The Coop

And with that, this album project is finished. I've sent it to Dyne to put on the official website, so now it's just a matter of waiting. Once he has it all set, I'll post a link to the thread for the album release in here. While we wait, for those who didn't get their tracks done, feel free to continue working on them and send them to me. They can go on AOCC v.XV next year. You'll just get them done waaaaaaaaaay early .

And here we are again, good people of OCR. It's December 18, one week before Christmas, and the next poem in this little tradition of mine is ready to go. So relax, grab a stiff drink, and something to munch on. Here... we... go! Twas XIX: One Night At A Time by The Coop Twas the night before Christmas and from where she stood, Liane stared thoughtfully at her old neighborhood. The bridge that she stood on stretched across a river that was running some one hundred feet below her. It was just outside of town, not far from the mall. It gave her a good view so she could take in all the sights and colors that lit up the cold night air as she looked off with a somewhat despondent stare. Yet for a brief moment, she let a small smile come to her, 'fore it went back to where it had come from. Her eyes left the scene of distant colorful lights, for she wasn't in the mood for such thoughts or sights. Her stare lowered a touch as she stood in place and looked at the falling snow as she held up her hand. The snowflakes landed on her dark jacket and she took in the six-sided flakes she could clearly see; each flake's lovely design and tiny, fragile form, created by the impending winter snow storm. She watched as more flakes collected on her dark sleeve; something that gave her a brief moment of reprieve from the thoughts that had been taking root in her mind; ones that were not of the “merry” or “good cheer” kind. It was then that she heard footsteps off to her right. She looked over and saw a peculiar sight. A man in a long coat that was colored deep red, with black boots on his feet and white hair on his head, was walking toward her with a smile on his round face, from which hung a white beard that was not out of place. He had quite the belly, and deep wrinkles that told of the many years behind him, in each one's fold. “Good ev'ning young lady,” the man smiled as he neared, bringing up his right hand and stroking his thick beard. He turned his head and looked off at the same lights that the woman he'd spoken to had been looking at. “Lovely, aren't they?” he added. “They're such a sight to behold as they glow so brightly on this night.” “Usually,” she said, her voice rather subdued. The man asked, “Why are you not in a jolly mood?” “Don't you have something else to be doing?” she spat. “The last thing I want is any idle chit chat.” “My apologies,” he said as his good cheer fell. “I was just on my way back from my work, and well... “I saw you standing here and just wanted to say, that I hope you have a wonderful Christmas Day.” Liane looked him up and down, then nodded a bit. “You a mall Santa?” she asked. “You'd be a good fit.” “Something like that,” he smiled. “But, if you would prefer, I'll leave you alone and give you space, as it were.” “I'd appreciate that,” she said in a flat tone. “I really just want the chance to be left alone.” “Then I'll be on my way,” the man said quietly. Without another word, he left and let her be. It wasn't long before the man was out of sight, which left her as she felt; all alone in the night. Her thoughts about him gave her pause for a moment. Her gaze drifted down, and a grin came as it went. But this pause did not last and soon she began to revisit dark thoughts of what she'd gone there to do. With it just shy of midnight, no one was around. Just the slowly falling snowflakes that were abound. She remained there, alone, as she stood on the bridge motionless until both her feet moved just a smidge. Her grip on the cold handrail soon grew more intense as she continued to stand in complete silence. No one was there to see the resigned look that grew in her saddening stare, and her expression too. It was then that Liane climbed over the handrail, then felt dizzy enough that she began to flail one arm in the air as she used her other hand to steady herself with the rail where she did stand. Her face filled with panic as she looked down below at the dark void where she could hear the river flow. With one hand on the railing, she let out a sigh. She