Rebel Tunes!

Rebel Music   One thing I love is music. I mean I absolutely LOVE it. Beyond love. I know I’m far from the only one, but I felt the proclamation necessary anyway. To me, music makes the world go round and I firmly believe that often times you are one good song away from turning things around if you let it work it’s magic (and also know what kind of music moves you… very important!).Another thing I believe is that music can make or break a good workout, which is why we’re here right now; to refresh your music player!

What I want to do is post a playlist of songs my personal music player that ridiculously rev me up and/or are proven bootcamp smashers! Like I said above, finding what kind of music moves you can be tricky and sometimes takes a lot of checking! You won’t like ALL of these songs (some of you will like NONE of them, a reality I sadly yet completely accept :D). Some of these are good cardio pacers while others are meant for that moment when you’re trying to get ballistic in a workout… and everything in between.

Click on the song, take a listen, and if you like it then find a way to get it! I’m merely exhibiting songs I think are awesome workout tunes, not providing you with the song itself (you’ve got to roll up your own sleeves and figure that part out yourself). Sure, some of you are going to know every single song on here and for you, eager reader and avid music lover, I give you a gold star!

Gold star

A gold star for everyone who can’t wait to tell me that they have every single song I posted on their iPod and that I need to put up better music. There’s always at least one… So here ya go!

I plan on making a “Rebel Tunes” music section on here with updates every 1-2 weeks, so be on the lookout! Also, coinciding with the launch of the 15th Rebel challenge “Big Top Battle: Cirque De Rebellion” starting February 16th (orientation day aka MY BIRTHDAY THAT I SHAMELESSLY PLANNED THE ORIENTATION ON SO THAT I CAN SAY THAT ALL I WANT FOR MY BIRTHDAY IS FOR YOU TO SHOW UP TO REBEL ORIENTATION… BLACK LIGHT ORIENTATION… BIRTHDAY!!!!!) I’ll be giving out the completed, recorded version of my song from the video below so be on the lookout for that bit of eccentricity as well!

Angel Haze – A Tribe Called Red
3OH!3 – Touchin’ on My
Machine Gun Kelly – Invincible
B.O.B. – Paper Route
John Newman – Losing Sleep
Kings of Leon – Coming Back Again
Bassnectar – Pennywise Tribute
Natalia Kills – Mirrors
Biffy Clyro – Picture a Knife Fight
Grouplove – Chloe
Asher Roth – G.R.I.N.D. (Get Ready It’s a New Day)
Down with Webster – Time to Win!
Krewella – Alive
Drake feat. Travis Barker – Forever (Travis Barker Remix)
Sleigh Bells – Crush
P!nk – Timebomb
Tech N9ne – The Beast
Avicii – Hey Brother
Yelawolf feat. Kid Rock – Let’s Roll
John Legend – Who Did That to You?
Rev Theory – Hell Yeah
Spiderbait – Black Betty

– Rebel8

Chapter 8 – A Soul to Hold Them

Chapter 8 - Experience

Chapter 8 – A Soul to Hold Them

As the Rebels marched forth through the Dominion of the Nome King they carried with them a collection of half understood dictation from an unknown stranger known only as “R8” as well as a heavy burden on their shoulders… Almost as if they were pioneers of an undiscovered frontier without quite fully grasping the magnitude of their exploits. With a bit of anxiety and a whole hell of a lot of pride, the Rebels carried that weight of responsibility with the trust that this “R8” would continue to guide them through. Whoever they were, they had obviously been down the very rugged road they found themselves on. How else could this person know so much about why they were there, what they were looking for, and where they were coming from? All too often instincts are dismissed as dangerous whims that will inevitably lead us to trouble… but what if they’re REALLY flashes of Morse code straight from the Universe trying to tell you where to go in the hopes that you’re listening? Either way, this “R8” was on to something…

                Keeping tight knit as a group like an army of Spartan Warriors, the Rebels looked like a team of drifter fashionistas with their ability to combine rugged wear with chic execution. Clearly the Rebels were all from the same tribe but upon closer inspection you could see each of their defining characteristics on their sleeves like a lighthouse to the sea. You had Pete and his hammer walking in stride with Ruben’s tie-dyed Rock Republic uniform. Jamie and her rock hammer teaching Rick how to fix his bike with it. Suzanne and her two champion Shiba Inus, Buddy and Myra, sharing space with Tami and her black cat “Vigi-latte” as they both kept their eyes peeled for cowboys along the way (just in case). It was hard to pinpoint, but the rebels seemed to thrive off the metaphorical mass hysteria that the likes of dogs and cats living together brought about on this Rebel parade.

