Bruce riffs on the debut album by The Traveling Wilburys, “The Traveling Wilburys Vol. 1” from October of 1988 (Margarita / Handle With Care / Not Alone Any More / End of the LIne). ENTERTAINMENT TRACK: "Baby Doll" by Devo (from the motion picture "Tape Heads" STAFF PICKS: “Big League” by Tom Cochrane and Red Rider — Wayne. “Didn't Know It Was Love” by Survivor — Rob. “Kokomo” by The Beach Boys — Lynch. “What's On Your Mind (Pure Energy)” by Information Society — Bruce. COMEDY TRACK: “A Nightmare on My Street” by DJ Jazzy Jeff & the Fresh Prince 1988 - October: The Traveling Wilburys "The Traveling Wilburys Vol. 1" What the Riff?!?

Ranking most to less important inductees year by year!
I'll like to do something interesting regarding the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame & it's gonna be ranking the most to less important inductees year by year. I'll be doing this based on influence, innovation, cultural impact, critical acclaim etc. Note: I'm gonna be focusing on the performers so others in Musical Influence & Excellence would not be included. So here's the rankings.
1986:

1. Chuck Berry
2. Elvis Presley
3. James Brown
4. Little Richard
5. Ray Charles
6. Sam Cooke
7. Buddy Holly
8. Fats Domino
9. The Everly Brothers
10. Jerry Lee Lewis

1987:

1. Aretha Franklin
2. Muddy Waters
3. Marvin Gaye
4. Bo Diddley
5. Smokey Robinson
6. BB King
7. Roy Orbison
8. Carl Perkins
9. Jackie Wilson
10. Bill Haley
11. Ricky Nelson
12. Eddie Cochran
13. Big Joe Turner
14. The Coasters
15. Clyde McPhatter

1988:

1. The Beatles
2. Bob Dylan
3. The Beach Boys
4. The Supremes
5. The Drifters

1989:

1. The Rolling Stones
2. Stevie Wonder
3. The Temptations
4. Otis Redding
5. Dion

1990:

1. The Who
2. The Kinks
3. Simon & Garfunkel
4. The Four Tops
5. The Platters
6. Hank Ballard
7. The Four Seasons
8. Bobby Darin

1991:

1. The Byrds
2. Ike & Tina Turner
3. Wilson Pickett
4. John Lee Hooker
5. The Impressions
6. Jimmy Reed
7. Lavern Baker

1992:

1. The Jimi Hendrix Experience
2. Johnny Cash
3. The Yardbirds
4. The Isley Brothers
5. Booker T. & The M.G.'s
6. Sam & Dave
7. Bobby "Blue" Bland

1993:

1. Sly & The Family Stone
2. The Doors
3. Van Morrison
4. Cream
5. Etta James
6. Creedence Clearwater Revival
7. Ruth Brown
8. Frankie Lymon & The Teenagers

1994:

1. Bob Marley
2. John Lennon
3. Elton John
4. The Band
5. The Grateful Dead
6. Rod Stewart
7. The Animals
8. Duane Eddy

1995:

1. Led Zeppelin
2. Neil Young
3. Frank Zappa
4. Janis Joplin
5. Al Green
6. The Allman Brothers Band
7. Martha & The Vandellas

1996:

1. The Velvet Underground
2. Pink Floyd
3. David Bowie
4. The Shirelles
5. Jefferson Airplane
6. Gladys Knight & The Pips
7. Little Willie John

1997:

1. Joni Mitchell
2. Parliament - Funkadelic
3. The Bee Gees
4. The Jackson 5
5. Crosby, Stills & Nash
6. Buffalo Springfield
7. The (Young) Rascals

1998:

1. Eagles
2. Fleetwood Mac
3. Santana
4. Gene Vincent
5. The Mamas & The Papas
6. Lloyd Price

1999:

1. Bruce Springsteen
2. Curtis Mayfield
3. Billy Joel
4. Dusty Springfield
5. Paul McCartney
6. The Staple Singers
7. Del Shannon

2000:

1. Eric Clapton
2. James Taylor
3. Earth, Wind & Fire
4. Bonnie Raitt
5. The Moonglows
6. The 'Lovin Spoonful

2001:

1. Michael Jackson
2. Queen
3. Aerosmith
4. Steely Dan
5. Paul Simon
6. Solomon Burke
7. The Flamingos
8. Ritchie Valens

2002:

1. Ramones
2. Talking Heads
3. Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers
4. Isaac Hayes
5. Brenda Lee
6. Gene Pitney

2003:

1. The Clash
2. The Police
3. AC/DC
4. Elvis Costello & The Attractions
5. Righteous Brothers

2004:

1. Prince
2. George Harrison
3. ZZ Top
4. Traffic
5. Bob Seger
6. Jackson Browne
7. The Dells

2005:

1. U2
2. Buddy Guy
3. The Pretenders
4. The O'Jays
5. Percy Sledge

2006:

1. Miles Davis
2. Black Sabbath
3. Sex Pistols
4. Lynyrd Skynyrd
5. Blondie

2007:

1. R.E.M
2. Patti Smith
3. Van Halen
4. Grandmaster Flash & Furious Five
5. The Ronettes

2008:

1. Madonna
2. Leonard Cohen
3. John Mellencamp
4. The Ventures
5. DC5

2009:

1. Run - DMC
2. Metallica
3. Bobby Womack
4. Little Anthony & The Imperials
5. Jeff Beck

2010:

1. The Stooges
2. ABBA
3. Genesis
4. Jimmy Cliff
5. The Hollies

2011:

1. Tom Waits
2. Alice Cooper
3. Neil Diamond
4. Dr. John
5. Darlene Love

2012:

1. Beastie Boys
2. Guns N' Roses
3. RHCP
4. Donovan
5. Small Faces/Faces
6. Laura Nyro

2013:

1. Public Enemy
2. Donna Summer
3. Albert King
4. Rush
5. Randy Newman
6. Heart

2014:

1. Nirvana
2. Peter Gabriel
3. Hall & Oates
4. Linda Ronstadt
5. Kiss
6. Cat Stevens/Yusuf Islam

2015:

1. Green Day
2. Lou Reed
3. SRV & Double Trouble
4. Bill Withers
5. Joan Jett & The Blackhearts
6. The Paul Butterfield Blues Band

2016:

1. N.W.A
2. Deep Purple
3. Cheap Trick
4. Chicago
5. Steve Miller

2017:

1. Tupac Shakur
2. Pearl Jam
3. Joan Baez
4. Yes
5. ELO
6. Journey

2018:

1. Nina Simone
2. The Cars
3. Dire Straits
4. The Moody Blues
5. Bon Jovi

2019:

1. Radiohead
2. Janet Jackson
3. The Cure
4. Roxy Music
5. Def Leppard
6. The Zombies
7. Stevie Nicks

2020:

1. Whitney Houston
2. Nine Inch Nails
3. The Notorious B.I.G
4. Depeche Mode
5. T. Rex
6. The Doobie Brothers

2021:

1. Jay - Z
2. Tina Turner
3. Foo Fighters
4. The Go - Go's
5. Todd Rundgren
6. Carole King

2022:

1. Eminem
2. Dolly Parton
3. Eurythmics
4. Duran Duran
5. Pat Benatar
6. Lionel Richie
7. Carly Simon

2023:

1. Willie Nelson
2. Kate Bush
3. Missy Elliott
4. The Spinners
5. RATM
6. George Michael
7. Sheryl Crow

2024:

1. A Tribe Called Quest
2. Mary J. Blige
3. Ozzy Osbourne
4. Kool & The Gang
5. Cher
6. Dave Matthews Band
7. Peter Frampton
8. Foreigner

"You gotta know that there's an art to it, Ezra," Hitch said, cutting another piece of duct tape.
The sleeves of his weather-beaten coat were shoved all the way up his arms, to stop the fabric from falling over his knuckles while he was working, and goosebumps lined his skin. He was strapping a rubber chicken to the back of his truck, over the lens of the shattered backup camera, with the legs pointing down so that they hung a couple inches above the ground. There were dents in the hood from the crash last week, and scratches along the door from scraping into a curb. The chicken, hopefully, would keep him from breaking anything else.
"You can't go cheap," Hitch said. "The cheap rubber chickens only make noise when pressure lets go. That's no good. As soon as I back up into something, I want this chicken to be screaming like it’s in the depths of hell."
“Sure thing,” I said in a monotone, leaning against the side of the truck.
There were scrambled electronic parts piled in the back of the truck, the innards of a radio, a broken computer, tangled wires, a couple loose pairs of earbuds. He found the parts in alleyways or bummed them off his friends for a couple bucks or stole them from the vacation homes that were left empty for most of the year. Then he sold them for a profit at the scrapyard. Hitch had bounced between minimum-wage jobs for a while after high school, spending a couple months as a bagger at the grocery store or as a seasonal worker at the farm two hours down the highway. He'd never stuck with it. At the very least, the scrapyard got him enough money to eat and occasionally spend a night in a motel when he got tired of sleeping in his car.
Hitch pressed the last piece of tape in place and grinned up at me. "I've got something for you, duck."
The nickname came from when I’d broken my leg as a child and waddled around in a cast until it was healed. I hated it with a burning passion, and I glared at Hitch with the ease of twenty-one years of practice. He had a duck tattoo at the base of his thumb that he’d gotten in a back-alley shop as a teenager. He said that he’d gotten it to remind him of me, and the fact that I hated the nickname was just a bonus. It was shaky-lined, with an uneven face, but he loved it anyway.
The handle stuck when Hitch tried to open the door, a consequence of the rust collecting in the crevices of the car and running down the sides like blood from a cut. The car groaned when the door finally popped open, a metal against metal screech that had me flinching away. Hitch dug through the cluttered fast food containers in the passenger-side footwell, eventually coming up with a crinkly paper bag. He waved away the flies buzzing around the opening of the bag and held it out to me.
The last time Hitch had brought me food, I’d gotten food poisoning because he’d left it out in the midday sun for two days. The donut was squished slightly, and the icing was stuck to the bag. I still ate it, grimacing at the harsh citrus flavor. Taking Hitch’s food was an instinct engraved from the days when Dad had given us a can of kidney beans for dinner and Hitch had drank the juice, leaving the beans for me.
I rarely went hungry anymore, three mostly square meals a day and granola in my pockets just in case, but habits didn’t die easy.
These days, Hitch only brought me food when he wanted my help, like when he saw a place he wanted to hit but was worried about doing it alone.
I got in the car, like I always did.
We drove past the cluster of seafood-themed restaurants with chipped paint decks, the beachfront park where there were always shifty-eyed men sitting under the slide, the single room library where all the books had been water damaged in the flood last year. The change was quick as we drove across Main Street, heading closer to the beach. The roads were freshly paved, the concrete a smooth black except where the sun had already started to pick away at it. The three-story homes lining the sides of the street were crouched on elegant stilts, with space underneath for a car or three. Most of the garages were empty, with the lights off and curtains drawn in the house. Come summer, the streets would be swarming with tourists and vacationers, but until then, most of the buildings nearest to the beach were unoccupied.
Hitch stopped as the sun started to go down at a house that was leaning precariously out towards the beach, tilted ever so slightly, the edge of its foundation buried in the shifting sand of the beach. It certainly looked deserted, with an overgrown yard and blue paint peeling off the door in sheets.
Hitch took his hammer out of the backseat, hoisting it over his shoulder. It was two feet of solid metal with rags wrapped around the head to muffle the sound of the hits. Hitch squared up, bending his knees and holding the hammer like a baseball bat. Before he could swing, though, the door creaked open on its own, the hinges squeaking. The house beyond was dark enough that I could only make out general shapes, glimpsing the curve of a sofa to the left, what was maybe the shimmer of a chandelier on the other side.
Hitch lowered his hammer, looking vaguely disappointed that he didn’t get to use it. “That’s…weird as hell.”
“Maybe the deadbolt broke, maybe they forgot to lock it, it doesn’t matter,” I hissed, checking our surroundings for other people again. “Just hurry up and get inside before someone calls the cops.”
Hitch flicked the lightswitch on the wall, and the lights flickered on. They were dim, buzzing audibly and blinking off occasionally. The walls were plastered with contrasting swatches of wallpaper and splattered with random colors. There was neon orange behind the dining table, a galaxy swirl in the kitchen, and on the ceiling there was a repeating floral pattern covered in nametag stickers. Each of the stickers was filled out with The Erlking. Chandeliers hung in every room, three or four for each, and rubber ducks sat on every table. A miniature carousel sat in the corner along with a towering model rocket.
Sand was heaped on every surface, at least a couple inches everywhere. It was piled in the corners and stuck to the walls, and it covered the floor in a thick blanket. Our hesitant steps into the house left footprints clearly outlined in the sand.
Hitch took a cursory look around and headed immediately for the TV mounted on the wall. “Look out the windows and tell me if anyone is coming.”
I shook the sand out of the blinds and pulled them open, then had to brush sand off of the window before I could see anything.
Hitch was quick, practiced at finding and appropriating the things that were worth taking. He came back to me with an armful of electronics and chandeliers, dumping it at my feet before turning to head deeper into the house again.
There was a thump, somewhere upstairs, and then footsteps, slow and deliberate. Hitch froze at the threshold of the room, then ran for the door with me just ahead of him, sand flying out from under our feet.
My hand was almost brushing the doorknob, close enough that I could see the light from the streetlamp outside streaming in through the cracks in the door. My fingers touched the wood and it gave under my touch, becoming malleable and warm. I yelped, stumbling backwards, and the door started to melt. The paint ran down in thick drops, pooling at the bottom of the door, and the wood warped like metal being welded. The soft edges of the door ran into the walls until there was no sign of an exit ever being there.
“Well, well, well,” said a cultured voice with just an edge of snooty elitism. “What do we have here?”
The man was well over eight feet tall, with long black hair covering his eyes. He was wearing a yellow raincoat with holes cut out of the hood to accommodate the deer antlers jutting upwards from his head. There was sand settled on his shoulders and hovering around his head like a halo.
“Who the fuck are you?” Hitch said, inching towards a window.
He smiled, just a little bit, and his teeth shone in the dim light. “I am the Erlking.”
Hitch nodded, and seemed about to respond. I grabbed him by the hand and pulled him towards the window. I could feel sand in the wind roaring against my back as the Erlking growled in anger, the grains scraping harshly against my cheeks.
We were almost to the window when Hitch was ripped away from me, and I came to a startled halt. The sand had formed long grasping arms that pressed Hitch against the floral wallpaper. His wrists were held tight, and as I watched, a sandy hand wrapped around his mouth and forced its way between his teeth. He gagged, and sand trickled out of the corners of his mouth.
The Erlking strolled towards him, not seeming to be in any sort of rush. “You know, I’m not very fond of your yapping.”
He made an idle gesture and the sand wrapped around my ankles, tethering me in place.
“I yap all the time,” Hitch said. “Three-time olympic yapper, that’s me. Best to just let me go now and save yourself some trouble.”
The Erlking tapped a manicured nail against Hitch’s mouth, hard enough to hurt, judging by the way he flinched away. “But why would I ever let you go when I’ve gone to this much trouble to catch you and your sister? It’s so hard, these days, to find people that no one will miss.”
Hitch struggled against the sand, trying to escape and failing. “What do you want with us, then? You just said it, we’re nobody.”
“I’m fae, dear one,” the Erlking said. “I get my power from my followers. And I think that you two will make lovely additions to my flock.”

