the doula keeps saying “Make a hole. Make a hole.” The doula says, “It’s nice to meet you,” to Barry, which offends him. “Um, actually, we’ve met. Remember? We met in a hot tub after the season finale of Survivor in 2000 when we were both upset that Richard Hatch won.” The doula: “Oh, I guess I don’t remember that.” Barry: “Well, while you were trying to remember, I was delivering this baby.” He casually holds up a baby doll.
INT. Birth #2 [4 years later]: This time, the expecting parents are P. Johnson and Kearney. The doula enters and says “Nice to see you again,” but Barry pretends not to remember her. The doula: “What? Barry, we first met in a hot tub after the season finale of Survivor in 2000 when we were both upset that Richard Hatch won. And then we met again four years earlier.” Barry says the doula has an “elephant memory” for remembering something from 28 years ago, followed by “Girl! respect yourself.” Barry also gets mad when the doula says he’s clearly been copying her hair (at this point they both have long, flowing, silky black tresses). Barry ends with “While you were busy accusing me, I just delivered these triplets. Lesbos always have extros.” He holds up three baby dolls in one arm.
EXT. Hot tub [24 years ago]: Barry and the doula bond over their dislike of the season finale of Survivor while in the hot tub. Barry also adds “I love your hair. I might copy it one day.” (The doula has the exact same awkward bob as in the first scene.) The two suddenly make a pact to marry each other if they are both still single by the 50th anniversary of that night’s episode of Survivor.
INT. Birth #3 [26 years later]: Since Rudolph and Yang were just submerged in a real hot tub in the other set, they’re asked by the new couple (I don’t remember who these are, maybe Garnder and Day?) why they’re soaking wet. Yang’s excuse: “I just did a water birth. Girl, respect yourself.” The doula’s excuse: “It was raining outside and I fell on my head. Girl, respect yourself.” At this point, their long, flowing tresses are now grey with age. Barry then turns and says to the doula, “It’s nice to meet you,” and she finally confronts him: “Aren’t you tired of being petty?”. Barry gives in and says, “It’s nice to see you,” and reminds her of their 50-year pact which is approaching the next week.
EXT. HOT TUB [26 years and 1 week later] The two marry in the hot tub (in makeshift wedding regalia) and Squirm gets in the hot tub to throw two babies at them.
\** Editorial note from sashalemon96: “I think the reason this one didn’t land as well as the one for Brunson is because (at least during dress) they throw the baby into the fire and it starts smoking screen creating laughter as they run to the other set. They also took a very long time to get back and from the hot tub set to the hospital set.”****
JAMES AUSTIN JOHNSON AS BRIAN COX [update character]
Jost tees this up by explaining that lately, Brian Cox has been in the news for his many controversial opinions, such as “Jeremy Strong being annoying” or “the Bible being the worst book ever written.” Brian Cox is fed up with the Kendrick LamaDrake beef. He refers to them as a pair of “second-rate poets” and acts mock scared that “K. Dot” will throw his Pulitzer at him. Che follows up with “What about Drake?” and Cox replied, “What is Drake going to do? Have his fans throw their fidget spinners at me?” Cox also expresses mock sympathy that they’re hurting each others’ feelings, before suggesting the two men “go to Iraq.” Che warns that Cox shouldn’t be talking shit about the two rappers, but Cox retorts “What are they going to do—blow my top off like the Boeing whistleblowers?” and then mocks Kendrick’s height. At one point Cox ends a sentence with “and that’s on God… who doesn’t exist, by the way.” Cox then throws some shade at Che for his inability to find a wife even though Jost married an Avenger, adding “can you not find a woman who wants your Ant-Man sized penis?”

SECTION 2: ORIGINAL DRESS RUNDOWN

1. COLD OPEN
2. MONOLOGUE
3. HOT ONES [recurring]
4. PDD: EXPLORE PAGE [pretape]
5. MOM NEWS ✂️
6. BARRY THE MIDWIFE [recurring] ✂️
7. CAN YOU PICK ME UP [pretape]
8. T.T. AND MARIO [recurring] ✂️
9. WEEKEND UPDATE: SQUIRM , GARDNER , JAJ ✂️
10. TIP TOP COFFEE
11. MOM JEANS [archival] [pretape]
12. TEACHER PSA
13. BRITISH CAVEMEN
14. NURSE APPRECIATION
15. LANDSCAPERS

SECTION 3: CHANGES FROM DRESS TO AIR

I’m gonna be so real with you guys, these days I’m so tired I just go home after dress rehearsal and sleep through the live show, so these changes are submitted by another friend.

1. In dress, Colin was specified to be wearing a “Stormy Daniels wig” during the monologue, in hopes that he could be in the political sketch about the Trump trials.
2. The original first excuse Rudolph comes up with in CAN YOU PICK ME UP was that the dead grandma didn’t want her funeral to interfere with work.
3. The joke about “Republicans in bed with Trump” was added afte dress.
4. TEACHER PSA didn’t originally end with Nwodim telling the girl to sit down. I don’t remember the original ending, but I remember it was kind of weak.

