Apal coupe

UAE:

1. Bugatti Chiron (Dubai, 2021) (aka the first hypercar i've ever spotted in a wild) https://www.google.com.ph/maps/@25.2172277,55.2762902,3a,15y,152.7h,86.15t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1s0i3JfyeIkR9CNlLGptbFZw!2e0!5s20211001T000000!7i16384!8i8192?hl=en
   
2. Ferrari 488 Pista Spider (Dubai, 2022) https://www.google.com.ph/maps/@25.0764639,55.1456722,3a,15y,190.57h,85.03t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1ssyYnMCoUJrFarva7tEsxKQ!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?hl=en
   
3. Aston Martin V12 Vantage S Roadster (Dubai, 2022) https://www.google.com.ph/maps/@25.067633,55.1435881,3a,35.3y,92.3h,68.63t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1snUDgcYQMerWNz1fAf035vw!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?hl=en
   
4. Lamborghini Huracan EVO Coupe (Dubai, 2022) https://www.google.com.ph/maps/@25.0757548,55.147463,3a,36.4y,87.92h,70.18t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1sVSQv6UDVsql1b1n84sCoRg!2e0!5s20211001T000000!7i16384!8i8192?hl=en
   

North America:

1. Ford F150 Shelby (Foster City, 2022) https://www.google.com.ph/maps/@37.5419634,-122.2600359,3a,17y,82.99h,85.2t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1sxNx8i-2O2NKUK39zFVWS-w!2e0!5s20220701T000000!7i16384!8i8192?hl=en
   
2. Lotus Esprit (S2) (Foster City, 2022) https://www.google.com.ph/maps/@37.5532364,-122.2519058,3a,18.9y,150.07h,73.29t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sQK-xO9T5JNie76pqfwIVMQ!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?hl=en
   
3. Acura NSX (NC1) (Houston, 2022) https://www.google.com.ph/maps/@29.6573098,-95.255059,3a,15y,90.19h,88.7t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sHpOF1lpaH2ke9TpHdwX8FQ!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?hl=en
   
4. Porsche 991 Carrera GTS (Los Angeles, 2021) https://www.google.com.ph/maps/@34.071327,-118.4578909,3a,15y,188.09h,78.39t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sqZhJtgmcE4XJWs5tfLTL2A!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?hl=en
   
5. Porsche 991 Speedster (Quebec City, 2022) https://www.google.com.ph/maps/@46.7788023,-71.2620698,3a,15y,96.85h,81.51t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1sdB6Lf7JSnMWF9TtZ5i06hA!2e0!5s20150601T000000!7i16384!8i8192?hl=en
   
6. Porsche 930 Turbo 3.3 (Port Washington, 2021) https://www.google.com.ph/maps/@40.832779,-73.6990045,3a,15y,220.9h,86.84t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sck8_mi4s7qAT8TaWvljYxw!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?hl=en
   
7. Dodge Ram 1500 Rumble Bee (Austin, 2022) https://www.google.com.ph/maps/@30.4223348,-97.6850937,3a,18.8y,201.61h,78.4t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1seJqS6F5XePmPNfHw9nV0kw!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?hl=en
   
8. Jaguar SS 100 (Hollywood, 2011) https://www.google.com.ph/maps/@26.0177737,-80.1172515,3a,15y,125.05h,77.26t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sSimzsxrhGvIig14iY-bdIg!2e0!7i13312!8i6656?hl=en
   

Europe:

1. Morgan 3-Wheeler (Sarge-les-le-Mans, 2016) https://www.google.com.ph/maps/@48.0554292,0.2524119,3a,15y,172.54h,83.94t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1sIDXotw5dxIEsLQnFuSh6ig!2e0!5s20090201T000000!7i13312!8i6656?hl=en
   
2. Ferrari 488 Pista Piloti (Paris, 2022) https://www.google.com/maps/@48.8673473,2.3294945,3a,15y,266.24h,89.4t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1ss_sASc5eoKaegE0eGmtCww!2e0!7i16384!8i8192
   