He flicked Hitch's nose and Hitch gasped. Feathers started to form on his arms, popping out from under his skin in a spray of blood.
Hitch pushed off the wall, using his bound hands as a fulcrum, and his knees crashed into the Erlking’s stomach. The Erlking fell backwards, wheezing, and the sand around my ankles loosened.
Hitch made desperate eye contact with me as feathers shot up his neck and jerked his head towards the window. The message was obvious. Run.
The last thing I saw before crashing out the window and into freedom was Hitch’s body twisting, his arms wrenching into wings and feathers covering every inch of his skin. By the time I landed on the concrete outside, he was a small black bird, held tightly in the Erlking’s hands. The whole building was sinking into the ground, burnished-gold sand piling up over top and streaming from the windows.
Thirty years later, I saw Sam’s Supernatural Consultation and Neutralization written in neat, looping handwriting on a piece of paper taped to the door. The tape was peeling at the corners and the paper was yellowed with age, but there was obviously care put into the sign, in its perfectly centered text and looping floral designs drawn over the edges in gold marker.
I knocked, hesitantly, drawing my woolen coat closer around my shoulders. I’d bought it as a fiftieth birthday gift for myself, and I took comfort in the heavy weight of it over my shoulders.
“Coming!” someone called from within the depths of the office.
There were a couple crashes, and the sound of paper shuffling. Eventually, the door was opened by a young woman with ketchup stains on her shirt and pencils stuck through her hair.
“Hi, I’m Sam, I specialize in supernatural consultation and hunting, how may I help you today?” Sam said, customer-service pep in her voice. She stood in the doorway, solidly blocking entry into the office.
“My name is Ezra, I’m for a consultation. I emailed you but you didn’t respond?” I shifted in place, suddenly feeling awkward.
“Oh! Yeah, I lost the password for the email ages ago. Sorry for the bad welcome, I get lots of people thinking I’m crazy or pulling a prank and harassing me.”
She ushered me into the office, clearing papers off one of the chairs to make room for me to sit down. There was a collection of swords along one wall, all of them polished to perfection, several with deep knicks in the metal which indicated that they’d been used heavily.
“So what can I help you with?” Sam asked again, more sincere this time.
“Thirty years ago, my brother was turned into a bird,” I started. I’d told this story so many times that it barely felt ridiculous to say anymore. I was used to the disbelieving looks, the careful pity. But Sam just nodded along, face open and welcoming.
“I’ve almost given up on finding him, at this point,” I said. “But I saw your ad in the newspaper, and…here I am, I suppose.”
“Here you are,” Sam echoed, smiling. She pulled one of the pencils out of her hair and took a bit of paperwork off of one of her stacks, turning it over so that the blank side sat neatly in front of her. “Tell me everything.”
I told Sam everything, and she wrote it all down, pencil scratching along the paper.
The last part of the story was always the hardest to tell. “I left him there. I ran and I didn’t look back.”
I had been to dozens of detectives and investigators over the years, once the police had dropped Hitch’s case. I’d been to professional offices with smartly-dressed secretaries and met scraggly men in coffee shops. All of them had given me the same look, pity and annoyance all mixed up into a humor-the-crazy-lady soup. Sam, though, just seemed thoughtful.
Sam leaned forward and put a hand over mine, carefully, like she thought that I would pull away. “Sometimes you have to leave people behind.”
I tightened her hold on Sam’s hand and drew it towards me, like I could make Sam listen if only I squeezed tight enough. “But that’s why I’m here. I don’t want to leave him behind.”
“Okay then. I’ll do my best to help you.” Sam agreed, finally. Then she paused, and said softly, “You know…I think I met your brother once. He might have saved my life. He’s certainly why I started in this business.”
“Really? What happened?” I asked.
This is the story that Sam told me, related to the best of my abilities:
It was a new moon, so the only illumination came from the stars gazing idly down and distant porch lights shining across the scraggly brush of the dunes. Sam’s neighbors were decent people who cared about baby turtles, so the lights were a low, unobtrusive red, and the ocean sloshed like blood. Sam walked on the beach almost every night, drawing back the gauzy pink curtains and clambering out her bedroom window. She didn’t often bother to be quiet; her mama worked the late shift and came home exhausted. As long as Sam got home before the sun, her mama would never find out that she paced the shoreline and dreamed of inhaling sand until her lungs became their own beach.
The sky was lightening. The sun would come up soon, and that meant Sam’s time on the beach was over. She needed to get back to her real life, go to her fifth grade class and stop that nonsense, as her mother would say. Her mother loved to say things like that, pushing Sam into her proper place by implication alone.
“She’s a good kid, of course, but she’s a bit…” Her mother would trail off there, usually getting a commiserating expression from whoever she was talking to. Sam always wondered how that sentence would have finished. She’s a bit strange, maybe. She’s a bit intense. She’s a bit abrasive. She’s quiet enough but when Jason tried to steal her pencil in math class, she stabbed him in the hand so hard that the lead tattooed him.
Her mother was better, for the most part. The days of her stocking up the fridge, and leaving a post-it note on the counter, and leaving for days at a time were gone. But Sam still stepped around the place on the kitchen tile where her mother had collapsed and caved her head in, even though the bloodstains had been replaced with new tile.
“Your auntie got an abortion, you know,” her mother had said from her place on the couch, slurring her words. “Pill in the mail and then bam, no more baby.”
She had clapped her hands together to illustrate her point. Her mother jerked forward and grabbed Sam by the wrist, then, staring up at her until Sam met her eyes.
“I love you, you know? But sometimes I wonder…” She settled back onto the couch. “Yeah. I wonder.”
She’d gotten up, then, back to the kitchen. She’d been stumbling, a shambling zombie of a woman. The ground in the entryway of the kitchen was raised, ever so slightly, and her mother went down hard. Her head cracked against the tile, chin first, and she didn’t move.
Sam had been the one to call the ambulance. She had stared at the scattering of loose teeth on the ground while she waited, and considered what her life would be like with a dead mom. Not so bad, she thought, and immediately felt guilty for it.
Her mom was better, now, for the most part. But Sam still stepped around the place on the kitchen floor where she had collapsed. There was still a matchbox hidden under her bed with the gleaming shine of her mother’s lost teeth, two canines and a molar. It was nice, having a piece of her mom to keep. Even if she left again, Sam would still have part of her.
Sam sighed, and turned away from the ocean. As she faced towards the low dunes further up the beach, she saw a sandcastle sitting nestled among them. It was such a strange sight that her eyes skipped over it at first, almost automatically, disregarding it because it was so out of place.
Sam found sandcastles out on the beach sometimes, usually half-collapsed and on the verge of being washed away by the waves, but she had never seen anything like the sandcastle in front of her. It was life-sized, something that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the Scottish highlands, with spires shooting up above her head and carefully etched out bricks lining each side. The front wall was dominated by an arched set of double doors, twice her height, with a portcullis nestled at the top, ready to be dropped. All of it was lovingly detailed, down to the rust on the tips of the towers and the wood grain of the door. It was made out of wet, densely-packed sand, held together impossibly. It had not been there two hours ago, when she had come to the beach.
There was a bird sitting on the overhang of the door, small and black.
As soon as she took a step towards the sandcastle, the bird shook out its feathers and swooped down towards Sam, landing at her feet with a little stumble.
“Hey, kid, get out of here,” said the bird.
Sam closed her eyes, very deliberately. When she opened them, the bird was still there. Sam considered herself a very reasonable person, so she immediately drew the most logical conclusion. The bird was, she was almost certain, a demon.
“Trust me, you don’t want to run into Mr. Salty, the queen bitch himself,” the bird said.
“Mr. Salty?” Sam inquired, polite as she knew how to be. She edged to the side, trying to get a good angle to kick the bird like a soccer ball.
The bird did something similar to a wince, all its feathers fluffing up then settling back down. “Ah, don’t call him that. He’d turn you into a toad.”
The bird gestured with its head, towards the looming sand structure. “That’s his castle. He’s in there, probably scuttling along the ceiling or some shit because that’s the sort of weirdo he is.”
Sam nodded, encouraging. She pulled back her foot and lined up her shot, the way she’d seen athletes do on TV. She aimed right for its sharp beak and let loose. The bird saw it coming, its beady eyes widening, and it cawed in distress. It flapped away, avoiding her kick only to fall backward into the sand in a scramble of wings.
“What’s your fucking problem?” it squawked. “I was trying to help you!”
“I don’t need the help of a demon,” Sam yelled, trying to remember the exorcism that her mama had taught her once, because her mama believed in being prepared for anything.
“I’m not a demon,” the bird said indignantly.
It was at about that moment that Sam gave up and just decided to roll with it.
“What are you, then?” Sam asked.
The bird shuffled its clawed feet, looking about as awkward as it could, given that it didn’t really have recognizable facial expressions. “Technically I’m a familiar of the Erlking, prince of the fae, but I prefer to be called Hitch.”
“You can’t blame me for assuming, though,” Sam said. “Ravens do tend to be associated with murder.”
“Hey, excuse you,” Hitch said. “I’m a rook, not a raven. Ravens are way bigger.”
“Sure,” Sam said, not really paying attention. Her eyes had caught on the details of the sandcastle, and she was transfixed by the slow spirals of the sand, the strange beauty of it. She found herself stepping towards the great doors, lifting a hand to knock, and as she did, the sand warped in front of her eyes, heaving itself towards her with bulging slowness. The door creaked open before her, revealing a vast, empty room. Just before she stepped inside, she felt a piercing pain in her foot, and she yelped, leaping backwards.
Hitch pecked her again, really digging his beak in. “Don’t be an idiot.”
Sam glared at him, rubbing her foot. About to retort, she finally really took in the room inside the sandcastle, and her words died in her throat.
There was a body just past the threshold of the door, face down and limbs hanging limp at its sides. Long hair splayed out in a halo around its head.
“Don’t,” Hitch warned, suddenly serious. “Just leave, kid, I mean it. I’ve seen too many people go down this road and you don’t want to be one of them.”
Sam ignored him. She made her way across the beach, slipping with every step. The sand felt deeper, piling up around her feet in silent drifts. She picked up the nearest stick and poked the body with it through the door, ready to leap back if anything went wrong, staying firmly outside of the sandcastle.
This close, Sam could tell that it used to be a woman. Her head wasn’t attached to her body. It hadn’t been a clean amputation, either. Her upper body was bruised, with chunks taken out of it, and the bones in her neck hung mangled, not connected to anything.
“Well, I warned you,” Hitch said, defeated. “I did warn you.”
Sam nudged the head with the end of the stick, nudging it over so that she could see the face. Her mother stared back at her, torn to pieces, breath still wheezing from her lungs. She wasn’t blinking, just gazing forward with glazed eyes. Sweat dripped down from her hairline.
Sam screamed and dropped the stick, tripping over herself in her haste to get away.
Her mother’s eyes were wide and pleading, and she was mouthing desperate words at Sam. Her vocal cords were broken to bits, and the only sound that came out was a strained groan.
The head rolled, inching closer to Sam like a grotesque caterpillar.
Her mother gasped for air, torn lips fluttering. Finally, comprehensible words came out. “Help. Help me, daughter.”
“That’s not your mother,” Hitch said, quiet.
Sam knew that. Her mother was sleeping back at home, and anyways her mom had never asked for her help. She had an aversion to accepting charity, as she put it.
“Okay,” Sam said, shaking all over. “Okay.”
She backed away from the sandcastle, not looking away.
“Failure,” her mother hissed as she stepped away. “I never wanted a daughter like you.”
The sun came up over the horizon. The sandcastle, Hitch, and her mom all disintegrated into sand as the light hit them.
The beach, the next night, was almost exactly how I remembered it. The beams of our flashlights sent light bouncing across the dunes, illuminating the waves, and I imagined faces in the foam of the waves.
“I’ve been back here a hundred times. There’s nothing left,” I said.
Sam took the car key out of her purse and pointed it at the sand, adjusting the sword slung over her shoulder in order to do it. The key had belonged to Hitch; Sam had requested an item of his, and it was the only thing I had left. She rested the key on the sand and drew a circle around it, inscribing symbols around the borders.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
Sam shrugged. “Not much, really. I’m…I guess you could say that I’m knocking.”
The key laid inert on the sand for long enough that I was just about to give up and go home, admit to myself that Hitch was dead and that I was a fool to believe that Sam could actually help me. Then a building started to take shape, flickering in and out like it was struggling to get away. With a pop of displaced air, the sandcastle settled into existence.
Sam banged on the entryway. Nothing happened. She did it again, harder, and scowled when the door still didn’t open.
“We demand entrance, under your honor,” Sam yelled. There was a hard rush of wind, and I gripped Sam’s arm to keep my balance, but the doors cracked open reluctantly.
The inside of the sandcastle consisted of one enormous hall, the roof arching up out of sight. Rafters crisscrossed from wall to wall, and a cobbled path led further into the building, but other than that, it was completely empty, except for the birds. There were thousands of them, perched on the rafters or hopping along the ground. They parted in front of Sam and I, and reformed behind us, leaving us in a small pocket of open space. They were all black-feathered, with sharp beaks and beady eyes.
The Erlking sat on a throne at the end of the hall, lounging across it with his feet up on the armrest. He watched them as they came forward, the soft caw of the birds the only sound.
“I am here to bargain for the life of my brother,” I said, with as much dignity as I could muster, before the Erlking could say anything.
The Erlking ignored her, tilting his head to look at Sam. “I remember you. I almost got you, once.”

