Books

Oklahoma City

The Haunting


I was traveling down the street to my alma mater. It was a school that had now been destroyed by the tsunami. The library windows were shattered and things were torn to pieces. I was pleased to see that efforts were in effect to restore the library and a clean-up process had begun. Dad had his shot gun and mom was in the passenger seat. There was a historical archeological cave close by that has been closed to access by raiders and such. But, I being a former student knew another way of entrance. The path was narrow and it was pitch-black outside. On each side of the passage there were cut-offs. If you fell then there is no telling how far you’d drop until you ultimately faced your death. As we were accessing the alternate path, I peered over the edge. It was as if it was eternal abyss. It gave me chills up and down my spine. “There! I think I found what we’re looking for!” My father shouted as he hopped off the ledge onto another to hack into the wall. We were searching for something that only a few individuals knew about. Myself, in particular knew of hidden treasures and others only thought there were bones of ancient civilizations.
I sat my pack down on a 2-feet boulder and then I saw through the boards that were placed to deter anyone from entering, light peeking through. I heard a group of people chattering.
My dad looked at my mother and I and motioned us to hide. He pulled out his shot gun and waited. As I tip-toed to duck behind wreckage from a previous cave-in I remembered I had a hand gun in my pack. It was too late. I was shaking there crouched and sweating from being scared we were going to be killed.
As the infiltration closed in on us, one noticed my pack. “What do we have here, eh? A compass, a hand gun, water cantons and oh... a map.” said the man.
“A map? What would someone need a map for? There is nothing in here?” asked another. “This map says there is gold. But why? Let’s find these explorers who are in classified territory! They haven’t a right to be in here! Let’s kill them!” Exclaimed the third man.
I mustered up all the strength I had in me and I pushed them off into the chasms, one after another.
My parents were no where as I went insane. No way they would take our map, our gold or our lives!!!
As I watched their bodies disappear into the darkness off the edges, I heard a guttural scream that resounded into the depths of ever nook and cranny. I looked behind me and up in the air was a figure floating and flying right towards me. I heard momma scream, “ Run! Run with everything you’ve got!”
I ran down the narrow path in hopes to not fall into the pits on both sides then I saw the ghostly figure prevailing before me as it was gliding on out of the cave.
I came to a sudden halt.
Once again I reentered the waking world. It was just a dream. I’m safe.

Magma makes every moment matter. Create digital, mini-magazines to share your life’s greatest experiences.

Read to find out — @undefined's mag on Magma

Oklahoma City, OK 73107

Arrived and Taken
Chapter One: It Begins

The drops pounded onto the windowsill. Ever since last summer the window has leaked. With the blackness of the night sky, the lightning would rage out against it. I focused on trying to rest but the reverberating thunder boomed at the glass. Another night without rest. This insomnia has flourished in a way I wouldn’t consider inspiring. Nevertheless, I still seem to acquire strength to get through the blazing summer heat. Eventually I must get up from this bed and do something to occupy this analytical mind of mine. But how? The thoughts race and the emotions linger.
My being is desolate from social interaction that would traditionally over-stimulate my nervous system. I have thought of going on a journey to the lake cabin my father owned once again, then I sip my chai tea and watch the grass and flowers wither in the fire of the sun. I have pondered many times if my brother or sister will ever visit. But then I bear in mind that we made ourselves estranged to one another. I’d like to envision that they haven't forgotten my name. But alas, I was the youngest child and they expressed to me that I was the idolized extension to the family. Yet, sissy and brother were held in high regards to those who knew us. I was the destruction of this family. The dysfunctional child whom everyone was repulsed by. To say the least, I’d like to think, I was the one who questioned parliament and societal paradigms . Furthermore, I was the individual perceived as an outsider, as if I had been switched at birth.
The thunder clapped against the thick air wall of humidity. When will my life of savage conditions ever ease up? Oh, to see all things for what they are and still be deserted. I have lived in this one-hundred-year-old house since my parents passed away in 1921. I miss them profoundly but yet since the passed on it has been a life of solitude and natural peace for my soul. I still think of the fond memories I retain of them.
A clearing began in the shattered sky as I glared out the window that began to fog from my breath. It had seemed as if another scorching day was on the brink of existing. I held a feeling of unspeakable remorse for the thought of sweating in the vegetable garden. The tomatoes have sweltered for the billionth time. I go out and skulk at them as I pick them off the vine and toss them aside. “Good grief!” I shouted at the ravens in the oak tree, as they begun to fly off. Will I ever be able to become something other than an old man sitting in his rocking chair on the cobble stones outside of his dilapidated house?
Then I saw upon the road leading to the town nearby, a horse and wagon with a man and woman. Who could be coming to view my devastating home or my pitiful existence? As they enclosed the vicinity, I could see who the elderly man and woman were. “Joseph? Marilynn? Is that you? Why are you here? What do you want?” I questioned the couple approaching.
Then I heard the distinct voice of my older brother Joseph ran out and landed into my ear, “Matt, it is Mary and me. We’ve come to take you away from this disconsolate abode of yours.” Marilynn interjected, “Matthew, dear, you are coming with us. Prepare your belongings.”
My eyes flooded with the salty tears as I said to them, “What do you mean? It’s been... It’s been centuries it seems since I have seen you two? Why are you here really? Do you want to lock me away again? If that is what you’ve arranged, then I’ll take care of that right now! You, see? I am not going back to that pit of despair with you! I am fulfilled here! You see my gardens?”
As I ran in to get something to defend myself with, I heard another abrupt sound off in the distance. I geared my eyes towards the road to see the authorities coming to capture me. Was this in all in head again? The horror I experienced made me think they had finally left me alone. But not for a chance. I’ve been set aside to suffer because I challenged the world and its ideologies.
“Matthew, please, don’t hide from us again. We will find where you are, just like every other time. You have nowhere to go, and we know what you have done to mom and dad.” Marilynn tried to coerce me to come out so they can bind me for life until my death would be declared to the entire countryside. They had me in their clutches once again and I was desperate to do anything, but what could I do this time? With exasperation all over my face I came out of the pantry where undoubtedly there wasn’t any food. This was my fate, my destiny, and I had no other choice but to go with them and face the gloom that I became aware was filling my spirit. “Matt, when we discovered what you did to them, we came immediately. Do you even realize what you’ve done? You are a murderer! We were astonished at this tragedy, but we had an inkling since you were the only one within the home where they laid covered in their own...” Jospeh was speaking but I interrupted, “I didn’t do a thing to them. I treasured them and yet I was insignificant to all! How could you think... How can I be the one to be victimized by your own deeds, brother?”
“Matthew, it was you and don’t be in denial because of your hysteria!” Marilynn was relentless and her voice put a fear in me I had never imagined occurring. The ideas bulged in my brain, and I couldn’t bear the thought of ending the precious lives of mom and dad. I wouldn’t hurt a fly, but yet here they were with the accusations that made me question my memories and reality. Oh, clouds that cleared the sky, I had a hope that happiness would come but once again I am in chains.
The authority came and took me by rope around my wrists and I was boosted into the cage I was once in of historical circumstances. The uneven road seemed increasingly extensive than I had contemplated. My thoughts begin to swamp my psyche and I erupted into trembling.