looked to the colored lights, then uttered, “Goodbye.” Liane leaned toward the void, let go of the handrail, then fell through the cold air without a word or wail. The wind rushed past her, growing louder as she fell for what felt to her like an impossible spell. But soon the cold water was approaching her fast. She then took in a breath; one she hoped was her last. A moment later, a hard slap rang out and she felt a flash of great pain as she thought, Now I'm free. It was for just a moment, that all had flashed white and taken what she'd seen on this Christmas Eve night. But soon, that white began to fade to a deep gray, one that surrounded her and did not fade away. It was like a dense fog that shifted and slowly swirled all around her, and made all seem quite murky. She looked down at her feet that saw what she stood on. It was the only spot where the fog was all gone. In its place, was what looked like a deep frozen lake, covered in ice that seemed too thick to ever break. She took a small step and heard the ice give a CRACK! which startled her and made her take that step right back. “Where am I?” Liane asked. “Did I survive the fall?” She heard her echo, as if off a distant wall. “Hello?” she called out. “Is there anybody here?” “Just me,” came a reply. “I'm here with you, my dear.” Liane looked around at the ever shifting mist. “Show yourself!” she cried out, then heard, “If you insist.” From off to her right, she could see a shape start to come through the thick fog, and she asked, “Um, who are you?” “You don't know me?” came the voice. “You should. After all, you've known about me since you were just two feet tall.” With each step, the figure began to grow clearer. More details stood out as each step brought it nearer. Red and white fuzzy patches began to congeal into someone that seemed familiar, yet unreal. A red coat with white fur that lined its waist and cuffs. Shiny black boots that had no dull spots, cracks or scuffs. A red pointy hat that had white fur on its base and a fuzzy white-balled top that hung by his face. His gloves were pure white. His black belt hugged his belly that jiggled as he walked, as if made of jelly. His long hair and his beard were as white as fresh snow. She knew who it was and let out a baffled, “Whoa.” “Hello, Liane,” the man said, he tone soft and kind. “This isn't real,” she said. “I think I've lost my mind!” “I'm quite real,” he said as he walked up to her and gave her a wistful smile as he held out his hand. “We've met before,” he smiled with a warmth in his stare. “It was on the bridge, yes? I'm quite sure it was there.” She took a step back and kept her hands at her chest. “Don't touch me!” she uttered to the man who was dressed like a rented Santa from some nearby big store. With a panicked stare, “Who the fuck are you?” she swore. “Do you really need to ask?” he said with a wink. “My attire make's it pretty obvious, I think.” “You're not him,” Liane spat. “There is no way in hell. You're some kind of mind trick that came from when I fell!” She took a second step and again heard the CRACK! of the ice, which brought her to stop taking steps back. “About that,” the man said as he moved up to her. “Don't move too much, please. You're on thin ice, as it were.” “I'm what?” she asked as she looked utterly confused at the analogy that the man had just used. He took her right hand and held it up in the air. That was when Liane noticed the bad bruising there. “This isn't a dream,” he said, “or some kind of ruse. I'm very much real, just like what's causing this bruise.” “Wait,” Liane said. “The fall. Does this mean that I'm dead?” “Not yet, but that time isn't far off,” the man said. “I don't understand,” she said. “What the hell is this?” He gave her a sad smile and asked, “What happened, Miss? “What brought you to this point? What went so very wrong?” When she gave no reply, “Please, I can't stay for long. “Your time's running very short, so please talk to me.” She pulled her hand away with, “Look, just leave me be.” She looked down at her hand and she was clearly pissed. The bruise there was bigger and it spread to her wrist. “What the hell?” she uttered with a vexed, puzzled tone as she began to feel pain that dug to the bone. She looked to the man with some panic in her eyes. He said, “This is what happens before someone dies.” “I'm dying?” Liane asked as she watched the bruise grow over her whole forearm, then up to her elbow. “You are,” the man