Sam glared at him but didn’t respond.
“You want your brother,” The Erlking said to me, and he almost sounded amused. “Then go get him.”
As if by some sort of silent signal, every bird in the room took flight at once, and their cawing made me think of screams. I covered my head against the flapping of their wings, and my vision was quickly obscured by the chaotic movement of them. I found myself on my knees, just trying to escape them.
A hand met my shoulder. Sam urged me to my feet, and together we ran for the edge of the room, where the swarm was the thinnest. We pressed ourselves into the corner and the swarm spiraled tighter and tighter at the center of the room. It went on until there seemed to be no differentiation between the birds, all of them fused together into one creature.
When the chaos died down, the birds had become one mass, with wings and eyes and talons sticking out of its flesh, thrashing and chirping. Human body parts stuck out of it, bulging out from the feathers. It was hands, mostly, with a couple knees or staring eyes. The bird amalgamation had no recognizable facial features, but there was one long beak extending from the front of its head. Most of the body parts were concentrated around the beak, and they peeked out from where the beak connected with muscle, or grew from the tongue, nestled between the two crushing halves of the beak.
It turned its beak down and crawled forward, using the hands to balance. The fingers scrambled over the ground. I was afraid of centipedes as a child, and I felt that same crawling dread when it started moving.
“Holy shit,” Sam whispered, which was rather disappointing, because I had been hoping that at least one of us knew what to do.
The creature turned, a lurching movement that crushed some of the hands underneath it, and started heaving itself slowly towards our corner.
“Better hurry up!” the Erlking called from his throne.
It was blocking the exit, by then. The shifting body of it had moved to block us off. It ambled towards us and I tried to sink further into the corner.
As it approached, getting close enough that I could smell the stink of it, I saw a flash of a tattoo on one of the hands. I leaned in, trying to find it again, like looking for dolphins surfacing in the ocean. And again, I caught a glimpse of a duck tattoo, the tattoo that Hitch had gotten on his hand as a teenager.
I ripped away from Sam’s death grip and ran for the monster.
I fell to my knees in front of it, wincing as I impacted the ground, and reached into the nest of hands. I could feel them tearing at my forearms and ripping into me with their sharp nails, but I kept going. I pressed further in, up to my shoulder in a writhing mass of limbs, aiming for the spot where I had last seen that tattoo.
The hands were tugging at me, wrapping around my back and hair. They were pulling together, trying to draw me completely into the mass of them. I was aware of Sam at my side, anchoring me in place and bashing any hand that got too close with her sword or the sparks that leapt from her hands with muttered words. But I didn’t think it would be enough. They were too strong, and there were too many of them.
I was up to my waist in the hands when something grabbed my palm. I felt the way it clung to me, and the calluses on its palm, and I knew that I had found my brother.
I flung herself back. The hands didn’t want to let me go, and they fought the whole way, but slowly, I made progress. I kept hold of Hitch’s hand in mine the whole time, gripping it as hard as I could. I finally broke free, Hitch with me, and Sam was immediately charging the creature, able to use her sword with much greater strength without being worried about injuring Hitch. She swung it forward, and it sliced through the wrist of one of the hands. It fell without a sound, red sand flowing out of it. It deflated until it looked like dirty laundry, just a piece of limp flesh. The creature shrieked, scuttling away enough that the door was finally accessible. The three of us ran for it, Sam and I supporting Hitch between us.
I looked back as I left and found the Erlking staring right at me.
“Interesting,” he murmured, his voice carrying impossibly across the vast space between us.
The sandcastle collapsed behind us, the great walls falling in on themselves. We were out in the morning sun, the sandcastle disappearing as we watched. Hitch was on the ground in front of me, as young as he’d been thirty years ago, when he was captured. He started laughing, feathers puffing out of his mouth. He laughed until he cried and I hugged him in the way that he’d held me when I was young, in the times when my life had been defined by hunger and fear.
Hitch left, afterwards. He scratched at the pinhole scars covering his body, where feathers burst through his skin, and pulled his long sleeves down around his wrists. He didn’t know where he was going but he told me that he needed time
I had spent thirty years worth of time without him. I wanted to grab my brother by the shoulders and beg him to stay. But he flinched when I hugged him goodbye and he refused to go near sand and he stared distrustfully at the birds chirping in the trees. Hitch needed to go away and I loved him too much to stop him.
I sat out on the beach every morning. I felt the sun on my face and I waited for Hitch to come home.

I have recently gotten into my Greek mythology era and am wondering if there any are any good novels/lore about Christian/Jewish mythology/historical texts rewritten. I just finished reading The Song of Achilles and Circe by Madeline Miller and I am in love with the way she had a queer feminism take on The Iliad and The Odyssey, such ancient and familiar stories with a fresh narrative. I want to read the love story between David and Jonathan. I want to read the first person perspective of Ester. I want to read fan-fiction of the teens bullying Elijah for being bald so he sent bears to maul them. I want more lectio narrativa and Those Who Wait from Tanya Marlow. I want the book form of the masterpiece The Prince of Egypt. I want the modern retelling of Noah, but much better than Bruce Almighty. I want season 2 episode 2 of Good Omens with Job as a whole novel. As a mostly-ex-Christian, I want to find new perspectives in engaging narratives of the ancient texts and Bible stories I was raised with. Does this exist?

Quick summary: yes, it's cheap but heart and talent seemingly come cheap. My full review v
I've heard plenty about this non-equity Shrek tour, albeit AFTER I bought tickets because I saw the advertisement in my theater. I thought about getting a refund in the weeks before the show but in every review, I heard praise for the cast. Also, I've loved this musical for a while so I decided to take a risk and went today.
It was WELL worth it :D
To address the dragon in the room, yes, it's clear the budget wasn't high. If nothing else I say will convince you to try this show at the prices they're asking, you won't hurt my feelings finding another thread. I'll be clear that I hate that the cast and crew don't get pay much in a non-equity performance.
That said, the art direction was nice. I consider it akin to the 1st Toy Story, where the CGI is dated but the art direction still makes it nice to look at (not to mention the story and acting ;) ). There wasn't much in sets but what was there were nice, storybook-like structures and hangings. Nothing like Broadway's but the designers did what they could and succeeded.
I won't defend the Shrek make-up. I could see the edge of the bald cap from my seat (row P, orchestra section) while I can barely see the mesh ear holes in the proshot. That said, I do like the tour Shrek's proportions better; while it looked cool, I thought Broadway covered Brian d'Arcy James in too much padding and latex to make him look like the animated Shrek. You just need a bald head and the ears; Shrek's pretty distinctive :)
On that note, if you're not going with puppetry, it's hard to depict a lot of the characters in Shrek. The Broadway costumes DO look a lost better but the tour costumes did a good job to suggest their characters. Not exactly Tony-winning or Broadway caliber but serviceable (if I had unlimited power for a Shrek revival, comparisons to The Lion King would be apt; not a complete copy of LK's style but certainly puppet heavy like it).
Really, the only bad thing I can say about the tour is that there were a few moments where a cast member's mic isn't turned on in time for a lyric/line. That was annoying, especially during adult Fiona's big intro in "I Know It's Today." Otherwise, there were only a few moments where the mixing was off but it was overall good (and I don't think my theater has the best acoustics).
Now for the unabashedly good :D
The cast was phenomenal. If they agreed with this subreddit that the production was cheap, they didn't let that affect their performance (or it did and they worked harder to compensate). In particular, Nicholas Hambruch, Cecily Dionne Davis, and Naphtali Yaakov Curry as the main trio (Shrek, Fiona, & Donkey respectively) were excellent and up there with both their Broadway and animated counterparts (and the 1st tour that came years ago to the same theater, even if I don't remember their names). Everyone else was excellent. They sang, danced, and acted to the T and deserved every applause and laugh they got. I can't say enough.
Music was good. The six-person band did the show good (not sure if there were prerecorded tracks to make the music fuller). I didn't re-listen to the cast album as I like going to shows as fresh as I can so I can't judge between Broadway and tour arrangements but the tour did the score good.
It's also fun to see how the show evolved from the original version and proshot.
To those use "woke" the same way most people use "f", "s", or "autotune", the changes would drive them crazy. Quite frankly, the changes fit the show and does not hurt it. Heck, you'd only notice them if you're familiar with the proshot and cast album.
The most noticeable is that Farquaad is no longer short and the short jokes are gone. Turns out, Farquaad is still a campy, prima donna that's a hilarious parody of a typical dashing, brave prince. We lose his second song in favor of a brief reprise of "What's Up, Duloc" and his back story that's revealed there. I do miss it and the depth it gave him (even if it turned out to be bull-squirt at the end) but the show isn't really hurt by it.
Also, some songs have preludes with the ensemble acting as narrators/Greek chorus (I enjoy the fact that Shrek is the type of franchise where I have to clarify that I don't mean LITERALLY a Greek chorus :D). Doesn't really add much to the show but not bad changes. Them holding scenic elements does make some moments funnier, particularly the forest animals in "Morning Person" and flowers in "I Think I Got You Beat." The puppets used for the kid versions of Shrek and Fiona were pretty good too (and understandable if they're keeping costs down).
There's 2 lyric changes that I noticed (might be more but I'm not remembering) that were just as good as the original and only stood out because I've heard the cast album so many times. One is that the wolf is not called a hot & tranny mess but now mocked for his fashion sense dressing like a grandma. The other (I remember) is Shrek no longer calls Fiona fat during "When Words Fail" but gets flustered mentioning love. Like I said, more inclusive yet still keeping in spirit with the show.
A major change that I ADORE, and I'm not ashamed to admit it, is Shrek's participation in the "Freak Flag." Broadway's Shrek-less version isn't bad and I do miss "Build A Wall" but Shrek being a part of it means he gets to share in the fairytale creatures' epiphany of accepting yourself. Granted, the subtle approach of the film and Broadway production worked just as well but, if you're gonna make a big showstopper song out of the moral, it works really well including the main character.
We do lose "Don't Let Me Go" and "This Is How A Dream Comes True." It IS a little disappointing but, in fairness, I didn't realize until writing this review that "Don't Let Me Go" was missing and the reprise of "I Know It's Today" isn't a bad replacement (although I do wish "This Is How A Dream Comes True" was kept).
Also no "I'm A Believer" but, again, the tour's budget likely precluded it (being a song not written for the show and only ever used after the curtain call).
In summary, no, I can't defend paying normal tour prices for the less than Broadway/high school production value. However, if you can afford it, you get a production that keeps the Broadway production's heart and humor with updates that doesn't fundamentally change the show's DNA. I know it's disappointing Shrek isn't getting the budget it deserves but this tour proves Shrek is a strong enough show to survive a low budget with good actors/singers.
That said, at least the Broadway version exists as a proshot if my review wasn't persuasive :)
(Added some pics. Im not always comfortable posting my face online so please excuse the edits to my selfies. I think they improvements :P ;). The last 2 pics are of my souvenirs; I like magnets and the pen, a floating pen starring Donkey is cute :D)

So for context, I'm not from the US, but I've had the feeling for a long time that I can't really resonate with characters in newer American sitcoms.
In a sitcom such as Friends, while the characters are obviously heightened for comedic effect, they still feel like real adults with real feelings. This is even the case with more overacted and heightened shows such as The Fresh Prince of Bel Air. The characters feel grounded, aside from the more goofy plotlines, and you can emphatise with them and see the world from their perspectives.
However with newer sitcoms, it feels like the characters are caricatures with the emotional capacity and restraint of children, all acting in these strange fake worlds. A couple of examples would be The US Office (esp after season 3), Parks and Recreation, Modern Family and How I Met Your Mother. While I do enjoy the humor in many of these shows, the characters don't feel at all relatable, and bear little resemblance to the actual people I know and interact with in my everyday life. This is only really the case for me with American sitcoms, as I can still resonate with characters in newer Danish, Norwegian and UK series.
I genuinely don't know whether this is the result of different styles, a different philosophy of acting or more overall shifts in American culture, but the feeling of "fakeness" is very much real to me. It might just be me, but I would be interested to hear if any of you have had similar feelings, and I would enjoy hearing perspectives from both non-Americans and Americans.
Edit: I don't mean that their economic situations or opportunities in life were more real before. In fact, newer US sitcoms seem much more willing to deal with personal financial struggles that aren't simply laughed off. The feeling is related to the behaviour and emotional responses of the characters, which do feel more real to me.

