#r. rotten apple; big soul

[kylo-wrecked]

@brooklynislandgirl sent :// [ appletini ] Elbows on the scrap of table between them. Arms framing her modest decolletage and perhaps giving a hint of the black lace hidden beneath. "Who you considah mos' important person in ya life, an' why?" Her teeth snap delicately onto the glittery red acrylic swizzle stick from her drink, a gesture that he's free to consider an invitation or a threat as makes him happiest. {Music!Ben}

{ from this meme }

—☾—

Modest or meager looks have little bearing on Ben's locus of attraction. The flesh is not queen to his Libra ascendant; it's not the moon and stars of his loins. Sexiness is energy. Lucid or elusive. One could only be possessed or dispossessed of it, like chastity. Humility, temperance. The cardinal virtues he doesn’t have. But it helps that Beth's beautiful.

Threats don’t work on him, either. If his gaze drifts toward Beth's mouth, it's because he perceives all portents as invitations. And inevitably, it drifts.

"My mom," he admits over the lip of a glass. Watching. Shrugs. "She's killer. She ran the Central Wetyin music scene. Seattle, with Calrissian. Plus, she's the only person who loves me, so I love her the most."

Ben wears a look of kittenish affection. It isn't easy to measure how much of his posture is counterfeit. His eyes aren't so shy when they cut across Beth's neckline, slicing from one olive shoulder to the other, leaving no part of her unscathed.

Who knows what he might have said if they hadn't been interrupted.

The usual rattle of blow is absent, but he still flashes a vicious, vacant smile when their server asks them how the drinks are. Tonight, Ben's eyes seem to dull as soon as anyone else horns into Beth's corner. His vibe quickly becomes, ‘Go away.' His color, 'Scram.' His scent, 'Get fucked.' His face hardens into a mask. He sucks his inner lip through his teeth like he's trying to keep himself from sharing someone else's death-bed secret, wringing the cuff of a houndstooth sleeve, shoulders hunching inward. The hand gripping his cocktail going rigor mortis.

"Now you, Riley," Ben croons once the server leaves. His face changes again, his gaze turning honey-warm for Beth. His posture changes, too. Most of his weight lolls forward, pointing at her like a lazy arrow, and the tips of his devil's shoes nudge her heels.

"You're gonna answer your question for me this time."

He grins sublimely, his eyes lifted by feline delight, candlelight catching the whites of his teeth until the glass eclipses them.

#brooklynislandgirl #m .au | music!ben: nowhere man #r. rotten apple; big soul #tw: drug mention #queue de la k

[xtruss]

The Notorious Pirate King Who Vanished With the Riches of a Mughal Treasure Ship

In the late 17th century, Henry Avery—the subject of the first global manhunt—bribed his way into the Bahamas

— Sean Kingsley and Rex Cowan | April 2, 2024

Some said the pirate king went to ground in London or Scotland, others that he died penniless and was buried in an unmarked grave in Devon. Or was he sipping fine French wine in the hills above Marseille? Public domain via Wikimedia Commons

Henry Avery stealthily steered past Hog Island. In the English-controlled waters of the Bahamas, his crew was under strict orders to call him Captain Henry Bridgeman. The Fancy’s gold, silver and diamonds, plundered off the coast of India from a Mughal emperor’s treasure ship, the Gunsway (or Ganj-i Sawa’i), were tucked away under false floorboards in Avery’s cabin.

Palm trees bowed toward the battered ship and the newly nicknamed pirate king. Sea oats shimmered in the early morning breeze. With blue skies and light winds, it was going to be a beautiful day. The final leg into Nassau’s calm harbor was tricky. It took a skillful old hand to squeeze through the narrow channel. On either side, shifting sandbars waited to chew up and spit out wayward traders, nationality be damned. One false move, and all the months of jeopardy would be for nothing.

It was April 1, 1696—a day to make fools of the smartest of men. Luckily, Avery knew all about the island of New Providence. He understood what made the darkest of souls tick and was skilled at turning any man to his way of thinking.

New Providence was the perfect place to make landfall. It straddled the ancient sea lanes between the Province of Carolina and Jamaica (both British colonies) and the Caribbean Sea to the south. Havana was just a three days’ hop away. From Nassau, would-be pirates could watch the panorama of New World trade gliding by.

At 28 miles long and 11 miles wide, New Providence, the heart of the islands of the Bahamas, was big enough to lay low. Best of all, it had a reputation for aiding and abetting villains. The pirate mantra “Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies” could have been invented for this dodgy outback.

Avery knew the bad folk of New Providence were as rotten as a shipwrecked barrel of apples. In fact, he was banking on it. The Bahamas’ motley mob included experts in fishing wrecks sunk along the Florida coast, locals who rushed to salvage Spanish, British, Dutch and French valuables lost to hurricanes and storms. It was easy and generous work that beat breaking one’s back tilling the hateful earth.

A view of New Providence today. Sean Kingsley

The New Providence of 1696 was a long way from becoming the world’s wickedest Republic of Pirates, its chaotic lanes home to such notorious figures as Benjamin Hornigold, Blackbeard, Calico Jack Rackham, Charles Vane, Mary Read and Anne Bonny. By the fall of 1717, as many as 800 pirates would rendezvous in New Providence to divide spoils, fence looted cargo and party away their ill-gotten gains. At times, the lair swelled to a thousand cutthroats, commanded by a changing “who’s who” of crazed leaders. Brawn and brains were respected, but strength always won control. All pirate captains understood that on these shores, the “strongest man carries the day.”

Avery had a knack for reading places and people like others read books. As an ex-Royal Navy sailor who became the skipper of the meanest pirate ship on the high seas, he needed to decide in a blink of an eye who he could trust and what gossip peddled in some mosquito-infested East African tavern was hogwash. His gut rarely let him down.

Peering through his eyepiece, Long Ben—as Avery’s crew called him on deck—made out a few dozen makeshift huts inland of the trees screening the coast. He spied what was little more than a shantytown on the make. Locals were gathering salt to hawk to passing cod-fishing traders from Newfoundland and New England, who used it to stop shipboard meat from rotting too quickly. The New Providence of 1700, with 160 houses and a church, was still a few years away. Up the slope, piles of masonry were being cut and plastered into foundation trenches to build the town’s desperately needed Fort Nassau, paid for by port customs’ profits. Equipped with 28 cannons, its gates would only open in February 1697.

Aurangzeb sits on a golden throne while holding a hawk. Public domain via Wikimedia Commons

Avery, the man who put the world’s economy on a knife-edge by plundering the flagship of Aurangzeb of India, possibly the richest person in the world, drew deeply on a pipe filled with Virginia’s finest tobacco. The gray smoke billowed into the charred rafters of the Wheel of Fortune inn and out the chimney stack to freedom. Avery was thinking about liberty, too. The hard knocks of family life as a child, and betrayal by the Royal Navy, had shattered any dreams Avery once cherished. These days, he was a cold-blooded hyper-realist.

Avery had just become the first pirate commander to chase down a Mughal emperor’s treasure ship. Overnight, he and his crew were millionaires, celebrities, notorious. The pirate would enjoy the moment before deciding his fate. There was much to be said for staying in the Americas—the laid-back lifestyle, the tropical mood, the sun on your back standing next to the tiller.

But he viewed the people as vermin. And the culture. What culture? Avery had rolled out his deadly plans with all the guile and strategic know-how that his navy training had taught him. His scheming wasn’t over yet. Ever since he’d stripped the stricken Gunsway off the coast of Surat, Avery had been thinking about payback: to the family of his old governor who cheated him out of his fortune, to his country for betraying his men in A Coruña, Spain, and pushing him to mutiny.

An 18th-century illustration of Henry Avery. Public domain via the Internet Archive

Avery wondered how much power a man with a fortune like his could buy. To him, power meant returning home to England, the land of his fathers, and Bideford in Devon, a town thick with bittersweet memories. Yet again, he would prove the world wrong.

The nectar of the pirate’s sweet tobacco was a welcome respite from the anarchy of New Providence. The town had no proper governing body and little order. Human waste and garbage choked the alleys. Outside the tavern window, Avery saw the bones of repairs, abandoned hulls and burned-out prizes littering the shores. The island’s wide, open beaches were perfect for careening hulls, beaching ships and listing them to one side to scrape off the foul barnacles and shipworms that infest the tropical Caribbean.

Avery sipped his glass of wine. His plan had gone just how he’d hoped. On paper, Nicholas Trott, governor of New Providence, was an upstanding pillar of the community. Avery knew better. He had gained intelligence about the top dog’s true nature.

Trott liked to frog-march around the harbor with his crisp leather ledger tucked under his arm, all-important. But make no bones about it: Avery knew that the governor was a snake in the grass without a shred of experience serving king and country. As Richard Coote, the powerful First Earl of Bellomont and the governor of Massachusetts Bay, warned London in 1699, Trott was “the greatest pirate-broker that ever was in America.”

An 18th-century depiction of Avery, with the Fancy shown in the background. Public domain via Wikimedia Commons

The king of the pirates would play nice, try diplomacy. If that failed, he would have no qualms strangling Trott’s neck until his eyes popped out.

To Avery, dropping into Nassau and dealing with Trott held no big risk of being slung into a dungeon for piracy. Trott was no gamble. Here was a man who could be bought, greedy to top up his demeaning £30 annual salary. Money meant power. Power meant status. The question was: What was Trott’s price?

To be sure his reckoning was sound, that morning Avery had moored the Fancy off the island’s coast and sent three of his men to New Providence with a personal note for the governor. Avery, in the guise of Bridgeman, pretended his ship was a slaver bending the rules as so many did, trafficking enslaved Africans and elephant tusks without the seal of approval from the Royal African Company, which owned the British crown’s monopoly over the trade.

The Fancy’s tall tale claimed the crew needed permission to take on provisions before going straight. Avery sent a purse stuffed with pieces of eight to make sure the governor got the point. In return for the courtesy of letting him land, Trott could expect a tip of 20 silver pieces of eight and 2 pieces of gold from each crew member. Avery would pay double as captain.