                Muscles were tight as the Rebels pounded the path to Emerald City with a gritty tenacity a lot of them had never felt before. Prior at the Post Office, everyone took pen to paper at the urging of the note they had found there and poured their hearts out with vigor. They figured that if there truly were other Rebels out their looking to make it as far as even just the few steps they themselves had made then it was worth a shot to help, even if it was a long one. After all, “it’s not about how much you give but giving what you can” one Rebel was overheard saying. Once they were done they folded up their notes, scribbled “Rebel” on top, and placed them in the empty cubbies blindly trusting that “R8” would deliver them to the “others out there.” Instincts… or Universe? They were putting their faith in both.

Chapter 8 - The Letters

                Not to be forgotten was the urging to gather supplies they didn’t need “for those who do.” As a group they agreed that it was pretty self-explanatory what was being asked, they just didn’t know WHY. Keeping with the notion of putting their reliance in the unknown the Rebels each went through their backpacks and knapsacks and set aside all the clothes, toiletries, and foodstuffs they truly didn’t need. At the urging of Tami and Leah, each Rebel carried a box or bag of the surplus goods as they all forged ahead. Many hands make light work. Better yet… One team, one dream.

Chapter 8 - Supplies Gathered

                After a few days of bear crawling, lunging, and damn near flapping their arms trying to FLY across the canyons and traverses they trekked up, on, around, and through the Rebels decided to set up camp for some much needed rest. They’d found that you can only keep pushing forward for so long until your weary body needs to recover. It’s not about how hard you hit but how hard you can get hit and keeping moving forward. Knowing when to shift down is part of that process, and gear back is exactly what those Rebels did. It was easy since they had ample camping gear to tent them all and provide shelter from any storm. It was a good thing they were all really starting to love each other, because although accommodations were enough for everyone to fit they were still going to resembl a pack of Rebel sardines. All they had to do now was find a safe enough spot to spend the night without stepping into hostile Nome King territory marked by precious metals and shiny jewels set out as a trap…

                The Nome King has a devious penchant for collecting “upstairs people,” essentially anyone walking the surface above the caverns, and doing nothing with them other than enjoying the ownership. The gems and metals were planted by rock fairies as a way to attract those greedy enough to dig deeper for more, eventually succumbing to sinkholes designed to imprison those searching for the “wrong treasure.”

                Using a binocular attachment she’d brought with her (which was no doubt going to come in handy in the future…), sweet Rebel May sat perched atop Justin’s shoulders as she scouted for clear space to camp lacking glimmer and shine. As they rounded a corner of stacked boulders in the shape of an “8,” May saw just the clearing they were looking for about 500 yards in the distance.

“I see a good area I think!” she shouted exuberantly as Justin tried to peer a little higher attempting to get a visual himself.

“Well that’s good… I feel like an Ant in need of sleep! No more ant hill…” Sebby said wearily with a smile, rubbing her courage charm that hung gracefully from her neck like an ornament of hope as she gazed at the ground in fatigue.

“Hey, keep your head up!” Surfer Cliff said cheerily. “I mean, I need you to drag my busted ass the rest of the way so you can’t go passin’ out on me just yet!”

“Yeah, and if anybody has any ‘Coorebels Light’ then maybe we’ll meet ‘Faluge’” Carlo muttered under his breath in reference to Cliff’s alter ego when he gets a little “too spirited.”

“You wouldn’t be lucky enough.” Cliff chuckled back as he slapped Carlo on the shoulder.

                With May still spying the potential landing spot she noticed a rustle of movement behind a massive boulder standing guard to an even sadder makeshift rock igloo. Supported only by its own weight and anchored down with dust and sediment, May spotted another “rock-gloo” camouflaged by another boulder disguising its presence. By the time she spotted a 3rd shabby structure, she saw a dirt-caked foot draw back through the opening as if startled. It didn’t take much longer for May to soak in the whole scene and realize the perfect shelter spot they were now 200 yards away from was littered with these huts made out of Boulders. Every time she blinked she had to adjust her eyes to see the structures right in front of her because the combination of drab coloration and sad tone caused it to blend in with the environment perfectly. Had May not been keen of eye, she might have missed it all together!

Chapter 8 - Rock Gloo

“Uh, guys… we’re not alone here…” May said while nervously stroking a malamute patch sewn into her purple clad collar in remembrance of her lost puppy.