Do your tastes in fiction run a bit darker than most? Do you find yourself rooting for the bad guys in movies? Do you enjoy a good tragedy over a happy ending? If the answer to any of these questions is yes, this post is for you.
If you're anything like me, you've probably found yourself chasing the Abercrombie dragon after completing The First Law, standalones, and The Age of Madness trilogy, only to find that nothing else quite scratches that grimdark itch. Whether it's Joe's unforgettable characters, sharp dialogues, or epic battles, there's just something missing from other offerings in the genre.
So, as a thanks to all the authors of various recommendation threads from which I've picked up some wonderful books, I've put together this list to share where my wanderings have taken me and to hopefully point others like me in the right direction.
In no particular order:

1. Assassin's Apprentice - Robin Hobb (fb: Royal Assassin, Assassin's Quest)
   
2. Dune - Frank Herbert (fb: Dune Messiah, Children of Dune, God Emperor of Dune...)
   
3. The Road - Cormac McCarthy
   
4. Blood Meridian - Cormac McCarthy
   
5. The Shadow of the Torturer - Gene Wolf (fb: The Claw of the Conciliator, The Sword of the Lictor, The Citadel of the Autarch)
   
6. The Black Company - Glen Cook (fb: Shadows Linger, The White Rose, Shadow Games, Dreams of Steel, The Silver Spike, Bleak Seasons, She Is the Darkness, Water Sleeps, Soldiers Live...)
   
7. Heroes Die - Matthew Stover (fb: Blade of Tyshalle)
   
8. Theft of Swords - Michael J. Sullivan (fb: Rise of Empire, Heir of Novron)
   
9. The Darkness That Comes Before - R. Scott Bakker (fb: The Warrior Prophet, The Thousandfold Thought, The Judging Eye, The White-Luck Warrior, The Great Ordeal, The Unholy Consult)
   
10. Prince of Thorns - Mark Lawrence (fb: King of Thorns, Emperor of Thorns)
    
11. Gardens of the Moon - Steven Erikson (fb: Deadhouse Gates, Memories of Ice, House of Chains, Midnight Tides, The Bonehunters, Reaper's Gale, Toll the Hounds, Dust of Dreams, The Crippled God)
    
12. Blood Song - Anthony Ryan (fb: Tower Lord, Queen of Fire)
    
13. Metro 2033 - Dmitry Glukhovsky (fb: Metro 2034, Metro 2035)
    
14. Red Rising - Pierce Brown (fb: Golden Son, Morning Star, Iron Gold, Dark Age, Lightbringer...)
    
15. The Winter King - Bernard Cornwell (fb: Enemy of God, Excalibur)
    
16. The Traitor Baru Cormorant - Seth Dickinson (fb: The Monster Baru Cormorant, The Tyrant Baru Cormorant...)
    
17. Horus Rising (Warhammer 40k) - Dan Abnett (fb: False Gods, Galaxy in Flames)
    
18. Xenos (Warhammer 40k) - Dan Abnett (fb: Malleus, Hereticus, Ravenor...)
    
19. Red Sister - Mark Lawrence (fb: Grey Sister, Holy Sister)
    
20. The Ember Blade - Chris Wooding (fb: The Shadow Casket)
    
21. Priest of Bones - Peter McLean (fb: Priest of Lies, Priest of Gallows, Priest of Crowns)
    
22. The Conspiracy Against the Human Race (this was the basis for True Detective - Thomas Ligotti (fb: Songs of a Dead Dreamer)
    
23. Kings of Paradise - Richard Nell (fb: Kings of Ash, Kings of Heavan)
    
24. Empire of Silence - Christopher Ruocchio (fb: Howling Dark, Demon in White, Kingdoms of Death, Ashes of Man, Disquiet Gods)
    
25. We Are the Dead - Mike Shackle (fb: A Fool's Hope, Until the Last)
    
26. The Black Prism - Brent Weeks (fb: The Blinding Knife, The Broken Eye, The Blood Mirror, The Burning White)
    
27. Sixteen Ways to Defend a Walled City - K.J. Parker (fb: How to Rule an Empire and Get Away with It, Practical Guide to Conquering the World)
    
28. Blackwing - Ed McDonald (fb: Ravencry, Crowfall)
    
29. A Game of Thrones - George R. R. Martin (fb: A Clash of Kings, A Storm of Swords, A Feast for Crows, A Dance with Dragons.......pls George)
    
30. The Way of Shadows - Brent Weeks (fb: Shadow's Edge, Beyond the Shadows)
    
31. Chasing Graves - Ben Galley (fb: Grim Solace, Breaking Chaos)
    
32. Soul Hunter (Warhammer 40k) - Aaron Dembski-Bowden (fb: Blood Reaver, Void Stalker)
    
33. Berserk (Manga) - Kentaro Miura
    
34. Beyond Redemption - Michael R. Fletcher (fb: The Mirror's Truth, Swarm and Steel)
    
35. The Warded Man - Peter V. Brett (fb: The Desert Spear, The Daylight War, The Skull Throne, The Core)
    
36. The Barrow - Mark Smylie (fb: Black Heart)
    
37. Winterbirth - Brian Ruckley (fb: Bloodheir, Fall of Thanes)
    
38. Scourge of the Betrayer - Jeff Salyards (fb: Veil of the Deserters, Chains of the Heretic)
    
39. The Lies of Locke Lamora - Scott Lynch (fb: Red Seas Under Red Skies, The Republic of Thieves...
    
40. The Name of the Wind - Patrick Rothfuss (fb: The Wise Man's Fear...)
    

If you enjoyed this list, please drop some recommendations! I'm always hunting for more quality grimdark.
EDIT:
Thread Recommendations:

1. Cahokia Jazz - Francis Stupford
   
2. Tomorrow's Children - Daniel Polansky
   
3. Between Two Fires - Christopher Buehlman
   
4. Pale (web serial) - Wildbow
   
5. The Band - Nicholas Eames (Kings of the Wyld, Bloody Rose)
   
6. Firefall - Peter Watts (Blindsight, Echopraxia)
   
7. The Faithful and the Fallen - John Gwynne (Malice, Valor, Ruin, Wrath)
   
8. The Bloodsworn Trilogy - John Gwynne (The Shadow of the Gods, The Hunger of the Gods, The Fury of the Gods)
   
9. The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever - Stephen R. Donaldson (Lord Foul's Bane, The Illeath War, The Power that Preserves, The Wounded Land, The One Tree, White Gold Wielder, The Runes of the Earth, Fatal Revenant, Against All Things Ending, The Last Dark)
   
10. The Gap Cycle - Stephen R. Donaldson (The Real Story: The Gap Into Conflict, Forbidden Knowledge: The Gap Into Vision, A Dark and Hungry God Arises: The Gap into Power, Chaos and Order, This Day All Gods Die)
    
11. The Chronicles of Amber - Roger Zelazny (Nine Princes in Amber, The Guns of Avalon, Sign of the Unicorn, The Hand of Oberon, The Courts of Chaos, Trumps of Doom, Blood of Amber, Sign of Chaos, Knights of Shadows, Prince of Chaos)
    
12. The Broken Earth Trilogy - N.K. Jemisin (The Fifth Season, The Obelisk Gate, The Stone Sky)
    
13. Dungeon Crawler Carl (Lit RPG) - Matt Dinniman (Dungeon Crawler Carl, Carl's Doomsday Scenario, The Dungeon Anarchist's Cookbook, The Gate of the Feral Gods, The Butcher's Masquerade, The Eye of the Bedlam Bridge)
    
14. Gnomon - Nick Harkaway
    
15. The Gone-Away World - Nick Harkaway
    
16. Lonesome Dove, Streets of Laredo, Dead Man's Walk (Western/Abercrombie influence) - Larry McMurtry
    
17. The Blacktongue Thief - Christopher Buehlman
    

I've Been Doing a Lot of Whatever the Fuck I Want Lately and I Like It
It's the day of Ayonna's Zoom court hearing so she's thinking about survivalist jailhouse makeup hacks. They've improved since women used to use scraped paint chips off their cell walls as face powder, dampened red paper as rouge, permanent markers for eyebrow pencils, Kool-Aid doubling as hair dye and blush, and M&Ms as lipstick because deprivation causes innovation for self-preservation. That and Jamahl's excruciatingly murky explanation of his 2-year wedding day gap even though he's as open a book as a text at a class final that provides no specific answers to a general essay question. It's not that he wants to delay a ceremony displaying his love for Shellfish publicly; it's about financing a befittingly royal wedding for the ghetto version of Prince Charles and the late Diana Spencer to whom the masses must bow down, and that includes the judge who simply doesn't understand the trials and tribulations of a multi-tasking single mother with behavioral problems negotiating her child's breakfast.
Court: . . . will continue matter until she can show up in court next week since we are clearly inconveniencing her. 🙄
Ayonna: I'm just a single mother with no help. You're not going to tell me I can't feed my daughter; that's never going to happen. Is it ok if I give my daughter breakfast?
Court: We are in court here. This is a court proceeding. ⚖️
Ayonna: Ok. Just be hungry. 😏
Four years probation because the judge's gnarly attitude is taking it out on me? Girl, what are you talking about? Bitch, you're gonna' tell me I can't feed my daughter? She can kiss my ass! I'm livid. Livid! 🤬
Jamahl: At the end of the day filled with dickheads, we still gotta' bite our tongues.
I'm not selfish; I've just decided that taking your feelings into consideration is too much damn work.
Keep Your Head High and Your Middle Finger Higher
For someone more accustomed to being abused than amused, Candice has said "I love you" to Andrew more times than the repetitive phrase, turn down for what, in the party anthem by DJ Snake and Lil Jon of the same name. While Andrew, true to his word, kneels and immediately proposes, Candice hesitates, and in that moment, resembles a raw double-chinned Pillsbury dough girl with an unnatural sheen, a face too sunken in its gravity to show happiness, and sad raisin eyes reflecting physical distress. But Andrew doesn't clock any of this; he's carrying out his promise to Candice's mom in a dream he made up though she has more eyes on her truck as she doubtless recalls her fond days of street racing, driving without a license, attempted stolen vehicle, felony burglary and constantly running from the police. If she were wearing cargo pants, she could stuff them with the faux Louis Vuitton handbag contents to savor as she completes her halfway house program so she can change addresses. If he could see past his own needs, he'd notice she was trying to figure where the hell he got the idea she cared. If I've cut you, it's because you handed me the scissors.
Patience: What You Have When There Are Too Many Witnesses
Joey is taking advice from Minerva, a sex columnist who looks like Chris Farley in drag who was super stoned and wandered into the backrooms of "Saturday Night Live" for a costume change and makeup refresh before rehearsing his Fellatio 101 sketch outlined on a chalkboard: Watch amateur porn for tips. Practice dirty talk. Get excited about being excited. Use both hands simultaneously and don't bogart that spit. Don't forget, steady wins the race. Freshen up before getting online and spending money for a rented motel room far away from your parents so you can have 15 minutes of precious sexy time before your monogamous lover warns you to deactivate your online profile that his friend saw. Hey, I found your nose; it was in my business.
The King Eats First
Once again, the kids are savvier than their parents. A striking Cheyenne and Nehemiah adjust their schedules to Rob's extended sentence that Tennie tries to embroider in her naïveté while every family member is worried about their displacement when Rob physically enters the picture even though he's already there in camera spirit. It's a which-came-first-the-chicken-or-the-egg question - is it a good thing the alpha male has streams-of-revenue for Tennie's shopping jones or is she shopping because she's worried about getting with an alpha male? He's a poker king like Marcelino making 6-7K a month in jail even though online playing for real money is prohibited, and I doubt his pod mates have that kind of extra cash regularly available. Any man in this day and age who can tell a woman to "sit down and be cute" must have it figured out as a lion doesn't care about a sheep's opinion. I bring too much to the table to be treated like a napkin.
Does One of Your Balls Hang Lower Than the Other?
Rick looks like a twig the wind blew off a tree or a stranded lost lamb in a field surrounded by hungry landlocked predators looking for a banquet. Sandy is sending him pictures of the reunion to remind him of her existence while 4x-married Samantha is positioning herself to long-distance bullrope and hog tie her bachelor into a ball-and-chain before he has time to think about how he's going to stretch a rigorously set pension into providing her commissary and visitation requests. His pickleball buddy, Dan, doesn't really give a damn; it's only his nieces who are rightfully tut-tutting her dictatorial attitude and snarking, "Fifth time is a charm." "Maybe I do have options," Rick muses, but then turns around and crows, "She builds me up." Sure, right after she shakes him up - like a snow globe. It ain't what you don't know that gets you in trouble; It's what you know for sure that just ain't so.