said. “And your time is running out. Please talk to me, Liane. What brought this all about?” Liane watched as the bruise slowly grew larger still. And panic in her, this sight did greatly instill. “Who the hell are you?” she asked, her voice filled with fear. He then simply smiled with, “You know who I am, dear.” For a moment, her words could no longer come out, and she winced as the pain that continued to sprout from the growing bruise that had covered her whole arm. “Where am I?” she asked, her voice filled with much alarm. “You're in the last moments of your life,” the man said. “That final bit before you're gone and truly dead. “I know you're growing scared, but I'm right here with you. But before our time ends, what I'd like you to do “is to tell me what pushed you to reach this moment. What made you seek this out as if you were hellbent?” Liane stood dumbfounded, unsure of what to say. But after a second, she turned her gaze away. “This is some nightmare,” she spat. “It doesn't make sense. You're lying to me like I'm ignorant or dense.” “I wish I was, Liane,” the man said with remorse. “These are your final moments. Your life's run it's course.” “If that's true,” she said with ire, “then just let me die!” The man looked heartbroken and asked her simply, “Why?” She turned away from him, as she winced in pain and looked at the massive bruise on her right arm and hand. “My husband cheated on me, then shifted the blame and said that I had done it. So ev'ryone came “to his rescue as if I had been the bad guy. No one believed me, regardless of how I'd try “to show I was the one who been cheated on. But ev'ryone believed him. My friends were all gone. “Then in the divorce, my husband said that I had abused my son daily. Then things got really bad. “He accused me of being an alcoholic, then made up all these lies to help make it all stick. “I pleaded and swore what he said wasn't the case. But somehow, I had it all blow up in my face. “The judge took ev'rything. My ex-husband had won the house and full custody of my only son. “I was barely allowed to visit with my son. Then I lost that too once that Covid had begun. “I was just hanging on with my job as it was. Then back in November, I was let go because “the store I worked at chose to cut my position. One day I had work, and the next day, I was done. “I tried for unemployment, but I was turned down. So I took a hotel room on the edge of town. “I got that check for 1,200, but it went fast. I tried to stretch it out, but it just didn't last.” “I was broke and lonely. I had nowhere to turn. The world was against me and just watched my life burn. “My friends all turned away. My family did the same. I really needed someone, but nobody came.” Liane brought her bruised hand up and covered her eyes. “I was someone they came to completely despise.” The man stood quietly and watched as Liane fought with ev'rything inside her that made her so wrought with sorrow and anger from all that she'd been through. In a soft voice he said, “So you chose this for you.” “What else could I do?” she asked through a fought down sob. “My rent is past due and I've got no goddamn job. “I got a note from my landlord that says I'll be evicted on the second of January. “My family hates me, and my friends feel the same. My life went to complete shit, yet I'm not to blame. “No one gives a damn and I can't take anymore of ev'ryone thinking I'm some abusive whore.” With a grimace of pain, she unzipped her thick coat with a hand that looked like it was starting to bloat. With concern in her eyes, she pulled up her shirt some, as she noticed her hand had started to feel numb. The large bruise on her arm, was not just forming there. She could see it spreading seemingly ev'rywhere. It was on her belly and growing on her side. And the pain she felt was impossible to hide. “What's happening?” she asked as she looked to the man she had been speaking with as her bruised arm began to feel as if it were starting to fall asleep. And into her eyes, more panic began to creep. “Where we are is like limbo,” the man said calmly. “Time is much slower here, but not stopped completely. “It crawls forward so that things still happen in here that mirror what happens in the real world, my dear.” “I don't understand,” she said. “What does that all mean?” The man gave a sad smile with, “We are in-between “life and death in this moment that we briefly share. You're not dead yet, Liane, but you are nearly