Trott’s fawning reply played the innocent to perfection. With a nudge and a wink, he embraced Avery’s crew as “soldiers of fortune” who “had done no Christian nation any damage and were the king’s subjects.” Trott sent the trio back to the Fancy, weighed down with a cask of wine, a hogshead of beer and a cask of sugar, as well as permission for Avery to land at his leisure.

A proclamation for Avery's apprehension. Public domain via Wikimedia Commons

Avery knew full well that the clincher for Trott would be the offer of the added tip of the Fancy, with its 46 guns and 100 barrels of gunpowder. French forces had recently seized the island of Exuma, 140 miles away. Rumor had it they were heading for Nassau with three warships and 320 men. Fear filled the air. Nassau had no men-of-war ships, and Trott’s stone fort was still a building site. But with dozens of guns lining the shore, the French would think twice about raping and pillaging.

By the time Trott grounded the Fancy on Hog Island and started stripping its bones bare, he had raked in a small fortune. The strong man was rich and had hardly needed to lift a finger.

As the weeks unfolded, however, only one winner emerged. Avery’s crew scattered. The pirates were spotted openly walking the streets of Philadelphia, thick as thieves with judges and sheriffs, the Gunsway’s riches buying influence and power. Others preferred spending their loot in New York, Connecticut and New Jersey. A few of the crew stayed local. Two men settled in Bermuda. Some seven of Avery’s crew married in New Providence and bribed Trott to sign royal pardons. Most of the pirates went straight.

All the while, the rumor mill churned alarmingly. The wrecking ball of Avery’s recent past was catching up with him. East India Company agents were seeking the pirate king in Bombay and Calcutta. The Royal Navy was thinking about dispatching battleships to hunt for the Fancy in the waters between West Africa, Madagascar and Arabia. Bounty hunters crisscrossed the world from the Indian Ocean to the English Channel. Avery was the most wanted man in the world. The world’s first global manhunt was underway.

As the number of guns for hire searching for the pirate grew, proclamations for his apprehension flew from port to port. The legend of Avery the pirate king echoed through the world’s taverns, smoky coffee shops and fashionable ladies’ salons. Avery had shown the world how to unpick the richest treasure box on earth and revealed the wealth waiting to be stolen from heathens’ pockets.

A 19th-century illustration of Captain William Kidd. Public domain via Wikimedia Commons

Every pirate wanted to match Avery’s strike. The golden age of piracy had begun. Men of fortune flooded the Red Sea and the Indian Ocean. Captain William Kidd, the Scottish privateer sent on a mission in September 1696 to hunt down and destroy pirates, instead joined the free-for-all by seizing the Quedagh Merchant. Four years later, Kidd ended up dangling from the end of a rope at London’s Execution Dock.

Avery, for his part, wanted to keep his precious head on his neck. So far, his plan had worked like a dream. Trott was eating out of the palm of his hand. Avery was now the strongest man in Nassau.

The burning question in need of an urgent resolution was how to slip through the closing net. Should the pirate king hide out in the Caribbean or head to England for payback? Should he live a life of luxury in the West Indies or risk it all and be damned for retribution on far more dangerous British soil?

Within a few months of his arrival in the Bahamas, Avery was back on the waves. He was seen landing in Ireland in June 1696. That November, five of his crew members were hanged in England. But Avery himself escaped punishment. Some said the pirate king went to ground in London or Scotland, others that he died penniless and was buried in an unmarked grave in Devon. Or was he sipping fine French wine in the hills above Marseille?

Most ballads and books were convinced that Avery vanished in Madagascar, home to a supposed utopian pirate colony called Libertatia. But one fact was certain: When the Lords Justices of England offered the “assurance of our most gracious pardon” to all pirates in December 1698, only Kidd and Avery were excluded by name. The pirate king was still wanted, dead or alive.

#Smithsonian Mag #History #Notorious Pirate King #Mughal Treasure | Ship 🚢 #Henry Avery #Bahamas 🇧🇸 #Sean Kingsley | Rex Cowan

[upalldown]

Summary ‘22

the banana prize: Wet Leg – Wet Leg (grand prize)

the apple prize: Big Thief – Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe In You

the orange prize: Fontaines D.C. – Skinty Fia

the grape prize: Kendrick Lamar – Mr. Morale & the Big Steppers

the pineapple prize: Black Country, New Road – Ants From Up There

the watermelon prize: Mitski – Laurel Hell

the strawberry prize: Beyoncé – Renaissance

the peach prize: Taylor Swift – Midnights

the green leaf prize: Angel Olsen – Big Time

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the rotten tomato prize: Bret McKenzie – Songs Without Jokes

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the best album released by a veteran musician/band: Spiritualized – Everything Was Beautiful

the best debut album: Wet Leg – Wet Leg

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the best LGBTI album (lyrics): Shamir – Heterosexuality

the best queer album (sound): Sampa The Great – As Above, So Below

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the best Mercury Prize nominated album (acc. To me): Wet Leg – Wet Leg

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the best US record: Big Thief – Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe In You

the best UK & Irish record: Wet Leg – Wet Leg

the best Canadian record: Arcade Fire – WE

the best Australian & New Zealand record: Julia Jacklin – Pre Pleasure

the best European record (except the UK & Ireland): Björk - Fossora

the best Latin American record: --

the best African record: Sampa The Great – As Above, So Below

the best Middle Eastern record: --

the best Far East record: Rina Sawayama – Hold The Girl

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best records by genres

ambient: Brian Eno - FOREVERANDEVERNOMORE

americana: Hurray For The Riff Raff – Life On Earth

art rock: Alt-J – The Dream

avant-garde: --

bluegrass: --

blues: --

country: Angel Olsen – Big Time

country/rock: Wilco – Cruel Country

alt. country: Lambchop – The Bible

dance: Hot Chip – Freakout/Release

disco: Beyoncé - Renaissance

dub: --

dubstep: --

electro: Charli XCX - Crash

electro-pop: Phoebe Green – Lucky Me

electronic: Aurora – The Gods We Can Touch

electronica: --

experimental: Black Midi – Hellfire

folk: Weyes Blood – And In The Darkness, Hearts Aglow

folk-rock: Cate Le Bon – Pompeii

folk/pop: Sharon Van Etten – We’ve Been Going About This All Wrong

alt. folk: Aldous Harding – Warm Chris

funk: Ibibio Sound Machine – Electricity

garage: --

grime: Stormzy – This Is What I Mean

grunge: --

hardcore: --

hip hop: Danger Mouse & Black Thought – Cheat Codes

house: --

indie pop: Soccer Mommy – Sometimes, Forever

indie rock: Wet Leg – Wet Leg

indie/folk: Big Thief – Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe In You

jazz: Ezra Collective – Where I’m Meant To Be

lo-fi: Alex G – God Save The Animals

metal: --

noise-rock: Just Mustard – Heart Under

pop: Beach House – Once Twice Melody

pop-punk: PUP – The Unraveling Of Puptheband

pop/rock: Tears For Fears – The Tipping Point

alt-pop: Julia Jacklin – Pre Pleasure

post-punk: Fontaines D.C. – Skinty Fia

post-rock: Black Country, New Road – Ants From Up There

prog: --

psych-rock: --

psychedelia: --

psychedelic: --

punk: The Linda Lindas – Growing Up

r&b: The Weeknd – Dawn FM

rap: Kendrick Lamar – Mr. Morale & the Big Steppers

reggae: --

rock: Spiritualized – Everything Was Beautiful

alt. rock: Suede – Autofiction

shoegaze: --

singer-songwriter: Taylor Swift – Midnights

soul: Bruce Springsteen – Only The Strong Survive

synthpop: Hot Chip – Freakout/Release

techno: Daniel Avery – Ultra Truth

trip hop: FKA Twigs - CAPRISONGS

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the best debut albums of the year

Wet Leg – Wet Leg

The Smile – A Light For Attracting Attention

Yard Act – The Overload

Jockstrap – I Love You Jennifer B

Horsegirl – Versions of Modern Performance

The Linda Lindas – Growing Up

Daniel Rossen – You Belong There

Plains – I Walked With You A Ways

Skullcrusher – Quiet the Room

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the worst albums of the year (the worst albums that succeeded to be in the database - the bad of the good)

Bret McKenzie – Songs Without Jokes

Babeheaven – Sink Into Me

Editors – EBM

HAAi – Baby, We’re Ascending

Buzzard, Buzzard, Buzzard – Backhand Deals

Grace Cummings – Storm Queen

UpAlldown - the key for good music

AC Öncel

[hellohollydolly]

20 Things To Love About Our Albert Lea Community

im·prove·ment / noun.  The action of improving or being improved.

1. We try hard, & we are persistent a bunch. We had the old Wal-Mart sit vacant for just a “few” years. Many whispers of new tenants floated around over time, & then one fine day last year, a 12 year lease was signed to Bomgaars. Thanks to efforts of Hoffman, ALEDA & I’m certain many other small & large working parts, shit got done, together. 2. The movement isn’t like wild fire, it’s more methodical. Wind Down Wednesday came to life about 5 years ago. Since then, it has grown & become a Summer event that’s marked on everyone’s calendar. It has spurred other events downtown, & continues to thrive. By hands, brains, time, & work of Albert Leans. Tami, Susie & everyone on deck thru the years, continue to break their backs on events like WDW because seeing Albert Lea thrive fills their hearts. When you really care, you take an active role.