SECTION 4: SUNDRY NOTES

1. Ezra Koenig said “Hi, Maya!” right before they started performing.
2. There were a bunch of off-screen mistakes during the dress version of NURSE AD. Poor Fineman had the wrong cue cards when it came to one of her lines, and she looked genuinely terrified when trying to figure out what she was supposed to say. Then the camera cut to her when it was supposed to be on Rudolph and P. Johnson. Finally, she randomly had a sneeze attack during JAJ’s lines. I’ve never thought about what happens when you sneeze on SNL before, lol.
3. Interestingly enough, there were two cameras for LANDSCAPERS but only one set of cue cards, so Wally had to dash back and forth with the same set of cue cards every time we changed scenes. I’ve also never seen that happen before. Poor Wally!

I've always been bound to death.
On my eighth birthday, a shadow strode into my house and shot me and my family dead. I remember it vividly, every detail, every angle, etched and stained and carved into my memory.
I sat very still with my knees to my chest, my gaze glued to my siblings.
Lily and PJ looked like they were sleeping, and I could almost believe it.
I didn't look at the shadow.
From the comfort of my knees, I waited for my brother to lift his head.
But his body was so limp, so still, every part of him faltering. My sister’s head was nestled in his shoulder, thick beads of red running down her face.
They're just sleeping.
I could tell myself they were— as long as I didn't look at the splatter of scarlet staining the back of the couch and pooling at their feet.
BANG.
Mom’s body dropped onto the ground.
I lunged forwards, slamming my hands over my ears.
BANG.
PJ’s head slumped forwards, a teasing smile still frozen on his lips.
BANG.
Lily gently tipped into PJ, like she was going to sleep.
Before she closed her eyes, Mom told me to run.
I can't remember how long I stayed under the shattered remnants of Mom’s favorite table. The shadow was waiting for me to move, to make a noise.
I watched booted feet crunch through glass, getting closer and closer, and slowly, fight or flight began to take over.
Making it halfway across the living room, my palms slick with my mother’s blood, I thought I was going to live.
Cruel fingers wound their way through my hair and shoved me to my knees. I remember the phantom legs of a spider creeping down the back of my neck when the shadow with no face dragged the barrel of his gun down my spine.
“Turn around.”
The shadow had a voice.
When I didn't move, the protruding metal stabbed into my neck.
“Turn around, kid!”
I did, very slowly.
Behind him, my siblings still weren't moving.
They were asleep.
Lily was still smiling, strawberry blonde ringlets stained red.
I couldn't see PJ’S face anymore.
BANG.
I didn't feel the gunshot.
I didn't feel anything.
Looking down, I glimpsed slowly spreading red blossoming like a flower.
It felt like being cut from strings.
I hit the ground, just like my mother, my body felt heavy and wrong.
Paralysed.
I remember being unable to scream, unable to cry, the salty taste of metal filling my mouth. It was like being winded. Rolling onto my side, all I could see was flickering candlelight.
The air was thick, so hard to breathe.
I rolled onto my back trying to suck in air.
The shadow took a step back, opened the front door, and bled into the night.
I don't remember the pain, and I don't remember dying. I couldn't breathe, couldn't conjure words in my mouth.
I felt warm and sticky, lying in my own blood.
I think I tried to move.
But I was so tired.
I’m not sure what death feels like, because it's like going to sleep.
I remember my last shuddering breaths, a lulling darkness beginning to swallow me up. I don't know why I wasn't afraid.
Oblivion almost felt like I was sinking into lukewarm depths on a Summer’s day.
Oblivion wasn't pain, and there was a peaceful inevitability to it.
It was endless nothing, a nothing I found myself gravitating towards. But before I could envelope myself in that darkness, it was spitting me back out.
The next thing I knew, I was in a white room, a slow beeping sound tearing me from slumber. I had a vague memory of slow spreading roses blossoming across my shirt, like summer flowers blooming.
Everything was white.
The walls, the ceiling, and my clothes.
Sensation hit me in slow waves.
Exhaustion.
I felt it tightening its grip around my brain, dragging me back onto a mountain of pillows when I tried to jump up. My Aunt May was sitting next to me on a plastic chair, her warm fingers entangled in mine. Aunt May and Mom were practically twins, with the same thick red hair and pale skin.
Mom wore her hair in a casual ponytail, while May preferred a strict bun.
I had to bite back the urge to yank my hand away.
Aunt May was asleep, used tissues filling her lap.
There was a nurse pottering around, checking my vitals and prodding my arms. My eyes felt heavy. I had to blink several times to keep myself awake.
“Charlie?”
The nurse’s voice was like wind-chimes.
I pretended not to notice her forced lipstick smile, the way she stood with her arms folded, staring at me like I was one of my cousin’s experiments. “You were in an accident, sweetie,” the nurse spoke up. I could see her trembling hands. “Just, um, try and rest, okay?”
I wanted to ask where my family was, but I already knew the answer.
I think she knew that too.
“You died, Charlie.” The nurse’s voice was eerily cold. “You were dead for thirteen minutes.”
She took slow steps towards me, her eyes growing frenzied, like she couldn't understand me, like I was a puzzle she could not solve– and it was driving her crazy. I could see it in her twitching hands, her wobbling lips that were trying and failing to appear stoic.
“In fact, I just pulled you out of the morgue, honey. I opened up your body bag that I had just zipped up, and told your aunt that you were a miracle I just… can’t understand.” The nurse sounded like she was trying to choke down a laugh, or maybe a sob.