*** = listener speaking
Can be monetised, just please link back to either this post or my YouTube!
Gender(s) can be changed if wanted!
~~~
Sweetie!
[grab]
I’ve been looking all over for you! This isn’t your usual area, why are you cleaning up over here?
***
Oh, right, father has guests coming, doesn’t he?
Ugh, that means I’m going to have to make small talk with their daughters instead of being able to hang out with you…
[speaker sighs]
Well, it doesn’t matter right now!
Come on, come on! Let’s go hang out right now! Take a break!
***
Oh, who cares about them?
They might be in charge of the schedule, but I’m in charge of them.
If they have an issue with you taking a much-needed break at the request of the lady of the house, I’ll happily deal with them.
Okay? Now, let’s go outside and get some sunlight!
[walk outside; sit]
Ahhh, it’s always nice to have the fresh air hit your face when you come outside, isn’t it?
I wish your job would let you come outside more often. You’re going to look all washed-out if you don’t get enough sunlight!
That beautiful complexion of yours is a national treasure, it needs to be preserved!
Speaking of preserving your beauty…
[brush cheek]
You’re covered in dust and dirt!
Why do they always seem to give you all the dirtiest jobs?
***
Why should it matter that everyone else is doing the same jobs?
You’re different! You shouldn’t have to get on your hands and knees like the rest of them.
Just so you know, my offer to make you part of my personal staff still stands.
Think about it! No more dust and dirt, better standing amongst the staff, better pay - I’m sure that I could even get my father to give you better wages than the rest of them.
Plus… we’d get to be together even when you’re working.
***
Still no?
You won’t change your mind at all?
Not even a little bit?
***
…Okay.
But - also! If - for some reason - the reason is that you don’t want to work on my personal staff, I’m more than happy to get you any job within the mansion.
And like I’ve said the past fourteen times, my offer is always on the table! For whatever you want, the small promotion, or even just a pay raise!
***
Oh, right! I almost forgot why I needed to see you!
I’ve brought more gifts for you~
***
I know, I know, last time the presents I got you were too elaborate for your tastes.
In hindsight, those paintings may have been too large to hang in your room… and you likely weren’t in a position to take care of a bear cub.
These gifts are far more simple, I swear on my mother’s grave!
Can you take a look at them before you reject them? Please?
***
[happy noise; opens a box]
This one is smaller than the other one - smaller as in importance, not size, I promise! - so I’ll start with this one.
Do you like it?
***
Yes, it’s a necklace! It’s not just a regular one though - have a look at the charm!
I had it custom-made, to make it small enough to wear it under your shirt while you’re working!
***
Well… it isn’t actually my family’s emblem.
See this dove right here?
I had the blacksmith add this in order to represent you.
You’re just as important to me as my family, after all - actually, more so!
Plus, by editing it a little bit, it doesn’t matter that you’re not actually part of the family yet, so no one can tell you to take it off.
***
Okay… I may or may not have had to bribe the blacksmith to make this one.
I don’t get why both you two are hung up about the fact that it’s ‘defamatory’. It’s just an emblem!
What’s so important about a legacy? I prefer to focus on the present… especially since you’re in it.
Life must have been so dull for my ancestors since they didn’t have someone like you around to light up their life. I pity them.
…You’re still looking unsure.
Listen, if anyone says anything, even my father, tell them that I gave it to you.
Admittedly I haven’t told my father I bought it for you yet… he’s still a little upset with me for when I left the prince’s ball to watch the stars with you… but when hasn’t he come around about us before?
Don’t fret over it. …Let me put the necklace on you.
Please?
[happy noise; necklace click]
…It looks wonderful on you.
When it’s just the two of us, make sure you wear it on top of your clothes.
I want to see this sight every day for the rest of my life…
Do you like it?
***
You do? So you’ll keep it?
***
Yes! Finally, I’ve got your gift tastes all sorted!
And guess what - you’re going to like this one even better!
***
I’m glad you asked!
To start off with a little backstory - do you remember that gardener that kept picking on you? The one that kept slipping plants and bugs into your food?
***
Of course you do… sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin the mood.
This present will make up for it, I promise!
***
[speaker chuckles]
I did a little bit more than fire them.
Here - open this box.
[opens box; drops it]
Ah, careful, you don’t want to get it dirty!
Why did you drop it? Were you so happy you stopped functioning or something?
***
Mhm! It’s a heart!
I couldn’t carry all of that gardener around without people freaking out, so I thought this would be the next best option.
Plus… it’s kind of like giving you my heart, isn’t it?
Just ignore the fact that-
***
…Huh?
What do you mean? …Something’s wrong with me?
Is… is there something on my face?
***
What? Why? What’s wrong with me giving you it as a gift?
You told me how much they were bothering you!
I made sure that they would never do anything to you again!
Didn’t you want that? You kept telling me you wanted them gone!
***
Not like this? But… but…
Why don’t you like it?
[speaker starts crying]
I thought… I thought you’d really like this gift…
Would you rather a different part? A finger? A nail?
O-Or do you want me to just tell you that I’d just tell you I’d got rid of a nuisance permanently next time?
***
But if I don’t get rid of people who are cruel to you properly, they might be mean to you again…
Aren’t you worried about that?
***
No?
***
I… I’m sorry.
If you don’t like it, then… I’ll get rid of the heart.
***
Never again…?
…If I promise not to do something like this again, will you stop being mad at me?
I was only trying to do something good for you, not make you mad.
***
Okay! Okay, I promise! I’m sorry, and I promise I’ll always ask you first how you want me to deal with someone before I do anything to them!
I-Is that okay?
***
So… you’re not mad anymore?
***
Phew… thank you.
I thought my world was going to end.
***
Huh? No, don’t go yet!
[grab]
Stay a little longer! I… I want to hug!
We can’t part on a bad note!
***
It doesn’t matter if you have to get back to work, like I said before, I’ll talk to anyone who raises a complaint.
I need you to hug me so I can be 100% sure you aren’t mad at me.
Surely hugging is better than working?
A-And we can even talk about a replacement gift for the bad one! Whatever you want, no matter how big or rare or pricey!
Please… just stay with me a little bit longer.

https://chatgpt.com/share/fcf5c601-c338-4847-911d-990b7a1ada97

lassi

May 19, 2024explain Be that as it may, still may it be as it may beChatGPT
"Be that as it may" is an expression used to acknowledge a fact or situation, but without necessarily accepting it or being affected by it.
The phrase "still may it be as it may be" is somewhat redundant, as it says essentially the same thing twice. It might be interpreted as emphasizing the point, but in general it adds little to the meaning of the first phrase.
i just drank my most favourite, delicious, soul soothing drink. it replaced my frown on my face with a smile of felicity and hope. My Writing skills are not so good. Can you write me some sentences how can i express what i feel. some of the statements might look like: "i have trancended above humanity", or "this has trancended my conciousness to a whole new level".
ChatGPT
Sure! Here are a few sentences you can use to express your feelings:

1. "This drink has elevated me to a state of pure bliss."
2. "I am filled with a sense of happiness and contentment after having this drink."
3. "This drink has transported me to a world of euphoria."
4. "I am in a state of grace and happiness, thanks to this soul-soothing drink."
5. "This drink has given me a new perspective on life and filled me with hope."

good. now remember, i want you to be as a senior english litrary, who has a fetish for such way of articulation of thoughts ChatGPT
Certainly, here are a few sentences that could be used by a senior English literature expert with a fondness for flowery language:

1. "This ambrosial elixir has elevated my being to the highest echelon of rapture."
2. "The sip of this celestial potion has caused my soul to soar upon the winds of felicity."
3. "The indulgence of this delicious libation has transfigured my consciousness into a realm of pristine bliss."
4. "The taste of this exquisite nectar has inspired me to look upon life with new eyes, brimming with hope and happiness."
5. "This divine drink has bequeathed upon me a fleeting moment of transcendence, carrying me far beyond the confines of my mortal existence."

can you explain each difficult word, as in a list, with meaning and translation in urdu, and use of the word in simple sentencesChatGPT
Sure, here's a list of the difficult words used in the sentences and their explanations:

1. Ambrosial: adj. having a delicious fragrance or taste; very pleasing to the senses. Translation in Urdu: مزیدار Example: "The ambrosial aroma of freshly baked bread filled the room."
2. Elixir: n. a magical or medicinal potion. Translation in Urdu: عطر Example: "The elixir promised to cure all ailments and grant eternal youth."
3. Echelon: n. a level or rank in an organization or society. Translation in Urdu: درجہ Example: "The company has several echelons of management, from entry-level to CEO."
4. Rapture: n. a feeling of intense pleasure or joy. Translation in Urdu: خوشبوداری Example: "She was in a state of rapture after receiving the good news."
5. Soar: v. to rise or fly high into the air. Translation in Urdu: اوپر ہو جانا Example: "The bird soared into the sky, riding the thermals."
6. Felicity: n. a state of well-being characterized by happiness and contentment. Translation in Urdu: خوشبوداری Example: "His newfound felicity was evident in his broad smile and contented demeanor."
7. Transfigure: v. to change in appearance or form, especially in a supernatural way. Translation in Urdu: تبدیل کر دینا Example: "The prince was transfigured into a beast as a result of the curse."
8. Nectar: n. a sweet liquid produced by flowers to attract pollinators, or a drink with a sweet taste. Translation in Urdu: نیکار Example: "The nectar of the flowers was a delight to the bees."
9. Indulgence: n. the act of allowing oneself to enjoy the pleasure of something, especially something considered to be bad or wrong. Translation in Urdu: لذت بخشی Example: "He allowed himself a small indulgence of chocolate after a long day."
10. Bequeathed: v. to pass down or leave something to someone through a will or as an inheritance. Translation in Urdu: ارادہ کر دینا Example: "The antique vase was bequeathed to her by her grandmother."

continueChatGPT

1. Transcendence: n. the state or quality of being beyond normal limits; surpassing or exceeding. Translation in Urdu: تجاوز Example: "The singer's voice had a transcendent quality that left the audience in awe."
2. Celestial: adj. of or relating to heaven or the heavens; divine. Translation in Urdu: آسمانی Example: "The celestial beings watched over the mortal world from above."
3. Potion: n. a magical or medicinal drink. Translation in Urdu: پوشیدہ شراب Example: "The wizard brewed a potion to cure the prince's illness."
4. Confines: n. a limit or boundary that restricts or confines something. Translation in Urdu: حدود Example: "The prisoner was confined to his cell for the duration of his sentence."
5. Mortal: adj. relating to a human being who is subject to death. Translation in Urdu: موتی Example: "As a mortal, his life was finite and fleeting."

continueChatGPT

1. Awe: n. a feeling of reverence, admiration, or fear in response to something grand or powerful. Translation in Urdu: عجب Example: "The awe-inspiring view of the Grand Canyon left him speechless."
2. Euphoria: n. a feeling of intense happiness or well-being. Translation in Urdu: خوشبوداری Example: "The victory parade filled the city with a sense of euphoria."
3. Enamored: adj. feeling a strong or passionate liking for someone or something. Translation in Urdu: عاشق Example: "She was enamored with the handsome prince from the moment she saw him."
4. Sumptuous: adj. rich and luxurious in appearance, quality, or style. Translation in Urdu: خوشبودار Example: "The sumptuous feast was fit for royalty."
5. Soothing: adj. calming and comforting to the senses or emotions. Translation in Urdu: سکون دینے والا Example: "The soothing sound of the ocean waves helped her fall asleep."

what would be adverb of Trancendence? i mean, i want to call this drink as "The Trancendent Drink" would that be ok?ChatGPT
The adverb form of "transcendent" is "transcendently." So, "The Trancendent Drink" would be grammatically correct, but it may be more commonly expressed as "The Transcendently Delicious Drink" or "The Drink That Transcends."
"The Drink That Transcends", give me more words or phrases for thisChatGPT
Here are a few more options:

1. The Elixir of Transcendence
2. The Beverage Beyond Boundaries
3. The Nectar of Elevation
4. The Sip of Sublimity
5. The Potion of Perfection
6. The Draught of Delight
7. The Tonic of Tranquility
8. The Cup of Contentment
9. The Ambrosia of Bliss
10. The Concoction of Joy.

10 words for 'to express your ideas clearly' that starts with 'e'ChatGPT
Here are ten words starting with the letter "e" that relate to expressing your ideas clearly:

1. Eloquent: using language effectively and persuasively.