3. Our restaurants are only as successful as their patrons make them, & we’ve got some awesome ones. Places like B&B, The Elbow Room, Taco King, 112 on Broadway, AND Crescendos have almost cult followings, I know this, because I “drink the kool-aid” from all of these places. These owners took chances on Albert Lea, took the leap, dove into OUR community head & heart first. In the first year of a restaurant business, they are more then 90% likely to fail. We know what we like, be it pancakes, tacos, or seared tuna, & thankfully they are just up or down the street! 4. A dog park! A splash pad! Holy crap! Sometimes the movement IS like wildfire. Sometimes people saddle up, grab the reigns & plow thru adversity for the better of the community. Sheila & others did this because our four legged pals needed to have a park for us to enjoy with them too! (In case you haven’t counted yourself, I think we are over 40 park/rec areas just in town!) And a freaking splash pad just around the corner for Summer?! The committee itself is filled with DOERS, but the outpouring of outside support has been an awesome example of what coming together can accomplish! I mean, there’s those tshirts & sweatshirts, that I know you either have a few of, or want a few of. And then there was a dunk tank, a 5k, & countless BIG donations. These things are perfect examples of needs being met. 5. LAKES! Please direct all excitement for our improvements in our local waterways to the fine folks down at the Shell Rock RWD, also, Laura & her crew with the Lakes Foundation. They are in the trenches, fighting for our water, YOUR water. 6. Oh, do you need something fun to do on the lake? The Boathouse has you covered! Canoes, kayaks, paddle boards for the Summer, & snow shoes in the Winter. Archery too! Scott has a passion for bringing new, different, & fun things into our hands. Could you imagine if everyone took that sort of initiative? In case all of those things listed above aren’t for you, there’s still ice skating, rock climbing, pickle ball, swimming, horse shoes, biking, tennis, fishing, ok, ok, I’ll stop...geocaching, roller blading, boating... you know, things you have to DO, actively. 7. There’s something going on every day, you just have to look. I’ve found the search for activities has actually gained me some pretty awesome friends, as well as activities. Did you know you can snag a game night weekly & monthly downtown at The Interchange & the Legion? Jenni always has her hands working on something for the kiddos thru the city, the theatre continues to expand it’s calendar beyond the great ACT performances, & volunteerism is a two way benefit, you could always try that, call Ann! 8. Our arts community is growing! Obviously the apple of my eye, the arts, are coming along beautifully! The feedback I get from families at my collective creative arts space (Meraki, yes that plug just happened), is a feverish “MORE”. Our families are flourishing, whether it’s guitar lessons, dance lessons (young & old), or our newly added cartooning courses. Our families did not just say thanks, they are asking for more. They are hungry, & this fuels my passion for fulfilling that need. Join me, in building our arts community. It’s in need of unity, but more so, it needs you. 9. Our streets are pretty! I’ve seen & heard the effort that has gone into making our downtown the beauty that it’s becoming. Through oppositions, & the normal set of barriers that change brings, it continues to get more friendly & glorious, from outdoor seating options at the coffee shop, Legion & 112, to all the blooming pots & colorful banners! It’s in the details, & sometimes we don’t appreciate how much time & money the little stuff takes! 10. Rock hunting; it’s a real thing Kari & Dori graced our community with this great, active, family AND budget friendly game! Anytime I see a painted rock hidden next to my studio door or by our flower pot, I smile. How many times has AL Rocks brought a little joy into your day? Probably more then you give recognition to! They saw a way to share joy & leaped at the opportunity to give it wings! 11. We’ve got a ton of really great community service peoples. You know at least 5 men & women that serve as a fireman, first responder, nurse, dispatcher, or policeman. They are real people, involved in countless other ways, besides the obvious, to help our community. Knowing that someone is just around the corner, any corner, willing to help with knowledge & heart, puts us all at ease.  

12. Shred at the Skatepark I couldn’t find the birthdate of the skatepark, but over 10 years is a certainty. Anytime I drive or walk by the beach, there’s more action at the skatepark! This gives a place for our youngsters (how freaking old am I, that I’m using that word?!) to go and feel free. Not only a positive for the kids, but for everyone as they’re not tempted to trespass on other areas of town to get some boarding in. 13. Shop Local Yes, we don’t have the stores of Burnsville Center, BUT we do have fabulous clothing retailers that NO ONE else has, like Country Soule, Between Friends, & BG Loft. Toys R Us doesn’t hold a candle to the personal service Tami & her dolls will give you at Celebrations. The list goes on; Pet Authority knows it’s customers by name, The Color Wheel is filled with local artisan gifts & beautiful decor, and Junction Market allows us to pick up all our Pinterest-loving-ideas, without having to actually dip a brush in paint. 14. Our City wants feedback. It seems our city officials always have an ear to the ground, which is not as common as you’d think in other cities. They hold Mayor Mondays, & send out newsletters with events concerning citizens on a variety of levels, of the serious kind, or pleasure. You can even watch the council meetings on youtube from the comforts of your couch, if you can’t make the meetings in person. They care for their business owners, knowing that only together, can we do great things. 15. Everyone knows you, and that’s a good thing. I sometimes scurry out to Walmart or HyVee looking like quite the disheveled un-showered human, and ALWAYS run into at least 3 people I know. But I find comfort in that. There’s no cloak of mystery here, people I sit in professional meetings with during the week, are the same people I run into at Harold’s having a few beers on a Friday night. You can be real. People here really get to be themselves, & you’re never really alone. 16. Evolution of the mall. Remember not that long ago when Skyline was the dead zone for retail space? And now, it’s pretty cooking!? Yes, Northbridge has seen brighter days, but malls in general are having to completely evolve in order to make it “work”. I have no fear that over the next 10 years, it will get it’s groove back into something better then before. Showing patronage to the current stores doesn’t hurt either, so go grab a tan, get your nails done, then sip a margarita (or two), & catch something on the big screen! I feel like that could be a fun afternoon, add that to the activities list! 17. Area small towns, call this their town too I grew up in Alden, and I know anyone from Glenville, Geneva, Hartland, etc. will all say the same thing when you’re 50 miles from home and asked “where are you from”, response: “Albert Lea”. I mean, it’s where we get groceries, where we come to get our hair done, when we’re sick we come for help, it’s all of ours. That’s what community means.

18. 30 under 40 Our community is at the cusp of something pretty awesome right now, the next generation is stepping up, planting roots, investing in us. I know this, because my husband & I fall into this category, and so do a lot of our friends. While there will always be people, young AND old, that will shit on the work of others, we’ll still be here working our tales off for the better of the world. Millennials aren’t so bad, neither are the Generations Xers, or Baby-Boomers, there’s just rotten eggs in any age group. It’s our job to put our heads down, & keep putting in the work, together.

19. Perspective can alter the course of everything. While in the last few years I’ve found myself back on this soap box, my guilt is lessening each time I start to type or speak. No I don’t think it’s necessary to rebuttal in the effort I have here, every single time, but I do think the opposition to Albert Lea shaming needs to be felt at every negative word or comment made. Being silent, when someone is being bullied, has equal the damage. Stand up. Be proud. Make your voice be heard. Do great things here.

20. If you leave, you’ll most likely be back....I did. I graduated high school, was around for a year or so, and then took off to the cities. I stayed up there for about 3 years. I loved my job, but in the end, I couldn’t find a decent space for myself & my Louie dog to stay, so I came back. I was uncertain how I felt about it, but I did know, I always called it “Home”. And it continues to feel more like mine, each day I’m here. Each time I glance out my office window and see families walking the lake, or neighbors going to grab a bite to eat on their lunch break together. As the wings of Meraki catch flight, I realize that in order for it to be Meraki, it needed to be here. This is home. I chose it, & in return, it chose me.

#iamalbertlea

[eyez-ff-blog]

○○ eyez | outtake two

The small apartment in New Jersey was cozy enough for one—warm décor seemed to fill the home and it even came with a standalone fireplace that made it feel like home. But there was nothing warm about the person who lived there. Tonight would be one of the coldest nights she’d feel in a while. She sat on the phone with her friend in silence, staring at the television as it played the various holiday features that they did around this time of year.

“Mel? You gotta talk to me babe,” She heard Nicole’s voice, and she ran a hand over her head as she stretched across the couch. “What’s on your mind?” She asked.

“You know Jermaine hasn’t used his snapchat like...in ever. Like, it’s crazy,” Melissa’s voice came out dry and chaste, but her face seemed so pained. “And then I get sent some video he put up,” She said.

“J was on his Snap?” Nicole asked, and she was silent for a bit—Mel could only assume that Nicole was looking for whatever Mel was speaking of. “Oh...oh, shit,” Nic mumbled.

“Did you know she was pregnant?” Melissa asked, and Nicole cleared her throat briefly. “You knew. I’m sure Ib told you or something,” She sighed.

“Beija told me herself—I took her to the doctor because she wasn’t feeling well,” Nicole said, and Mel sank farther into the couch. “What did you expect, though? They’re together, Mel. I told you that,” She said.

“I know. But they haven’t been together that long and all of a sudden they’re living in a new place together and she’s fucking knocked up. I feel...I feel cheated, Nicole. That was supposed to be me,” She said.

“Well...it’s not,” Nic said softly. “I love you, Mel. You know this—but honestly, you can’t harbor all this animosity like you’re doing. Beija didn’t steal your man, Jermaine left you. He walked out on his own, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it,” She explained.

“But I don’t get it, Nic. I don’t. I just...let me stop complaining. It is what it is,” She sighed. “Look, I’ll call you later, okay? Sorry for whining,” She said.

“Girl, please. You know I’m here for you, but you know I gotta keep it real with you too. I wanna see you out here thriving, not sulking and shit,” Nicole replied. “But get some rest, and I’ll call you tomorrow. Matter of fact, I’m off so I should come down there and we can hang out,” She suggested.

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then,” Mel hung up her phone and sat it on the table before she reached for the glass of wine she had poured some time ago. She sipped slowly before the small sips became a fluid sqig, and she was seeing the bottom of her glass. She sat the glass down and she grabbed the neck of the bottle before she began to down it quickly.

Over the course of an hour, one bottle turned into three.

She sat on the couch with her head in her hands as she thought to herself about the first time she had met Jermaine. He was just a kid at the time—a young man who was looking to get into music and was convinced he’d be one of the greatest to ever do it. She wasn’t entirely sure if he’d make it or not but he was cute to her. With his charm, wit and charisma it was easy for her to fall for him and she became the passenger and right hand woman in his life. Even when he went off to college she stayed true and was in belief that he’d do something well with his life.

When he first got signed to Jay-Z’s label, she was elated to know that her boyfriend was actually following his dreams. She was doing the same as a teacher, and when they moved to New York together she stood by him through the many years he struggled to get himself together. But when ‘Sideline Story’ came along it seemed to propel him into a sense of notoriety that she knew he had always wanted. But then again, maybe that’s when it all changed for them.