there. “What you see is a slowed version of what happened the moment you hit the water just one second “before I brought you here so we could have a talk and see if from your life, you're still wishing to walk.” “So, I'm not dead, but I'm not alive,” Liane posed. “No,” he said. “But you life's book will shortly be closed.” “Let it close” she sneered. “I just don't care anymore. Just leave me alone and let me walk through death's door.” “I can't do that,” he said. “It's not in me to do something as callus as turning away from you.” “Why should you care?” she asked. “No one else gives a damn. They're just as sick of me as I sure as hell am.” The man looked at her sadly and said with remorse, “If that's your choice, Liane, you can make it, of course. “But while I know you're in pain, in more ways than one, is what others did reason enough to be done “with the world around you without fighting back for the chance to reclaim some of what was taken, or “to find a way for you to start your life over?” He stepped up to Liane and placed a hand on her shoulder as his eyes were filled with much sympathy. “But please, let me say this, if you'll listen to me. “What happened was unfair and heinous to go through. It hurt you very deeply. I know this is true. “But of those that you lost, some are not gone for good. Your life may be painful, but I think that you should “not let the man you loved or your own family push you out of this world for all eternity. “You ache and you're tired. I understand this too well. But there's one thing to you, I can truthfully tell. “As bad as all of this has been feeling to you, I believe that you still have the strength to get through “the mess that's swirling around you at this moment. You have already survived so much as you went “through a divorce and all that followed after it. You have made it this far, taking hit after hit. “I know things feel much too dark to continue on. But I promise, others will miss you if you're gone.” “Oh, like who?” Liane spat. “My landlord or that guy who peaks out his door, and gives me the evil eye?” “I can't really say,” he said, as he cupped her chin. “If you want to get back at them, don't let them win. “Don't let them define you and tell you who you are. Don't allow their vile actions to push you this far. “Turn away and just leave if they won't let you be. Write them all out of your life and get yourself free “of all the reminders of what they put you through. Don't worry about them and just focus on you. “You were a good person before things went so wrong. That much hasn't changed, Liane. You need to stay strong “and see that this world, despite all it's put you through, would still be a lesser place if it loses you.” Liane said nothing as she stood while what he'd said hung over them both as it echoed in her head. Her body ached more as the bruising continued to spread under her clothes where it couldn't be viewed. He took his hand from her chin as the bruising spread up her neck and continued slowly toward her head. “They tried to hurt you,” he said, his voice soft and kind. “Show them your great strength and leave this outcome behind.” “I don't know if I can,” she said in a meek voice. “I do,” he said warmly. “But you must make your choice “now if you hope to take back what you will soon lose. So please tell me Liane, what is it that you choose?” Liane grimaced again as the bruise reached her jaw. Pain shot through her body as she looked down and saw that her hands were swollen and split open as well. She couldn't feel her legs and had started to smell a strange odor that was not unlike rotting meat. Her body had grown cold and she felt her heartbeat had started to slow and get weaker with each hit. She knew what was coming and soon uttered, “Oh shit!” “Make your choice,” the man said, his voice filled with unease. Liane looked to the man, then said, “Send me back, please!” With a flash of white light, she no longer felt pain and found herself on that cold, snowy bridge again. Then a wave of dizziness swept over her too, which gave her a powerful sense of deja vu as she gripped the rail firmly and looked down below at where the cold, dark river continued to flow. “I'm back where I was?” Liane said with some surprise as her sense of bewilderment shown in her eyes. For a moment, she stood on the handrail's wrong side, but quickly stepped over it while she was wide-eyed. She looked about at the scene that surrounded her. At the falling