Chapter Two: Journey to Confinement

Encaged and roped at the wrists I begin to drift into a potent feeling of misery. My heart was shrinking in my body and I began to think, “Is this going to be foreshadowing my imprisonment for the volatile transgressions I never committed?
“Come here, you scum!” the guard shouted at me as he drug me out of the iron clad cage. “We are taking you somewhere you can’t hurt anyone again.”
I began to groan and cry out “Joseph, Marilynn, you know I never hurt mom and dad!!! Stop this! Stop what you are doing!”

Novel in process about an elderly man who was abused by his siblings and taken into captivity because of false accusations. — @undefined's mag on Magma

I was riding with Pops on highway 73 with the wind in my hair. I had my arm out the window and my hand was biting the air. I remember when times were peaceful and carefree like this. It was 75°F outside and I felt as if nothing could go awry. That’s when we hit something that flew out of nowhere. The fragile little car flew into the ditch on the side of the highway and my life was flashing before my eyes. What I didn’t configure at the time was that my pop’s life was being decimated at that very moment. The vehicle came to a halt, and I peered over to see Pops evaporate before my 7-year-old deep blue eyes. I ejected my seatbelt and managed to climb out only to collapse onto the muddy ground.
I turned around to capture the wreckage behind us as I witnessed something that appeared to be a puppet. What was a puppet doing in the devastation and why was it running for its life? I couldn’t fathom why a puppet was at the scene nor could I grasp why it was running! Puppets aren't alive and I thought I knew what I had heard about them. They are material objects and are playthings for children and such. Right? Perhaps I was hallucinating from being in shock.
Swiftly, emergency medical services arrived, and I witnessed the paramedics and firefighters struggle to get my pops out of that demolished miniscule car. I couldn’t utter with my mind what had just occurred and why was there a puppet fleeing like his life depended upon it? My memory was faltering more so over time.
I continued to see this puppet as I grew into my 20-year-old self. He would crop up in cafes and movie theaters. My life came near to an end, more than just that Sunday afternoon on highway 73 with Pops. I seemed as if I was headed for death, but I couldn’t figure out why. But each time I got close to being sent to the afterworld, I would capture that goofy puppet right after I would get off my face and wipe the sweat and dirt off of my forehead.
Now I was on an assignment to muster up courage to entrap said puppet. I remembered his eyes and how they bulged out of his fuzzy, wool head. And how the yarn for hair was a bright neon green. His apparel was like he was a walking anachronism. Suspicious to say the least, in my honest opinion. However, I could never recollect why this puppet emerged after every near-to-death event of my life. I named this puppet a name I could identify with: Mr. Quiggley. It seemed like a good name for something or someone I had so many inquiries about.
I went to the local sporting goods market on the corner of 50th and Squishire. I bought myself binoculars and other useful items such as a pocketknife, magnifying glass, and hiking boots. Now that I think about it, I didn’t require the hiking boots for this mission but regardless, they were on clearance, and I thought it a steal!
I was in pursuit. Sitting in my pick-up truck on the street of Mourforth on the west side of town. This was a particular location where I seemed to be targeted the most. In fact, the local town construction still didn’t repair the concrete curb that I rammed into with my last vehicle. It was initially annihilated seeing as they made everything in this town with frugality.
Then instantaneously, Mr. Quiggley was in proximity. His beady eyes were fixated on me. He knew I had my eyes pinned on him as well. He began to shriek! Once again, he fled the area. Only this time, a man who looked to be my age was following after him and he had a peculiar weapon in his right hand. They flung themselves onto a motorbike and rode off into the distance.
Alright, what had just occurred? Who was this man? He looked bizarrely familiar to my young 5-year-old self. His eyes were a hazel-green, that is if I can recollect well enough. He was wearing a black leather jacket and pale tight-fitted jeans. At the moment, this was all I could remember.
The journey continued in search of these indisputable criminals. I knew from the moment I spotted the weapon in his hand that he was an enemy. But what had I done to him, or this frenzied puppet? After the first traumatic collision with Pops my mind would black out and I would space. Everything before that event is fuzzy at even spectacular moments.
After Mr. Quiggley and his accomplice jot off on the motor bike, I jumped out of the pick-up and went into the ally they emersed out of. Then there it was, a wallet lying on the asphalt. I had their identity in my grasp at this point. I unfolded the worn black canvas pocketbook and to my surprise and confusion it was my kindergarten rival, James Markey. The memories flooded my mind as I dropped to my knees and began to weep. One memory in particular I remember socking James's right in the left eye and his glasses broke and the glass punctured his eyebrow. Now it made sense why he was there with Mr. Quiggley. But why was this mysterious puppet with my kindergarten target of all my incessant bullying? I felt grief for the puppet, and I was determined to find out the answers to my every question.