                Stopping about a football field’s length away from the mysterious site, the Rebels pondered what to do. Who were the people they were stumbling on? Were they sleeping? Scared? Friendly? Violent? Angry? Evil? Harmless? All of the above? None of the above? After some brief and scattered deliberating, phoenix haired Cliff decided he had had enough. With the shovel in hand, he jaunted away from the group suddenly and meticulously, careful not come off as bum rushing this muted, dirty city of rocks. The rest of the Rebels hushed as the distance between Cliff and the first structure shortened quickly. Without even a hint of hesitancy, Cliff stopped his focused pace right outside the “doorway” of the first Rock-gloo and peeked in from the outside.

Chapter 8 - Rebels Scouting

                With the force of a shotgun blast a woman shot out from the entry way Cliff was investigating. Before he could put his hands up to defend himself she had a sharpened stick at his side and a silent, menacing glare deafeningly demanding who this “trespasser” was while breathing heavily and angrily 2 inches away from his face.

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Cliff shouted as he shot his hands up in an attempt to show neutrality. “We’re not here to hurt anybody, I swear…”

“Who ARE you? What business do you have here? How would you like it if I took a peek into your living room? HUH?!” The woman hissed, jabbing the stick harder into Cliff’s side.

“We’re Rebels!” a voice cried out from the group urgently running over to intervene.

                Keeping the stick firmly positioned against Cliff’s ribs, the rightfully defensive mystery woman darted her head towards the crowd closing in on them and put her free hand up sternly demanding “stop right there!” All the Rebels heeded the call, except for one… Annabel. She had barely spoken two words in the few days they’d be traveling but in this moment, as one usual does when it matters most, she had found her voice:

”We’re from the State of Rebellion. We don’t mean anything bad lady, we just… we’re tired, you know?”

                The woman’s grip on the stick loosened as she asked “You’re all the way from the State of Rebellion? No one ever ventures away from there… What brings you all this way?”

“Honestly, we don’t really know. We had this crazy blackout back at home and when it was over, there was a map and some other stuff that led us here. We found out there are other people traveling from far away too. I think we’re all trying to go to the same place.” Annabel responded earnestly, wearing her heart on her sleeve and a tear born of fatigue sliding down her cheek.

                The woman brought her arm down and slowly lowered the stick away from imminently puncturing Cliff’s lung at the falsest of moves. Her face went from wild and protective to worn and understanding in the blink of a hummingbird’s eye. She stared into all of the Rebellious eyes staring back at her in charged silence before she spoke.

“My name is Jane, and I represent lost souls of the Dominion. A long time ago, the Nome King decided to build an epic underground palace where he could admire all of his ‘collectibles’ and throw glorious parties with the rock fairies and stone sprites. Before we knew it, the Nome King had a brigade sweep through, capture, and imprison each and every man of the land to do his bidding and create his dream. The men who weren’t caught ran in cowardice and deserted their families. That left, well… us… We have little more than each other and what little belongings we could salvage…”

                At that, she fanned her hand out to hundreds of startled woman and children suddenly and slowly stepping out from the rock-gloos surrounding the Rebels, anxious to understand what was happening. They were huddled close, still not quite sure about these foreigners intruding on their home. For all they knew it was more Nome King trickery in an attempt to collect more slaves for his next ego-maniacal project consisting of Oz knows what. After all they’d been through they couldn’t afford to think otherwise anymore. These lost souls had found the universe has a seemingly oft cruel method of reminding them that around every corner awaits an obstacle to hurdle whether they’re ready or not. The solution? Always be ready, stick together, and love will prevail. Within these stone structures lived love born from struggle and they weren’t about to give that up without a fight if so be it…

                As the Rebels absorbed the moment with heavy hearts, one Rebel in particular figured something out before anyone else did:

“That’s it… IT ALL MAKES SENSE!” Stephanie gasped as her eyes diverted from the ground to the sky wit all faces directing their attention towards her in wonderment.

“Gather supplies you don’t need for those who do! We were meant to bring our extra stuff to these people! I KNOW we were!” Stephanie said excitedly, all the while nodding her head vigorously.

“She’s right… she’s absolutely right…” Kelly said as she clasped the hand of her husband Rick after setting her box of surplus down at her feet.

“What do you mean…” Jane asked cautiously, eyeing the boxes she now noticed everyone had cradled in their arms.