3. Mercedes Benz 190 SL (Paris, 2022) https://www.google.com/maps/@48.8650749,2.320579,3a,15y,276.61h,87.44t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sq0qiEX09po_jOF8dsGXpFw!2e0!7i16384!8i8192
   
4. Classic European Car Meet (Evian-les-Bains, 2018) https://www.google.com.ph/maps/@46.4019584,6.5878874,3a,33.5y,155.33h,82.87t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1skbuitACAa7qrR1aLBB8r_Q!2e0!7i13312!8i6656?hl=en
   
5. Volkswagen New Beetle RSi (Amstelveen, 2018) https://www.google.com.ph/maps/@52.2798174,4.8548601,3a,39.3y,17.67h,64.2t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sUdtPrHNgUlGySouUo9wdpw!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?hl=en
   
6. Daimler DS420 Limousine (Caldicot, 2017) https://www.google.com.ph/maps/@51.5985337,-2.7518728,3a,15y,37.81h,85.86t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sWQ6Gpm1RMfNkOcU_KJN8UQ!2e0!7i13312!8i6656?hl=en
   
7. Volvo 262C Bertone (Steenwijk, 2022) https://www.google.com.ph/maps/@52.7917934,6.1457262,3a,15y,208.63h,83.22t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sNfIEv-uk0tVZ-cE1eb-xeQ!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?hl=en
   
8. Ferrari 488 Pista (Westhill, 2021) https://www.google.com.ph/maps/@57.4703421,-4.1530185,3a,24.2y,111.3h,84.88t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sywg2PI1VFvBscVmqNA75Hw!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?hl=en
   
9. Renault Clio V6 Phase 2 (Linlithgow, 2011) https://www.google.com.ph/maps/@55.9766046,-3.6149514,3a,15y,102.92h,84.27t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1skNE-KgaliygiU3PI5gj7-A!2e0!7i13312!8i6656?hl=en
   
10. Apal Francorchamps (Spa, 2009) https://www.google.com.ph/maps/@50.4920247,5.8690233,3a,16.5y,342.58h,77.16t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sbtP0DOV0nbvbkoLwWIjZKA!2e0!7i13312!8i6656?hl=en
    
11. MG KN (Weybridge, 2018) https://www.google.com/maps/place/51%C2%B021%2708.8%22N+0%C2%B027%2750.2%22W/@51.3530074,-0.4702083,3a,15y,156.99h,81.58t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1sprsOv8NRrE-7xtPc1_cgjA!2e0!5s20120801T000000!7i16384!8i8192!4m5!3m4!1s0x0:0x4f65cfad23df9fea!8m2!3d51.3524444!4d-0.4639444
    
12. AC Cobra (Knokke-Heist, 2022) https://www.google.com.ph/maps/@51.3394219,3.3079677,3a,15y,359.4h,87.43t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1sj11Qo18bWuTlpTP_cVwnCw!2e0!5s20220701T000000!7i16384!8i8192?hl=en
    
13. Porsche 981 Boxster Spyder (Knokke-Heist, 2017) https://www.google.com.ph/maps/@51.3392696,3.3059498,3a,22.2y,151.3h,75.05t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1s_46FX1N1R8aX92iLd5oI8g!2e0!7i13312!8i6656?hl=en
    
14. Ford Escort RS Cosworth (Mk4) (Windermere, 2009) https://www.google.com.ph/maps/@54.3812795,-2.9108351,3a,15y,265.15h,80.1t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1s2ugd_eucDM-kIiGRfiKwxw!2e0!7i13312!8i6656?hl=en
    
15. Lotus Carlton (London, 2022) https://www.google.com.ph/maps/@51.5619689,-0.0082209,3a,18.3y,94.75h,78.11t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1s8c5W6aXwJejk3D_K34fVTg!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?hl=en
    
16. Fisker Karma (Rotterdam, 2020) https://www.google.com.ph/maps/@51.9209155,4.4713078,3a,47.4y,275.57h,68.66t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1s8V343AlzS-M6QLlcI3DOKw!2e0!5s20201101T000000!7i16384!8i8192?hl=en
    