I thought about James that night and I knew that I was his adult hood prey. He obviously had a vendetta out for me after I belittled him every day at school. But what could drive someone to destroy another human or employ a puppet to be their partner in crime? It seemed as if Mr. Quiggley was being used by James to do his evil bidding.
My quest had changed at that point in time once I came to this revelation. My new assignment: avail Mr. Quiggley from the wicked clutches of James Markey. I know after I free the melancholy puppet from James that I would be greeting an even more excruciating death wish. But I was determined. Mr. Quiggley was being tortured to perform such perfected schemes. I had to do something and something quick.
The next morning at 0700 hours I was wide awake after the alarm buzzed throughout my flat. I combed my hair and put on my over coat and went out the door. I walked to the thrift shop to buy myself an undercover outfit. I was walking where I was going now as I feared getting into any sort of machinery.
The thrift shop had just what I needed. The black ninja look arose into the moment as I stood there in the fitting room in my black sweats and black stocking cap. Then there they were! The black sunglasses without a scratch on them. They were mine!
I smiled as I exited the building with my new-found disguise. It was an adrenaline rush to buy things that were necessary to keep me safe and concealed. I was into success, and I could feel it. Would I receive an award or a trophy? Nah, most likely I would not but it was a glorious sentiment. Right?
It was 2100 hours on McFeary Street. I was camped beside the dumpsters, and it wasn’t a refined position to say the least. The Chinese restaurant’s back door kept slamming open against the brick wall and the chef threw out customers leftovers into the dumpster. I have to admit, the aroma made my stomach rumble. I hadn’t had a bite to eat since that morning, but I was relentless. I wasn’t giving up on what I was meant for. But the thought of injecting Chinese noodles and beef made my mouth salivate. No! Resist Michael! You can do this!
Then there they both were. Mr. Quiggley’s beady eyes and James in that torn leather jacket. They were walking down the sidewalk. I knew James had it out for me and was in search of slaughtering me by another turbulent attempt at destruction. “Not this time James!”, I shouted in my thoughts.
I picked myself up off the ground and jotted behind them as a discreet spy like I had seen in movies. I was close behind them both and they turned into a corridor on the left. It was getting easier to pick up their scent. I felt like a wolf in the wilderness searching for its next meal to devour. Then I shifted my focus into getting Mr. Quiggley into his liberation. The view I had of myself as a wolf then transitioned into a detective searching for a young child in the hands of a kidnapper. I was going to be a hero, wasn’t I? Or was I setting myself up for impending doom? At any rate I was still doing what I set out for.
It just so happened that it began to storm. The wind was rushing into my face and the temperature was dropping. I had to find shelter but was this all a set up? Did James lure me into this? Did he know that the weather would get me spooked? I had a gut feeling that this was all a deviated plan. He knew I was onto them, didn’t he?
I became more aware to me that he was a master at this, although I was still alive and breathing. Considering he hadn't achieved his desire to eradicate me, there may be a shred of hope. I was resilient now, wasn’t I?
I hadn’t scoped out the notorious motor bike as of yet, but I had a feeling it would be coming into my view. James would have devised a clever way of escaping once again. I was proportionately dumfounded when James stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around and looked me dead straight in my eyes. I was in for another shock when he shouted at me, “What are you here for? To hit me in my eye again? Well, you little!! I don’t have glasses anymore, you, see? I have sought you out since that day you humiliated me in front of Abby May. I was infatuated with her, and you ruined me for the last time! So, com’on now! Let’s do this right here, right now!”
I stiffened my upper lip and sweat dripped and clanged to my brow. I squinted my eyes and said to him with all fiber in my being, “You let Mr. Quiggley go! He doesn’t want to do your disgraceful injunctions anymore! Let him go! He’s innocent! You’ve made him your clown!”
James looked at me puzzled now and asked me, “Who is Mr. Quiggley? This is George, my best friend since I was 3 years old. My mum gave him to me after I turned 2-years-old. He is all I’ve ever had after my mum and dad died in a dispute over my uncle. I was detrimental to me since then. Please...”
I stopped him before he could continue, “James, are you all alone without, uhm, George?”
“Well, I guess so.”
I persisted, “Why have you been using, uhm, George to get to me and murder me?”
He began to stutter, “You, you, ruined my life! I was getting to know Abby May and she liked me. I think, uh, uh, please, I need George.”
Then I made an offer to James and George that I never thought I could muster up, “James, how ‘bout you and George come and stay the night in my flat and I will prepare a meal for you. It’s okay, I am not going to sock you upside your eye again, ha. Come now.”
James and George looked at each other perplexed but they shrugged their shoulders, and we walked in the dreary rain to my flat to begin a friendship that would last the rest of our lives.