“Well… here. This is for you” Lori said as a single, solitary tear slid down the war paint smeared across her cheek. It wasn’t a tear of fatigue however but a tear of realization. There are no coincidences and the epiphany that THIS was the reason for escaping the monotonous and lame was game changer to say the least. The prize wasn’t at the end of the yellow  road… it was in the journey itself. It was this moment Lori’s circus brain brought up the location of where they were on the map like a wave crashing hard on the beach shore… This “R8” knew all along the Rebels would follow the map with gusto while simultaneously having no clue whatsoever at the enormity of the impact their actions would have along the way. No clue that is until right now…

Chapter 8 - Test of Heart

One by one the Rebels stepped up and handed their boxes to Jane as the crisp dusk air held the moment still like the sands of time had stopped falling. Once it was clear the Rebels not only meant no harm but rather brought with them survival goods that they were simply giving them out of love, the lost women and children rushed to give the Rebels a hug.

“Thank you so much…” one child stifled into Alyx’s hip after she’d received a box of her own.

“You’re so welcome little one.” Alyx said with a smile as the heat from her silent tears escaping fogged up her classes.

“Here you go” David said as he handed her his light blue handkerchief (inscribed with a “V”).

“Thank you sir” Alyx replied, thankful for the chance to clean up some of the unexpected waterworks.  

                As the last of the boxes were handed off, Jane shook her head in disbelief with a look of confusion emitting like a beacon. Before anybody could ask if everything was alright, she turned to Abbie and said “you know, the only way you’re going to believe what I’m about to tell you is because I have the proof a few feet away in my home there” as she gestured behind them. “Yesterday one of the girls woke up to go to the bathroom early in the morning, and when she stepped out there was a box with a note on it on top of her home… The note said ‘when they get here, give them these’ and I can only assume you all are who that crazy note was talking about” Jane said as her voice trailed off.

“What was in the box?” Abbie inquired, looking over Jane’s shoulder trying to catch a glimpse.

“I’ll show you, come with me dear…” Jane replied while taking Abbie’s hand.

As Abbie stepped foot into the small structure it was only a millisecond before Jane had the box in her hands and was prying open the top to reveal its contents. What Abbie saw confirmed what the Rebels were beginning to realize more and more with each passing day… That they were not alone.

Chapter 8 - Heart Charms

Within the box resided a red metal charm identical to the ones they’d found back in the State of Rebellion when they initially started this odyssey. Placed on top was a small placard inscribed with what could only be the next clue:

“You passed. The masquerade is upon you… Take shelter for now. – R8”

Banking on the trend thus far, Abbie flipped the placard around to see if it had any addition instructions on the other side like all the others. She wasn’t disappointed upon finding out her hunch was correct. However, she wasn’t very clear on what it meant, either…

Chapter 8 - The Glow of Emerald City

Coming Soon

Chapter 9: ????????

Challenge XIII: My Personal Letter

Heart of a Lion

I’ve tasked each and every one of you signed up for the current Rebel challenge to write a personal letter addressed to your future self 3 months from now to be turned in on Saturday, August 3rd. The goal is to author a time capsule of emotion, showcasing your fears and who you are NOW while addressing the person you envision yourself being 3 months from this point. Not only is the process very therapeutic but it can open up realms of your brain that have been holding you back for a long time… you’ve just never pulled enough courage together to run toward those things rather than running away from them. Here’s your chance. If realization of self worth and helping create an awesome experience for yourself isn’t enough incentive for ya, well then every letter turned in on Saturday is a dollar donated to CHOPS Teen Center. Jamboom.

I decided to share my own personal letter in the hopes that it will help some of you who might be in a rut about what to write about or are unclear on what is expected. Mine will be the only one shared. Once I get your letter I will lock it away for 3 months only to be brought back out on October 19th. I won’t read a single word of any of your letters. It’s for me, not you. There is no wrong way to write your letter as long as you are open and honest with yourself. These are MY fears along with my excitement and pride for where we are now. Thank you for your time :).

My Personal Letter: Part II

                Well, here you are big guy. Challenge number 13 is happening and like a freight train at full speed with no conductor there’s no stopping it now. That’s good though, that’s the goal. This train that is the Rebellion is a growing organism, pushing for survival beyond one person alone. You want to be lost among a sea of awesome people doing awesome things and this challenge will prove to be no different than the rest where that’s EXACTLY what will happen. It’s already happened. It’s happening!