“Charlotte, you were pronounced dead at 3:02am from a gunshot wound to the chest.” Taking a slow, sobering breath, the nurse tried to smile. “The bullet went through the right ventricle of your heart and severely damaged your left lung, rendering you unable to breathe. Your heart stopped, and after four attempts to resuscitate, we called it.”
Something slimy wound its way up my throat when she began to pace the room. “I… did all the paperwork. It took me two minutes. Your death certificate was signed, and your body was taken to the morgue to be prepped for transportation. Then I had my lunch. Tuna salad with a protein milkshake. I’m not a fan of the chocolate flavor.”
She shook her head. “Anyway, when I came back to you, you were awake inside your body bag.” Her voice was starting to break. “You were…um, alive, and asked me for apple soda.”
The nurse moved closer, and yet kept her distance.
I could feel myself moving back, panic writhing through me.
“So.” The nurse spoke calmly. “How the fuck are you still alive, Charlie?”
I think I passed out after that.
When I woke up again, my head a lot less heavier, the nurse was gone.
Slowly, my foggy brain began to find itself and connect dots.
My mouth was dry, full of cotton.
There was a sudden tightness, a sharp and cruel sting in my wrists.
Something sharp was protruding into my flesh, and no matter how many times I violently wrenched my arm, it was stuck. It didn't feel right to be able to breathe so easily.
I knew the second I woke that my Mom was dead.
Lily and PJ were dead, and it was like losing them all over again.
As clarity came over me, I found my voice, a strangled cry escaping my lips.
“Get it out.” I whispered in a shrill cry.
Tugging at the IV in my wrist, I tried to yank the needle from my skin.
“Get it out!” I shrieked, my gaze glued to the tiny spots of blood staining the insertion point.
I could see it again.
So much blood.
Mom was curled up on the floor, lying in slow spreading red that wouldn't stop, seeping across her beaded rug.
She was all over me, slick on my skin and caked in my fingernails.
I couldn't wash her off of me.
“You're okay, Charlotte.”
Aunt May’s voice came from my right, stabling me to reality.
The world started to move again, started to make sense again, when she cupped my cheeks and told me to breathe. When I opened my mouth to ask where my family were, she lightly shook her head and I swallowed my words. Aunt May handed me a glass of water, and I drained it in one gulp.
She told me I was a miracle.
Aunt May didn't say much, and when she did, she broke into sobs.
Her eyes were raw from crying, clinging onto me, her shuddery voice reassuring me that I was going to be okay.
She told me I would be living with her from now on, before wrapping me into a hug and leaving to get coffee.
Once my aunt was gone, another nurse came to prod my IV.
I tried to sleep, but the uncomfortable tightness of the needle sticking into my skin and the sterile white lights in my eyes made it impossible. I waited for grief to catch up with me, drowning me in a hollow oblivion I wouldn't be able to claw myself out of. But I didn't feel sad. I didn't feel angry.
I wanted to know why my family were dead.
I wanted to know why I was breathing, and their skin was ice cold.
Rotting.
The sudden image of maggots crawling up my brother’s nose sent me lurching into a sitting position, my stomach heaving. Reaching for my glass of water, it was empty. The sensation of throwing up felt familiar, almost comforting.
Mom was always with me when I was sick, holding my hair back and lulling my hysteria with reassuring murmurs.
I was frowning at the trash can by the door, my cotton candy brain trying to figure out if I would be able to make it in time, when a small voice drifted from the doorway, startling me.
“I don't want you to come live with us.”
My cousin was peeking through the door, hiding behind a shock of dark brown curls. Jude was the only brunette in our family. The rest of us were redheads.
I wasn't sure why he was dressed up like a ghost, draped in a white cloak that was way too big for him. Jude was a weird kid. His mother, and my auntie, had inherited the family house, so in his mind, that made him superior.
Jude made it clear he didn't like his cousins, refusing to let us play with him and banning us from family gatherings.
When the adults were drinking cocktails and losing their awareness, Jude ordered us around. The times we did play with him, our cousin showed us his spider collection, or the raccoon brain he kept in a jar. PJ was convinced our younger cousin was a serial killer. Several months earlier, he'd happily showed us the roadkill he'd been growing bacteria on under his bed.
Jude’s ‘experiments’ were worrying.
He stuffed mushrooms down my brother’s ears while he was sleeping, to, and I quote, “Recreate The Last Of Us.”
When Lily had a nosebleed during Thanksgiving dinner, Jude collected all her bloody tissues and refused to tell us where he'd put them, and what he had done with them. Fast-forward two months, and I found them under a nest of spiders. Jude was trying to adapt the spiders to be able to feed on human blood. I was surprised my cousin hadn't immediately demanded to see my siblings’ dead bodies for autopsy.
Jude stepped into the room, shuffling his feet.
“I'm sorry about Lily, PJ, and Aunt Ivy.” He mumbled, glaring at the floor tiles.
My cousin made no move to offer real sympathy, instead speaking to the floor.
“But I don't want you to come live with us.” Jude lifted his head, looking me dead in the eye. “I don't like you, Charlie. I want you to stay away.”
Before I could reply, he stepped back like I was diseased.
“You should be dead.” Jude grumbled.
He scowled at me, getting my age purposely wrong as usual before running off.
“Happy 68th birthday.”
I was six months older than him.
In Jude’s eyes, I was ready for retirement.
Still, though, my cousin was right.
I was stone cold dead, and then I was somehow alive.