A mystery of a puppet used to destroy a kindergarten rival. — @undefined's mag on Magma

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Mental Health

Filmmaking

He requested my presence at some Airbnb he had rented for the next few days and sis made a run for it like Gabrielle in the olympics. Fixed dinner cleaned the house washed clothes and worked my shift before packing my bags. Hell my children are 17 and 10 within the privacy of our own home so I dipped. Via route 1 and 113 I make it to the house and little after midnight yet before quarter after.

Excited for my arrival said in the calls yet the lack of movement he displayed with assistance of my bags was in the negative, dude didn’t lift A finger until I lift my wrist as I made a signal for him to grab this. Hell I could have waited until the morning for this type of treatment, at least by then I would have had myself entirely together and not half ass. Either way I was there and no turning back at least not for the night. He showed me to the room and unbeknownst to me we had our own private bathroom which was a pleasant surprise.

As I begin to unpack my things I grab my phone to check the alert that had came through while I was trying to find the house. The text tore through me like a Vulture on dead flesh my eyes immediately filled with tears, my heart with grief and my lungs with cries. Once the sound pierced my ears I snapped back and closed my mouth, didn’t help as the moaning was a sound as well.

Aunt Anera had passed away. My heart was hurting. Good thing for the bathroom I reached for my towel rag and soap and made my way to the shower. Felt like it took me forever to get there. I held the towel to my mouth to muffle the cries. I started to rethink all over again, why I was there.

Freelance writer
Like love subscribe — @undefined's mag on Magma

Silent fights and solo flights
New heights
New life
Birds chirping, incense burning
Refa flowing, a steady motion
My daily potion
Free as the breeze that blows
Shedding layers just as quick as the trees that blow in an autumn breeze
New life is here 
Being birthed
Birthed of the natural

<h1>Let it all work out</h1>
It’s hard to climb a ladder with someone at the bottom kicking at it
Causing it to be unsteady 
Making you all panicky and nervous
Imagine that person being your partner
Young bitch so hype for a man done signed yourself up for some dumb shit
Blame myself for this one
Been sitting round here trying to take this pain like a G
Done turned me changed me 
Now he mad at me
“Too much like me” 
Is what he says
My demeanor so cold he thinks I’m trying to bump chest
Excuse me sir im a lady

<h1>Stop clock</h1>
Time is of thee essence! Don’t put off until tomorrow what you can do today! Dream big work hard, your word is stone, don’t miss dates with those important to you or work/school related. Be ever present and remain steadfast
Steadfast in life
Steadfast in love
Steadfast in trust 
Work hard pray harder
Time is of thee essence don’t put off until tomorrow what you can do today.. Your presence is in the flesh here and now.

<h1>Domestic violence</h1>
Bigger than someone putting their hands on you!
Verbally killing your pride ego or self esteem 
Estranging you from anything that will help remember your name or from which you came
Fellas today love to play the blame game
Make babies and lay the burden on the momma for producing the seed
If it starts at day1 it will be there for the days to come
Domestic violence is much bigger than a physical thing
Killing the spirit
Killing the esteem 
Killing a person and not in the physical is extremely dangerous and is the worse form of domestic violence there is. 
If you are suffering from going through or know someone who is help pray them through. The strength is in numbers

<h1>Sideshow</h1>
A pain that is unreal 
👍🏽 
A hurt not needed to be inflicted 
On a life…. A life that obviously wasn’t on meant to be
Bring a baby home to me or
My family 
of 4
Is now plus 1 more
Ha 
Yeah this life is no more 
All locked doors and no you can’t have a key
Not to a motherfucking one pertaining to me
There is no we

