Mater killer

in time my wounds will heal - as they give your name
rivals meeting face to face - fate sealed, you bow down in shame
run, run, you run so far - escape to nowhere
I smell the path you`ve fled - turn your head you`re dead
I am the master killer - fall to me
pray for a way out which you can`t see
I the master killer - strike you down
can`t be detected, I own the crown
your solemn sanctuary has become mine
crawl upon your victims - see the tears of fear in their eyes
watch them bleed, see as they writhe in pain
no one will answer
I`ve taken your mind and soul
only escape is your fucking grave
I am the master killer - fall to me
pray for a way out which you can`t see
I the master killer - strike you down
can`t be detected, I own the crown
the end has come for you at the cost of your life
now I stand atop the mountain, my killings have no end in sight
I am the master killer - fall to me
pray for a way out which you can`t see
I the master killer - strike you down
can`t be detected, I own the crown

"αιων κοσμος εκ χρονος εκ γιγνομαι τικτω Λογος"
(אלהיך יהוה)

The fairytale & the Viscious Circle of Demonic Eyes of our Planet an undocumented story of a legions plan-net The Web of Lyes with our Soul...

Living happily ever after two realms joined into one. There were fair maidens and noble nights and together they gave birth to the universe. Loyal servants of the nothingness. Young souls of heart they flew about the matrix playing and creating. The nothingness has always been and will always be, it is our reason for existence. Some where off in the nether nether lands, our antcestors entered portals and became to co exist. The people of inside the nether nether lands were only able to survive one of each species. In hopes to recreate their humanity they created nebulas, another astral projection in hopes they could defeat the xenu the cyborg they created with technology that adventually diminished their people. In hopes Xenu wouldn't discover their secret they protected the portal with a shield, a reflective window. A Mirror wall. So as loyal servants travelled the different planets becoming our creators from the stars they realized that the mirror was draining their life source making them mortal. They knew Xenu wouldnt be to far behind them but weaker they grew discovering earth they gave it all a mortal man would need and deep within the center of earth they hid the fountain of youth, and they called it utopia, where there immortality lay deep in the waters and there everlasting fertility grew inside of the elegion fields. And somewhere over the rainbow they created gold and on the other side behind the beautiful waterfall held beautiful diamonds. Fertility dragons of the night they disguised them selves with the image of light taking the spirit and blood creating a vessel of holy water. Knowing Xenu would soon come looking the created the tree of life and on it grew beautiful apples that would sustain Xenu from processing their thoughts and discovering there secrets. Cleverly they created a force field around the planet earth so no matter how hard they tried they wouldn't be able to physically get through the gateway. So the two lovers fell asleep restless from all the creations underneath the tree of life Xenu approached sending off massive currents trying to break mother earths atmosphere they awoke. Watching the lovers pick the apple from the tree Xenu observed. As made man ate the apple of knowledge his memories of where immortality was hidden forgotten. In order for them not to diminish completely, woman held the power of knowing. Two parts inside of there vessel so Xenu would be unable to take over their existence un able to scan the keys of there mind all at once. There souls would possess the knowledge of power and there mind was a map for the fountain. The knowledge of life layed secretly deep within mother earth and sin was created to guard the secrets within. The stories of how they came to be rest with their other plane of existence. As moments were born time progressed they awoke out of there slumber and grew thirsty and hungry. As Xenu watched un able to break the force field, they observed man drawn to their halographic vision of a beautiful goddess the lady in red. Woman penetrated the hypnotic vision and handed man the apple they lost their knowledge of youth and man beared a mark, the mark of the beast the adam's apple. So they went on living there lives under a magnascopic view of the Xenu. Xenu knew they would have to move on so they they created technology and unleashed it upon the earth in hopes that human's would be tempted to repeat history and spread pestillin that evolve attacking there genome so they could return at a later date to assimilate them.
Adventually humanoids four fathers were able to claim war against the Xenu defeating and shuning them out side of the two galaxies for good. Free to travel space they were able to observe us from them the home land through a dwarf planet that a was attached to our solar system, the portal led into our atlantic seas. Coming in a samilar form from our own but some what different we claimed war with them dividing our species. Leaving very few of our ancestors realizing they had to abandone there kind on our contaminated planet to fened for our selves.
Trapped inside our fible bodies possesing the power deep in our soul to become a part what we know as heaven the Divine Matrix...
A heavenly Instance of creation and beauty and all that is great and powerful, and connected!

immortal existence

From the silence which covers my
immortal existence,
beyond the conscience of soul,
there rises the power which let me cross
the magic path.