Touring was the worst part about dating a performer—she wouldn’t see Jermaine for months at a time and she could only hope she’d never get texts or calls from women trying to ‘come clean’ about their sins. Every hope was crushed brutally, and she had gathered an immense amount of Jermaine’s mutilated skeletons hanging within her emotional closet. The bones were twisted and the flesh was rotten, and it brought nothing but pain upon her heart. But she believed that they were merely bodies without souls; conquests that meant nothing to the man she loved. He loved her, and his heart was at home with her no matter where his ego or his dick seemed to lead him.

It got worse before it got better, but eventually he did come around to tie the knot with her. He stopped partying so much and kept away from the women; it was a sign of hope for Melissa. Her standing by and staying true had finally paid off, and she had won what she had so rightfully earned. Now it was time to build the life that she had always wanted with him. She wanted a family and a normal life—or at least as normal as it could be given the circumstances. Mel felt that she deserved it for being so faithful. She almost got what she wanted but then...Beija.

That bitch. That brilliant, amazing bitch.

Melissa had heard a multitude of stories about Beija Demarco—typical young girl from the dirty south with big hair and big dreams, coming out to New York because she wanted to be an A&R. She got into Dreamville because Ib owed someone a favor, and Mel found that laughable for many reasons. But once she found out the girl was not only a college student but going for her masters, she had gained a little more respect for her. Most of her animosity stemmed from jealousy. Beija looked like the plethora of women Jermaine came across, and aesthetically she was his type. That was a fearsome fact from the jump, but it only got worse when Jermaine would bring up stories about he and Beija’s conversations. He seemed to be so happy to have found a friend. Though Melissa could have just chalked it off to him being as friendly as he was, she knew better. She knew a crush when she saw one.

She could do nothing but be subtly happy about the small stint of separation between Jermaine and Beija, and even after she found out they were talking again she tried to rationalize what was going on between them. They were alike in a lot of ways and when a person spent time with a person every day, an attachment could form. Absence after the tour would only bring Jermaine back to his reality and back to what he had at home. But that was when he dropped the most hurtful of bombs into Melissa’s life.

He was in love with Beija. He didn’t want Mel anymore, and it hurt her from the inside out.

She spent months after their separation thinking, trying to piece together the moment she stopped being the apple of Jermaine’s eye and when Beija became someone he loved enough to leave his wife for. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the reasoning. None of it made sense. She felt this sense of inadequacy, and it fueled her resentment. But she had to keep herself calm. She was a grown woman—she wouldn’t let this little girl turn her into an embittered spitfire. Ironically, it wasn’t Beija she became bitter towards, but Jermaine himself.

Melissa grabbed her phone and dialed the familiar number—even with his number long deleted, she knew it like the back of her hand. Her hands shook softly before she heard some soft breathing. “Hello?” His voice was clouded with sleep, and she frowned softly at how his gravely tone still made her tremble between her thighs. It only fueled her more.

“I hate you,” Mel’s tears spilled out of her eyes as she began. “How fucking...could you, Jermaine?”

“What—Melissa?” He whispered, and she heard some shuffling before the click of a door, and his voice grew a bit more defined. “Do you realize it’s damn near four in the morning?” He asked.

“I don’t give a fuck what time it is,” She cried out. “How could you do this to me? You go as far as flaunting her on fucking social media, J?! Are you serious—you speak so much about being private and yet here you are showing her and that fucking belly off,” She snapped.

“Yo...Mel, are you drunk? Look, we can talk when you’re sober, I’m not about to do this with you,” J mumbled.

“We’re gonna fucking deal with it now! You don’t get to tell me what you’re not gonna deal with—I spent years doing shit your way. It’s my way today,” She said.

J sighed over the line before sucking his teeth. “Alright, what? Talk so I can go the fuck to bed,” He sounded irritated and within Melissa’s inebriation, it served to add more anger to her mood. How dare he seem annoyed as if he wasn’t out here making a fool of her?

“You got a lot of nerve to try to sound peeved when I have to sit here and watch you do everything with her that you promised to me,” Mel argued. “One minute you’re telling me you’re not ready for kids but now it’s ‘oh, let’s show off the baby bump,’ ‘oh, let me get her a house;’ you’re full of shit, Jermaine! All I ever asked of you was to love me. I just wanted the love I gave you for so many fucking years of my life!” She yelled. “Do you know how many niggas I curved for you, or how many people told me you’d never make it in the rap game? I ignored it all because I believed in you, and all I wanted was for you to be with me and be present. And you just couldn’t care enough to do that!”

“Mel, what the fuck do you want me to do—take the baby out? Shit changes, okay? I’m sorry I fucked you over. I will never feel good about the way I did you,” Jermaine’s calm was diminishing and Mel could tell by the sound of his voice. “But I’m not about to sit here and listen to you try to rub in what you did for me. I am aware of what you sacrificed and not only am I grateful but I feel bad about not paying it forward. But I don’t know what you want me to do about this. I love Beija and she’s having my child. You yelling at me ain’t changing shit,” He said.

“You’re so fake,” She laughed. “You’re not sorry. You’re not sorry about anything you’ve done to me—you do what Jermaine wants to do and anyone who doesn’t like it just gets hurt. You lie and you make up lines to shut me up, and I fell for it every time. You fucked other women and said you loved me; a lie. How could you love me and disrespect me? You didn’t even respect those women either. You didn’t even care. What are you gonna do when you meet another woman who just so happens to ‘understand’ you, huh? You gonna leave that bitch with your baby?”

“First of all, you’re gonna watch your fucking mouth. You’re letting that liquor get you real bold and you need to calm the fuck down,” Jermaine’s tone changed to a sharpened aggression, the anger in his position now clear as crystal. “I never let nobody disrespect you when we were together—even when I did my dirt, I never let anybody talk about you the way you speaking on my girlfriend right now. I have tried so hard to be mature about this but Mel you getting on my last fucking nerves with this. You got a right to be angry but you leave B out of this shit,” He warned.

“Or what? What are you gonna do? I said what I said—fuck you and fuck her. Y’all were fucking made for one another. You had her in our home, knowing you liked her, but you want me to calm down? You’ve got the whole game fucked up,” She laughed bitterly.

“Man, grow the fuck up. I’m not apologizing for shit no more. Stay off my shit if you don’t wanna see me ‘show Beija off,’ Mel. It’s so easy. But since you’re acting too fucking childish and stupid to do so, I’ll do it for you—consider all your shit blocked. Have a nice life,” The line clicked, and she huffed loudly before she threw the phone across the room, hearing it slam against the wall.

She placed her head in her hands and began to cry, sobbing quietly as her body seemed to curl up slowly. She laid back against the couch and laid in fetal, crying intensely as she closed her eyes to block out her thoughts. She had gotten every piece of negative energy off of her chest, but she still felt shitty. She knew now that her marriage was a lie, and probably her whole relationship along with it. Jermaine had stolen so much of her life, and she’d never be able to reclaim it.

#eyez; outtakes

[ecotone99]

Two Truths and a Lie

All eyes in the classroom turned towards him expectantly. John sighed. He had always been a pretty introverted person, and he didn’t appreciate how these inane icebreaker games put his boring life on blast.

One: “I’ve been to Disneyland four times.”

“The Happiest Place On Earth,” it was called, though John loved saying that it was “the most overrated place on Earth.” He may have only been 12 years old, but he was already tired of the long lines, sweaty people, and overpriced churros that comprised Disneyland. Yet his parents made the annual road trip to Anaheim anyway. His little sister Jenny had become enamored of this flashy capitalism hub after watching numerous princess movies. Every summer, she insisted that she “see Snow White” while John was dragged along, sulking in the heat.

His parents loved little Jenny. With long lashes and silky cheeks, she was their crowning glory. They were constantly at their little princess’s beck and call. Too cold? They bought her an authentic mink fur coat. Hungry? They practically battled each other to cook her mac and cheese. John couldn’t say the same for himself.

Two: “I like apples.”

This got a few laughs. John wasn’t exactly sure why — middle schoolers, he figured.

“I like apples” was the understatement of the century. In truth, John was in a codependent relationship with apples. He ate one every single day after school like clockwork, relishing the luscious, slightly-tart flavor that fondled his tastebuds.

That is, until baby Jenny ransacked the Red Delicious’s in the fridge and had to be rushed to the emergency room for anaphylaxis. Since then, his parents refused to let a single one of those crispy red allergens within a 5-mile radius of the household.

But to John, apples were cocaine. Missing his daily fix for years left a gaping abyss in his soul. Apples infiltrated his thoughts during the day and danced in his dreams at night, bright and glossy and enticing.

Oh, little Jenny. Spoiled rotten but still sweet. No wonder she was the apple of his parent’s eyes.

The irony hurt.

Maybe John was being immature. He was already 12 years old, after all. He realized that rather than foam at the mouth with envy, he should learn to be a good big brother to Jenny — braid her hair, tell her stories, play games.

Heck, he would be the best big brother ever and roleplay her favorite Disney feature-length animation.

Three: “I have a sister.”

submitted by /u/eggpuff15 [link] [comments] source https://www.reddit.com/r/shortscarystories/comments/f3u77d/two_truths_and_a_lie/ via Blogger https://ift.tt/2HlxgOk

#Blogger #Story

[kacydeneen]

Family, Friends Mourn California Boat Fire Victims

Family and friends converged on Southern California to learn the fates of their loved ones after a commercial scuba boat erupted in flames off the coast near Santa Cruz Island on Labor Day, leaving 34 people confirmed or presumed dead.

Among those who lost their lives were a 41-year-old marine biologist, a 25-year-old crew member who was dedicated to the Southern California scuba community and three sisters celebrating a birthday for their father, also presumed dead.

Man Who Rescued 5 Survivors From Deadly Boat Fire Shares Horrific Story

Here are their stories.

Diana Adamic

Updates: Download the NBCLA App

Adamic died on the scuba trip along with her husband, Steve Salika and his daughter, Tia, a student at Pacific Collegiate School, a charter school in Santa Cruz. Tia's fellow student Berenice Felipe also died on the trip.

"Obviously, our hearts are with these two PCS families, and we hope and pray that they are found safe," wrote Maria C. Reitano, the head of the school. "As we await more information, please know that PCS is prepared to respond to difficult times such as this. We will have additional counselors on site tomorrow and in the days to come, who are trained to help support students, staff, parents, and our entire school community. This tragedy is sure to raise many emotions, concerns, and questions for our entire school, especially our students."