Calm streams
Can be heard falling from the sky 
Puddles start to form
 Day showers 
The sky is bright from the sun
Flowers bathing in both
Nature again brings life
Rain drops fall bigger and harder
At a more rapid pace 
And the puddles, some have grown to the size where they look like lakes
You can view the rain drops falling gives the water a sort of wave forming
Lightning strikes across the sky
And a breeze blows through the kitchen window. As I stare out into the parking lot at what Mother Nature is doing. 
Sounds of rain beating on an empty flower pot can be heard atop the rain hitting the ground

Read like love subscribe — @undefined's mag on Magma

Blogging

Culture

Sensations
Blissful feelings or thoughts there of

 I opened my eyes and there you laid directly next to me eyes shut in the most relaxed state. You looked peaceful, I tried not to bother you although my love language got the best of me. You opened your eyes and I asked how you got into my home. You opened the door for me when I called he said. I leaned down to kiss our lips and the universe exploded. There were stars and fairy dust all over. Every action that came to follow my body had been yearning for. We touched, kissed and orgasmed our way to ecstasy and you stayed the course. “I know you missed this dick” you whispered as I mounted you trying to insert that dick in me as you simultaneously flipped me and without a try inserted me. My back arched instantly even from the missionary position we were in. We jumped around on that bed for hours or what seemed to be. when I woke up it was only me, no signs or traces that you had ever been there, we were in another realm making each other holler😩

<h1>Bridges burned </h1>
Lighters and matches oh my

I have crossed some bridges just as I set the flame 🔥 
before moving on I’d always stop and speak intentions into the flame, 
most for the future. 
I’ve buried some stones and some 
other things I won’t name.

<h1>Last of a dying breed</h1>
80’s birthed me 90’s raised me

I could chew you up In a post for the world to see. Tag ya handle so there’s no misinterpretations of me talking behind your back. Good thing for you is I ain’t built like that! For certain that’s no bad thing standards are a must. They tell the story different when they are healed is what the post said as he was leaking his own blood all over hims mommas tiled basement floors. Steady poking at folks indirectly in the blind spots where he think they can’t see. I vibrate higher I am more always at the top peering over. Thank God this shit is over.

<h1>Sensations ✌🏽</h1>
These feelings be feeling

Now just me being up at this hour! 
A couple shots of royal and quarter L later 
La la la la
All American and commercials
I’m feeling like this is rehearsal 
A flic of the bic and a prayer to the flame
A hit of the flower that intoxicates my brain
Numbs the pain 
Story here
Work I know doesn’t make it a story
It’s the glory….
No victim it’s the victorer
Means the one that holds the title
Means the one that over came
Steady crying dead and broke figured out how to be the money and the power
Mind in motion head steady focused 
So much movement don’t know what to do what with it
Too personal
Bad connection or is it perception 
Such a big deal why not take a photo to help reflect it

Silence is needed
Sshhhhhhh


Shhhhhhh
There’s a noise that plays in my ears every time you come near
Reminds me of the sound that played on the television in the wee hours of the night when I was a little tike 
Can’t hear much else
Blocks out all the thoughts that ever were there in the first place
There’s this noise 
And it’s starting to make me annoyed
Can’t hold a thought all on count of it
Much rather do without it
Could care less then to be annoyed 
Time to dead the noise

Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@benjeeeman?utm_source=magma&utm_medium=referral">Ben den Engelsen</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/?utm_source=magma&utm_medium=referral">Unsplash</a> — @undefined's mag on Magma

<h1>In Dr Rigneys book</h1>
“Darwin’s Challenge answered” 
He very impressively, disproves the theory of evolution, through seemingly obvious encounters, proving two things. One we could better ourselves as a society, if we would ever so simply cease believing every word we hear through media and again ever so simply ask a question for ourselves and think about the problem ourselves first, before jumping to whatever so and so,s conclusion was, whatever it may be, if we as a society could do this, we would be much more self reliant and far more intelligent than we now. 
And two, of course the obvious one, disproving Darwin’s theory with ease. 
In fact part of the reason why it was so easy to disprove Darwin’s theory of evolution, was the theory was never complete from the start, a theory is supposed to solve problems not make them, so when you have a theory that raises more questions than explanations, it’s either a poor theory or a incomplete one, and should never be taken as fact until it can withstand any challenge brought upon it.