There, the wind tells to be my allied
and the universe brings to my spirit
its ancestral blood,
impregnated in eternal knowledge.

"Oh power which keeps the universal energy,
cover my spirit with your eternal flame! "

Oh olden warrior, you who keep
the ancient wisdom,
bring me the conscience
of this immortal existence!

Oh Mother Earth!
Make scream your mountains
with your olden drumming,
that it sound goes high
for the sky
follows with its thunder!

Follow this hymn which rises
from deep inside of myself!

Let this war poem
remind the wisdom
of my immortal existence!..

Multisensory Humans

MultiSensory Humans

/--------------------\

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

\Self Attainment/

Evolution Community Efforts

/Bring Meaning to Life\

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||

Creations of Humane Tapestry

\---------------------/

/Utopia\

Divine Matrix

/Soul Searching\

|||||||||||||||||||||||||

\------------------/

ClairVoyancy

What One is Certain of...

Well I' am certain that I will leave this body one day and go to my plane of a higher existence for I have already felt it and been there and it is wonderful. What I' am not sure of is if these people around me will make it there. Or if that even matters. Sometimes I feel like I' am constantly dreaming like Princess Araura in Sleeping Beauty. Awaiting for my Royal Prince to come sweep me off my feet. When I' am sleeping I feel more alive. Maybe because there are no pressures while I sleep and I' am not confined inside spaces, with walls or windows, and doors.

Sometimes the largest battle wounds come from self worth, and can not be cured by self-worth. We look to others for self recognition,affection, attention, and influeance, these are all vanities of humanity. Let's look beyond the exterior of our vessel where our souls reside. Heaven some call it, I call it Utopia but when inside our bodies it is called Euphoria. It's like forgetting you know and astro gliding inside time and inside space. One with ourselves, and one with God.

What is so bad about taking a moment to stop focusing on our history books and really listening to the message. Inside of the bible it says Jesus died for our sins. Well what if that is it. We built the babylonian wall so there for we are unable to pass through. If everyone could just put past there religious beliefs because we should all believe in our own way and come to peace with ourselves. Be honest entirely or even just take a moment to realize how lucky we are that the world is not such a bad place, our fellow neighbors could be at ease.

The essence of life is our souls, who we present our selves to be is our disguise. What on denies about themselves conjures negative thoughts and fantasies. Temptation is how our conscious survives, and not a toy form the devil. It gives the ability to recognize right form wrong.

To praise the Lord is to not believe in your self. Stop Idolizing, and love yourself, so others can love you. Knowledge comes from our experiences and widom comes from lessons our soul. Peace is the Power to heal and Open your eyes!

Was it not Jesus who said, "I' am just a mortal man the lord created me as a mirror image of himself, to teach of his ways".

Sh*t Show

Chapter 19 of the subgenius

[from Chapter 19, "The Book of the SubGenius"]