Neal Baltz

Baltz died on the scuba trip with his girlfriend, Patricia Beitzinger, said Beitzinger's niece, Hannah.

Hannah said in a Facebook message that her aunt and Baltz were perfect for each other.

Patricia Beitzinger

Beitzinger died on the scuba trip with her boyfriend, Neal Baltz, said Beitzinger's niece, Hannah.

"She's one of the coolest people I ever met," Hannah said in a Facebook message. "She was adventurous and brave and always living every day as full as she could, she was always going on these amazing trips around the world. And so goofy she has a great sense of humor and was always smiling and laughing. And Neal was the same way, they were perfect for each other and I considered him my uncle as well."

Kendra Chan

Kendra Chan was on the boat with her father, R. Scott Chan, a physics teacher at American High School in Fremont. In a Facebook post, Kendra's brother, Kevin, wrote: "Thanks for being my big sister, Kendra. I'll miss you and your love for all things outdoors and underwater. Rest easy."

Raymond Scott Chan

Raymond Scott Chan, a physics teacher in Northern California, was identified as one of the people killed in the boat fire off the coast of Santa Cruz island, according to the Fremont Unified School District. His daughter Kendra, a marine biologist in Southern California, also was aboard the Conception.

The school district tweeted, "We are saddened to report the passing of American High School Physics Teacher, Raymond (Scott) Chan, who was among the fatalities of this weekend's boat fire off the coast of Santa Barbara. We send our condolences to Mr. Chan's family and the American High School community."

Berenice Felipe

Berenice, a student at Pacific Collegiate School, a charter school in Santa Cruz, died on the scuba trip with fellow student Tia Salika and Salika's parents.

"Obviously, our hearts are with these two PCS families, and we hope and pray that they are found safe," wrote Maria C. Reitano, the head of the school. "As we await more information, please know that PCS is prepared to respond to difficult times such as this. We will have additional counselors on site tomorrow and in the days to come, who are trained to help support students, staff, parents, and our entire school community. This tragedy is sure to raise many emotions, concerns, and questions for our entire school, especially our students."

Kristy Finstad, 41

Finstad was a diving enthusiast who was leading the dive trip as the co-owner of Worldwide Diving Adventures.

She ran the company with her husband, Dan Chua, who was leading another dive in Costa Rica when the boat Finstad was on caught fire.

Finstad's brother Brett Harmeling of Houston asked for prayers in a Facebook post.

"Thank You ALL for your unconditional love and support during this incredibly tragic time," he wrote. "My family and I truly appreciate it. "No final word on my sister Kristy; however, it is likely she has transitioned to be with the good Lord."

Daniel Garcia

Garcia, from Berkeley, worked for Apple. He was on the boat with his girlfriend, Yulia Krashennaya.

Nicole, Angela Rose, Evan and Michael Quitasol and Fernisa Sison

The Quitasol sisters were celebrating the birthday of their father Michael, who is also presumed dead, their mother Susana Rosas said on Facebook. Their stepmother, Fernisa Sison was also on board.

"It is with a broken heart ... 3 of our daughters were on this boat," she wrote on Facebook. "As of now they are still missing. My #1, Evanmichel Solano Quitasol, my #3, NicoleStorm Quitasol and my #4, Angela Rose Quitasol. My girls' dad Michel Storm Quitasol and stepmom were also on the boat."

Nicole Quitasol lived in San Diego and worked at Nicky Rottens Bar & Burger Joint in Coronado for the last four years, according to the restaurant.

"She was one of a kind. She was ahead of her time, for sure. An old soul that was just in love the outdoors, anything to do with her dog, peanut butter, anything to do with water, beaches, diving, paddle boarding — I mean, that was her life," Nicky Rottens CFO Bryn Butolph told NBC7.

Marybeth Guiney

Guiney, a sales director and ocean enthusiast who was dedicated to the protection of sharks and other sea life, was hailed by friends as an outgoing figure who always had a smile.

"She was such an inspiration, a voice to help understand and protect sharks, and shared her pictures and stories as she traveled the world," one friend wrote on Facebook. "She was endlessly energetic, optimistic and always had a smile to share. Just can't believe it. What a tragedy for so many."

Another wrote: "Her gentle and sweet nature made her a great companion ... Marybeth was 'good people.'"' Another added: "You were hysterical. You were real. I will always think about you and smile."

Alexandra Kurtz, 25

Family described Kurtz as an energetic go-getter who was passionate about scuba diving and lived life to the fullest.

"She loved it here," Kurtz's sister Cherie McDonough said. "She loved the boat. She loved diving."

She also loved exploring nature in the ocean and had been embraced by Southern California's tight-knit diving community, her sister said.

Charles McIlvain

McIlvain, according to his Facebook page, worked as a visual effects designer for Walt Disney Imagineering.

His wife, filmmaker Jasmine Lord, was not with him on the Conception dive boat. Her online posts indicated she was working over the weekend in Miami — in the path of Hurricane Dorian.

After receiving news of the deadly fire, McIlvain's friends poured out their hearts online, calling him one of "the kindest, funniest people you'll ever meet."

"Anyone who knew Charles 'Chuck' McIlvain would know how full of life he was, how contagious his laugh and his smile was and what a warm soul he had," another friend wrote.

Neighbors of the pair in Santa Monica said that Guiney would often go on dive trips with McIlvain and his wife. Of McIlvain, one neighbor told the station: "He's the kind of guy who's always happy — 8 o'clock in the morning, he's happy. Comes home from work at 7, he's happy."

The Malibu Divers dive shop posted on its Facebook page: "All of us are devastated by the Conception dive boat tragedy. We'd like to honor Charles McIlvain and Marybeth Guiney by asking you to tell a story about a dive adventure or (anecdote) you had with them. Please share, I know it will help us all."

Steve and Tia Salika

Tia Salika, a student at Pacific Collegiate School, a charter school in Santa Cruz, died on the scuba trip with her parents and fellow student Berenice Felipe.

"Obviously, our hearts are with these two PCS families, and we hope and pray that they are found safe," wrote Maria C. Reitano, the head of the school. "As we await more information, please know that PCS is prepared to respond to difficult times such as this. We will have additional counselors on site tomorrow and in the days to come, who are trained to help support students, staff, parents, and our entire school community. This tragedy is sure to raise many emotions, concerns, and questions for our entire school, especially our students." 

Editor's note: This video in this story has been removed as it incorrectly identified a victim. 

Photo Credit: Getty Images Family, Friends Mourn California Boat Fire Victims published first on Miami News

[asawhittington3-blog]

Subliminals Music For Incentive.

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[deepgrooveshow]

New Post has been published on http://deepgrooveshow.com/podcast/nye-2017-special

NYE 2017 Special

Here we go with an 6 hour deepGroove Show NYE 2017 Special with jackin Deephouse by DJ Spinna, Dixon, Kiko Navarro, Manoo, Kerri Chandler, Demarkus Lewis, DJ Spinna, Karizma, Roland Clark, Quentin Harris, Jon Cutler, Blaze

Mix on hearthis.at (HiFi – 320 Kbps)

Listen to deepGroove Show – NYE 2017 Special (HiFi Version) bydeepGroove [Show] by Martin Kah on hearthis.at

  https://hearthis.at/deepgrooveshow/

Mix on Podomatic (LoFi – 128 Kbps)

https://www.podomatic.com/podcasts/deepgrooveshow

  Tracklist

Alton Miller – Love Inside (Club Mix)

Shaun Escoffery And DJ Spinna – Days Like This (DJ Spinna Original Mix Edit)

Sean MCcabe And Cinnamon Brown – It’s My Life

Kerri Chandler – 13 To 41

Trackheadz – Our Music (Unreleased 2001 Mix)

The Journey Men – Close To Me

Soulista – The Foundation (Black Version)

Karizma – The Power

Ron And Manoo – The Sound

Manoo And Raoul K And Ahmed Sosso And Dixon – Toukan (Dixon Rework)

Demajor – Lizwi – Traveller (Kususa & Quetornik Official Remix)

Pablo Fierro – La Palma

Dany Cohiba – The Spear Of Destiny

Kiko Navarro And Julie MCknight And Koki – All Because Of You (Koki Vocal Mix)

DJeff Afrozila And Helen Ting – Awakening

Michael Eclectic – Rotten Apple

Blacky – The Deep

Jaymo & Andy George And Marquis Hawkes – 1968 (The Broken Tape) (Marquis Hawkes Remix)

Lenny Maze – Bring Some Lovin

Lessovsky – Fly High

Miss Luna – Not The Same Old Day (Feat. Q Derhino) (City Soul Project’s Classic Mix)

Seb Skalski – Black Agenda

IndySoul, Darian Crouse, Entity – It’s Me (Entity’s Soulful Reprise)

Homero Espinosa And Phaze Dee And Mikey V – Taste Of Your Love

Dave Anthony And Richard Anthony Davis And Manoo – She Don’t Know (Manoo Remix)

Bertha – Huzzah (Listen)

Chopstick And Johnjon – Keep It Real Son

Kerri Chandler – We Can (Kerri Chandler)

Paul Rudder – Hurlee – No More

May 89th – Komposition I

A2a – That’s What We Need!