Which was wrong.
Growing up, I realized Death was not so subtly attempting to fix his mistake.
It started small. I'd choke on things I wasn't supposed to choke on.
Chips.
Candy.
Ice cream.
Aunt May had to perform the heimlich manoeuvre when I choked on a piece of chicken. I thought I was just really unlucky, but then I locked myself in a freezer that didn't have a lock, and almost drowned in the local swimming pool, catching my foot in stray netting.
At the summer fair, Jude convinced me to try apple bobbing, only for my head to conveniently get stuck underwater.
It started to make sense.
I was supposed to die with my family that night, and death was out to get me.
Death started to get clever, changing his tactic. Instead of using everyday things to try to kill me, he sent reinforcements.
I turned twelve years old, and my aunt threw me a huge party, inviting all my classmates. Aunt May was rich, rich.
Mom never explained it, but our grandparents left everything to May.
The house was like a palace, a labyrinth of floors I was yet to explore, and two swimming pools.
I was in the kitchen cutting myself a slice of cake, when, out of nowhere, a dead boy came rushing at me with one of my aunt’s favorite kitchen knives.
A dead boy who I immediately recognised.
Wren Oliver.
Several years prior, he'd gone missing from his parents' yard. The town launched a full investigation, only to find his body in a ditch a week later.
So, Death had sent a footsoldier.
Hiding under a hooded sweatshirt, Wren appeared older, like he had grown up with me. But there was a startling vacancy in his expression that drew the breath from my lungs, freezing me in place. Wren’s death was announced as an accident, though his wounds suggested the opposite, dried blood smearing his right temple and a cavernous hole in his chest, his clothes painted, stained, in bright red, glued in sticky mounds clinging to him.
The boy’s eyes were wild, feral, like an animal.
His hair was longer, a mess of reddish curls matted to his forehead.
Lip split into a demented giggle.
I remember taking a slow step back, my gaze glued to the knife.
Wren’s fingers were wrapped around the handle like he knew exactly how to use it, how to plunge it into my heart and kill me for good. He moved like a predator, zero self awareness or recognition, only driven to kill me.
The dead boy prided himself in slow, intimidating steps, shoving me against the wall and dragging the blade of the knife down the curve of my throat.
His eyes confused me, writhing with hatred that was artificial, programmed into him as Death’s official soldier.
He didn't speak, only smiled, revelling in my fear. I could tell it thrilled him, my trembling hands, my sharp, heavy breaths I couldn't control. Squeezing my eyes shut, I waited to finally die.
I waited for the pain, and to lose my breath once again.
But death was playing with me.
When I opened my eyes, the dead boy was gone, and I was on my knees, screaming.
“Wren Oliver is trying to kill me!" I managed to hiss.
My aunt knelt in front of me, her expression crumpling.
*Sweetie,” She spoke softly, squeezing my hands. Aunt May was trying to appear calm for my sake, but I could tell she was scared, her frantic eyes searching mine. “Wren Oliver is dead.”
The kids surrounding me started to giggle, whispering among themselves.
In the corner of my eye, my cousin was leaning against the door, mid eye roll.
When my aunt was ushering kids back to the pool, Jude came to crouch in front of me. Ever since I started living with him, he'd made sure to keep his distance.
This time, though, Jude leaned uncomfortably close, a sparkle in his eyes I had never seen before. Inclining his head, he rocked back and forth on his heels, prodding me in the forehead.
“If you see the dead boy again, can you tell me?” His lips curved into a smile.
“I did see him.” I gritted out. “I’m not lying.”
Jude shrugged. “I never said you didn't,” he lowered his voice into a whisper, “I wanna know when you see him again.”
“Why?”
His lips curved into a smirk.
“So, I can catch him.”
My cousin got closer, his breath tickling my cheek.
“I seeeeeeee dead people.”
After that incident, death left me alone for a while.
I was fifteen, walking through the forest with a friend, catching fireflies in bell jars. Aunt May was lucky to live so close to the forest, the entrance just outside her back door. When we were littles, PJ would drag Lily and I down the trail to escape Jude’s weird experiments.
I decided to invite Jem Littlewood on a summer walk.
Jem was cute, but in a dorky way. He was chronically clumsy, and dressed like he'd been spat out of a John Hughes movie. We hiked all the way to the end of the river and had a picnic, watching the sun set over the horizon. I was having conflicting feelings for this guy.
Jem was obsessed with fireflies.
Though he seemed more interested in photographing them than me.
The guy couldn't seem to sit still, jumping to his feet to marvel at tiny specks of light dancing in the air.
“I'm just going to take photos!” Jem beamed, holding up his camera.
I had to bite back the urge to say, “Don't you have enough photos?”
I nodded, and he turned and sprinted back down the trail.
Before his footsteps ground to a sudden halt.
At first, I thought he was snapping polaroids.
When I got closer, though, blinking in the eerie dark, I caught something.
Bending down, I picked up a bell jar still spilling fireflies.
Further down the trail, Jem was lying crumpled in the dirt, his camera smashed to pieces next to him, blood running in thick rivulets down his temple. There he was. Leaning against a tree, his arms folded, was the ghost boy. Wren Oliver was growing up with me. Now, a teenager, and yet his face was carved into something else entirely, more of a monster, slight points to his ears and too-sharp teeth, eyes ignited.