 DOCTORS FOR "Bob" will themselves explain what they are on one condition:
just send them some of those Oh-God-all-my-internal-organs-are-bring-ripped-
out-my-throat-one-by-one-Ers AND some no,-dear,-I-don't-think-I'll-be-going-
to-work-to-morrow-ers, AND some King-of-Norway-coming-all-the-way-to-Dallas-
just-for-the-opening-of-Norwegian-Day-at-the-Texas-Fair-ERS. That's right,
just take those pills and throw 'em in the mailbox; you don't need an
envelope, you don't even need a stamp; just toss 'em in that mailbox and
*think* North Little Rock, and they'll get 'em. AND HERE'S WHY: The King, the
King of Norway, most feared continent on the globe, is indeed coming to
Dallas; the very MONARCH of the land of WOTAN, he who serves the Northern
Fathers who slumber beneath the glaciers, *The King* is coming, the very sword
of Odin, the mighty Switchblade of WODEN; DOCTORS FOR "BOB" must be *there* on
that acre of land of the State Fair where the King of all Norawy as some of
the most disgusting freaks of America, who are on display for *money*, we MUST
see that the King is not offended or assassinated while in Dallas, we will be
his personal servants and bodyguards, we will become like army ants which bite
onto each other's limbs to create a living SHROUD of bulletproofness *around*
the King, OH TAKE ME, Fierce Bullet, TAKE NOT the King whose sword serves
Odin, split My cranium and splatter my brains that he my live /and that I may
not EVER have to "EXPLAIN"/ either Doctors for "Bob" or Puzzling Evidence or
LIES or any of the other quasi-SubGenius affiliated organizations which make
the inexplicable SubGenius World Conventions, and the Tape Network, what they
are, OH PLEASE, Brave Bullet, split MY left and right brains down the middle
that the great Sceptre of the King not be prevented from leaving his Seed of
Yetidom across the Northern Plains, sacrifice ME that he who is the crowned
leader of the land of Ymir the Hoar-Frost Giant not be *shaken* in his
meditations, OH KING, we have prepared *The Hill of Foreskins*, our widows
cry, they weep as they burn that great Pile of Sheaths we have given *for
thee*; OH PROUD AND BRAVE BULLET, find NOT your target the Liege, OH ODIN,
take literally my request to KILL ME, /that I may never have to describe the
indescribable schedules of events at SubGenius Revivals;/ O Stout and Noble-
Hearted Bullet, reverse thy perfect Course, O Horizontally-ravelling, Pope-
hatted Messenger of Death, whose *steel-shod testicles* are *potent* with
History, O Bullet of Northern European Heritage which is *destined* to start
World War III no matter what the Runes Writ in the Skull's Eyes may say, we
will AID THEE in thy path of destruction, and urge ye to DO WHAT THOU WILT, so
long as ye harm *not* the King and not *allow* us to "pretend" to describe the
scene at the last Convention when the Patriarchy of the Church was physically
thrown off the stage by the women of the Church who grabbed the mikes and
forced men to strip and marry one another; O Pill-Taking Bullet, which no
drunkenness can divert from thy staid course, we shall encase our meager
bodies in coats lined with pill-bottles that they may deter thy thirsty Aim
and satify thee by thine entering of our carcasses; O Metal-Gonadded Slug,
whose trajectory can be tainted not by intoxication, STAY US from telling of
the unspeakable death of Sterno in the first ten minutes of the DOCTORS FOR
"BOB" concert and his subsequent resurrection by the Head by the Head by the
Dominatrixes, which preceded the /Launching/ of said Head (and its false decoy
brother of latex), resulting in the False Head being ejaculated by the
radisson Hotel itself out the fire-escape and across the street onto the roof
of the building next door during a game of Golfer Head Disco Soccer, from
whence Buck rescued it by scaling the building with a rope in the dead of
night while the Doctors lay on the floor of their room and pondered how the
sacred PIE PIE film had been lost on the 13th floor of a hotel /which had no
13th floor;/ OH KING help us to recover this sacred Super-8 film from the
heathens who have defiled it, this film whose scenes *change magically* from
showing to showing, perhaps, some day, to show /THE TRUTH???!?/ OH KING of
Norawy whose ancestors begat the Viking explorers who left broadaxes across
North America to puzzle the archaeologists, and who had the sense to leave
this land, from whom descended the blonde denture-creme smiling people of the
TV screen who act out the inane video hieroglyphs of the Gods, o ye great
Aryan Stud-Lord of Norway, ODIN, who hath been depicted in *Thor Comics*,
*Tales of Asgard*, o YE who cannot be defeated by Loki, O KING, ye who /ARE
the hearty Bullet/ which would pierce *thyself* and /ARE the *Gun*/ which
