Brainlick

 Emerald Shadows Act 1: Scene 1: Hotel Lobby Characters: John (Bellhop) Sarah (Front desk clerk) Robert (Hotel manager) Guests [The lobby of the hotel is dimly lit, with faded wallpaper peeling off the walls. A few guests are milling about, whispering to each other. John is arranging luggage carts, and Sarah is behind the front desk, checking guests in.] John: [Looking around, muttering] This place gives me the creeps, Sarah. Did you hear the rumors about the green lights in the rooms scaring people? Sarah: [Nervously] Yeah, it's been going around. But you know how rumors can exaggerate things. I think there must be some logical explanation for it. [Enter Robert, the hotel manager, with a stern expression.] Robert: John, Sarah, I hope you've heard about the recent complaints. We can't afford any more bad publicity. Find out what's going on with those green lights and put an end to this nonsense! John: But sir, I think there's something genuinely eerie about this pla

 Radios and Writers In a small town nestled amidst rolling hills, where time seemed to pass at its own leisurely pace, a group of writers gathered at the local café. Their eyes shimmered with the glow of creativity, and their souls burned with a passion for storytelling. Each one carried within them a unique voice, and on this particular day, they found themselves united by a common fascination—radios. The café hummed with the clatter of cups and saucers, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. The writers sat around a weathered wooden table, their notebooks open, ready to capture the essence of their shared muse. They came from different backgrounds, their paths diverging in the intricate tapestry of life, but their love for radios intertwined them like the delicate threads of a spider's web. Hemingway, known for his concise and powerful prose, leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the distance. He ran his hand through his thick, white beard, contemplating the

 Bye TROY.  F***!, Man.   RIP, DR T. from The Process. The first time I wrote about the Process was back in 1993.  I was 17 years old, it was summer, I had a Newsletter that focused on Commodore 64 games and High Scores in local tournaments.  I had deep focus on Anime, Gaming, and computing, basically.   It was only a one or two page affair that had a small listing of music stuff. I was reached late one night in Summer of 1993 by a guy named Troy, who said I should expand the newsletter  (The Nocturnal Voice) into a "Fanzine", type thing, and instead of having 2 pages with just Dot Matrix Text, that I should include clip art, make it ten to twenty pages long in half size format like small indie 'zines.   Not only that, but to balance out the attention to games and cartoons to music as well, and give un-biased reviews of the tunes, instead of recommendations, not becase the bands  were local, or were hot. He told me one time...  "it don't matter if its punk, metal