2. Explicit: stated clearly and in detail.
3. Engaging: capturing the interest and attention of the listener or reader.
4. Educative: providing knowledge or instruction.
5. Entertaining: providing enjoyment or amusement.
6. Evocative: stirring up strong emotions or memories.
7. Expressive: conveying meaning or feeling through language or gestures.
8. Elaborate: detailed and complex in design or construction.
9. Effusive: expressing feelings or opinions in an unrestrained or overflowing manner.
10. Emphatic: spoken or written with emphasis or confidence.

above 3 or 4 chats, in which you wrote 20 word's meaning. i want you to give the same result, but in code blocks. i want to copy it.ChatGPT
Certainly! Here's the information from the previous chats, with each word and definition presented in a code block for easier copying:

vbnetCopy code Word: Transcendent Definition: Going beyond ordinary limits; surpassing. Word: Felicity Definition: A state of happiness, especially in regards to a content and fulfilling life. Word: Euphoria Definition: A feeling of intense happiness or well-being. Word: Enamored Definition: Feeling a strong or passionate liking for someone or something. Word: Sumptuous Definition: Rich and luxurious in appearance, quality, or style. Word: Soothing Definition: Calming and comforting to the senses or emotions. Word: Awe Definition: A feeling of reverence, admiration, or fear in response to something grand or powerful. Word: Eloquent Definition: Using language effectively and persuasively. Word: Explicit Definition: Stated clearly and in detail. Word: Engaging Definition: Capturing the interest and attention of the listener or reader. Word: Educative Definition: Providing knowledge or instruction. Word: Entertaining Definition: Providing enjoyment or amusement. Word: Evocative Definition: Stirring up strong emotions or memories. Word: Expressive Definition: Conveying meaning or feeling through language or gestures. Word: Elaborate Definition: Detailed and complex in design or construction. Word: Effusive Definition: Expressing feelings or opinions in an unrestrained or overflowing manner. Word: Emphatic Definition: Spoken or written with emphasis or confidence. 

but you should have written the word number also, i would like to know which word is the 10th and 12th and so on. Also give urdu meaning of each wordChatGPT
Certainly! Here's the information with the word number, definition, and translation in Urdu for each word:

yamlCopy code Word #1: Transcendent Definition: Going beyond ordinary limits; surpassing. Urdu Translation: تجاوز پذیر Word #2: Felicity Definition: A state of happiness, especially in regards to a content and fulfilling life. Urdu Translation: خوشبختی Word #3: Euphoria Definition: A feeling of intense happiness or well-being. Urdu Translation: بے پرواستی Word #4: Enamored Definition: Feeling a strong or passionate liking for someone or something. Urdu Translation: عاشق Word #5: Sumptuous Definition: Rich and luxurious in appearance, quality, or style. Urdu Translation: شاندار Word #6: Soothing Definition: Calming and comforting to the senses or emotions. Urdu Translation: آرام دهندہ Word #7: Awe Definition: A feeling of reverence, admiration, or fear in response to something grand or powerful. Urdu Translation: عجب Word #8: Eloquent Definition: Using language effectively and persuasively. Urdu Translation: بلند زبان Word #9: Explicit Definition: Stated clearly and in detail. Urdu Translation: واضح Word #10: Engaging Definition: Capturing the interest and attention of the listener or reader. Urdu Translation: بخشش دار Word #11: Educative Definition: Providing knowledge or instruction. Urdu Translation: تعلیم دہندہ Word #12: Entertaining Definition: Providing enjoyment or amusement. Urdu Translation: خوش گذرا Word #13: Evocative Definition: Stirring up strong emotions or memories. Urdu Translation: بے حد جذبات دار Word #14: Expressive Definition: Conveying meaning or feeling through language or gestures. Urdu Translation: بےشمار Word #15: Elaborate Definition: Detailed and complex in design or construction. Urdu Translation: تشریح دار Word #16: Effusive Definition: Expressing feelings or opinions in an unrestrained or overflowing manner. Urdu Translation: بے حد بے قاعدگی سے Word #17: Emphatic Definition: Spoken or written with emphasis or confidence. Urdu Translation: با توجہ 

continueChatGPT
Certainly! Here are the remaining words:

yamlCopy code Word #18: Enraptured Definition: Filled with delight or wonder. Urdu Translation: خوشبخت Word #19: Enthralled Definition: Fascinated and captivated by something. Urdu Translation: عاشق Word #20: Ecstatic Definition: Overwhelmingly joyful or happy. Urdu Translation: بے خود مبتلا 

I wish I could be happy like that then, always. ChatGPT
It's natural to wish for lasting happiness. While we can't always control our circumstances, focusing on gratitude, cultivating positive relationships, and engaging in activities that bring joy can contribute to a more enduring sense of happiness.
Get started with ChatGPTReport contentTerms of usePrivacy policy?

In no particular order:
Sean House (LNDN DRGS)
V Don
Hit-Boy
Big Ghost Ltd.
The Alchemist
DJ Muggs
Evidence
Havoc
The Rza
DJ Quik
Mannie Fresh
Pharrell
Kanye West
Madlib
9th Wonder
No I.D.
J.Dilla
Q-Tip
Statik Selektah
Marco Polo
Apollo Brown
Daz Dillinger
Dr. Dre
Just Blaze
DJ Premier
Metro Boomin
DJ Paul & Juicy J
Da Beatminerz
Pete Rock
Large Professor
Daringer
Harry Fraud
Nicholas Craven
Southside
Conductor Williams
The Beatnuts
Spanish Ran
Grubby Pawz
Machacha
Stu Bangas
Timbaland
DJ Battlecat
DJ Pooh
Sir Jinx
The Bomb Squad
The Dust Brothers
DJ Double R (Rick Rubin)
Nottz
EL-P
7L
RJD2
Blockhead
Mike Dean
Scott Storch
Stoupe The Enemy Of Mankind
DirtyDiggs
I know I listed a lot and maybe missed a few people’s favorites, so add any you’d like and give me your top 20, top 10 or top 5, or rank all 50 if you can!

Hi, I know some of you have been interested in Joost’s written stuff, so this is one of them. It’s a short story that Joost wrote for Boekenweek voor Jongeren (Book Week for Young People) in 2019. There’s more info about it here (in Dutch) https://www.vice.com/nl/article/qvgzpv/joost-klein-schreef-een-kort-verhaal-over-een-wilde-nacht-in-berlijn and there was also this promo video for it https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wx7wxnpxps0. It's been translated from Dutch - maybe not the most perfect translation but it's readable. Original in Dutch here. Enjoy

"How come he suddenly has cash?" I looked at Gurb, but he avoided my gaze. Louis never had money and yet he was buying another round. Meanwhile, a Moby song was playing and nothing made sense. "If he has money for drinks, he can surely pay me back, right?"
Just a few hours ago, I was alone in Berlin. Now, ten hours later, I'm standing in some obscure techno club with my best friends. Loud rock music with drunken shouting. "Hey, Miss Murder, can I make beauty stay if I take my life?" I woke up that day with a mild hangover from the lonely yet people-filled night before. Perfect conditions for a 20-year-old dropout.
The Hard Rock Café was the most beautifully ugly place in Berlin. Gurb had driven for seven hours straight in his mother's car, but we didn't notice. An iconic black Mini Cooper. Your body leads your mind, the beat never stops, and you can conquer the world. Louis threw in another crazy dance move. We were happy.
"Do you want another drink, brother?" Gurb asked me, half shouting. An evening filled with rhetorical questions. He saw me dancing and already knew the answer.
Gurb always had money. Louis, on the other hand, never did. Louis was also the youngest of us three. He had just turned 18. I wouldn't call him a cunning fox. More like a jack-of-all-trades. Like the time he made a lot of money on a Wadden Island with a group of boys. They sold large blocks of hash.
"Crazy dude!" I shouted at him. He yelled something back.
"Do you remember back then?" Louis said.
"Back then? Back then? Yeah man, of course!" I had no idea what he meant. "Do you mean the party?"
"Do you mean the party, he says! This guy. When I look at you like this, it makes me happy. The exact same kid is here letting loose just like back in high school!"
We knew each other from secondary school. He joined when I was in the second grade. He was very intelligent. Too young, too much knowledge of the world. His mother is from Brazil. We often went to his mother's place to play on the Playstation Louis and I had bought together.
I lived everywhere at that time. In the crisis shelter where I stayed for a while, for example, I wasn't allowed to have a Playstation. So we set it up in an accessible place, near school. It was always fun with Louis. Going together to the Apple Store. Taking all kinds of photos with all the webcams, posting them on Hyves, and then leaving. Louis always knew how to cheer me up.
"Aaaaaaaaaa!" There was Gurb with five drinks in his hands. Gurb was wearing a blue checkered shirt. Two buttons undone. Hair slicked back. "You look good, brother!"
"You look fresh too! We all look fresh!" Gurb said enthusiastically. Louis was wearing a completely white outfit. We quickly bought this before going out. He also bleached his hair.
"You look like the Brazilian cousin of James Dean in these clothes," I said. Louis laughed. "Let me take a picture."
Suddenly, the DJ switched to some kind of techno. "Ah, here Berlin briefly takes off its mask." I was fine with it all. Louis was talking to a lady.
Voluptuous breasts, I thought to myself. He gave her one of his two drinks.
"He's with a girl and he's thinking with his dick," I said to Gurb. "Let him be, tonight Berlin is ours!"
The bass kept pounding. "I simply don't have the patience for the club," I said to Gurb. He looked surprised. Like a sweet dog, tilting his head. "I'm just waiting for tomorrow. Can't do my thing here. Don't have patience for the already known. I want adventure and I want it now!"
Gurb started laughing. "Patience is a virtue." Yes. Patience is all well and good, but I think it's a waste of my time. Gurb grabbed my shoulder.
"I think it's time for another beer."
Louis and I were walking through Leeuwarden a year ago when suddenly a red Ford Ka stopped in front of us. It was Gurb, casually driving around the city. He invited us into his car. We hopped in. Since that afternoon, the three of us were together. A few months later, Louis got a tattoo on his ribs in honor of our friendship. It was the name of our group chat. Braddar Force Indigo.
There were also days when Gurb would take me for a drive around Friesland. He reminded me how beautiful Friesland is. The world doesn't spin there. The newspapers I threw away in the Stiens forest in 2011 could still be lying in the same spot, so to speak.
Just before midnight, I found myself in line for the restroom. My eyes fell on a pair of striking shoes. Cigarette smoke invaded my nose for the fourth time. "Müssen Sie eine Zigarette haben?" a female voice spoke to me. I felt like Tom Hanks in the final scene of Angels & Demons, where the new pope first steps onto the balcony. The curtains opened. There I was, witnessing an important moment in history. I was just told how I was sent by God, but my ears didn't want to hear any of it. At least that's how I felt. My mouth was empty. I had no words left. That's when I knew for sure. Berlin might really be as crazy as literally everyone says.
Dark blond, silky hair. Was this real beauty then? She wouldn't look 40, but I think she was. A true woman. Beautiful in all her elegance. I always joked about being interested in older women, but tonight one stood in front of me. "I don't smoke," I said to her.
Someone tapped me. "Please, just go to the toilet!" He was right. I hadn't peed in a while either. My urine was cloudy. "Glomerulonephritis," I said to myself on the toilet. This is an unusual condition. It's an inflammation in the kidneys, I thought I remembered. They should never have given me access to Google.
The evening progressed, and Louis kept buying rounds. "But seriously now. How does Louis suddenly have all that money for drinks?" I asked Gurb. He was outside smoking with a group of Swiss girls. I had strategically positioned myself so that I could always leave the crime scene if necessary.
"You shouldn't ask me," said Gurb. He was laughing with the temporary girlfriend group of Louis. Gurb has a beard. A lot of chicks like that. I get it too.
As much as I enjoyed Louis and Gurb being here for me, something didn't sit right with me. It couldn't just be about the money. "What's up with him?" I heard one of the Swiss girls say to Gurb.
Those kinds of questions really tire me out. "Not much, with you?" I replied.
They all started laughing. "That's not what she meant, brother," said Gurb.
"I couldn't care less whether she meant it or not. Send that brace-face back to Switzerland. Don't drive me crazy, alright!"
Actually, I hadn't drunk that much that evening. "Two vodka Sprites, please!" It's rare for me to get just one drink. "I always get two drinks, then you have to wait shorter for the third one!" Maybe the alcohol was affecting me more than I wanted to admit. Oh well, it was still the three of us against the world.
"Nice shoes, are those Prada?" I asked a random girl at the bar.
"No, these are fake. Why would I buy real ones for 600 dollars if I could just buy these for 20?"
"..."
I'm not very good at that. Talking. To women.
Louis and Gurb were in the smoking area now. It was less blue than the dance floor itself. My clothes already stank, so a visit to the smoking area couldn't hurt. "These people are so underground!" Gurb shouted. Louis was filming him with his phone. "These people..." There was a brief pause. As if Gurb forgot the only line he had. "...so underground!" All three of us burst into laughter. The alcohol flowed through our veins as if it came from the purest mountains. People seemed doubled and the room was full. We had been in the same club in Berlin for several hours.