                The last time you wrote one of these your biggest fear was that people won’t see it the way you see it and inevitably it will fail. The fall from Grace will always thrive quietly in the background of your circus brain but I think it’s safe to say that you can lay that fear to rest. Take pride in the fact that what keeps you up at night NOW is the excitement for where the Rebellion is going, not the fear of where it’s falling. I mean damn man… you got the biggest ballroom in Chicago to sound off and now you’ve been asked to lead a Rebellion chant for thousands on a Florida Island all because PEOPLE GET IT! The essence that makes this such a magical thing… the essence that you believe in to the depths of your soul and shout from the rooftops every chance you get… Well, it’s not just you anymore! the potential of the human spirit and what we all strive for as we steer the same boat only holding on to different oars is a beautiful struggle that not everyone gets the chance to experience as a tribe. This revolution has been a long time boiling and is bubbling over with the kind of organized chaos that only a ragtag group of bad news bears know how to lead. Simply put, the Rebellion cannot fail because you are no longer the only leader! That sea of awesome people bonding together and doing something legendary is no longer on the horizon, it’s here and NOW. The Rebellion and what it stands for has not merely left an imprint in its path, its Hulk smashed a crater and is growing every day.

                I’m proud of you. No matter how exhausting this journey gets, the hardships and tribulations that come with what you have chosen to dedicate your life to will always pale in comparison to the light that shines bright from positive seeds planted. To struggle is to learn and to pass on the knowledge of how to deal with that struggle is to help make the world a better place. Too many people are focused on how GIANT of an impact they can have and not enough people realize the impact we can have as individuals doing the best we can. The ripple effect that spreads from person to person has a greater impact than any individual ever could. Case in point if you were to try to wrap your arms around the world your reach only goes so far (your arm span roughly equaling your height according to Da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man) but if every human being joined hands we could wrap around that baby roughly 300 times. I’m proud of you for doing everything you can do spread that message. You’ve been effective, and that’s not easy. If it were easy though…

                You really bit off quite the mouthful with this challenge. Not quite more than you can chew, but if you were playing a metaphorical game of “chubby bunny” there definitely wouldn’t be any room left for even half a mini marshmallow to squeeze in there. By the time you read this again though, that means it’s done. The key to the city, the “test” bracelets, donations to Chops and the succeeding celebration, themed workouts, team song presentations, the Anytime Fitness conference… it’s all over and you’re still standing baby. You set your own bar high and now it’s time to breathe a big sigh of relief. You and the rebels earned it. Rule #8; Never Quit Fighting.

                I leave you (me) with a song that has pulled me (you) out of darkness many a time and has given an injection of strength when there was thought to be none left. As I put the lyrics down they are a lion’s roar of motivation. When you read them on October 19th, they will be the soundtrack to your victory lap.

There’s something in your heart
And it’s in your eyes
It’s the fire, inside you
Let it burn
You don’t say, “Good luck”
You say, “Don’t give up”
It’s the fire, inside you
Let it burn
Yeah, and if I’m ever at the crossroads
And start feeling mixed signals like Morse code
My soul start to grow colder than the North Pole
I try to focus on the hole of where the torch goes
In the tradition of these legendary sports pros
As far as I can see, I’ve made it to the threshold
Lord knows I’ve waited for this a lifetime
And I’m an icon when I let my light shine
Shine bright as an example of a champion
Taking the advantage, never copping out or cancelling
Burn like a chariot, learn how to carry it
Maverick, always above and beyond average
Fuel to the flame that I train with and travel with
Something in my eyes say I’m so close to having the prize
I realize I’m supposed to reach for the skies
Never let somebody try to tell you otherwise
One love, one game, one desire
One flame, one bonfire, let it burn higher
I never show signs of fatigue or turn tired
Cause I’m the definition of tragedy turned triumph
It’s David and Goliath, I made it to the eye of the storm
Feeling torn like they fed me to the lions
Before my time start to wind down like the Mayans
I show ’em how I got the grind down like a science
It sounds like a riot on hush, it’s so quiet
The only thing I hear is my heart
I’m inspired by the challenge
That I find myself standing eye to eye with
Then move like a wise warrior and not a coward
You can’t escape the history that you was meant to make
That’s why the highest victory is what I’m meant to take
You came to celebrate, I came to cerebrate
I hate losing, I refuse to make the same mistake

 – Rebel8, The Roots, & John Legend

Chapter 3: The Heart Felt Fallout

Chapter 3 - The Heart Felt Fallout

Chapter 3: The Heart Felt Fallout

                The State of Rebellion buzzed with unease as its inhabitants came from every direction to see what was going on in their usually unassuming place of residence. A dark cloud hung ominously over the mass exodus, shrouded in mystery as all eyes couldn’t look away to save their lives.

If only they knew the irony.