Darwin’s theory answered, by my eye doctor Dr J Rigney  — @undefined's mag on Magma

@trinajerry's mag on Magma

Business

Events

Movies

<h1>The Corporation vs The New Corporation</h1>
<h2>What makes The New Corporation an unfortunately necessary sequel?</h2>
Q: When is a sequel even more, Unfortunately Necessary?
A: When it takes a Book, a Film, and a Deep Conversation with the Author, led by a top Canadian Journalist, to encourage us to seek answers to some of today’s most important moral and ethical questions that affect our day to day lives as consumers, employees and shareholders sharing this planet, our home.
The Vancouver CHW Book Club was privileged to offer North American’s an exclusive opportunity to be part of a conversation with Joel Bakan, an internationally recognized and award-winning author, producer, law scholar and teacher who has worked on landmark legal cases and government policies. Due to popular demand, viewing of the recorded talk between Joel and moderator Adam Elliott Segal will be available by tax deductible donation for you and your family, indefinitely. 
For Canadians only, the film is now available on Crave tv for a limited time. The film will be released into US theatres and is available online through CoolWorld for groups, educational license and individuals. 
Books are available for sale through our order form in Canada until June 5th. After that buy through Penguin RandomHouse, Amazon, local bookstores and as e-book.
This special event, in concert with the film and book, will thoughtfully inspire all ages who want to ensure a better tomorrow for ourselves and for future generations. 
Please share this opportunity to create meaningful discussion. We encourage you to submit any questions and we will try to feature them.
Email: <a href="mailto:chwbookclub18@gmail.com">chwbookclub18@gmail.com</a>

Joel Bakan is a professor of law at the University of British Columbia, and a legal scholar and commentator. A former Rhodes Scholar and law clerk to Chief Justice Brian Dickson of the Supreme Court of Canada, Bakan has law degrees from Oxford, Dalhousie, and Harvard. A frequent recipient of awards for both his writing and teaching, Bakan has worked on landmark legal cases and government policy, and served regularly as a media commentator, appearing on national television and radio. He is a popular and accomplished public speaker who has addressed business, government, academic, and activist audiences in Canada, the U.S. and abroad.
If you have not already seen the film or read the book, The New Corporation, or the original The Corporation, we encourage you to do so at some point. The film was long- listed for an Oscar and the book is currently up for the BC and Yukon Book award. What is necessary, is to get some important insights into the green-washing of “new and presumably improved” Corporations. We need to understand what we can do as individuals and what really constitutes “fake news.”
For more visit: <a href="http://www.joelbakan.com/">http://www.joelbakan.com/</a>

<h1>The Book: </h1>
<h1>The New Corporation: </h1>
How ‘Good’ Corporations are Bad for Democracy
The world has changed a lot since 2003 when The Corporation: The Pathological Pursuit of Profit and Power pulled back the curtain on the real costs of the corporate entity and the holy grail of shareholder value above product or service, its employees, customers, or location. Political, social, and environmental disasters including the current Coronavirus, laid bare systemic inequities and a looming global crisis of epic proportions. 
To appear relevant and current, big business slyly rebranded themselves as The New Corporation; socially conscious and purposeful superheroes ready to do battle often by masquerading immoral corporate actions and power grabs dressed up as saviors to pressing social initiatives. 
Bakan’s The New Corporation takes a scathing look at the whole ‘doing well by doing good’ movement, exploring how companies insidiously position themselves as ‘good corporate citizens’ without acknowledging the damage they cause.
Meanwhile it takes students like Greta Thunberg and Malala Yousafzai and locally, Western Canadian activists like Tzeporah Berman, Politicians like Chief Judy Wilson and Elizabeth May and more recently, after the book and film, passionate young men and women like Nova Stevens, the current Miss Universe Canada, who came to Canada as a refugee at 6, and helped get Emancipation Day recognized in Vancouver, and Canada. Globally, grassroots citizen movements were born or re-invigorated to address issues like CEO compensation in the face of huge gender and racial disparity, climate, food security, housing, aging and health care that can no longer be ignored. Even the very concept of democracy is in question given the combination of corporate and governmental global actions and inactions.

Here’s a <a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.ca/books/621948/the-new-corporation-by-joel-bakan/9780735238848">Clip from audiobook </a>

<h1>The Film: The New Corporation: </h1>
The Unfortunately Necessary Sequel It literally took the pandemic to unwrap a wrap for this film, as it became unfortunately, an even more necessary sequel than Joel Bakan and Jennifer Abbott could ever have imagined given the additional gamechangers of the end of the Trump term, US election events and COVID-19. The New Corporation traces the devastating consequences of a world perilously close to losing its foundation of democracy, a world remade in the corporation’s image-split between the primary responsibility (by definition) to the shareholder’s interests and the public good. Bakan and Abbott graphically connect the dots between then and now, including the cataclysmic changes within the timing of the making of the film because according to Bakan, of the “ways governments and corporations responded to it hit upon just about every one of our themes – privatization, economic and racial injustice, corporate greed.” Its final cut did not just leave us in despair but rather inspired us to keep forcing accountability with stories of resistancew we and change from around the world that demands both a thriving public and private sector.
Bakan added, “It’s really interesting to see how corporations – especially those that purport to embrace purpose and sustainability, ones that say they care – have pushed Trump to be even more Trump-ish. Major US corporations at the helm of the ‘new’ corporation movement continue to lobby for tax cuts and deregulation that disable governments from promoting the very social and environmental values they purport to care about. We allude to this in the film, andI provide chapter and verse in the book. So, yes Trump has given more carte blanche – but big business has pushed him to give even more than he might have.”
The film shows how corporations have become skilled at “camouflaging their activities, dressing up in shades of green and paying lip service to diversity and innovation.” The book and film could easily spawn many more necessary sequels while delineating a bird’s eye view of these chaotic times. The onus is thrown back on us to make the necessary connections and to actively seek meaningful solutions if we want to leave our children and grandchildren a real future.
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<h1>Meet our Moderator</h1>
<h2>Adam Elliott Segal</h2>
Asked why Adam was excited to moderate Joel’s talk....
“Presenting Joel's book and film, The New Corporation, resonates with me personally. All Canadians should be deeply concerned with our relationship to government and business and the ethical crossroads we find ourselves at in a technologically-driven world that rewards private companies at the expense of the individual. 
How we chart a path forward in the future following the pandemic is inevitably up to us, but Bakan's book illustrates ways in which we as individuals can monitor and protect the environment, keep corporations in check and remain diligent and determined on a local and international level to providing a better future for the next generation”.
You will really appreciate Adam’s approach to moderate the discussion from some very unique perspectives.