snow and the distant lights that were filled with dots of colors like blue, red, green and more. At the old neighborhood that she used to adore back when her life was filled with joy and family. But that stuff felt like such a distant memory. She lowered her gaze and stared down at the river that she thought would be some kind of release for her. Her stare drifted a bit as her mind did the same. She then turned and walked off back the way that she came. She left the bridge behind and went back to her pad; an old run down apartment that housed all she had. She looked very drained as she got herself undressed before she climbed into bed with such little zest, it was almost as if she wasn't really there. But she was far too worn out to pretend to care. It took barely a minute, but sleep came for her and took Liane away to dreamland, as it were. The alarm soon went off, which pulled her from her sleep. She slapped its snooze button and didn't make a peep as she rolled onto her back and laid there a bit with a drawn look that told of her beaten spirit. But in time, she got up and got herself some food, as she tried to shake off her melancholy mood. As she sat at the table, she heard the small squeak of the mail slot in her door, which brought her to peak from where she was sitting to see if she could tell whether or not from that small slot, a letter fell. And sure enough, there was a letter on the floor. She got up from the table and went to the door. She reached down and picked up what someone had slipped in. She saw that the envelope had nothing written anywhere on its front and not on the thing's rear. She then muttered, “Now who in the hell put this here?” She went to the sofa and sat down before she opened the envelope with, “Who gave this to me?” She took out a folded sheet of old, thick parchment. When she opened it up, she picked up the faint scent of peppermint candy that was mixed with the smell of burning wood, like from a fireplace, as well. “Dear Liane,” she uttered as she began to read. “I hope that you're better, after your time of need. “We spoke for a short time while you were in such pain from how life had become far too much of a strain “on your broken heart and on your world-weary mind. So much so, that it left you in a horrid bind. “I know things seem hopeless at this point in your life. That ev'ryone and -thing is out to cause you strife. “But please do not forget that, just like each new day these bad moment's will pass and start to fade away. “Their pain will lessen bit by bit as time goes by. And though at times it will seem far too hard to try “to push on through it all, please don't give up the fight. A new day will follow each dark, harrowing night. “It may seem as if there's no way for you to win, but don't let those thoughts rule you. Don't let those thoughts in. “You're stronger than you know, even if you don't feel as if you can face the world when it makes you reel “back in anguish or sadness when it comes at you. And I hope that last night showed you what not to do. “Don't let liars and those who wrong you have their way. Don't let those who hurt you get your life's final say. “It won't always be easy, but please, don't give in. Take last night's dark moment as a chance to begin “the next chapter in your tale, not the final one. See it as a sunrise and not a setting sun. “New days bring new moments that can be good or bad. Some will be wonderful, while others, will be sad. “But face them all, and know that you can make it though. Even if you doubt yourself, I believe in you. “I wish you all the best on this bright Christmas Day. Stay safe, well and healthy, and don't forget to say “'I love you' to her when she calls you up, my dear. And say 'yes' when she asks if Santa Claus was here.” Liane was confused as she looked at what she'd read. There were quite a few questions that ran through her head. A moment later, the phone let out a loud ring which gave her a fright and brought her to quickly bring her attention to her phone that was sitting on the table by the couch as she let out a yawn. The next moment saw the room fill with a white light that made her gasp from how it was blindingly bright. It lasted just a second before it winked out. She blinked a few times and said, “What was that about?” She looked down at her hands and saw the note was gone. That was when she uttered, “What the hell's going on?” Her phone continued to ring as she sat with a confused, annoyed