B&S Concept – Eva

Roy Davis Jr. And Terry Dexter – My Nation

Enea DjDj Lukas Wolf – Big Apple (Reloaded Chicago Radio Version)

Lupe Fuentes, Kerri Chandler – 1000 Watts (Kerri Kaoz Chandler Vocal Dub)

The Journey Men – Close To Me

Tuccillo – Kiko Navarro – Amor – Lovery (Pablo Fierro Remix)

Rephlex – Lady Lee – Is It Love

Lrusse – Part Of The Plan

Thee Gobbs And Kabomo And Rocco – Time To Rise (Rocco Dub Mix)

324am – Afronautes

Andrea Curato And Wilson Santos – A Night In A Chicago Club (Deep Journey Mix)

Mikaël Delta – Paul Randolph – This Is The Place (Michael Moses Afro Touch Mix)

Demarkus Lewis And E-Man – Behind Closed Doors (Feat. E-Man) (Deez 2017 Work Out)

Allen Craig – String In A Maze

Rainy Payne And DJ Bee – Unspoken (The Definition DJ Bee’s Cool Beats Mix)

Chopstick & Johnjon And Cece Rogers – What Is House Music

Pat Bedeau – Brotherhood

Jesusdapnk And Mastercris – Alive (Mastercris Remix)

Slavic – Letlapa

Demajor – Lizwi – Traveller (Kususa & Quetornik Official Remix)

DJ Spinna – Don’t You Blow (DJ Spinna Refreak)

Karizma – The Sea

Byron Stingily – Get Up (Everybody) (Mousse T. Remix)

Black Loops – Where My Girls At

Roland Clark – I Love My Life

Fabio Tosti – Fight For Love (Deeper Mix)

Modern Walker – House Lovin N Walking (Incl. Luna City Express & Herb Lf Mixes) (Herb Lf Remix)

C. Forman, D. Bennett, R. Medina, Quentin Harris – Spiritual Life (Quentin Harris Instrumental)

Chris Minus And Mr. V – The End

Jon Cutler & E-Man And The Black 80s – The Statement (The Black 80s Mix)

Blaze – Lovelee Dae

Listen dGRShow on Radios 1 week before release

#Blaze #Demarkus Lewis #Dixon #Dj Spinna #Jon Cutler #Karizma #Kerri Chandler #Kiko Navarro #Manoo #Quentin Harris #Roland Clark #Afrohouse #Deephouse #Guestmix #Jackin #Podcast

[sl7ventime]

SIGN UP Hot 97 Freestyle Black Thought HOT 97 FREESTYLE LYRICS [Verse] Uh, I'm sorry for your loss It's a body dead in the car and it's probably one of yours The writing all across the window and the walls Whether it was true or false, we shouldn't have got involved Remember, we walked past the teacher, take the chalk and laugh We wrote punishments: "I will not talk in class" Now it's pistols punishing people for talking fast And all these innocent bystanders is hauling ass I hate to say I told y'all, but I told y'all Things fall apart when the center too weak to hold ya'll I'm just collecting what you owed to my old jawn You 'bout to get swooped down on and stoled on Fools swear they wise, wise men know they foolish Well, we was headed for the web even before computers I never thought you'd give me a reason to do this Cain and Abel, Jesus and Judas Caesar and Brutus, I see intruders, avert your eyes I told you keep out of the hood, circumcise How could you sleep? I thought you always was the first to rise Ay, yo, you heard the line, "Everybody plays the fool"? Well, I'll be that exception to the rule The principal that hand-deliver lessons to the school I was making major moves, my dollar déjà vu My mission was my ambition was brandishing a tool To be a' icon, wearing slippers made of python Get mine quicker 'cause I'm slick as a pipeline Transportin' the oil, tribulation and toil Hit the operation, but I'm back in the soil Got my crown tilted, my gown quilted, silk with cashmere Burning Rome down in a minute, built it last year Newsflash, I dodged the bullet that killed the cashier My homie told me to come with him to the masjid Them brothers said, "Don't go from written bars filled with rage To primetime television and your gilded cage Then forget it's people in the world still enslaved" I barbwired my wrist, and let it fill the page Gun fire n' flares, sirens glare I'm in a iron chair where people who care Don't get the lion's share When I don't give a fuck, then I ain't fair I'm on a higher tier with people gettin' money like the financier Cash the herald I'm fresh chopped, A Bevel Rap on a doctorate level, so F. Scott Fitzgerald Maybe I'm the new Rakim, maybe I'm fat Pharaohe Undergarments or armor be my intimate apparel Pre-Kardashian Kanye, my rhymeplay immaculate Same cadence as D.O.C. pre-accident Maybe, my acumen's on par with Kool G. Rap and them Give me the proper respect, mothafucka', we back again For a couple things we lost in a fire The drive, the desire to perform on a higher plateau I'm at that show, lost in a mire Wondering how we got so far from inspired Look, when photos were sepia-toned And record players were somethin' you would keep in your home Yo, the traveler, the meaning of Tariq, he was known For the exemplary performance, uniquely his own I made the twenty-one pound for some a newfound religion Where money's put down, it's only one sound that make OGs and young lions equally proud to listen The secret amalgamism, a algorithm Coming from where only kings and crowns permitted the darkness Where archaeologists found my image in parchment Rolled into a scroll, holding a message for you It said, "The only thing for sure is taxes, death, and trouble" The anomaly sworn solemnly, high snobbidy Freakonomics and war policy, dichotomy That's Heaven and Hades, Tigris and Euphrates His highness, the apple of the Iris to you ladies As babies, we went from Similac and Enfamil To the internet and Fentanyl When all consent was still against the will I got that detox for y'all The microphone doctor, black Deepak Chopra I'm a griot that make you wanna peacock your arm Every heavy dignitary paying me top, regards Boy, I'm three optics far from your binoculars So, that smart money finna get the heat out the car Yo, I'm K-Dot Lamar meets 2Pac Shakur Got profiled by a few cops, too hot to charge Listen, somebody said a price tag was on a rapper's head So we gon' see a nice bag when the rapper dead The mask black, the flag green, black, and red They'll probably wave a white flag after plasma shed No doubt, yo, the game went they own route I can't explain what these lame kids is talkin' 'bout Or how they fit they whole foot into they own mouth I put a couple bodies in a brown bag, then I'm on route I'm sneaker shoppin' with my son, a size 8 Prior to they release, 'cause why wait? Look, in my estate I got electrified gates For these blasé guys hating at a high rate 'Cause I dodged fate then got great, the fly's straight If we ain't family or friends, then we don't vibrate And I'm that gun in y'all face, none of y'all safe If I catch you at the right time in the wrong place, slippin' Sippin' on something with a strong taste Like Whiskey or bootleg Bourbon with a corn base My Levante resemble a vehicular threat The mic I spray, resemblin' the sickle of death It ain't strenuous to come from a continuous breath I set fire to the venue, I'ma spin you and step Rinse, repeat You checkin' for the sound of the beast I'm the hound, I'ma creep, I get down, I'ma eat I'ma keep somethin' to lay a naysayer to sleep Playin' with heat, nobody and nothin' fucking with 'Riq Yo, these weaklings is claiming they cutting up in the street Nigga, peace, you ain't working with nothin' but the police Listen, you ain't finna be nothing but the deceased Listen, you in a tournament with a permanent crease I strike fear in the hearts of rap figures Who mind bare the stigmas of time, no black privilege From boom bap niggas to trap niggas You in the trap with us, when the lines is as Vivid as the walls on the graph Autographed by the Lord of Wrath I reside between the seconds on the chronograph How much more CB4 can we afford? It's like a Shariah Law on "My Cherie Amour" How much hypocrisy can people possibly endure? But ain't nobody working on a cure, my young boul Y'all just regular, I'm a' apex predator Brim stay fresh, feathered up, etcetera Nevertheless, I got a message and left One dead messenger, yep My pen is Henry Kissinger, Buzz Bissinger Look, my caporegime is to no redeem And my oldest son Ahmir Saleem out of New Orleans Took a golf cart to the Baccarat from the Waldorf What was on the wall? That depend on what you call art I'ma say 300k ain't even in the ballpark I charge more just for awkward small talk So yes, who's fucking with it if it's not the best? I get the lobby painted fresh upon my request It's Kafka-esque, His Holiness, stop the press That Cobalt blue, reminiscent of Makkaresh Lord, we got Padma Lakshmi for you Let her massage your back with black seed oil The foundation is firm, the flags need soil Me? I need Royal Tea because I bleed royal Go through the vein to the brain, fabulous and strange My journalistic range is a catalyst for change It got anybody that listen pissin' flame And 'cause the Hall of Fame got so many missing names I'll acknowledge the original People's not Oliver Y'all will get the next challenger for Excalibur I'm more policed for my core beliefs They tried to capture me and brand me on the cheek With a fleur-de-lis The side of my heart'll be more discreet I'm international, my passport page is like War and Peace I've always played my part from the start Back in Philly where the triggers is mandatory to spark With a slightest inflammatory remark I have you enter living a category apart Listen, a grain of salt'll tip the scales, it never fails Walk on egg shells, sleep on a bed of nails Criminal records like record sales Making heads or tails We like Henrietta Lacks up in the cells My mother was a working class, very loving woman Who struggled, every dinner could've been the last supper I come home, chasing good-for-nothing half-cousins And then walk in the crib to the smell of crack cooking She was introduced to that substance abuse On some of the strongest drugs that the government produced Look, I even got excused by the principal My story is out of the dub dub interview I've seen some ice cold summers, hot winters too I never thought I'd win Grammy Awards with The Roots I never thought I would be getting long in the tooth My OGs told me, ''Boy you better go and live your truth'' I am a walking affirmation, that imagination And focus and patience gets you closer to your aspiration And just 'cause they give you shit don't mean you have to take it My words capture greatness, sworn affidavits Yours truly, the celestial being You stay seeing pulling up in the fresh European High-stepping out of it, dressed to a T And not another got more soul, 'less you Korean I’ve been having visions of Nat Turner holding his master’s head Like Yorick and Horatio in Hamlet Smacking it like a tennis racket, underhanded Send a message through the Gram: ''The Eagle has landed'' Dressed in a military jacket made of canvas I am no gorilla, I just make 'em go bananas Outstanding, red, black, and green bandanas Cocked hammers, hairs on my chin is outstandin' Can't manage the weight of war, they're just out ballin' Look, I'll fall up from the sky to see my calling I'm not crawling, I'm a free man like Morgan Seeing manhood in the hood is a damn good bargain If a black man don't tap dance And every girl that got a fat booty don't lapdance Well, I guess it's somethin' wrong, huh? Niggas completely uninformed I don't burn bridges, yo, I keep the haters' runnin' for em' I ain't one of y'all peers, I'm the sum of all fears Somebody stronger than me? Who that? I'm all ears Like Obama, I wish he had another four years Y'all some jolly good Hollywood Squares I'm like, ahem, approach the altar with your offering I spoil rappers rotten like my only offspring Being His Excellency gets to be exhausting You in the residency of the one they call King Dada, Ali Baba, the talented Mr. Trotter Inside of my right palm, the mark of the stigmata Big Poppa, wig chopper, emperor Jaffe Joffer, mufucka' I'm stronger than the coffee out in Kafa All y'all niggas vagina hop, remind me of Icona Pop I step in the booth, I'm a bull inside a China shop, mollywhoppin' Watch another cotton pickin' body drop Every time we rock, yo, they acting like it's Mardi Gras 'Til the party stop, skirt off like she that Ferrari drop Soul Cycle pumping that Earth, Wind and Fire ba-di-ah Coolin' 'pon the dock, à la marina, hard body yacht You seen another rapper cleaner, mami? Probably not How it feel to be the best that did it, I admit it I'm visiting from planet Bring-These-Niggas-Death-In-Minutes And y'all know I'm exquisite, wicked as Wilson Pickett The sickness I exhibit, I'm too legit to quit it I don't fake it 'til I make it, I take it to the limit and break it Never timid, what I'm about, I represent it Infinite just like Chace is, been a million places Conversation is how beautiful my face is People hated on how sophisticated my taste is Then I pulled up on these mothafuckas in a spaceship Panther mind, I'm made of elements you can't combine I'm at a level of intelligence you can't define Einstein, Shakespeare, Voltaire, Tesla Recording artist slash psychology professor I preach for the East, never fold under pressure The beast from the East and I glide like Clyde Drexler Ay, yo, my new name is eighty five X's 'Cause I'm the rap game certified specialist When I was reckless I was worried 'bout the guest list I'm helping rappers everywhere fulfill a death wish Yo Flex, I'm glad we made contact My nigga also know this shit for Combat Brain matter contain too much data I tell a story like fingerprints and blood splatta' WATCH MORE BELOW https://youtu.be/tiRPlCguqEc