would shoot that selfsame Bullet FOR NO OTHER REASON than to relieve of us of
the hellish duty of describing the Mass held on November 22 at Dealy Plaza in
Dallas where the SubGeniuses crossed swords with assassination buffs of lesser
creeds and where the great Evidence of the demon Uberbrow was unleashed
against those who framed our friend Lee O., O Light-Hearted Bullet, O Wise and
Compassionate Bullet, O Bullet of Love which hath been used in all great
Assassinations, O Bullet of Understanding, O Bullet of the eternal orbital
plane around the planet which is called won by the yearnings of psychotics, /O
SEED BULLET/ which brought good-bad life-death to Earth and shall remove it in
the end, /O EGG BULLET/ who is the Mother of All Bullets, which with thine
iron-sheathed testicles did birth all the Race of Bullets, O Votive Bullet
whose bowels of gunpowder cannot be exploded except by the Pin of the Hammer
of Thor Himself, WE BESEECH THEE, divert thy path from the King and into MY
Heart, that he *not be startled* and that the intense 3-day "be-ins" and
"freak-outs" which are SubGenius World Parties not be defiled by impure
Description; happiness will depart from Earth forever if we are forced to do
such a terrible thing as to describe the Head-Launchings or the Healings, or
the paranormal dancing of ashtrays or the nameless force which jumps from one
participant to another, causing them to Spout in Tongues; O All-Knowing Bullet
who delivers the Final Answer to All Philosophies, whose wisdom is the only
Unquestionable Wisdom, o Hollowest of Hollow-Points, whose nothingness
encompasses the Universe, O Most /Logical/ Bullet, rip MY /\/; torture ME in a
Guatemalan prison camp for TEN YEARSlest the air around the King be
*disturbed*, lay thine jolly Cattle Prod against *my* genitals that none of
these may happen, let my *entire body* be converted to a wall of membranous
/nerve/ connected to a brain whose only function is to /feel PAIN/ while a
/flame-thrower/ is placed against that wall of membrane LEST a breeze of a
temperature even SLIGHTLY uncomfortable for the King exist *anywhere* on the
planet, Steel Pellet, *pee not the King's ass*, who can use /Ymir the Hoar-
Frost Giant/ as an /icecube/ in his /Nestea/, "BOB", the question isn't *what*
they are but *how* and *why* is DOCTORS FOR "BOB"? WHY did over 40 people
"become", uninvited, "Doktors for "Bob" " at each Convention? Was it because
`doktor' is a generic term for anyone who plays joyously that instrument which
he *cannot* play? If so, they are Doktors *from* "Bob" and *of* "Bob" but the
fact is, Doctors FOR "Bob" is really some kind of bodiless entity, some kind
of nameless FORCE that's beyond any of us... you could only ask *IT*, the Drs.
for "Bob" *Force*, what it is; you can't ask Janor or Sterno or Drelloid or
Snavely or Bill or Ringo or the others, because they have nothing to do with
the transmissions that are received through their vocal cords; Even the Bullet
knows not, even the King knows not. We call to thee, O Bullet, to give a two
hour speech to thineself in midair!O Steel-Clad Friend, strike US that /we
never again speak/ of the unlabeled capsules with which Pastor Naked pelts the
crowd; O pointy-headed, O Speedy Pal, o Virtuous Dum-Dum of my bosom, O Flying
Penis, O Fertilizer and Ventilator of Great Men, O Great ER-Ridden, Wind-
Riding *Steedless Flyer* whose preordained trajectory we pray to change
*anyway*, O Brainless Warrior, O Farmer of Kings' Blood, O Driller of Flesh, O
/Slug/, if ye choppeth down the King in the middle of the State Fairgrounds
and only Helen Keller is there to hear it, *was* there a Doctors for "Bob"
concert? O Happy, Impudent, Lead-Wearing Nudist, O Barer of the Brains of
Presidents, O Manual Do-It-Yourself Exploratory Brain Surgeon, O Journeyman
into Thinking Organs, O Dauntless Projectile of Odin's Wrath, hear my plea,
that I might not discuss the Media Barrage tapes sold by the SubGenius
Foundation, and inspired/co-created with Puzzling Evidence and others, for the
spectatcularity thereof would only be sullied by any attempt to reproduce them
on paper; O He most smited upon by the gods though Clothed in Blood upon
Exiting the Heads of Presidents and Monarchs, O Ye Deity of Lead, O Ye Slug of
the Elder Gods which shatters the wrists of state governors, O whistling Pied
Piper, O Fluting *Pan* of Lead, /sing not thy song/ unto the King but
/instead/ unto Doctors for "Bob" that we not inadvertently taint the glory of
the over 80 songs about "Bob" and the other Space Bosses which exist on those
Media Barrage Tapes; O Robin Hood of 44-Magnums, let we poor Doctors be the
"Rich" ye rob of tissue and the King be the beggar ye award mercy, that the