About Adam
Adam Elliott Segal is a writer, editor, journalist and author. Winner of the 2020 Toronto Star Short Story Contest for his story “Burning” and nominated for a 2020 National Magazine Award for “The Dahlia,” he has published award-winning work in leading Canadian magazines and newspapers over the last two decades and lived and worked in Canada’s three largest cities. Passionate about social justice and social issues, he has written about black market adoption for Maisonneuve, genetics and DNA for This magazine and his byline has appeared in the Globe and Mail, the Vancouver Province, Reader’s Digest, enRoute, Chatelaine and VICE. 
He has held editorial and administrative roles at Hot Docs International Film Festival, Sportsnet, Spafax and holds a Combined Honours Degree in Comparative and English Literature from the University of Western Ontario and diplomas from the Humber School for Writers and the Ryerson Publishing program. Originally from Vancouver, he lives in Toronto with his wife, and their cat, Cleo and now, his most creative work to date, his newborn son, Jonah.

Learn more about Adam Segal:
 <a href="https://www.adamelliottsegal.com/">https://www.adamelliottsegal.com/</a>

<h1>Don’t miss this extended opportunity. </h1>
<h2>Replay of interview will be available indefinitely by tax deductible donation. Don’t miss out!</h2>
The must-see documentary of the year" FORBES
A very important book: an arresting study directed to a central issue of the times.” --Noam Chomsky “Impeccably researched and beautifully written.” --Wendy Brown “Vital reading for all who are concerned to protect the public good, life, and freedom.” --Vandana Shiva “A rigorously argued manifesto against corporate capitalism.” --Kirkus Reviews

Here are interesting production notes:
Ten years after the release of The Corporation, which remains the most successful Canadian documentary ever made, The New Corporation’s genesis rose from an initial meeting in January 2015 between Producer Trish Dolman and members of the team behind the original 2003 film about the possibility of a sequel. Producer Betsy Carson joined the team that same month and Writer/Director Joel began writing the treatment for the sequel based on ideas he had been formulating for his follow-up book The New Corporation: How ‘Good’ Corporations are Bad for Democracy. 
Research, development, fundraising and preliminary interviews took place from January 2015 through 2017. In 2017, Associate Producer Dawn Brett-Hauschild joined the team to secure the core interviews for the project and director Jennifer Abbott (co-director and Editor of The Corporation) re-joined the team as Director and supervising editor. With extensive and ongoing research completed and development shooting secured, and DOP Ian Kerr on board, principal photography began in early 2018 at the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland. 
Filming took place for the next two years around the world at the following locations: Vancouver, BC Berkeley, CA Boston, MA Los Angeles, CA New York, NY Portland, OR San Francisco, CA Seattle, WA London, UK Brussels, Belgium Davos, Switzerland Nairobi, Kenya Barcelona, Spain Sydney, Australia. 
Post-production began concurrently with filming. In 2018, editor Peter Roeck came on board to help craft Joel’s treatment into a feature documentary structure. Sound Designer Velcrow Ripper and Composer Matt Robertson worked closely with the editing team throughout 2019 and 2020. Principal archival researcher Kate Lingley sourced more than 1100 clips for the film over the 2 years of the edit. The film was completed in mid-August of 2020. 
Interview Subjects included Anjali Appadurai Chris Barrett Heidi Boghosian Wendy Brown Lord John Browne Ada Colau John Coyne Peter Dauvergne Richard Edelman Marshall Ganz Angelo Gavrielatos Anand Giridharadas Bibop Gresta Juan Gonzalez Nick Hanauer Michael Hardt Chris Hedges John Hepburn Vallerie Keller Sanjay Jain Murrawah Johnson Sam La Rocca Abrahm Lustgarten Elizabeth May Shannon May Ray Madoff Paul Mason Heather McGhee Stacy Mitchell Sandra Navidi Grand Chief Stewart Phillip Joseph Stiglitz Diane Ravitch Robert Reich Michael Sandel Kshama Sawant Klaus Schwab Dr. Vandana Shiva Wilson Sossion Dr ha-Hong Sun Jonathan Tasini Robert Weissman Micah White Chief Judy Wilson.