                As rebels far and wide huddled together in an attempt to calm their rattled nerves, the air was charged with an electric current using their bodies as conduits. “What do you think is going to happen?” a Demolitionist faintly asked a nearby Rock Republic member. “I have no idea, I’ve never seen this before…” was the response as the two divisions of the State nervously pressed shoulders together in a rare form of co-mingling. Usually both sides kept to their own, believing that “the grass is always greener on the other side” referenced the side OPPOSITE the other. No one could really give a concrete reason as to why each faction chose to snub the other, most of the time simply observing “that’s how it’s always been.” Sure, both sides had committed atrocities in their tenure as citizens living in the State of Rebellion but hell… we’re ALL Rebels, we ALL make mistakes… None of those mistakes mattered in this moment as new-to-each-other faces mirrored one another with little resolve and lots of worry.

                When the first boom sounded through the landscape it was felt… not heard. A thunderous burst coursing through the hearts and souls of everyone gathered bringing with it a stir of change felt deep within. A gentle hymn rode the wind as it picked up in time with the roar of the drumfire. Before the Rebels could register what exactly this cosmic melody was, a voice emerged from the zephyr. As cool as the breeze it traveled on it immediately occupied all in its auditory wake;

Steady now… Steady now…
Don’t fear what you can’t see…
Ready now… Ready NOW!
I hold on to you… you hold on to me…

I found the heart of a lion…
In the belly of the beast…
I held it in my hand… and I could feel…
I could feel…

… Feel the beat…

                With only the words they had just heard as a warning a swift darkness blanketed the Demolitionists and Rock Republic throughout. Devoid of all vision and lost in a world trying to crush them somehow, every person came to the same sudden realization; a midst the depths of confusion, fear, and chaos… all they had left was each other.

                As Rebels linked arms in a show of solidarity among everything around them seemingly falling apart they marched towards the music with purpose, compelled by something greater than they knew. “This way!” someone shouted as natural leaders took their positions. “I’m lost! I’m over here! I can’t see anything!” an anxious voice cried out as the human chain began to wrap around like a centipede in an attempt to wrangle the stray comrade. As the unknown straggler rejoined the survival driven Rebels a husky voice yelled;

“Looks like we’re not in Kansas anymore!”

The reference highlighted a particularly popular line in an Emerald City legend of a refugee by the name of Dorothy who saved the Land of Oz from an evil Witch from the North West. Even though the State of Rebellion was located just beyond the Nonestic Sea and outside the boundaries of Oz the story of Dorothy was an integral part of Rebellion lore. Whoever had yelled out the “Kansas” quip was almost certainly referencing the Tornado that mythically carried the outsider from “the Midwest” into the Land of Oz.

The thought somehow brought with it a strange reassurance… What was on the other side of this unexpected and abrupt departure from reality? Could the legend be real? Was a childhood story told for generations as far back as Rebels could remember much more than just a fun cure for boredom? The possibility that a fairy tale of old was a historical forewarning for this momentous occurrence swirling all around them was much more than the Rebels had time to think about however. Butterflies churned tsunamis in their stomachs as each foot strived toward the harmonious howl drawing them in like a gnat to a flashlight.

Without so much as a sneeze of a sign the gripping winds and ominous tune dispelled as quickly as they had begun. In their place was a blinding flash of light painfully forcing everyone’s pupils that had adapted to the nothingness to adjust back to the blue skies and rays of sunshine that once again overlooked the State of Rebellion. As everyone’s arms unlinked Rebels found themselves face to face with people whom they had lived in the same community with for years and years yet somehow had never even met. The sun cast a vivid new light on each rebellious face as passionate wonderment took the place of fear and anxiety. With the sudden blackout leaving with the speed in which it came, more questions were left than answered. Still, the Rebels felt a sense of… something… “The Divide” was gone. On the outskirts of the mass, two familiar strangers could be overheard greeting each other for the first time;

“Now that we’ve held on to each other in a panic and I’ve accidently grabbed your boob twice… Hi! I’m Cara!”

“I’m Erin… Nice to meet you Cara! That was crazy…What do you think is going to happen next?”

“I’m not sure, but something tells me that it’s going to be up to us to decide…”

– Rebel8

Coming Soon

Chapter 4: ???

Rebels Made of Brick: Official Roster

Welcome to the Rebellion...