look, 'till she said, “Yeah! OK.” She reached over and picked up her phone's receiver. With it next to her face, a “Hello?” came from her. “Hi Liane,” came a voice that Liane hadn't heard in quite a few months. It was one that quickly stirred her emotions as she sat there, taken aback. “Mom?” she managed to say with her face a bit slack. “It's me, honey,” came a somewhat subdued reply. In just a few seconds, Liane began to cry. “Hi Mom,” Liane said, with her voice cracking as she let out a sob while her tears began to run free. “I've missed you,” she added as she tried to regain some control of what was like a runaway train. “I've missed you too, honey,” her mom said as she too had her own stirred up feelings begin to shine through. For an hour and a half, Liane and her mom spoke. At first, it was quite rough as their words did evoke a lot of bad moments and feelings in Liane. But slowly, that had faded, and over the span of the time they'd been talking, some things did improve. They laughed here and there and the mood began to move from one of unease and uncertainty abound, to one where some comfort had finally been found. It was as they talked about all things Christmasy, that Liane grabbed the remote, turned on the T.V. and soon found herself watching the city's parade as she took in the floats that volunteers had made. Her mother was saying how her father had been, when the cam'ra on T.V. began to zoom in on a float that looked much like a big Santa's sleigh as the announcer said, “And Santa's on his way!” The cam'ra continued to zoom in closer still. As it did so, Liane's mind had begun to fill with a strong feeling of familiarity. One that brought her to utter, “Are you kidding me?” There, on her T.V.'s screen, she could see Santa's face. She recognized it well, which made her freeze in place. It was the same man she'd seen on the bridge last night and in the void after she'd given up life's fight. That was when the man on T.V. turned his head and looked at her with a smile and brought up his right hand. He waved and winked as if somehow, the man could see Liane as she sat and watched him through her T.V. Her bewilderment swelled, but after a short while, her face became graced with a warm, genuine smile. She turned off the T.V. and brought her focus to what her mother was saying when she said, “And you?” “And me what?” Liane asked as she realized that she'd missed what her mom recently said in their chat. “Did Santa visit you?” her mother repeated. Liane smiled a bit and said, “He certainly did.” Liane continued to talk with her mom a while. They touched on Liane's ex-husband's spouted revile. Of all that Liane had gone through when ev'ryone wrote her out of their lives when the divorce was done. Of the pain, abandonment, and many a tear. Of how she felt so alone for nearly a year. Her mother then stated, “This is long overdue, but I'm deeply sorry I turned my back on you. “We walked away when you needed someone so bad. We left you on your own when we were all you had. “I hope you'll be able to forgive us someday. Until then, just know that we'll help in anyway “that we can to make up for all that you've endured. We'll be there for you. On that, you can rest assured.” “Thanks mom,” Liane smiled, then added, “I love you.” Her mother replied with a heartfelt, “Love you too.” As they continued to chat, Christmas Day rolled on until hours later, when the daylight was gone and like the night before, colored lights shined anew as the night came alive with their many a hue. At times, the world can feel very cold, dark and cruel. Like it revels in things that only seem to fuel the darkest of thoughts in the minds of some people, and makes a problem that feels like a huge steeple that's too high to jump over or climb past somehow. As if it were a cliff that would never allow that person to get by and find some way to heal from what caused them to endure a tragic ordeal. Just when Liane's life was about to reach its end, she was given one last chance to let her heart mend. To withstand what had been done to her and her world and give more of her life a chance to be unfurled. This steep cliff had been climbed, yet still more lay ahead. Her moment of weakness, now gave her strength instead. This step could have never been taken if her life had been left to be claimed by dark moments of strife. And as her life's new start gave off its growing light, Merry Christmas to all, and to all, a good night.