Wren didn't look like a ghost boy anymore.
Death had dressed him in shackles of ivy, a crown of glass and bone forced onto his head, entangled in his curls. Death was torturing him. Wren’s flesh was its canvas, and every time I got away, he was punished, painting his failures across scarred flesh. I should have been running for my life, but I was mesmerised by each symbol cruelly carved into his neck.
The boy did a slow head incline, like he couldn't believe I was standing in front of him.
His slow spreading smile caught me off guard.
I remembered how to run, stumbling over my feet.
But I couldn't move.
The burning hatred that death had filled him with, was stronger, hollowing him out completely. I managed two shaky steps, before I felt him, an unearthly force winding its way around my spine. This time, he didn't hesitate.
I watched his mouth move, a single curve of his upper lip that wrenched my body from my control, slamming me against a tree. There was something around my throat, choking the breath from my lungs, a thick fog spreading over my eyes. Following his mouth curving into silent letters, I could feel my feet slowly leaving the ground, my legs dangling.
I was floating.
Hovering off of the ground, suspended by his words.
Through half lidded eyes, I caught the glint of a blade between his fist, but I couldn't move, couldn't scream.
He was drowning me, bleeding into my blood, spider webbing and expanding in my brain without moving a muscle.
Instead, the ghost boy stood silently, running his thumb down the teeth of his knife while he ripped my lungs apart.
It was like suffocating, sinking into that peaceful oblivion I met at eight years old.
This time, though, the darkness was starving.
“Charlie?”
My eyes found daylight, a scream clawing out of my mouth.
“Charlie, it's past curfew!”
Wren flinched, his stoic expression crumpling.
The dead boy’s lips moved again, this time in a curse.
Fuck.
“Charlotte!”
Staggering back, Wren’s eyes widened and the suffocating hold on me severed.
His head snapped in the direction my aunt was coming from.
“Charlie, answer me right now.”
He hesitated, his bare feet pivoting in the dirt, like he was considering finishing me off. Wren studied me with lazy eyes, sucking on his bottom lip. When my aunt's footsteps got louder, branches snapping under her shoes, something contorted in the boy’s face.
Fear.
I guessed the boy wasn't expecting other humans to intrude.
Wren fell over himself, shuffling on his hands and knees, before diving to his feet. When he turned and ran, I was released, slipping to the ground, trying and failing to draw in breath. I barely felt the impact, only a dull thudding pain. I could hear the ghost boy’s footsteps, his uneven, shuddery breaths as he catapulted into a run.
Under a late setting sun, I watched his dancing shadow disappear into the trees.
Mission unsuccessful, I guessed.
When I was fully conscious, Aunt May was checking over Jem, helping him sit up.
“Where did he go?” I managed to get out, scanning the darkness for Wren.
“He's okay, just concussed.” May whispered, dialling 911.
My aunt applied a dressing to Jem’s wound, ignoring the boy’s hisses.
“Keep still.” she murmured, smoothing his bandaid. “What happened, Charlotte?”
“She pushed me over.” Jem groaned, shuffling away from me. When my aunt told him to stay calm, he straightened up, leaning against the tree. “The psycho bitch tried to fucking kill me!”
When my aunt's gaze flicked to me, I shook my head.
“It was Wren Oliver.” I gritted, teetering on hysteria. I could tell she didn't believe me, but I couldn't stop myself. I prodded at my throat, clawing for the indentations where his phantom fingers snaked around my neck, squeezing the breath from my lungs.
But there was nothing.
I could feel my mind starting to unravel. I nodded to my disgruntled classmate trying to dodge my aunt’s prodding.
“Ow, ow, ow! That stings!
“He knocked Jem out.” I managed. “Then he tried to kill me.”
Jem surprised me with a scoff. “You're seriously blaming your psychotic break on a dead kid?”
Aunt May pursed her lips, motioning for Jem to be quiet. Judging from her face, however, she agreed with the boy.
May forced a smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. “Okay. Can you, uh, describe the boy to me, Charlotte?”
“He was wearing a crown,” I said, “And he looked my age.”
Aunt May cocked her head, and I saw real worry, like she was trying not to freak out. Jem made a snorting noise.
“I'm sorry, he was wearing a crown?”
“Yes!” I insisted, getting progressively more frustrated.
I tried to jump up, only for my aunt to gently lower me back down. “I know it sounds crazy, but death has sent Wren Oliver to kill me, just like my family. He tried to kill me when I was twelve, too!”
Jem let out a bitter laugh. “Your niece is a fucking wackadoodle.”
Aunt May’s eyes darkened. She grabbed my shoulders, her nails stabbing into my skin. “Charlie, I want you to listen to me, okay?” When my eyes found the rapidly darkening sky, my aunt forced me to look at her.
“Charlotte!”
She was as scared as me, her voice shuddering.
“Wren Oliver is dead.” My aunt said firmly, shaking me. Even then, though, I wasn't even looking at her. I was trying to find his ignited eyes lighting up the dark. “Wren died at eight years old in a terrible accident, and you can't keep using him as an excuse for your mental trauma.” There was something twitching in her expression I was trying to make sense of. When I risked a look at Jem, the boy was staring at me dazedly– like I really was crazy.
Aunt May pressed her face into my shoulder, and I could feel her tears soaking into my shirt. She was trying to hold it together, trying to understand.