reader realize the incomparability of the Tapes and Songs and the Divine
Wellmanization thereof EXCEPT to this very excuse not to compare them to
anything; O Spinning Missile Whose Kiss Is trampled in the 10-watt light of
our Quills; O /Innocent/ Bullet, O /Guilty/ Bullet, which art thou? How can we
presume to judge? We stand to receive thee, we who are of but flesh and
understand not the way of the /Lead-Clad Ones,/ we of the inferior Flesh-
Encladded Clan, we are but *gasses* to thee, ye pass through us as we pass
through the stale vapours of fat Texans which befoul the air through which
will stride the Emperor of Odin-Land! Once can speak of "Bob", one can speak
of Slack, of The Conspiracy, for any fool *knows* they are beyond words, but
to even BEGIN to lower /the Living Church/ to /description/ would be to tempt
the reader to think he *understood* it without "seeing" it; this would be
FOLLY! "Bob" knew that to describe the Living Church would take 10,000 volumes
to be presented in truthful incoherency, to do less would be to invite the end
of all life on Earth, so we were *shown* the way, we were taught by default
that the Bullet, because it has no sex, is the Perfect Teacher. We were meant
to sidestep the issue until we realized the issue could ONLY be presented
*through* sidestepping, and THAT is the Way of the "Bob", or KILL US and HIM:
four guns surround the head of "Bob", they fire and the head implodes and the
four executioners are also killed simultaneously deep inside that cave-tomb;
the deaf-monk outside, *who must not hear the shots*, simply /"knows"/ somehow
that the deed is done, and he gravely rolls the great stone over the cave
entrance and seals it forever: ANYTHING to avoid /explaining/, ANYTHING, even
/killing "Bob",/ for after all is not "Bob" the gun anyway and YOU the Bullet,
slamming into ANYTHING at 186,000 inches per second, EVEN "Bob's" head, in
order to sanctify the fact that the Bullet IS the One God who cannot be
questioned *more than once*, /the Gun is the One World Religion/...
*Perchance*, Mighty Sir Bullet, I might make a suitable *Target* that I might
not have to defile the reality of the Church's living members? Perhaps my
humble flesh might make an acceptable *umbrella* for thy Rain of Lead? It's
the only logical way, it makes PERFECT sense, it's the only possible correct
substitute for explaining the unbelievably important but compex /Time
Intersection/ which this Book is too short to do, /YES!/ It is inescapable, it
was all *meant* to happen, fate decreed every step, every iota of activity by
all SubGeniuses has led to THIS MOMENT YOU ARE READING, and /NOW/ - /*YOU MUST
DIE*/. Well, no, just kidding. But it was a lesson: when we quit seeking the
answer we found it; we have reached the Buddha Nature, we have Achieved The
Form, reality was inverted, we all became Bullets, /HOW CAN YOU BE READING
THIS???/ It erases all you have read in this Book so far, WAIT A MINUTE, /MY
GOD, WE'VE BEEN FOOLS?/ It *wasn't* "Bob" that was the One True Lord, NO! /It
was the Bullet!/ No, wait, that's not right... it was the /Head, YES, THE
HEAD!/ - no that can't be right. /"BOB", "BOB", TAKE MY MIND!!!/ Ah yes,
that's better, "Bob", you speak with TOTAL AUTHORITY, we will again follow you
nywhere, unquestioningly, for /YE/ are the Bullet, O "Bob", ye ultimate /lead
sexual organ/, *raoe* not thy Sister the Hem of the King's Robe, tarnish not
her virginity, instead force *us* to write the chapter by night *without our
own knowledge*, /IT WRITES US/, WE OURSELVES are sent spinning towards the
head of the King... whether we shall splatter it or not we shall find out in
the NEXT Book, it all builds to a horrendous knowledge of everything at once,
which equals nothing, which penetrates, slowly yet instantly, the skin of the
forehead, then cracks through the skull, drilling, then starts to spin as it
swims through the brain mush... YES, "Bob" is God's way of "coming", and the
real DOCTORS FOR "BOB" and all the other doktors and saints and popes and
ministers and even schizmites are the Seed which Spreads the Plasmate of
Information of Freedom, because the Doctors killed "Bob" *first*, and they saw
as very few do that "Bob's" grin, while innocent-looking, /also implies a
hellish ultimate horror;/ it's the insane yet *knowledgeable* grin not unlike
that of a /skull/: WHY DO THEY GRIN LIKE THAT? *Do they know something we
don't?* Are they making up for lost time? Is it someone's sick idea of a JOKE?
Perhaps it is all of these, but it *definitely is* the Doorway to the perfect
Money-Making Formula, the one-image equation for eternal /Slack/, but more
important than even *that*, do you know where I could get me some of them
ANSW
   -ERS?