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<h1>Our Deepest Gratitude</h1>
Words cannot express our appreciation to Joel Bakan, Adam Segal, Cool World and Penguin House for allowing us to bring this exclusive opportunity to offer such an important book, film and discussion to a broad audience. The ability to ask direct questions to Joel is unique, and we already have received thoughtful submissions from some well known names in the fields of environmental stewardship, business and entertainment. Yours are welcome as well. 
They say it takes a village. In our case, this took a loyal book club with a cause and a dedicated committee. Special kudos for the incredible hard work of our Co-Chairs Bev Corber and Marilyn Hooper as well as the Vancouver and National office staff including our new National Director, Lisa Colt. 
To each of our sponsors and patrons listed above, we are grateful beyond words for your support and what it will mean to Children and Women at this time. 
Special thanks to our previous book club featured authors, Don Chapman of <a href="https://lostCanadian.com">The Lost Canadians</a> and <a href="https://YouTube.com/user/SpriteCan95">Mozhdah Jamalzadah</a> , the Oprah of Afghanistan, with Author <a href="https://LinkedIn.com/in/robertastaley">Roberta Staley</a> who told Mozhdah’s story in ‘<a href="https://greystonebooks.com/products/voice-of-rebellion">Voice of Rebellion</a> ’. Their passionate determination to help others effect big changes on a personal and national scale, set a high bar, making Joel Bakan’s global sights set on the biggest corporations, a perfect progression. 
Canadian Hadassah-WIZO (CHW) is a non-political, non-partisan national network of dedicated volunteers and professionals who strongly believe that the advancement of childcare, education, healthcare, and women’s issues transcends politics, religion and national boundaries.

<h1>Randi Winter: </h1>
<h2>Facilitator/Social Entrepreneur</h2>
It is an gift to be able to combine my passions and purpose in reading and writing, creating and curating content, researching and interviewing as well as mentoring and volunteering to further engage (or entice) you to be part of Joel Bakan’s insight as a law professor, author, film maker and illusion breaker. Wherever you live, it is impossible to ignore the effects of politics, the pandemic and personal vs corporate responsibility. 
I am proud to be an early supporter and adopter of new digital technology, like <a href="https://www.magmanow.com">Magma</a> . It is one way to ensure equality of opportunity for us all to tell our stories quickly, easily and armed with nothing more than a cell phone and an idea. 
Wearing any of my hats in the travel and event world, <a href="https://www.thep2plife.com">The P2P Life </a>, my work in the non-profit 501 (3) c world <a href="https://www.diabetesandme.org">Diabetes and Me</a> , writing for <a href="https://www.luxebeatmag.com">LuxeBeat</a> , being a co-author in <a href="https://freshmag.ca/category/pursuit-365">Pursuit:365</a> and my years of being part of an active CHW leadership team gives me opportunities to be a facilitator, connector, and problem solver in words, thoughts and deeds. 
I’d love to hear from you after our event, and your thoughts on this new publication.

Ask Joel Bakan Author, Filmmaker, Law Professor, why The New Corporation is an Unfortunately Necessary Sequel book and documentary on May 30th. CHW Book Club presents Joel in discussion with journalist Adam Elliott Segal.  — @undefined's mag on Magma

Beverly Hills

<h1>What You Missed While Blinking</h1>
It’s finally here.
I had dreamt of this moment for months and as much as I had prepared myself for it, the experience has surpassed my greatest expectations.

<h2>Seeing people hold my book in their hands for the first time is a feeling I can’t explain with words. </h2>

<h2>My heart races, my cheeks warm up, and my whole being fills up with love and gratitude. </h2>

<h1>My favorite part is signing each book.</h1>
My second favorite part is mailing them out and envisioning tiny sparks of light being sent all over the world.

First time author feeling many amazing firsts. 🤍 — @undefined's mag on Magma

4 Privet Drive

<h1>“Words are, in my not-so-humble opinion, our most inexhaustible source of magic.”</h1>
<h2>“Capable of both inflicting injury, and remedying it.”</h2>
<h2></h2>
Dumbledore in The Deathly Hallows

<h1>“But you know, happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if only one remembers to turn on the light.”</h1>
<h1></h1>
Dumbledore in The Prisoner of Azkaban

<h1>“You’re the weak one. And you’ll never know love. Or friendship. And I feel sorry for you.”</h1>
<h1></h1>
Harry Potter to Lord Voldemort in The Order of the Phoenix.

<h1>“It matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be.”</h1>

Dumbledore in The Goblet of Fire

<h1>“Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living, and, above all those who live without love.”</h1>

Dumbledore in The Deathly Hollows

<h1>“We’ve all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That’s who we really are.”</h1>
<h1></h1>
Sirius Black in The Prisoner of Azkaban

<h1>“It’s a curious thing, Harry, but perhaps those who are best suited to power are those who have never sought it.”</h1>

Dumbledore in The Deathly Hallows

<h1>“If you want to know what a man’s like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.” </h1>

Sirius Black in The Goblet of Fire

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