#black thought funk flex freestyle lyrics #black thought #best funk flex freestyle #hot 97 Freestyle

[kylo-wrecked]

@brooklynislandgirl :// { cont'd from ~~~ }

—☾—

Just a night or two because she's generous and lonely, and he's greedy and lonely. And maybe because she catches on, and Beth somehow figures going out east will limit his access to certain party favors, but New York's New York. There's salt on the surf even this far out. Especially this far out. Ben does one tidy bump off the side of his hand in the bathroom—that's it, the last one—and minutes later, he's engrossed with every syllable that leaves Beth's wine-plump lips. 

Beth speaks, and Ben gets a taste of her world, flashes of shark fins in bloody sacks, colorless, scaly soups, trembling, knobby hands, reaching out for nothing. She's woven herself into the thread of the land she called home, through generations of sorrow. Even if it means most of what she knows is pain, Beth's thoroughly true to herself. Makes his cock warm, but that’s a problem for later. 

"You're a whole slice of angel, aren't you?" he says with tilted head. "Messenger of the gods. 'Every angel is terror.' Says some Austrian guy, who's probably right."  

'Wha' about you?'

The architecture of Ben Solo shifts then. His head jerks upright. The smile he wears is prim. He even frowns for a split second—just there—appearing ever so slightly puzzled once it registers, when the crescents of Beth's teeth blink from the shadows of his eyes, like lights going out, that she expects an earnest answer from him, as though there were any criteria of human mess Ben might avoid. Under the flickering storm lights, he is smooth as a Swiss Army knife with all its tools tucked away. There's a peculiar glaze over his features, an odd distance in his stare that is generally starkly present. 

"Come on, Riley," he says, tipping the contents in the bulb without drinking. "I'm the avoidee in this scenario. I'm selfish. I get bored. Then I get wired." 

He taps a thumb to the stem of his wine glass, keeping rhythm with the soft bass humming from the patio speakers on his right and clinking over the faint whish of conversation from the white tablecloths and the ocean to his left. 

"I'm a walking red flag." 

Ben shouldn't talk like this. It's just the blow coming off, the wine. Beth. He should stop talking. But he says, "It's bad. I try going to church. Confession. I always have my foot on the threshold. It's public knowledge." 

"I think..." He looked around, lewd eyes darting over sand-washed wood panels and paper furniture from Williams Sonoma. The cougars in Dooney & Bourke and double-hemmed white shorts. "It's just; I can't stand anyone who eats granola every morning but won't let the weedheads use the fucking beach chairs."

The Hamptons were fuckin' weird. Like a cold, Amish Newport or a pancake flat Malibu.

"Joking." Ben raises his glass to Beth, slides into a more comfortable grin, another topic. "I don't know limits, but I'd never eat an apex predator. To the sharks. They're having their revenge this summer—and to you."

He smiles. Not so prim this time. Big red flag, hoisting himself into the sky. 

"I like you."

He drinks.  

#brooklynislandgirl #m. a | music!verse ben: nowhere man #r. rotten apple; big soul #queue de la k #tw: drug mention #tw: drug use

[dwestfieldblog]

DARK MEDITATIONS ON MAY 35TH

(4th June)

David Westfield presents The Disconnection. A monthly seminar:-)

World news and basic facts, tapped from the universal mind, but first a message from the Akashic Record....Down to the burning wire once again, veering from one extreme to the other does not count as balance. The captain of your relationship with Non Self. Voices in choral sequence pulling you out of body. Unable to process information while focusing on it. Distance is depth. Does this path have a heart? Distract the mind elsewhere, throw a question backwards and think of something other. The answer appears, looking for a sign...it says No Road Ahead. Dead End... and another pathway opens as soon as you accept this.  Dream until you awaken, dream until it is real, the circle opens out...  

At that point you realise that that which you are truly summoning is another aspect of your own energy. You truly leave spirit prints in other realms. Thought, projected with an aim or not, is stored and takes on it's own life. Formless contact and contacted form, acknowledge all your sides. Trust me, I'm an idiot. Having fun spotting the fnords...Did you make it through those two paragraphs?  

Due to finances seemingly out of my control (useless magician) I have put an almost temporary halt to the new double cd. And many other things. We shall see whether abstinence makes for a better clarity of visualisations... although the deep set hunger for a nightly obliteration might well interrupt that. My claws and teeth have returned. Want to do everything I know I shouldn't. All of it, love making a collage out my pleasures. The Ego demands temporary satisfactions to deny the Soul. Luxury...  

Let's try drinking water, breathing deep and slow and allow the sunset rays to enter instead. Or not. It might be too late.

304 songs recorded in Prague and I would exchange all of them, the time and energy of their joy for a child of my own, in a heartbeat. In an amphetamine second. Laugh like a giggling child or a Buddhist monk. (stong pa nyid du gyur.... Everything becomes Emptiness).

Got the date of the Million Marijuana March wrong last month, just goes to show how the eagle talons of my memory have been blunted by various means. The past always catches up because there is only Now. Etc. Hmm, on to the Net for a spell...

Dark Meditations on social media, throw them into the satire...throw them to the Wolf.

Foul traitors to the human spirit. Who took the jam out of your doughnut? There you stood on the edge of your feather, expecting to butterfly but regressed to caterpillar. But why get hung up on negativity? Unless you enjoy auto erotic asphyxiation. Normality follows...in a Bitch's Brew. Hunger.

'Why be bleak when you can be Blake?' Jonhn Balance.  

'The self reflecting image of a narcotised mind'. Gira.

Variations on the politics of dominance... 'Antennae tuned to inhuman vibrations'.  Duck Fart calling Cheese Boy out....you guys kill me, how small do your penises have to be for this braggadocio? How about a naked sumo fight to the death in a large tub of butter instead? Just a charming vision.... Glad Le Pen lost, happy that France after all the attacks still has not swung too far Right, shame for all of Putin's cash seeded into her campaign...you're not going to get that investment back baldy. But all your other shit stirring is going so well, you must be proud. Meanwhile here in the Czech Republic, the three main leaders become increasingly foul and ridiculous, a president whose every utterance is despicable and a businessman politician telling the Big Lies as he rises and rises into the rotten stink of filth.  

If you don't stir the cream, it turns into scum.

I first came to Prague several years after the Velvet Revolution and of course I am still an alien outsider, but it is clear after 22 years just how well the leaders have studied and learned from the West. Pulled between populism, and Putin, they choose enrichments and power above actually serving. Say it again for the 93rd time; Only a revolution of the Spirit will win. Silent and beautiful, private and secret, one soul at a time. Remember the Laws of Phase Transition. Or as they say here; 'Truth and love will overcome'. Hold on to let go...

Still irritates me that way too many of the young in rebellion against the usual 'adult' right wing thinking, go for Socialism and left wing rubbish. All those in organisations on demonstrations, funded by those who have NO interest in 'power to the people', but do care about power FROM the people. Bastards swindling suckers. Even the majority of those who disbelieve in mainstream religion end up in various sects/cults who exist solely/SOULy to vampire money and energy from the desperate vacuum created by a lack of personal self discovery and internal private faith.

Speaking of which....

The Campaign for the hearts and minds of the European folk dream...in Britain...

I remain (arf) patriotic of the energy, the magic in England but it has been buried, smothered, dormant. Again, as an outsider, it is more apparent each time I return to the island, the changes are more visible. As unbalanced as I am, it causes an ocean of sadness, then a blind rage of hatred. Then, peace...just biorhythms, moon waves and electromagnetic impulses on chemicals eh? Or something. All will evolve... But...

humans eh? What can you do? We are all in the ark together, for a while.

Street corners all over Prague with servants of The Watchtower...mobile billboards with pictures and stories of 'The Riders of the Apocalypse'. (Isn't it against the law the to disturb the peace?) Sorry smiling ones, but I just won't swallow the coming of the Lord. I love the bible, you couldn't make it up, couldn't make it more ridiculous but they are having dammed good attempt. Standing around trying to scare people - as if we don't have enough shit to worry about. Trying to convince that the end is coming (and looking forward to it because they will be SAVED) and that it will be horrible. Possibly, most of us know this already, which is why we spend so much time on various destructive hobbies to make us feel immortal.  

On better days I would stop and 'engage' Jehovah's Voyeurs in debate, the Mormons, the Scientologists et al... free entertainment...wonderful conversations. I have been in mental asylums where the reasoning makes far more sense. Once again, 'Only the madman is absolutely sure'. I have doubts about Everything (except music) so that means I am sane and pure eh? And you, spending your valuable time speed reading this, how about you? Feeling good?