17. Burton Roadster (Ter Aar, 2020) https://www.google.com.ph/maps/@52.1691687,4.708,3a,15y,158.84h,80.75t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sssVlwPqoQX7Z4CbKaCjVyA!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?hl=en
    
18. 3 Quantum MK2s and 1 Quantum 2+2 Convertible (Cardiff, 2011) https://www.google.com.ph/maps/@51.4735348,-3.2584805,3a,22.2y,351.79h,82.06t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sPz5YjwfWO47RvldH3L7C9A!2e0!7i13312!8i6656?hl=en
    

In 1973, A Bloodless coup was led by Military General Mohammad daoud Khan, Overthrowing the king, his cousin King Zahir shah, who had become one of the longest reigning monarchs in Afghanistan. Zahir was abroad in Italy. During Daoud Khans reign, the word "Progressive" was being thrown around excessively. His reign didn't bring much change other than Minorities were oppressed. Ethnic Hazaras Faced the most oppression. Daoud was dubbed as a Pashtun nationalist because of stuff like this. Skip forward to 1978, The Saur revolution just took place, it led by Mohammad Taraki and Hafizullah Amin. They rapidly modernised Afghanistan, Land reforms and Economic ones plagued the Rural population, that were bombarded with tax and the fact that the Khalqis were strictly secular. Hafizullah Persecuted Those deemed as 'Counter-Revolutionaries', thus, killing over 5000 innocent people. Hafizullah Tried to Convince the Afghan people that he was a Muslim and that the Regime was based on the principles of Islam. Hafizullah was a stalinist, unsurprisingly. 14th December 1979, Hafizullah Suffocated Nur Muhammad Taraki after finding out he was planning to overthrow him. On the 27th Of December, 1979, The soviets launched an assault on the Tajbeg Palace and In the Assault, Killed Hafizullah Amin. This started the Soviet Afghan war. Hafizullah Kept requesting the Soviets to send Soldiers, Tanks, Etc. The Mujahideen was formed shortly after, comprising of several different factions all with the same goal: Getting rid of the Soviets. They were naturally supported by the west. A few notable Mujahideen commanders were: Burhanuddin Rabbani, Ahmad Shah massoud, Jalaluddin Haqqani and Gulbuddin Hekmatyar. The war raged on, 526,000-2,000,000 Afghan Civilians Lost their lives, 3,000,000 were injured and 5,000,000 were either internally displaced and/or Escaped the country. 1986, Babrak Karmal was Replaced by Mohammad Najib. Najib Attempted to appease the Muslim population of Afghanistan by readding "Ullah" to his name, Abolishing any signs of communism within the party, and in 1990, Afghanistan went full on Islamic republic. This obviously did not work considering the Mujahideen had a much better reputation of Protecting Muslims. In 1991, The Soviet union collapsed and Najibullahs Regime quickly fell apart. In early 1992 Afghanistan Collapsed and the Mujahideen United to form the Islamic State of Afghanistan was formed. All commanders abode except Gulbuddin, who was getting Pakistani support. He shelled Kabul along with Dostum and a few other Warlords. 50,000 Afghans died because of This. 1993-1994. he was chosen as the Prime Minister and again briefly in 1996 before the Taliban takeover. The Taliban was formed by a former Mujahideen soldier named "Mohammad Omar" who formed the Taliban to stop the Pashtuns in Kandahar from being persecuted. The ISI quickly shifted it's focus from Hezb-e Islami to The Newly formed Taliban. In less than a few months thousands of people joined the Taliban and Occupied 70% of Afghanistan. Ahmad shah massoud was losing the civil war due to waning support from India. In 1996 the Government fell apart and Massoud escaped to the wakhan where he stayed until 2001. The Taliban regime followed a combination of Pashtunwali along with Islamic Sharia. About 400,000 Afghans died during the Taliban regime. Inflation got so bad that it got to the point that people had to carry money in plastic bags just to buy some bread. 2001, The Buddha's were blown up due to Mohammad Omar coming across a few Afghans that asked to rebuild the statues that had been damaged due to rain and the War. Mohammad Omar was apalled, He said quote: "These people don't have any food, any money, and the thing they want to do most is go fix an inanimate object?" A few months before 9/11, Ahmad shah Massoud was assassinated by the Taliban. 3rd of September 2001. 9/11 Happened due to 4 planes being hijacked by members of Notable Terrorist group, Al-Qaeda. Two of them hit the twin towers in New York City. One Hit the Pentagon and the last one was aiming for the white house, but exploded in a barn. The USA invaded in October with over 250,000 Troops. In 2 months the Taliban regime collapsed. 2002, the Taliban was remade into an insurgency. Over the course of 20 years the Taliban just couldn't be defeated. Corruption was prevalent in the new Islamic republic of Afghanistan, Bribery and drug trafficking were prevalent in the ANA and many Afghan Military Commanders were secret members of the Taliban. 2021, The Offensive began, Biden pulled out all US troops Unexpectedly, Before that they released 5,000 Taliban Veterans, Stated that they would only support the Regime financially and Demoralized the ANA by leaving without warning. Ghani left as well. The USA placed sanctions on Afghanistan and froze all funds. Since the takeover 13,000 Afghan children Have died because of the sanctions with a further 20,000,000 At risk of Starvation.