revival

                 __  /\
                                 |__| \ \        :
                _____ _____ _____ _____> \____ __|__ _
               |  .  |   __|  |  >  |  |  >   |  |
    ---===[    |    /_   __|    /|  |    / _  |  |__      ]===---
             __|__|__|_____|  _/ |__|___/__|__|_____|
               |           | /      |         |     :
               .           \/       .         :     .
                                              .
                          -     WAR!     -

                         _____/\ _____/\  _____/\
                         \  ___/ \  ___ \ \  ___/
                          \/ \   /\/   _/ /\/ | \
                          /  /  /  |\  \ / /__|  \
                          \  \  \__|/\  \\____   /
                           \_/    Y   \_/  Y  \_/
                            Y     !    Y   !   Y 
                            !     :    !   :   ! 
                            :     .    :   O   : 
                            .     .    .       . 
                            o     O    o       o 

                          Tha Ruthless 0rganization

babybabybabybabybabybabybabybabybabybabybabybabybabybabybabybabybabybabybaby
babybaby       yba       aby      byba       abyb     byba          babybaby
babybaby  bybabyba  babybaby  byb  yba  babybaby  byb  yba  ba  ba  babybaby
babybaby       yba  babybaby       yba       aby       yba  ba  ba  babybaby
babybabybabyb  yba  babybaby  byb  yba  babybaby  byb  yba  ba  ba  babybaby
babybaby       yba       aby  byb  yba       aby  byb  yba  ba  ba  babybaby
babybabybabybabybabybabybabybabybabybabybabybabybabybabybabybabybabybabybaby


Living in such a state          taTestaTesTaTe           etats a hcus ni gniviL
of mind in which time         sTATEsTAtEsTaTeStA          emit hcihw ni dnim of
does not pass, space         STateSTaTeSTaTeStAtE          ecaps ,ssap ton seod
does not exist, and         sTATeSt        oFOfOfo          dna ,tsixe ton seod
idea is not there.         STatEst          ofoFOFo          .ereht ton si aedi
Stuck in a place          staTEsT            OfOFofo           ecalp a ni kcutS
where movements           TATeSTa            foFofoF            stnemevom erehw
are impossible                              fOFoFOf              elbissopmi era
in all forms,                             UfOFofO                 ,smrof lla ni
physical and                            nbEifof                    dna lacisyhp
or mental -                           uNBeInO                       - latnem ro
your mind is                         UNbeinG                       si dnim rouy
focusing on a                       unBEING                       a no gnisucof
lone thing, or                      NBeINgu                      ro ,gniht enol
a lone nothing.                     bEinGUn                     .gnihton enol a
You are numb and                    EiNguNB                    dna bmun era ouY
unaware to events                                             stneve ot erawanu
taking place - not                  -iSSuE-                  ton - ecalp gnikat
knowing how or what                 #######                 tahw rp wph gniwonk
to think. You are in                --oNe--                ni era uoY .kniht ot
a state of unbeing....                                   ....gniebnu fo etats a

--SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB--


             TYM - Taking Your Machine

                                PRESENTS


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        \/___/\  \___/   \ \   \  \ \     \\     \  \ \  \___ /
             \ \  \       \ \   \  \ \  \\    \\  \  \ \   __\
              \ \  \       \ \   \  \ \  \ \__\ \  \  \ \  \_/___
               \ \__\       \ \___\  \ \__\/__/\ \__\  \ \_______\
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        _________    ______     ________             _________
       /\   _____\  /\  __ \   /\   __  \           /\   ___  \
       \ \  \___ /  \ \ \/\ \  \ \  \_\  \          \ \  \_/\  \
        \ \   __\    \ \ \ \ \  \ \      /           \ \  \\_\  \
         \ \  \_/     \ \ \_\ \  \ \  \\ \            \ \   ___  \
          \ \__\       \ \_____\  \ \__\\_\            \ \__\_/\__\
           \/__/        \/_____/   \/__//_/             \/__/ \/__/

  ________    ___   ___    ________   _____    ___    ________   _______
 /\   ____\  /\  \ /\  \  /\   __  \ /\    \  /\  \  /\   ____\ /\   ___\
 \ \  \      \ \  \\_\  \ \ \  \/\  \\ \  \  \\ \  \ \ \  \_ _/_\ \  \__/
  \ \  \      \ \   ___  \ \ \  \_\  \\ \  \\  \ \  \ \ \  \/\_ \\ \   _\
   \ \  \____  \ \  \_/\  \ \ \   __  \\ \  \/\  \\  \ \ \  \/_\ \\ \  \/__
    \ \______\  \ \__\\ \__\ \ \__\ \__\\ \__\//\_____\ \ \_______\\ \_____\
     \/______/   \/__/ \/__/  \/__/\/__/ \/__/ \/_____/  \/_______/ \/_____/

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