“Charlie, I know you lost your family,” she whispered. “But you and Wren Oliver are not the same. You survived, and he didn't.” Her voice splintered.
“You need to come to terms with that, okay?”
When I didn't respond, she pinched my chin, forcing me to look at her.
“Charlotte.”
Aunt May’s voice turned cold. “I ignored this when you were a kid, but if you continue to use this poor boy as a coping mechanism, I will have no choice but to send you to a specialist.”
When Jem was taken away by paramedics, Aunt May held my hand, squeezing my fingers for dear life.
I caught her gaze scanning the tree's around us, delving into twisting oblivion. Every little noise sent her twisting around. She was looking for something.
“I'm going to get you help.” Aunt May said in a low murmur when we were back at the house. Jude was sitting on the kitchen counter, legs swinging. I could feel his penetrating gaze burning into the back of my head.
Aunt May set a cup of cocoa on the table.
“No more fairytales.”
By the time I was eighteen, I had bitten three therapists.
They refused to believe that death was coming to reclaim my soul, and was using a dead boy to do his dirty work.
For my 16th birthday, I braced myself to come face to face with Wren Oliver’s ghost.
I wasn't even in town, staying at a friend's house.
But dead boys, and especially dead boys moulded into Death’s personal soldiers, could materialise anywhere.
I locked every door in the house, and taped up my friend’s window.
Nothing happened.
On my seventeenth birthday, I was sick in bed with gastritis.
Still no ghost boy.
Death seemed to have finally left me alone.
On my eighteenth birthday, I was stuffing books in my locker when my cousin popped up out of nowhere, scowling as usual. After an unexpected growth spurt and losing a tonne of baby fat, my cousin had scaled the high school hierarchy, swapping his weird experiments for a varsity jacket and experimenting with his sexuality.
The two of us had come to an unspoken truce.
I kept quiet about his spider collection to his popular friends, and he tolerated my existence until I left for college.
“Your surprise party is cancelled.”
Jude leaned against my locker, running a hand through thick dark hair tucked under a baseball cap. Jude never admitted it, but he was definitely embarrassed of being the odd one out.
My siblings may be dead, but they were still redheads.
I pulled off his cap with a smile, throwing it in his face. “Sure it is.”
My cousin’s eyes widened. He lost his slick bravado, grabbing for his cap.
“Hey!”
According to my cousin, my party was unexpectedly cancelled every year.
I wasn't sure if it was his weird superiority complex, or just plain jealousy, but it was getting exhausting.
Jude followed me down the hallway, matching my stride.
“Can you just not come home tonight?”
I quickened my pace. “It's only a party. I'm having some friends over, and no, we won't go anywhere near your room.”
“No, I mean.” Jude stepped in front of me, and for the first time in a while, he wasn't trying to hide disdain for me.
His dark eyes pinned me in place for a moment, the world around us coming to a halt. Sound bled away, and all I heard were his slow breaths. There was something there, an unexplainable twitch in his eyes and lips, that twisted my gut.
Jude stepped closer, his lip curling. He shoved me back, losing his facade.
“Stay the fuck away from the house tonight.” He said, and his voice, his tone, was enough to send shivers creeping down my spine. Jude had always hid behind a ten foot wall in his mind. It was jarring to see something in him finally start to splinter. Fuck. I thought.
This kid had serious Mommy issues.
I blinked, and the world resumed, kids pushing past us.
Jude seemed to catch himself, slipping back under his mask.
“I'm having friends over,” he rolled his eyes, “Your presence will ruin the vibe.”
“It's my birthday?”
He groaned, tipping his head back. “Yes, I know. But–”
“I think you can deal with the attention off of you for one night, Jude.”
“Will Wren Oliver be there too?” Jem Littlewood hollered.
Jude didn't respond for a moment, his lip curling.
“Shut the fuck up.” He spat at Jem, who immediately backed down. With an audience this time, Jude forced an award winning smile. “Fine.” His lips split into a grin I knew he hated. My cousin clamped his hand on my shoulder, hard enough to hurt. I could feel his fingers pinching the material of my jacket. “Have it your way, dude.”
Jude backed away with a two fingered salute.
“Happy 78th birthday!”
In a sense, I wish I listened to my cousin.
My party was a success, sort of.
Four of us, a crate of beers, and no sign of my cousin.
I was mildly tipsy, sitting on the edge of the pool, dangling my legs in the water when my friend demanded more beers.
I was also hungry for cake, so I stumbled inside in search of the goods.
The house was dark, lit up in dazzling blue from the pool's lights reflecting through the windows. Aunt May was in her office on the ground floor, and Jude was getting high in his room. In my drunken state, I found myself marvelling my aunt's house, and how much of it was left unexplored.
For example, in the foyer, past the spiral staircase she’d had custom made, was an elevator I had never questioned.
There was a girl my age standing on the staircase.
She was frozen, mid run, dressed in ragged jeans and t-shirt.
Everything about her stuck out to me, bringing me to a sobering halt.
The girl reminded me of my sister– or at least, if my sister had ever grown up.
I wasn't sure if I was drunk or hallucinating.
Her flower crown was pretty…
Lily had grown wings.
I was slowly moving towards her, a sudden bang sounding from the kitchen.
The bang of something shattering on the floor.
Twisting around, I found myself gravitating towards warm golden light.