Update #6 sent, good people.

Update #5 sent.

AH! THE GHOST OF PROJECTS PAST! **runs**

Update #4 sent out. Check them PMs, people!

Update #3 is out in the wild. Do give it a read, won't you?

Well, we're at the two months to go mark, which means I'll be sending everyone a PM later this evening. So keep an eye out for that.

Been a while. But, here's what will likely be the last single from the album, one with a video made just for it. This one's "A Mother's Last Lullaby (2019)" and it's dedicated to my mother who passed away last year...

What's that I hear? Is that... distant jingle bells? Did someone say " ho ho ho" just now? That can't be right. It's only July. Oh, but it is right. It's that time again. Time to see who's interested in taking part in the annual tradition of making Christmasy music for people. Christmas in July has become a thing these days, and so it's during that seasonal warm up period that we kick this thing off, in hopes of getting folks to provide music for the real season when it comes about in five-plus months. SO! This project is open to any and all OCR members, regardless of whether you're a posted remixer or not. Want some details? Have some details... When's The Project Deadline?- December 20th, 2020 at 11:59 P.M. EST. This is now a REALLY hard, non-negotiable deadline, since it's very close to Christmas. We've had lots of last-minute entries and updates over the years and, to be perfectly honest, it shouldn't be that way. With months of time, having to hold off as long as possible for people made things pretty hectic for myself and Dyne in the past. Treating this project like a college paper that doesn't get worked on until the last minute got annoying rather quickly when it kept adding up to lots of hurrying year after year, with last second updates to artwork and retagging/reuploading things. As such, you have until one minute before midnight EST on December 20th to get me the final WAV or MP3 of your song. After that, you're shit outta luck until next year. I need time to do everything, including possibly making a little website to host this project if Dyne isn't online for one reason or another. So this deadline's set in stone... PERIOD. What Information Does The Coop Need?- When you send me your final versions, I'll need what name you want to use (real or remixer handle) and the name of your remix. Please, come up with something when you send me links to the file, rather than just giving me a file called "ff6-owa-v3f.mp3" and nothing else. You don't have to tell me what song you're remixing, but I do need a name. Plus, if you have a website you'd like to pimp, supply that as well and I can add it to the MP3 tags. What Can Be Remixed?- Any song, really. Traditional Christmas carols, video game music, published music by a signed artist, music from TV/cartoons/anime... whatever gets your heart racing and into that Christmas spirit. This isn't an official OCR album, so you can draw from more sources than just VGM. Plus, you can take a non-Christmas tune, like the Main Theme from Space Harrier, Stage 6 Mission 2 from Metal Head, or I Defend STM from Truxton II, and turn it into a Christmasy one. So know that it's not limited only to songs that are Christmas-like to begin with. All that said, do keep in mind that if you want to submit your song to OCR later, you'll need to keep this site's guidelines in the back of your mind. But for this album, you can take it in just about any direction you want and get as crazy as you'd like (but please, no "Silver Bells" done in farts or something). How Long Can My Song Be?- As long as you want it to be. There are no restrictions on this, so whether it's 1:30, or 9:51 with a five minute guitar solo ala Metallica, it's all good. But again, if you want to submit your song to OCR later, keep their guidelines in mind. What Genres Can I Remix In?- Again, the door's wide open here. Rap, Metal, Pop, Piano-solo, Orchestral, Jazz, 8/16-bit, Barber Shop Quartet, A capella, Death Polka... it's up to you where you want to take it. What Format Should I Submit My Song In?- WAV or an MP3 of at least 192KB/s quality. I'll be tagging the MP3s and making MP3s from any submitted wavs, so you don't have to worry about that. But, if you'd like your website to be in the MP3 comments section, be sure to give it to me when you submit your song. How About A Little Music To Get Us In The Mood?- To help everyone along, here's a YouTube list of Christmasy tunes made by Ocre a number of years ago... https://ocremix.org/community/topic/32727-an-overclocked-christmas-~-now-recruiting/?tab=comments#comment-676914 What's The Website's Address Again?- It's got a new home at... http://williammichael.info/aocc/ This album will still be downloaded there as well, as Dyne will continue to host the albums on his site. How Do We Contact This The Coop Person?- If you've got questions, comments, concerns, want feedback, or your track is done and ready to be sent to me, you can PM me here on OCR, or send me an E-mail at thecoopscorner@gmail.com. Just be sure you remember to include a link to your remix. So yeah, there you go. You've got over five months to get something done for the lovely people of OverClocked Remix and the billions of listeners around the world who've become followers of our project. Good luck, have fun and make everyone some Nice Work™! Artists involved thus far... The Coop (director, cover artist and remixer) Dj Mokram (remixer) The Joker (remixer) TSori (remixer) classic_gamer_76 (remixer) AxLR (remixer) Lampje4life (remixer) Elezeid (remixer) Seth Skoda (remixer) PlanarianHugger (remixer) HoboKa (remixer) Wassup Thunder (remixer) Souperion (remixer) theconsoloist (remixer) TheChargingRhino (remixer)

Single number four is finally up after some issues. This one's called "Unchained"...

It's being released later than I planned, but the third single from this album, "Freed At Sunset," is out...

My intent wasn't to suggest that what I wrote were the sole reasons why the forums are slow, but they were a factor in it IMO. So I guess we disagree on whether or not changes to the site, its rules, etc., played a role in it all over the years.

