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[on Friday Night Lights (2004)]: I grew up on a farm, and Lucas in the jungles of Alabama, so I think we adapted very well. It’s just a lot that these guys are holding on their shoulders at such a young age. There’s a lot they’re dealing with, the town pressure or support, their home life, all of that causes a sense of internal insecurities. These guys are realizing how crazy it is that they’re going through all this at such a young age. I’ve been told I’m too good looking for certain roles, but that’s okay, it just motivates me to go deeper. Everything to me in life is like the second scratch. I’ve always had a longstanding dream, ever since I was a kid, where I was running on a big lake of ice and I kept running and kept running, just about to where I was trying to get to, and I fell through the ice, and then I couldn’t find the hole where I fell through to get back out again. It was always like this certain thing where I could only get so far before everything collapses. So I guess it’s a bit of living in fear. But I don’t try to put it that way, because I feel that is going to pull everything you fear toward you. It’s about acknowledging the fear for about five percent, and then ninety-five percent goes into shrugging it all off.

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• My father gave me some pretty bad advice – keep it honest, which I did. People ask, why am I so honest with the press? I don’t have an answer. I suppose I’m honest everywhere else. Why should it stop here? Most of my shit sounds like lies. But all my stories are true, and that’s the problem. They call me the last honest man in Hollywood. But I care what people think, we all do.
• It’s hard to be specific about what parts I may have lost. But ultimately, it’s what I’m known for.
• Public speaking is a tremendous fear of mine. The Tonight Show (1962), David Letterman. I would always do a few shots or take an anti-whatever, some prescription relaxation deal and go out there and just kind of just flow with it.
• I don’t know. I want to go home at the end of the day and feel like I left a certain part of myself behind. You watch a Pacino performance, a DeNiro performance, you sit back in wonder and watch what they did. I’m curious as to what it would take for me to get to that place.

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If a man lets all of my dogs sleep in the bed with us, then that is the most romantic thing. You must love my dogs in order to love me. A man who is nice to my animals and doesn’t shoo them away – well, that’s the height of romance.

It sounds trite to go after men who are nice but when you’ve been hurt a lot it becomes appealing.

[on being pregnant] You are like a swollen whale and never looked worse in your life. And somebody goes, ‘You’re glowing.’ They don’t have the courage to tell you how bad you look.

You’ve got to take who you are and love who you are and do the best you can with what you’ve got. It goes for the figure, and it goes for everything else.

I have no advice because his wife is Lebanese like me and I know his mother-in-law and his sister-in-law and I know those kids cannot be in better hands. [On George Clooney’s becoming a father.]

Justice,
before you rule,
Please hear me—
not as counsel,
but as one who has stood in that midnight kitchen
through her words,
through her trembling hands,
fighting for Pêpê’s best interest—
a child the law claims to protect,

yet leaves trembling.
It is not enough
when his hand explodes against her mother’s face,
the sound sharp as a rifle crack,
making the glass in its frame shiver.
It is not enough
when her cheek blooms red,
then fades too fast for the lens to catch.

Pêpê—her mother’s pet name,
whispered like a shield.
At night she lies rigid in her bed,
listening to her mother’s muffled whimpering,
each sob a small surrender.
She learns too early that comfort is dangerous,
that silence is armour.
I hear her in the pauses her mother cannot fill,
in the way fear wraps itself around every word.

She is six.
Only six—
and already her eyes know how to measure a room,
track his every move,
clutch her mother’s skirt as though it’s the only thing
anchoring her to safety.
She memorises the path to the door,
ready to run before she’s learned to ride a bike.

Do you know what it is
to argue a case with your throat closing?
To know that “best interest of the child”
is not a theory,
not a balance sheet,
but a warm bed free from dread—
and still watch the law lean to “access”
and “parental rights”
as if they outweigh
a child’s right to breathe without fear?

He does not feed her.
He does not clothe her.
He does not keep her warm.
Yet he claims the right to hold her,
to call it love,
to shape her into a silence that will last her life.

The mother is shamed as bitter if she speaks,
while he—
who punched a hole beside her face—
walks away smiling.
And Pêpê learns to fold herself into small spaces,
to call fear normal,
to believe this is what families are.

Justice—
I see her years from now,
laughing in a sunlit kitchen,
her footsteps light,
her nights free from dread.
Your choice can make that real.

You are not deaf
to her small voice asking:

“Do I have to go?”

Your gavel can crush—
or shield.

Choose her.

Carve a future
where Pêpê wakes to mornings of peace,
where only her cereal crunches.

A washed-up vampire playing PI turns a murdered girl to preserve her testimony—but she refuses to play sidekick in his pity parade. Together, they navigate an underworld where identity is fluid, transformation is inevitable, and survival means reclaiming what others tried to erase.

At the dawn of the twentieth century, a pampered young American girl has her life turned upside-down by a series of harrowing encounters with fantastical characters.

In a Middle Eastern refugee camp, 16-year-old Saeed discovers a magical ring containing a Djinn (spirit) while hiding from bullies. The Djinn offers him three wishes. With his first wish, Saeed asks for protection from his tormentors, leading to the death of the bully Hassan. For his second wish, Saeed asks to return to the time before the war, which the Djinn grants. However, Saeed realizes he’s been sent back to the exact day the conflict began. Despite his attempts to save his family, history repeats itself – his father dies in a bombing, and he and his mother are forced to flee the city. Understanding that some events are destined to occur, Saeed uses his final wish to never have found the ring, returning him to his present life in the refugee camp, where he must accept his reality.

The Harmony Saga is a five-part mythopoetic cinematic universe culminating in a transcendent sixth finale. Combining visionary science fiction, sacred myth, and philosophical depth, it follows the rise of a divine AI, the collapse of a galactic Church, and the rebirth of cosmic balance.

https://www.instagram.com/brad.reinhold

Inside The Laced House, a luxury cosmetic clinic wrapped in velvet and silence, seven patients are stripped of their identities and forced into grotesque fairytale roles-voiceless mermaids, sleeping dolls, obedient swans, and sculpted princes. Through invasive procedures, psychological conditioning, and relentless surveillance, their bodies become battlegrounds in a system that weaponizes beauty to control.