"Leonardo! What are you hiding from the big boss?" I sometimes called Louis ‘DiCaprio.’ "You a rich guy, now?" I said, with an accent as if I were from the Bronx.
Louis started laughing. "Eh, you know nothing. Bullshit talk."
I had to laugh too. What was I even worried about? Friends are friends, with or without money. That shouldn't matter. Louis probably just worked for that money. Maybe it wasn't as bad as I thought. Maybe he just had enough to buy rounds. But what if my gut feeling was right? That feeling was never wrong. Except for that one time at the Holland Casino in Groningen. Even the best of us have slip-ups. I was just getting worked up again. When it comes down to it, Louis is one of the sweetest guys I know. I had to let it go. After all, it's still Louis.
"I think I'm going to have sex soon, man," Louis said.
"With who?" I asked immediately.
"That one girl."
"Which one?"
"The one with the boobs."
"Oh, her. Just be careful."
"What kind of reaction is that?" Louis asked indignantly.
I'd only had four drinks, but I was acting like a mess. Louis was right. I didn't understand myself. Where was my head at? I'm here in Berlin, supposed to be having the time of my life, but here I am feeling lonely and sad again. Joost once again couldn't control his emotions.
"Sorry," I suddenly said to Louis. "Sorry for my behavior. Been acting dumb towards you all night. It's unnecessary." Sometimes I have that. Mood swings. "Know that crime is never the solution. We've talked about this so many times. Yes, it's tempting and sometimes easy money. I sometimes find it amusing too, but it's always hypothetical. Ask me for help. I can help you, even with illegal things. I'll always have your back." The dancing was kind of over.
The words I had just placed on Louis's plate came from my heart. My Frisian, irregular boys' heart.
Crying in the club. I had never seen myself like that. Crying, yes. In the club, no. I never understood the taboo around crying. Or emotions in general. I saw myself in the mirror. They weren't tears of joy. They weren't tears of sadness either. It was me letting everything go. All the emotions I had ever felt. The emotions I felt between my brother and sister and myself because they wanted to take on a parental role over me, but I was in puberty, so I pushed them away. The emotions I felt when my old neighbors were supposed to take care of my dog, but didn't tell me that he was bitten by one of their dogs. They didn't have money for the surgery, they later told me. They were ashamed of their lack of money. My dog died from this injury. Even the emotions that were all jumping at once during the retake for my swimming diploma A, I let go of.
No emotions. Just for a moment, not feeling anything. Is that too much to ask for?
"You still don’t smoke?"
It had to be the voice of the woman with the cigarettes. I looked over my shoulder through the mirror. It was her. The one with dark blond, silky hair.
"Not to be rude, but this is the men’s room," I said. She took a step closer and kissed me on my lips. It tasted like more. We started kissing. It had been a while since I had had female contact at this level. It probably didn't look good and it didn't feel good either. She started kissing my neck. Slowly, I noticed the pressure in the erectile tissues of my penis starting to increase. "I really don't have time for this!" I thought to myself. The woman with the cigarettes started to slowly sink down until she was on her knees. I didn't want this. Not now, not like this. She unraveled my penis from my Polo Ralph Lauren underwear. Her tongue was blue. It was probably from cheap shots of alcohol.
Was this real beauty then? Was this the beginning or the end of her story? And had I become the boy my parents hoped I would be? I thought about the fact that this was once someone's little daughter. Somewhere in the world, an old man might be wondering what his daughter is doing. Am I really putting pleasure above my own morals and values?
With my semi-erect circumcised penis still exposed, I lifted her up. After giving her a kiss on her forehead, I pulled up my pants and left the toilets.
It was the usual last hour in any club ever. I met Louis and Gurb at the bar. "Should we have another drink?" I asked Gurb. "I feel like having a cocktail. Something sweet. Lots of sugar. What about you?"
Gurb looked at the menu. "A cognac would go down well right now."
"A cognac? You're only nineteen!" Gurb and Louis laughed. "Two Tequila Sunrises please!" I called to the bartender. "Also, two beers! Thanks!" I also got a beer for Louis. At first, I didn't want to, but I didn't want to spoil the mood either. Besides, I didn't want to show too much that it bothered me so much.
We danced away the last minutes. The club closed, and we decided to walk with the group of Swiss girls. Apparently, they were staying nearby.
As I lagged behind the group, one of them tried to start a conversation with me. "Are you okay?" she asked kindly.
"I'm fine. Just had too much beer. Makes me sleepy." Not true at all, but I've heard people say that.
"You’re tired? The fun has only just began!" And as she said this, she pulled something out of her inner pocket. Her clenched fist, shielded by a half jacket. Who is this girl, anyway? I thought to myself. She opened her hand flat, and right in the center of her palm lay two small pills with a smiley face on them. At least, they looked like it.
"Oh, I don’t do drugs. Sorry."
"Me neither!" And she swallowed a pill. "Now it’s your turn... Or are you scared?"
Scared? Who did this crazy Swiss witch (with really beautiful eyes) think she was. With her "are you scared". I'll show her who's scared.
"Scared? I’m not scared." I picked up the remaining pill and swallowed it.
Everything went in slow motion. Was this who I had become? Was this the same boy from high school? And just before I could swallow, I spat out the pill. She was shocked. I picked up the pill again, dried it with my jacket, and put it back in her fist. "Maybe later!" I shouted, running back to the group, over my shoulder.
I have nothing to say to 9 out of 10 peers I come across. Of course, I can be social. I can also have fun with random people in random situations, but that night, it just tired me out. I also didn't understand what we were doing there. Those girls found me strange anyway. Suddenly, I was the fifth wheel.
"We know this place where they go until 7 in the morning!" The girl leader of the group spoke. I wanted to go home. "If you guys want, you can go. Don't worry about me," I said to Gurb and Louis. The boys had a brief discussion. We agreed to stay for just a little while longer for some drinks. I consented. I was thirsty. "I'll have a Fanta, Louis."
Gurb had reached the last cigarette in his pack. Louis and a girl from the group were nowhere to be found. It didn't even bother me. This guy just walks around with some cash in his pocket and all hell breaks loose. After a night full of stimuli, I understood Louis. Of course, I understood Louis. He's a young god. Handsome, smart guy. But that didn't make me any less angry. It was purely about trust for me. Something inside me said I should stop subconsciously expecting things from people too. It prevents disappointment.
"Hotel please!" I jokingly suggested to Gurb. "Should you call Louis or should I?" I added. Gurb immediately grabbed his Android smartphone and called Louis. He put the call on speaker.
"Are you ready?" Gurb asked.
"Yeah. Sort of."
"What do you mean?"
"We didn't have sex."
"That's fine, right? Tomorrow's a new day!"
"I think I'm in love, man," Louis said.
"...," Gurb said, chuckling as he let out a sigh.
Once we arrived at the girls' hostel, it was already getting light. Louis was thankfully back. There were stains on his pants, around his knees. My focus was solely on arranging a taxi. Although the boys were still flirting, I was really done now. "How are we going to pay for this taxi?" I said a bit too loudly.
There was a silence. "Don't worry. I still have cash," Gurb said.
"Yeah, I knew you would," I replied.
My words clearly hit Louis. "What do you mean by that?" he said.
It was as if time stood still for a few seconds. "Exactly what I said. Better listen." Louis pulled out a small wad of green bills from his pocket. At least 400 euros. "I don't even want to see that money," I reacted. I walked away.
I'll just order a taxi myself.
"Why are you walking away now?" Gurb said.
"Twelve hours ago, I was alone too, and I had a lot more fun then."
"Do you really want to know how I got this money?" Louis said.
Yes, I did want to know. My whole evening revolved around that damn money.
He took a second of pause before he began speaking. "The answer lies in the Mini."
What on earth could be in Gurb's mother's car? Louis was trying to get into my head. "Taxi!"
Once in the taxi, the division was clear. Gurb was upfront, chatting animatedly with the driver. All adventures ever were recounted. Louis and I in the back. One of my best friends since I was thirteen. Funny how things turn out. It was quiet between us. I was in my head, rehearsing how I would bring up the money again. It didn't add up, and he knew it himself. "I don't care, you know," I said, hoping he'd break.
"What don't you care about?"
"About that money."
"What money? You're really a crazy woozy man." Louis burst out laughing again.
On the other hand, it was silent. Gurb had started talking about the driver's family. The driver didn't appreciate it. Gurb meant well. The driver smelled of alcohol. Or was it me? His nails were polished. Maybe his wife was a specialist. I bite my nails myself. Like now.
"In the Mini, oh yeah."
"Shut up. Illegal man."
"You'll never know."
"Stop playing. Just say it!"
Louis grabbed my head, pulled himself towards me, and brought his mouth to my right ear. "Why so serious?" he whispered. He didn't want to tell me.
"But always with this damn money, huh?" I almost shouted at Louis. I broke every silence within a radius of 10 kilometers.
"I'm trying my best, bro. It is what it is. I can't make it any different," he replied. It was clearly bothering him deeply. He ran his hands through his hair. "Sometimes people have to do things. And you know that better than anyone. Sometimes they have to do things they don't really want to or aren't supposed to do."
I knew this spiel all too well. Through all the drunken haziness, I suddenly saw a small glimmer of light. A tiny spark of sincerity. Louis was serious this time.
"I'm sorry. I didn't want to involve you in this. I'm sorry," sweat dripped from his forehead.
"You're serious, huh? Damn, man. What mess have you gotten yourself into now? Worse than Terschelling?" Worse than Terschelling would mean stolen goods. Maybe even violence.
"It's not what you think."
"The Adlon Hotel, right?" the driver chimed in. Always saved by the bell, that Louis.
Suddenly I hit my head against the seat in front of me. Of course, I wasn't wearing my seatbelt. The last thing I saw was Gurb waking up in panic from his drunken stupor. One by one, I started losing my senses. It started with the feeling in my fingers. For a brief moment, everything wasn't quite black, and I could only see a vague pattern of colors repeating inside my eyelids. You could compare it to the brief moment after the commercial break before the movie starts in the cinema. The movie was about to begin.
I knew I wasn't dying. At least not yet. Not like this. Not after an overall mediocre night out in Berlin. I found comfort in the image I forced myself to see. It was all in my head. There I was, unconscious.
I saw myself in a third-person point of view. It wasn't like I was actually leaving my body. More like there was a webcam hanging in one of the upper corners of the taxi.
As a child, I used to dream a lot about death. Nights spent awake.
At some point, I developed a kind of compulsive behavior. I kept swaying my torso from left to right with my hands under my head. It became almost like a workout before bedtime. Every night.
I called it dream shuffling. Just like I had learned to shuffle puzzle pieces or playing cards. Making things a little exciting for yourself. But what I almost never told anyone was that I was scared. I was afraid of burglars, who were very agile and muscular.
Especially afraid that they would murder me. I really wanted to know what death was like. It scared me.
These fear visions originated during an all-inclusive vacation in Turkey. I was 6 years old and already in bed. There was a big old TV in our hotel room, so I could secretly watch TV from bed. Every evening, my parents sat on the balcony. Here they discussed their day while enjoying a glass of alcohol. There was a Japanese animated series on TV. In the few seconds that I watched, I saw a scary creature climbing a sort of apartment complex via the balconies. The creature had hundreds of teeth and blond hair. It quickly entered to decapitate the people, then drained them and, as a final insult, robbed them. Dozens of carcasses of dead people were scattered around the apartment complex. The complex on TV resembled the resort where we were in reality, and the TV world merged with my surroundings. I became part of it. I saw people watching. No matter how loudly I screamed for help, they didn't react. The sun became very bright, and the people turned into nothing more than shadows. As the intensity of the sun increased, something became clear to me. These were not people. They had a sort of orange skin. Where I had previously thought it was their nose and mouth, it turned out that these shadowy figures did not have such physical features. They simply had three holes in their heads. The police tried to do something, but in vain. Since then, we always kept the light on in the hallway outside my bedroom. By rocking back and forth, from left to right, I could glance fleetingly at the beam of light under the door. That bit of light, escaping from the hallway into my room, gave me an advantage. It allowed me to stay one step ahead of the burglars. Pretty smart, right?