The first thing I saw was the refrigerator door hanging open, and someone, no, something, rooting around inside it.
Glued to the spot, I dazedly watched them grab milk, guzzling it down, and then soda, cracking open each can and sucking them dry, before carving their fingers into my birthday cake. But I wasn't looking at the spillage of food seeping across the floor. Instead, my gaze found a crown of antlers, both human and animal bone entangled with dead flowers and human remains glued to a head of familiar matted brown curls.
There was something sticking from battered and bruised flesh, twin gaping slits sliced through a torn shirt resembling glass wings that were not yet formed, reminding me of a butterfly.
Wings.
But not the wings I dreamed of as a kid. These things were unnatural mounds that both did and didn't make sense on a human boy. I could see the trauma of them slicing through his flesh, monstrous, looming things protruding from what was left of a human spine.
Human, and yet I couldn't call his beautifully grotesque face human.
Wren Oliver had grown up with me, now an adult.
Eighteen years old.
His clothes confused me, a single white shirt and shorts.
Wren’s feet were bare, battered and bruised, blood smearing my aunt's tiles.
Angel.
Death had turned his footsoldier, and my future killer, into an angel.
But there was nothing angelic about the dead boy, his body and mind sculpted and moulded into Death’s own.
The boy no longer resembled a human, feral eyes and a manic smile, choking down pieces of cake. His face had been contorted into a monster, gnashing teeth and sharp points in his ears, a sickly tinge to malnourished skin.
And that's when it hit me, watching him stuff himself with food.
Something slimy inched its way up my throat.
The boy didn't move. I don't even think he'd noticed me, gorging himself on anything he could get his hands on.
Chicken, raw bacon, leftover salad.
When he moved onto cupcakes, licking frosting from his fingers, I glimpsed markings on his arms, a language I didn't understand, carved into him.
His wrists were shackled, bound, in entangled iron and vine, iron that was ingrained into his skin, vines and flowers and ivy entangling his bones, that were part of him, polluting his blood. Slowly, my eyes found stab wounds splitting open his torso.
Raw flesh, where his skin had been torched, melting, and then merging, ripped apart and put back together over and over again.
I found his heart, the gaping cavern in his chest where it should be.
And it was.
Marked, carved, and branded with a symbol resembling an X.
Wren Oliver was not dead.
But, just like me, he should have been.
I remember saying his name, my voice slurred slightly.
I didn't drink that much, but I could barely coerce words, my head spinning.
Wren’s neck snapped towards me, his eyes narrowing with resentment I couldn't understand, hatred that seemed to puppeteer him. Slowly tilting his head, the boy’s lips split into a grin, eyes filled, polluted, with mania. I could see where his lips had been stitched shut, and then ripped open.
“Hi.”
He held up his hand in an awkward wave.
When one of my friends stumbled into the kitchen, Wren reacted on impulse.
He picked up a knife from the counter, throwing it like a dart, straight through the guy’s throat.
Something shattered inside my mind.
Ignoring my friend bleeding out, Wren stumbled over himself, abandoning his feast. He took a single step towards me, backing me against the wall, coming so close, close enough for me to feel his very real breath grazing my cheeks. Just like when he was a kid, he traced the teeth of his blade down my throat. I wasn't expecting him to burst out laughing, trembling with hysteria.
His eyes were wild, feral and wrong, almost euphoric.
With what all I could only recognise as relief.
BANG.
I was barely aware of the gunshot.
The bullet went straight through his head, the winged boy hitting the ground.
Dead.
I saw the blood stemming around him in a halo before the bleeding pool faltered, seeping back inside his head.
Like rewinding a VCR.
Wren was dead, and then he was alive.
Wren’s body contorted, his chest inflating.
His gasp for air was painful, strangled, eyes opening wide.
Terrified.
“You fucking idiot.”
Jude’s voice sent me twisting around.
My cousin stood in the exact same robes he wore as a child.
The world tipped off kilter, and I was on my knees, then my stomach.
I sunk to the floor, my thoughts swimming.
Jude’s murmur followed me, creeping into the dark.
“I told you not to come home.”
I can't remember how long I was unconscious for.
When I woke, I was dressed in an evening gown, a dress that used to be my mother’s.
My vision cleared, and I found myself sitting in an unfamiliar room resembling an abandoned swimming hall.
The pool itself was empty, the bottom stained revealing scarlet.
There were symbols carved into each tile.
Like a game.
“Sit up straight, Charlotte.”
I was sitting at a banquet.
Jude was in front of me, sipping on wine.
He caught my eye for half a second before averting his gaze.
At the far end of the table sat my aunt May.
Kissing the rim of her glass, her smile was twisted.
“I've been waiting so long to give you your birthday presents, Charlotte. Your memories should be returning soon.”
“Mom.” Jude muttered, hiding behind his glass. “Calm down. You're embarrassing yourself.”
Ignoring my cousin, May tapped her glass with a fork, and in walked my birthday presents.
No, dragged.
By their hair.
Wren Oliver, the dead boy, was in fact my aunt's prisoner.
Behind him, was the girl who looked so much like Lily.
I think that's why my aunt chose her.
Aunt May cleared her throat.
“For a long time, our family has lived among creatures who live in the forest you played inside! In exchange for keeping this town safe, they only ask for small favors. Wayward children who disappear into the woods are good enough payment. However, you and your siblings do not share our inheritance. Your mother never wanted fae children. She wanted you to be human.”