Tattooed above the gates of Hell:

'Abandon all Hope, all ye who Enter Her'

Last words from Aleister Crowley; 'I am perplexed'. Wonder if he was surprised by all the unconditional Love which appeared just before the 'end'? Getting old is not for carrots, or was that cowards? Memories get distorted when this ancient in Paradise. Arf. So many charming negative possibilities, you need the detachment and wisdom of a sage to overcome and accept 'It is what it is'. And in doing so, 'it' changes'. 'Perception, use it or lose it. As Mr R. Bach's Messiah's Handbook said. It also said; 'Argue for your limitations, and sure enough, they're yours'.  

Hmmm...Wonder where all those who emptied their bank accounts, sold their houses and sat on a mountain waiting for The End in December 1999 are these days? Wishing it had been or much wiser now? Would loved there to have been a live camera on them as the clock clicked to a minute past midnight on the first day of '2000', close ups of each face, zooming into their eyes.

'There's some people on Earth, they live in separate minds'.....'The past and future were simultaneous'. Gira.

'It is difficult, if not impossible to insult a beautiful woman. She remains beautiful and the insult recoils.' It is also impossible to insult a self acknowledged loser. They know and the words mean nothing. The insult only shows that the one who considers themselves above such lowly matters will inevitably be in the same sinking boat sooner

or later. This gives a dark satisfaction.

This year, 'M', a virtual assistant similar to Siri on Apple and Alexa on Amazon has been launched on Facebook in the US. Cannot be disabled, only muted or ignored...it can listen to every conversation on the site and make suggestions about payments, travel etc. Zuckerberg looking more stressed by the month because he is working for the bad guys... possibly why he seeks to do so much for charity in order to appease his conscience. Or not. But the chances of Facebook resisting the CIA's mass surveillance scheme is beyond unlikely. Oh yes, and Facebook's own figures show that there are more 18 year old males using it than are actually alive on this planet. Great research guys, well done. Gullible.  

Wonder if Snowden (follow him on Twitter boys and girls) has been questioned in Russia about his work. Guess. He did the right thing for sure, the problem with democracies pretending to be the good guys is that when they cross over in the name of security on an hourly basis, they really cross over. At some point they only become the devil you think you know. However, given the choice between being ruled by China, Russia or the poison caliphate of daesh, I will still take Europe or even America. I'd much rather have Buddha on the astral, beaming humour and wisdom, or the All Seeing Eye but them is the breaks we get. Every state is a bastard. Some are actually worse than others...

The United Altered States of Earth. That would work. Eh?

Which brings me to May 35th, (as those who used to write about it on social media in China called it, to avoid being arrested) also known as June 4th, the date of the Tienanmen massacres, another disgraceful stain on the group soul of humanity, perpetuated in the name of control. May the memories never be erased from the collective mind. The beginning of the chaos in Syria reminded me of Peking... students and shopkeepers asking for a little more correct behaviour and freedom from their loving leaders, mown down by tanks. Not terrorists, not aggressive agitators, but normal, regular people. SHAME.  

Good to see the former chief of the FBI (sacked by Duck Fart for speaking truth to power) confirming the Russian influence on the recent election in America. Not as if the US has never done this in other countries though eh? Daffy Donald the 'straight talker' is probably overjoyed at having the NSA at his disposal. Straight talker? This man cannot even form coherent sentences...too much time tweeting can do that. Remember Tony Blair describing himself as 'a pretty straight sort of a guy'?? ARF. Reminds me of Hunter S Thompson epithet about President Nixon; 'This guy was so crooked he had to screw his pants on every morning'.  

Duck Fart called the ex boss 'crazy...a real nut job'. Seems reasonable enough eh? A prerequisite for the top job of such a serious agency. A day later, two of those

mentioned in the FBI's case of the Kremlin's pupeteering met POTUS in the White House... without journalists or tapes etc. Not suspicious at all. Impeach him now. And as for Duck Fart's statement that the suicide bomber in Manchester, England was a 'evil loser'....Is this really an adult male speaking?   Almost wept to see a photo of him in Bethlehem, Israel... (getting tips for his Mexican wall no doubt) his motorcade passing a poster with the words 'The City of Peace Welcomes the Man of Peace'. As Dylan said, quoting from another source '...sometimes Satan comes as a man of peace.'.... This is NOT the guy to calm things down, build bridges and make all the children sing with joy. And that's enough of the news/ the olds.  

Admired this month have been PJ Harvey (one of the finest females ever to come from Britain, a beautiful talent and passion) Quentin Tarantino, the absolute genius of Wayne Shorter, truly touched by God. Zappa again, Coil forever, Jaz Coleman's first symphony, the Kammerflimmer Kolektief, Savages and Crass, last of the true punks who lived what they shouted about.

'There is no authority but yourself'.

So...did 'God' lie when it said if you eat the apple, you will surely die'? According to the infallible Bible, Adam and Eve ate and died not. So 'Satan' told the truth? You are already making up your own mind. Happy re-programming. Don't forget kids, the Illuminati are on our side:-) Good luck with the discipline of ritual and projection/ internalisation. See you in the interdimesions....Enjoy the summer of Love...the war for peace is an ancient one.  

If I had half a brain, I'd be dangerous eh?  

Stay well.  

[deepgrooveshow]

New Post has been published on http://deepgrooveshow.com/podcast/nye-2017-special

NYE 2017 Special

Here we go with an 6 hour deepGroove Show NYE 2017 Special with jackin Deephouse by DJ Spinna, Dixon, Kiko Navarro, Manoo, Kerri Chandler, Demarkus Lewis, DJ Spinna, Karizma, Roland Clark, Quentin Harris, Jon Cutler, Blaze

Mix on hearthis.at (HiFi – 320 Kbps)

Listen to deepGroove Show – NYE 2017 Special (HiFi Version) bydeepGroove [Show] by Martin Kah on hearthis.at

  https://hearthis.at/deepgrooveshow/

Mix on Podomatic (LoFi – 128 Kbps)

https://www.podomatic.com/podcasts/deepgrooveshow

  Tracklist

Alton Miller – Love Inside (Club Mix)

Shaun Escoffery And DJ Spinna – Days Like This (DJ Spinna Original Mix Edit)

Sean MCcabe And Cinnamon Brown – It’s My Life

Kerri Chandler – 13 To 41

Trackheadz – Our Music (Unreleased 2001 Mix)

The Journey Men – Close To Me

Soulista – The Foundation (Black Version)

Karizma – The Power

Ron And Manoo – The Sound

Manoo And Raoul K And Ahmed Sosso And Dixon – Toukan (Dixon Rework)

Demajor – Lizwi – Traveller (Kususa & Quetornik Official Remix)

Pablo Fierro – La Palma

Dany Cohiba – The Spear Of Destiny

Kiko Navarro And Julie MCknight And Koki – All Because Of You (Koki Vocal Mix)

DJeff Afrozila And Helen Ting – Awakening

Michael Eclectic – Rotten Apple

Blacky – The Deep

Jaymo & Andy George And Marquis Hawkes – 1968 (The Broken Tape) (Marquis Hawkes Remix)

Lenny Maze – Bring Some Lovin

Lessovsky – Fly High

Miss Luna – Not The Same Old Day (Feat. Q Derhino) (City Soul Project’s Classic Mix)

Seb Skalski – Black Agenda

IndySoul, Darian Crouse, Entity – It’s Me (Entity’s Soulful Reprise)

Homero Espinosa And Phaze Dee And Mikey V – Taste Of Your Love

Dave Anthony And Richard Anthony Davis And Manoo – She Don’t Know (Manoo Remix)

Bertha – Huzzah (Listen)

Chopstick And Johnjon – Keep It Real Son

Kerri Chandler – We Can (Kerri Chandler)

Paul Rudder – Hurlee – No More

May 89th – Komposition I

A2a – That’s What We Need!

B&S Concept – Eva

Roy Davis Jr. And Terry Dexter – My Nation

Enea DjDj Lukas Wolf – Big Apple (Reloaded Chicago Radio Version)

Lupe Fuentes, Kerri Chandler – 1000 Watts (Kerri Kaoz Chandler Vocal Dub)

The Journey Men – Close To Me

Tuccillo – Kiko Navarro – Amor – Lovery (Pablo Fierro Remix)

Rephlex – Lady Lee – Is It Love

Lrusse – Part Of The Plan

Thee Gobbs And Kabomo And Rocco – Time To Rise (Rocco Dub Mix)

324am – Afronautes

Andrea Curato And Wilson Santos – A Night In A Chicago Club (Deep Journey Mix)

Mikaël Delta – Paul Randolph – This Is The Place (Michael Moses Afro Touch Mix)

Demarkus Lewis And E-Man – Behind Closed Doors (Feat. E-Man) (Deez 2017 Work Out)

Allen Craig – String In A Maze

Rainy Payne And DJ Bee – Unspoken (The Definition DJ Bee’s Cool Beats Mix)

Chopstick & Johnjon And Cece Rogers – What Is House Music

Pat Bedeau – Brotherhood

Jesusdapnk And Mastercris – Alive (Mastercris Remix)

Slavic – Letlapa

Demajor – Lizwi – Traveller (Kususa & Quetornik Official Remix)

DJ Spinna – Don’t You Blow (DJ Spinna Refreak)

Karizma – The Sea

Byron Stingily – Get Up (Everybody) (Mousse T. Remix)

Black Loops – Where My Girls At

Roland Clark – I Love My Life

Fabio Tosti – Fight For Love (Deeper Mix)

Modern Walker – House Lovin N Walking (Incl. Luna City Express & Herb Lf Mixes) (Herb Lf Remix)

C. Forman, D. Bennett, R. Medina, Quentin Harris – Spiritual Life (Quentin Harris Instrumental)

Chris Minus And Mr. V – The End

Jon Cutler & E-Man And The Black 80s – The Statement (The Black 80s Mix)

Blaze – Lovelee Dae

Listen dGRShow on Radios 1 week before release

#Blaze #Demarkus Lewis #Dixon #Dj Spinna #Jon Cutler #Karizma #Kerri Chandler #Kiko Navarro #Manoo #Quentin Harris #Roland Clark #Afrohouse #Deephouse #Guestmix #Jackin #Podcast