(Weiss and the others are taking shelter in the Schnee manor. While sitting in a spreat room alone Weiss hears the door open behind her.)
Weiss: who’s ther- (see’s Whitley) oh, it’s you
Whitley: Well what a fine response that is.
Weiss: What do you expect I am tried and yo-
Whitley: ?
Weiss: No, you are right. That was mean of me, I am sorry Whitley.
Whitley: (surprised) Ahh well, apology accepted.
Weiss: ...
Whitley: ...
Weiss: Well?
Whitley: Well, what?
Weiss: you don’t usually come and talk to me unless you want something.
Whitley: dear sister, I am apalled that you think this of me, I come here to see my sister after she is involved in attempted coup. And this is the thanks I get!
Weiss: WHITLEY!
Whitley: ... Ok so, I noticed that you happen to be friends ... With ... miss Penny Polendina. Is this correct.
Weiss: I guess you could say that, why?
Whitley: (takes out his scroll trying to look casual well he scrolls through it) Oh no reason, I was just wondering if I could meet her?
Weiss: ... she’s not here right now. (stands up and walks over to Whitley)
Weiss: (snatches with me scroll out of his hand and proceeds to look through it) Oh!
Whitley: Hey, give it back!
Weiss: ... so you are a Penny fan boy?
Whitley: (embarrassed) ... So what if I am!
Weiss: (smug smile > soft smile) Sure, when we see Penny again I can introduce you. (Hands sroll back)
Whitley: (blushing) Thank you, sister.
Tumblr post: https://neale-47-rwby.tumblr.com/post/638540791303864320

Content
Hi europe, i'm sharing a translation of main conclusions of a polling research made by an islamic and pro-government organisation. Results were published a few days ago and pulled some reactions in the Turkish social media, so I though it could be interesting to share it with you. Results are commented by the polling agency, I sometimes added some context in paranthesis. And below the translation I put a more general commentary.
Cheers!
Here is the published report in Turkish.
Translation of main results
This study, carried out over 12/06/2017 to 18/06/2017 is titled "Study on the views of people of Turkey on religion and religious values" with results from 30 major cities and 23 other cities (AĞRI, AKSARAY, ARTVİN, BAYBURT, BİTLİS, BOLU, DÜZCE, ELAZIĞ, GİRESUN, GÜMÜŞHANE, KARAMAN, KARABÜK, KARS, KASTAMONU, KIRIKKALE, KIRKLARELİ, KÜTAHYA, NEVŞEHİR, OSMANİYE, SİNOP, BİLECİK, YOZGAT, UŞAK), and in 154 districts via face to face conversations with 5400 people. The research has been financed by MAK consueling and a gender equality had been tried to achieved in the profiling with 53.5% / 46.5% male and female ratios.
Age proportions

18-25 y.o	25-35 y.o	35-45 y.o	45-65 y.o	over 65 y.o
24	25	22	18	11

1. Do you believe God exists, is One, and has created us and given us life?

Yes	Partially, I do believe a God exists and has created us, but not that it intervenes to anything	No I don't believe in God	No answeUndecided
86	6	4	4

We note that only 86% fulfill the most basic requirement of what we used to refer as a 99% muslim population. Ateists and deists have significant presence in big cities and are beneath 1% in rural cities. We thus require a spiritual revolution to face against this religious divide.
2. Do you believe in angels?