Aunt May’s smile faded.
“After losing my sister, and my niece and nephew, I made a deal to give my last surviving niece 100 years of life.”
Her words were white noise, my gaze glued to my birthday presents. I couldn't call them human anymore.
I couldn't call Wren human, when his face was so beautifully grotesque, painfully hypnotising.
The monstrous things sticking from twin slits in his back were supposed to be wings, except they looked wrong, cruelly protruding from his exposed spine. Under the influence of alcohol earlier, the girl made me smile.
Her wings, to me, looked like one of a real fairy.
In reality, they were torn and shredded apart, bigger than the girl herself.
When she dropped onto her stomach, she was dragged back to her feet, her knees buckling under the weight. Her tiara of flowers and bone looked pretty to me when I saw her on the stairs.
Now, though, I could see the pearly white of a human child's skull forced onto her head, dead flowers threaded through cavernous, gaping eye sockets.
The two of them were violently shoved into the empty pool.
“Jude. Please demonstrate, sweetheart.”
Jude stood, pulling out a gun, and aiming it at the winged girl.
BANG.
The girl’s body hit the tiles, her blood seeping across stained white.
“Now, of course, our king did not give you life for free.” May continued.
“The King demanded a debt, as well as two heirs to join him in his court once your hundred years were complete.”
Her lips quirked into a smile.
“The king is smart. If a child cannot be stolen from the human world, they can, however, be made, moulded and shaped from their human forms, skinned of their humanity through their suffering, leaving a hollowed out shell in the child's place.” She was speaking so casually, ignoring Wren’s whimpers.
“The conversion takes a while. 100 years to birth a fully blooded fae heir, who will lose their human memories, in preparation to join their new family.”
Jude shot Wren in the chest, his eyes empty.
This time, he dropped his weapon, using finger-guns instead.
“Bang.” He deadpanned.
Then the neck.
I watched Wren come back to life, and then die.
Over and over again.
I think at one point, he screamed and cried.
But not now.
He was their puppet on display, dancing for their entertainment.
Half lidded eyes drowned in oblivion found mine, and I understood his hatred.
Before he was shot again.
Stabbed.
Branded and burned, and ripped apart.
At some point, I screamed at them to stop. I couldn't breathe, slamming my hands over my ears and begging them.
Aunt May didn't listen, ordering for my hands to be tied down.
“The King required two human sacrifices to suffer in your place.” She concluded. “For one hundred years.”
Aunt May’s smile was suddenly sad, and she lifted her glass in a toast.
I was watching their blood trickle down each tile in the pool, like every death, every time they suffered, my body became progressively less human.
I felt disgusting. I wasn't supposed to be alive. Every single year of my life, every breath I had taken, was stolen.
Aunt May nodded at me, her lips forming a proud smile. She stood up, and was handed a sacrificial knife.
Climbing into the swimming pool herself, she strode over to Wren.
The boy slumped to the floor, trembling, his knees against his chest.
Aunt May grabbed him by the hair, forcing his head up, and sliced the blade across his throat.
His eyes flicked to me, and I swore, he smiled.
Spots of red dotted yellowing tiles, a river trickling under my aunt's heels.
“Happy 78th birthday, Charlotte.”
Last night ended with me being locked in my room.
It's been almost 15 hours, and the door is still locked. Please help me. I'm fucking terrified of what my aunt is planning.
I can't stop shgajing. FycjbfucibFUCK
If she is telling the truth, I shouldn't be here, right??
And I can't stop thinking.
Is Wren Oliver trying to kill me, or himself?

So alot of people love to say it was removed from the bible because of what it contained, but i dont think so.
Enoch is a book thats was supossedly was made by Enoch. It is part of the OT, but Jews neither Chrstians ever thought it was scripture.
There are passages where Jesus and Jude mention it. But Jesus usually says "have you not read" or "it is written" before cross referencing a OT verse.
Jude qoutes it too, but that doesnt make it scripture.
Epimudeas was a greek poet who was quoted, but we dont think thats scripture.
Enoch also lives before the flood, and im pretty sure everything before the flood would be gone by now. For example, most of Egyptian history is gone, and that was after the flood. Its highly unlikely any text would stay.
I really dont know why people believe it.
A youtuber i like made a vid saying enoch was scripture and that the trinty is a lie, i made a comment saying hes wrong and now were aguring over it
heres the vid, the comment were aguring on in by a guy called the_eternal_demon

So alot of people love to say it was removed from the bible because of what it contained, but i dont think so.
Enoch is a book thats was supossedly was made by Enoch. It is part of the OT, but Jews neither Chrstians ever thought it was scripture.
There are passages where Jesus and Jude mention it. But Jesus usually says "have you not read" or "it is written" before cross referencing a OT verse.
Jude qoutes it too, but that doesnt make it scripture.
Epimudeas was a greek poet who was quoted, but we dont think thats scripture.
Enoch also lives before the flood, and im pretty sure everything before the flood would be gone by now. For example, most of Egyptian history is gone, and that was after the flood. Its highly unlikely any text would stay.
I really dont know why people believe it.
A youtuber i like made a vid saying enoch was scripture and that the trinty is a lie, i made a comment saying hes wrong and now were aguring over it
heres the vid, the comment were aguring on in by a guy called the_eternal_demon