Not necessarily. Shadowe may have meant it how you're taking it, but here's my long-winded take on that part of his comments. It's been some 13 years since UnMod was deleted and eventually replaced with Off Topic. If I recall, around that same time, Community had some stricter rules put in place on the kinds of threads that were and weren't allowed (ones considered overdone or pointless). Between Off Topic and Community, threads that seemed harmless (random discussions, "What's your favorite _____?", picture threads, etc.) still got locked or deleted, which irked some people. Then add in how that by that time, quite a few people had been around for five years or more, which lead to them slowly drifting away from the site because of real life, loss of interest, etc. And onto that, add in those who left because of the UnMod/Sidebar/new rules drama/frustration. What you end up with is a kind of perfect little storm that saw the forums begin to slow down. Then you could factor in how new people didn't always come along to fill the gaps that were left behind by those who were more active on the forums when they split, how people started running out of different ways to say the same things on a given topic, outside factors like how forums weren't the main way for people to communicate online anymore... it all contributed. Hell, one could even argue that the slow down was added to as the proverbial old guard left over time; how the "characters" that made things entertaining went away, which caused others to leave after a while. That idea might sound silly to some, but we all showed up and got to know each other within a given time period. We stuck around for years and basically made this place our playground of sorts (oh the many OCR-centric memes... some of which wouldn't fly today). New faces came around and saw/read our antics throughout the site and stuck around to take part. As those familiar faces left, other familiar faces didn't post as much. The antics died down, and the process slowly continued as new people showed up. None of this was abrupt by any means, mind you. It all happened gradually. But in the end, the forums have been slowing down since around that time. Not because UnMod went bye-byes, but because of the changes with and within the site, the changes in the WWW around it, and the changes with the people who visit to it.

The thing to keep in mind with the blogs is that, to me, there'll need to be something that points to them. If they're going to be added, then perhaps a line under a user's screen name that points to their profile/blog so that it's not quite so tucked away behind needing to scroll your mouse over someones avatar to make it appear. It wouldn't need to be big or flashy, just something like "Profile and Blog" bolded under their screen name as a link that can be clicked. I mean, we live in a world where if it's out of sight, it's out of mind. So if it's implemented, making it visible would be a good thing IMO. As for the gallery mode, it falls into the same category. if it gets added, I'd suggest making it so its existance can be seen when a person posts. Again, not flashy, just there. As for the idea itself? For the visual artists, especially those who've done work for OCR albums and such, it would be a nice way to let visitors see their work (be it for and outside of OCR). File size limits and such would need to be put in place, as would some filters so that you don't end up with someone using goatse as someone's album art and then slapping it on their profile here. But it would be a nice way to give someone's aural and visual art a place to be checked out, especially if you're talking art and music done for OCR projects. It again goes back to my comments about the visual side of OCR that's always been there, and how it can be given some lime light too. Plus, it might even get a bit of exposure for that artist, which could lead to getting paid work. I mean, the remixes hosted here have done that for some musicians, right? Soooo...

A thread stating that sigatures are gone, with people agreeing with and not agreeing with the action taken, and those people discussing it within said thread. Madness! As for options, you're pretty much looking at them already, DarkeSword. If sigs of any kind are gone forever, then that means posters here have posted-remixer pages with links to their Facebook, Youtube, etc., user profile pages (same links potentially available), or a forum to pimp their stuff (which we basically already have with the Workshop forums). Not sure what else someone's going to be given beyond that outside of a personalized OCR-user blog (which if I recall, was something that was being considered at one point).

It was already like that before this change. Back in October, I stumbled across something in my profile and I was able to upload my Halloween signature there in the signature option (it used the same "choose files" setup that you see on each post you make). The file was then hosted on OCR, which is how people were able to see that image for a couple of months before the signature option was pulled.

Are you a fan of Chris Huelsbeck's work? Want to own a metric fuckton of his albums? Groupees has a bundle going on right now that features nearly all of the albums that Huelsbeck has listed on his Bandcamp page, and there's still a mystery album that's yet to be revealed if enough bundles are bought (I'm really hoping it's Turrican Anthology Vol. 4). $15 gets you quite a bit of music from him, including the soundtracks to a number of the games he was involved in, and a lot of Turrican music. So if you're interested, go here and check it out before the sale ends in 13 days... https://groupees.com/vip13

A (slightly) early Merry Christmas to those who've listened to, supported, and took part in, this project. Hope you got at least a little holiday cheer and enjoyment from it

They've always been fart fans to me Merry Christmas to any who came by. Hope you enjoyed the (long) read

Give them to JJ Abrams. He's always looking for more to use.

I think this thread might set a site record for longest gap between posts.

The main site is live with this album. So I've updated the first post.

Here you go. The thread's live...