Welcome to the Rebellion…

Rock Republic (Tuesday/Saturday)

Devin Medrano
Nicole Nelson
Mireya Perales
Lucy Perales
Cliff Durham
Rayray Ponce
Sandra Casey
Denise Stiles
Rita Colthurst
 Cassie Colthurst
 Ruben Martinez
 Malena DeMartini-Price
 Stephanie Stevenson
 Cliff Crocker
 Marco Avalos
 Alyssa Solberg
 Karen Solberg
 Maggie Schuck
 Lori DeMarco
 Jody Livingston
 Adam Gray
Kathi Tyler
Annabel Ponce
Angelica Ponce

Demolitionists (Wednesday/Saturday)

Tami Tuminello
Abbie Tuminello
Austin Finch
Suzanne Pelz
Pete Macias
Alyx J. Livingston
Jamie Bywater
May De La Serna
 Cara “Unicorn” Jones
 Lucy Avalos
 Nykky Graydon
 Justin Zuiderweg
 Carlo Piscitello
 Kaila Finch
 Leah Bayly
 Michelle “Hulk” Huntley
 Christine Routh
 Darlene Catania
 Sam Enos
 David Moody
 Kelly Moody
 Kelly Dawson
 Rick Dawson
 Cheryl Taylor
 Alaura Finger


Chapter 2: Misery’s Best Friend

Chapter 2 - Misery's Best Friend

Chapter 2: Misery’s Best Friend

                It was the puddle forming between his head and the pillow that brought John back to consciousness. His clothes were so soaked through with sweat that there was a human imprint on the sheets he would surely have to change again in the morning. For now, all he could think to do was throw his wet clothes in the corner with the others, put a couple of towels down, and hope for at least a half-a-blinks worth of sleep before the sun forced its way into his room like an interrogator inquiring as to why he wasn’t up yet. If John weren’t used to this nightly protocol he might be a bit more stressed about it. However, consistency is the friend of those searching for comfort (we’re creatures of habit after all) so all that was left for him to do was counting stars while sinking back into his vaguely damp bedding.

                John had always feared the night. Not because of the darkness (“Don’t fear the things that you can’t see” was his no-nonsense approach he’d had since a youngster) but more so the misery it always entailed. Making it through his daytime routine was easy! He loved putting on his apple red work vest in anticipation of heading to the laborious occupation he’d grown so fond of because it meant he had something to occupy his worst enemy; his thoughts. It also meant he had survived another nightfall. John had a mind that whirred at a thousand crazy miles per hour but because of his schedule and habit it was kept at bay like a dog with a steak chained to a tree. Once the day was done however…  that meant his “dog” was done with its “steak” and was looking for the next thing to chew on, which just so happened to be EVERYTHING.

                As he absorbed the obnoxious luminescence coming off the digitized numbers of his alarm clock John couldn’t help but do the mental math of how much time he had before getting out of bed became top priority. 45 minutes… 45 godforsaken minutes. Just under matching how much cumulative sleep he’d gotten to that point. “If you can’t beat them, join them” John thought. In this case “them” being the thoughts scattering through his head like Godzilla-sized cockroaches scurrying everywhere at the sudden shine from football stadium floodlights.

“You’ve got to get your oil changed. I know you haven’t forgotten, but it needs to be reiterated”

“You didn’t e-mail Jennesis back… Should you do it now or would it be weird when she sees the timestamp and realizes you’re some kind of red cloaked vampire…?”

“Did you know ET’s alien race is in the stands for the pod races for Star Wars: Episode 1 and that when ET sees a kid dressed as Yoda for Halloween he says “Home! Home!” meaning that ET and Star Wars exist in the same universe?”

“Do you think George Lucas is happy to have sold off Star Wars and the pressure is off him now?”

“Have you ever cooked with a pressure cooker?”

“Is Top Chef on tonight?”

“Did you text your mom back?”

“You didn’t do the laundry… now you don’t have the clothes you need for the meeting with the VP of the Demolitionist’s Union. Better come up with a ‘plan B’ so as not to come off as a Rock Republic Reject!”

“What ever happened to ‘The All-American Rejects’?”

“What if you blow the meeting with the VP… you could lose your job… you don’t know how to do anything else but work the quarry…”

“How are you going to go to sleep if your hearts racing like that?”

“You were a little out of breathe 5 days ago when you climbed that extra flight of stairs at the office. We should be worried about that.”

“Could Jurassic Park really happen?”

                That’s when “I Got You Babe” blasted from his alarm clock like it was projectile vomiting after a long night of drinking all the thoughts that had kept him up in the first place. John chose to let the song play rather than turn it off so as to give himself something else to listen to for a while instead of the circus clown routine under the big top that was his cranium. Through the clutter, his first morning task was to sort out which of those urgent screams of wondering that occupied his rest were TRULY important and which could be ignored until the following evening when they’d rear their devious heads again.

                With a groan John rolled himself out of bed and made his way to the kitchen. As he wiped the sleep from his eyes he felt his foot smash against flesh as he rounded out of his door and in to the hallway. “Oh, sorry man…” John muttered groggily as his pet rat Trinks, who had been sleeping in the hallway, got up out of his rudely awakened slumber and accompanied John on his trek to get his morning pick-me-up started.