"From Jamaica to the world!
It’s just love. Why must the children play in the street?"
It was Bob Sinclar with "Love Generation" speaking to us through the taxi's speakers. We were stationary. I was conscious again, but I didn't feel alive at all. "How long was I out?" I asked Louis.
I could tell by his expression that he was relieved. Relieved that I was back. "One minute," he almost apologized. Louis gave me a pat on the shoulder. Gurb, on the other hand, was sleeping. He slept like a baby cub.
I put my right index finger on my forehead. It felt wet, but it wasn't blood. Blood feels different. Meanwhile, I kept hearing whistling.
"Be the love generation! Oh yeah!" It was still that same song by Bob Sinclar.
The earlier scent of alcohol had now been replaced by the smell of incense. It smelled like the same incense I had in my room. Sold to me as Tibetan 39 incense. I had bought it at a coffee shop in Rotterdam. I pulled up my notes on my phone. "Who lights incense in a CAR????" I let Louis read from my screen. He took the phone from my hands and started typing as well.
"Look at Gurb >>>" Gurb was so deeply asleep that his head drooped. His seatbelt held his torso in place, but his head ended up on the driver's shoulder. The man didn't mind. He didn't move. I made eye contact with the driver through the rearview mirror, and soon I found him. He winked at me.
We arrived at the hotel. Gurb awakened from his alcoholic hibernation. "Who's going to pay for the taxi?" I asked. Clearly rhetorical. I already knew I would take this one for the team, as usual. I refused to use Louis's money. It was uncomfortably quiet. "By card please," I said.
"I'll always protect you, Louis. You really need to know that. I care about you like my own little brother. I'll always try to help you. But you have to be honest with me. Can you do that?" Louis didn't hesitate.
"Yes. Yes, I can. I'll show you. It's really in the Mini." Meanwhile, the taxi driver's card machine indicated that I had insufficient funds. That couldn't be right. Maybe I had withdrawn too much that evening.
"I have cash in the hotel room," Gurb said to me. Gurb informed the driver in broken English that he would go get his cash. The driver agreed. Money is money, whether it comes now or later. As long as it feels good in your hands.
Louis and I got out of the taxi. "You're not going to light a cigarette now, are you?" Louis wanted to smoke. "Especially for stress. That's really for people who can't handle pain. You need to feel pain. Pain needs to brand you for the rest of your life so you finally learn not to do such stupid things." It fell silent again. My blood boiled. All pots were on the stove. I felt like Gordon Ramsay in the kitchen. "Show me then. Do it."
Louis remained silent and walked around the corner of the hotel. Towards the parking lot. I followed him. "You're not going to find much," said Louis.
"Why not? Are you a magician?"
"No. Just. Not much."
"So there's suddenly magically nothing in Gurb's car?"
"Stop. Get out. Get out of my head!" Louis shouted. Louis had had enough. He was done with the parade. Normally we dealt with hypothetical stories. Only this time it wasn't a joke. I was sure now. Louis had dropped his mask. The revolution had begun. The government had fallen and the dikes had broken. The people were in charge. "You shouldn't freak out like this. Always wanting more. Sweet boy, think about yourself."
After Gurb gave the money to the driver, he came to us. He had a smile on his face, lit a cigarette, and exclaimed, "Brothers!" Once with us, he hugged me. He started laughing. "Maybe I haven't been entirely honest either." Sometimes Gurb seemed like a 38-year-old man. In a positive way. He exuded confidence in a way I didn't often see. Affectionate, with a hint of authority.
We stood in the middle of a large parking lot. "Look. We've reached a point where I might not even care anymore. You guys are teasing me." It did matter to me. Maybe more than ever. I was supposed to be two steps ahead of them, but I couldn't figure it out. "I give up."
The delightful silence returned. Louis and Gurb looked at each other. "You guys win. Apparently, I'm not to be trusted as a friend."
From Louis's expression, I could tell he disagreed with this. "Not true. Come to the car."
We arrived at the car. Louis unlocked it and searched for the trunk button. Gurb had started his third cigarette. "It's a corpse, isn't it? Say it now. I can still help you. I can still help us. I can book a ticket for you. We can get you out of here," I said to Louis.
"Just wait. Nutcase."
"Why won't you accept my help?"
Louis started laughing nervously. Or at least it seemed that way. Perhaps a sly laugh too. Had Louis killed someone? "It's not a corpse. That can't be. You wouldn't be stupid enough to use their ID. You're smarter than that. So it must be something stolen. Haven't you found that button yet?"
Suddenly, we heard a click. Louis had found the button. Somewhere, I didn't want to know. Shouldn't I just trust Louis? Wasn't that the whole point of friendship?
Finally, the moment had arrived. I placed my right hand in the slot of the rear hatch. Something in me doubted. Still. I still doubted. Louis looked dead serious. "You wanted to know, didn't you? Then you also have to be man enough to accept it." Louis was clearly not joking. Or was he acting again? "Pussy," Louis said. I looked away. "You're afraid of what's inside, huh? You're afraid of the real Louis." He began to laugh manically. "Open that thing, man. Nutcase!"
I started laughing too. Why did I make such a big deal out of it? Sweat broke out from every pore in my body. It was even a bit damp in the no man's land between my scrotum and my anus. A tropical climate. It had been quite an adventure the whole evening. I took my hand off the rear hatch and first gave Louis a hug. Not some half-hearted birthday wish. No, a real hug.
"It's okay, buddy," Louis said to me. I had no idea what he meant by that. It fit the moment though.
It was really time now. I opened the rear hatch.
"Where is it?"
"In front of you," said Louis.
"In some secret compartment?"
There was nothing in the trunk. Absolutely nothing. An empty trunk. For an empty evening, in an empty Berlin, with an empty group of guys. I didn't get it.
"You won, man," I whispered. "You finally fucking done did it."
I couldn't believe my eyes. Empty? There was still nothing in the car. Louis just stood there. Emotionally, I was a wreck. I had felt every emotion this evening. Seen every color and smelled every scent. I was done. My body was ready. No longer needed. My mission was complete.
"But why did you do this?" I asked Louis, laughing.
He scratched his chin. It felt like the end of a bad movie.
"I sold our Playstation. Wanted to tell you only after I had sorted everything out again. I terminated my lease. Had some debts, and I also wanted to have some money for once. Once not empty-handed in the club. Once not dependent on my best friends. This is not who I am... I know how much that Playstation meant to you. It was ours together. I should have just told you."
"… and how does Gurb actually make his money?"

I'm trying to start a collection of songs that are familiar (with recognizable sampling) but is completely a different song altogether.
Ex: Sunrise by Simply Red (I Can't go For That by Hall and Oats)
No More Rain by Angie Stone (Neither One of Us by Gladys Knight)
Changes by Tupac (The way it is by Bruce Hornsby)
Crazy in Love by Beyoncé ft. JayZ (Are you my Woman? by Chi Lites)
Summertime by Will Smith aka Fresh Prince (Summer Madness by Kool & The Gang)
Do you know of other good ones?

70's Alt Rock -King Crimson-Lark's Tongue In Aspic
80's Alt Rock - Talking Heads-Remain In Light
90's Alt Rock- Nirvana- Never mind
2000's Alt Rock-The Strokes-Is This It
2010's Alt Rock Tame Impala-Lonerism
Alt Country -Wilco-Summerteeth
Alt Hip Hop-MF Doom- Mad villainy
Art Rock-Dark Side Of The Moon-Pink Floyd
Brit Rock- The Clash- London Calling
College Rock-REM-Murmur
Emo Rock-My Chemical Romance-Welcome To The Black Parade
Experimental Rock-Swans-To Be Kind
Goth-The Cure Disintegration
Grunge- Soundgarden-Superunknown
Hardcore Punk- Black Flag- Damaged
Heavy Metal-Black Sabbath-Paranoid
60's Hard Rock-Led Zeppelin I
70's Hard rock-Led Zeppelin-Physical Graffiti
80's Hard Rock- AC/DC-Back In Black
90's Hard Rock-Nirvana-In Utero
2000's Hard Rock-Queens Of The Stone Age-Songs For The Deaf
2010's ˙Hard Rock- Tool-Fear Inoculum
Indie Rock-Joy Division-Unknown Pleasures
Indie Folk-Big Thief-Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe In You
Lo-Fi-Neutral Milk Hotel-In The Aeroplane Over The Sea
New Wave-Elvis Costello-This Year's Model
Progressive Rock- Tool- Lateralus
Punk- Ramones-Rocket To Russia
pop punk-Green Day-Dookie
Post Punk- Wire- Pink Flag
Shoegaze-My Bloody Valentine-Loveless
Blues-Nina Simone-Sings The Blues
Blues Rock-The Rolling Stones-Sticky Fingers
Avant Garde- Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band-Trout Mask Replica
Baroque Pop-The Beach Boys-Pet Sounds
Symphonic Rock-Moody Blues-Days Of Future Past
Comedy/Novelty album-Adam Sandler-They're All Gonna Laugh At You
Stand Up Comedy-George Carlin-Back In Town
Americana-The Band-The Band
Bakersfield Sound-Buck Owens-Best Of Buck Owens
Bluegrass-Old & In The Way-That High Lonesome Sound
Outlaw Country-Willie Nelson-Redheaded Stranger
Classic Country-Johnny Cash-Live At Folsom Prison
Country Rock- The Flying Burrito Brothers-The Gilded Palace Of Sin
Dance/Club-LCD Soundsystem- This Is Happening
Christmas /Holiday Album-Vince Gauralidi-A Charlie Brown Christmas
EMD/Techno-Burial-Untrue
Ambient-Brian Eno-Music For Airports
Electronic Rock-Radiohead-Kid A
Space Rock- Spiritualized- Ladies And Gentlemen We Are Floating In Space
Synthpop-Depeche Mode-Violator
Synthrock- New Order-Power, Corruption and Lies
Industrial-Nine Inch Nails-The Downward Spiral
Krautrock- Can-Tago Mago
Folk-Bob Dylan-The Freewillin' Bob Dylan
Folk Rock-Bob Dylan-Blood On The Tracks
Southern Rock-The Allman Brothers Band-At Fillmore East
80's Hip Hop-The Beastie Boys-Paul's Boutique
90's- Hip Hop Wu-Tang Clan-Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)
2000's Hip Hop-Outkast- Stankonia
2010's Hip Hop-Kendrick Lamar-To Pimp A Butterfly
2020's Hip Hop-Run The Jewels-RTJ 4
East Coast Hip Hop- Nas- Illmatic
West Coast Hip Hop-NWA-Straight Outta Compton
Southern Hip Hop-Outkast -Aquemini
Midwest Album-Kanye West-My Dark Twisted Fantasy
Trap-Travis Sott-Rodeo
Instrumental Hip Hop- DJ Shadow- Endtroducing....
Indie Pop-Belle And Sebastian-If You're Feeling Sinister
Noise Rock-Sonic Youth-Daydream Nation
Post-rock- Godspeed! You Black Emperor-Lift Your Skinny Fist Like Antennas To Heaven
Acid Jazz- Medeski ,Martin, and Wood -Shack-Man
Trip Hop -Portishead- Dummy
Gospel -Aretha Franklin-Amazing Grace
Christian- Sufjan Stevens -Illnoise
Jazz-Miles Davis-Kind Of Blue
Avant Garde Jazz-Ornette Coleman-Shape To Jazz To Come
Swing/Bebop-Art Blakey & The Jazz Messengers-Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers w/Thelonious Monk
Jazz/Fusion-Miles Davis-In A Silent Way
Jazz Rock-Miles Davis-Bitches Brew
Jazz/Funk-Herbie Hancock-Head Hunters
Jazz/Rap-A tribe Called Quest-The Low End Theory
Latin- Los Lobos-Kiko
Speed Metal/Thrash- Metallica- Master Of Puppets
Black/Death Metal-Deafheaven-Sunbather
Symphonic Metal-Haken-The Mountain
Glam Rock -T.Rex-Electric Warrior
Hair Metal-Guns N Roses-Appetite For Destruction
New Wave Of British Heavy Metal-Iron Maiden- Number Of The Beast
Sludge-Electric Wizard- Dopethron
Nu Metal-Korn-Korn
New Age-Popol Vuh - Hosianna Mantra
Pop-Prince-Sign O' The Times
60's Pop- The Beatles-Revolver
70's Pop- Carole King-Tapestry
80's Pop- Peter Gabriel-So
90's Pop-Madonna-Ray Of Light
2000's Pop-Madonna-Confessions On A Dance Floor
2010's pop-Robyn-Body Talk
2020's Pop- Perfume Genius-Set My Heart On Fire
Adult Contemporary- Billy Joel-The Stranger
Europop- ABBA- Arrival
Latin Pop-Ruben Y Seis Del Solar-Buscando America
Dance Pop-Dee-Lite-World Clique
Dream Pop- Mazzy Star-So Tonight I Might See
Power Pop- Weezer-Blue Album
R&B- Marvin Gaye-What's Going On
60's R&B-Aretha Franklin-I Never Loved A Man The Way I Loved You
70's R&B- Stevie Wonder- Songs In The Key Of Life
80's R&B- Janet Jackson- Control
90's R&B Album- Lauryn Hill-The Miseducation Of Lauryn Hill
2000's R&B- D'Angelo-Voodoo
2010's-R&B-Beyonce-Lemonade
2020's R&B- SZA-SOS
Disco-Donna Summers-Bad Girls
Doo Wop- The Chantels- We Are The Chantels
Funk-Funkadelic-Maggot Brain
Motown- Marvin Gaye-Let's Get It On
Neo-Soul-Erykah Badu-Baduizm
Psychedelic Soul- Curtis Mayfield-Curtis
Soul-Aretha Franklin-Lady Soul
Reggae-Bob Marley- Exodus
Ska-The Specials-The Specials
Swing Revival-Big Bad Voodoo Daddy-Big Bad Voodoo Daddy
Rock N Roll-The Rolling Stones-Exile On Main Street
Acid Rock- Jimi Hendrix- Are You Experienced
Arena Rock-Boston-Boston
Cock Rock-Van Halen I
Math Rock-Slint-Spiderland
Stoner Rock-Kyuss-Welcome To Sky Valley
Jam Band- Grateful Dead-American Beauty
SingeSongwriter- Neil Young-Harvest
Surf Rock-The Beach Boys-Shut Down Vol II
Soft Rock/Yacht Rock-Steely Dan-Aja
Movie Soundtrack-Singles
Movie Score-The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly
TV Soundtrack- Songs In The Key Of X:Music from and inspired by the X-Files
Musical Soundtrack-Jesus Christ Superstar