                As John packed the coffee filter with the strongest roast “Stateway Grocery” had to offer he felt the frame of his house give a gentle shudder that slowly steeped to an ominous rumble. As if straight out of a scene in a movie John heard the trembling of dishes inside the cupboards and in that moment realized his body was doing the same thing.

“Here boy, COME!” John called to Trinks who had taken refuge on the counter as he stormed towards the door to get outside and away from the dangers of what HAD to be an earthquake. Trinks hopped off the counter and scampered at John’s heels with his tail between his legs as his rodent brain wrestled with the uncertainty of what exactly was going on.

                Moving swift with unease, John flung open the door to a burst of… shadow. The sunlight that had pried its way through his blinds moments ago was nowhere to be found as he stared directly into the face of pure chaos. His gut wrenched as John immediately got the feeling in the pit of his stomach that he only got when he knew it was going to be a particularly anxiety and stress riddled evening. Before him was what he could only describe as the visual representation of all the things that kept him up at night. With an ache in his heart, John wrapped his arms around Trinks as he stared into the unknown coming his way with the ferocity of a Tyrannosaurus Rex on the hunt.

“I’ll hold on to you, you hold on to me…” he whispered to Trinks as they braced themselves for the moment of impact…

– Rebel8

Coming soon

Chapter 3: The Heart Felt Fallout

The Power of the Rebellion

Watch the video below to find out how this challenge is going to be different than any other challenge we’ve ever done before… 

Sign up information will be released this week… stay stuned

Work for love. Get rich.

– Rebel8

The Rebels Made of Brick: Beyond Emerald City (XIII)

Late July...

Late July…

The Rebels Made of Brick: Beyond Emerald City (XIII)

At this very moment a tale of galactic proportions is swirling all around you, yet most remain impervious to the story unfolding right under your noses, before your very eyes, and sifting between your very own fingertips. It takes place not in a fictitious universe but simply a place none of us has ever visited. That doesn’t mean we aren’t vital to the plot, climax, twist, and conclusion of this chronicling… After all, it’s said that we all are breathing the same molecules the dinosaurs, Julius Caesar, and Leonardo Da Vinci circulated through their lungs. To be connected isn’t always tangible…

Take the “butterfly effect” for instance. Part of the “Chaos Theory,” this occurrence is described as being “the sensitive dependence on initial conditions, where a small change at one place in a deterministic nonlinear system can result in large differences to a later state.” Simpler put, the flap of a butterfly’s wings can be the very spark of events leading to land-shattering tsunamis half a world away. What if that butterfly figured out how to harness that energy? What if that butterfly learned how to focus that energy and rather than create a wave of tragedy and destruction, stirred up winds of change that carried lost sail boats to shore instead? Winds to give purpose to a little boy’s kite whose belief in magic happens the instant his youthful eyes see that wind vessel dance and never, ever stops believing from that moment on… What if one of the Universe’s smallest creatures realized with a simple act of instinct, it could change the world however it wanted?

Then, imagine if a singular tree branch full of those glorious world-altering butterflies flapped their wings together, synergizing the winds all around them with a mutual focus. No more… No less… Simply using what they were born with like the instruments they are rather than the appendages merely designed for survival they are so often viewed as.

This story isn’t about butterflies however… This story is about a group of Rebels who reside in a State well beyond Emerald City. Far passed Gillikin Country and just outside the Nonestic Sea lies the “State of Rebellion.” A land of forgotten sunshine and grinding routine, the state is divided between two factions of people; The Demolitionists and the Rock Republic.

The same in every way but allegiance, these Rebels (named from the state in which they come from) are known to brandish surly demeanors and keep a nose-to-the-grindstone approach to their lives, giving them the description of being “made of brick” by outsiders. Eventually the description was adopted by the Rebels themselves since… well… straightforwardly for reasons even Rebels didn’t know. It was just the way things were; their way of life. There was truth in the characterization, so they went with it.

With a penchant for purple the Demolitionists always felt in competition with the red-baring Rock Republic. Although they all woke up the same, had the same amount of time in the day, and felt the same joy and pain as one another each side was utterly convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that they had it worse. A bitter resentment that goes back as far as the birth of humanity, this was another accepted way of life in the State of Rebellion. Never questioned yet always harbored. Generation upon generation of Rebel youth raised to disagree with those who don’t claim the same color “just because.”

Until the blackout.

Chapter 1: The Forgotten Sun Remembered

To Be Continued…