Yes	No I do not believe what I cannot see.	No answeundecided
75	15	10

Requiring to believe in God's angels being a major requirement in Islam, we see with 'not believeing in not seen' that materialism is taking over our peoples spritual values. Believing in unsensable and undetectable entities as angles, djinns, spritis, heaven or hell is major requirement and has to be though to the hearts and minds of our people, in order to make them behave morally, thinking that someone is always watching even when alone.
3. Do you believe Quran and other holy books were sent by heavens?

Yes	No	No answeundecided
76	14	10

When considering these results, we can conclude that Quran hasn't been thought well to the people.
4. Do you have a copy of Quran at home? Do you read it regularly?

Yes to both.	Yes I have but I rarely read it.	No.	No answeundecided
25	32	33	10

It would be careless to expect people to be good Muslims without possesing or regularly reading Quran.
5. Do you believe in prophets? Do you think Mohamed is a role model in every way of life?

Yes	Yes but I don't think he is to be takend a role model for everything.	No	No answeUndecided
63	20	9	8

6. Do you believe in fate (that all good and bad comes from God)?

Yes completely.	Yes but humans forge their own fate.	Yes because humans have no free will.	No.	No answeundecided
55	15	15	10	5

While the first answer fits well to our Sunni values, the second is more alike Jahmi sect while those we gave the third answer is more alike Muʿtazila sect.
As a polling institue we respect all beliefs even if they do not match with ours, our remarks only aim to assess the population's beliefs better.
7. Do you believe in resurrection and in judgement for your actions in this world?

Yes	Yes but no judgements.	No.	No answeundecided
73	10	9	8

Yes answer increase with age, and decrase at more urban areas.
8. Can you read Quran in arabic?

Yes	No	No answeundecided
32	54	14

"Reading Quran" has become an optional course at schools in past years, and despide the youth of our polled sample, this number is too low. (OP's note: reading in arabic simply refer to properly pronouncing verses in arabic, no being able to learn arabic and read anything in arabic.)
9. Have to ever been to a special course for learning Quran?

Yes	No	No answeundecided
25	65	10

This low number is due to poor education of our imams, many people complaing about their bad memories in Quran courses. Imams should be thought to be better teachers and be inspected very firmly.
10. Have you ever read the Turkish interpretation of Quran?

Yes	No	No answeundecided
17	60	23

There is nothing more apalling that someone who calls themselved muslim does not even know the content of their holy book. Even though understanding simply the message is not enough to be spritually fulfilled, one cannot forge their opinons without knowing the content. Unfortunately we live in a population where people who pray 5 times a day, reading in average same verses 40 times a prayer, do not even know their meaning.
11. If you were guaranteed somewhat to go to heaven, would you accept to die now to reach there?

Yes	No	No answeundecided
15	65	20

Yearning for heaven must be all muslim's primary objective, but the attractiveness of the earth seduce people's minds.
12. Have you ever read the prohet Mohamed's life?

Yes	No	No answeundecided
23	65	12

Despite prohet's life being an optional course at schools, its apalling how they still do not read his life to better understand his message. (OP's note: look at question 5 and have a nice laugh.)
13. How often do you go to mosque/prayer hall?

Only in religious holidays	Only on friday's, religious holydays and kandils.	Ocasinally, even for daily prayers.	Never.	No answeundecided
12	32	13	30	13

There are 84/684 mosques in Turkey. It's saddening to see them only fill up on Fridays and at holidays despite Diyanet's increasing efforts.
14. Do you fast at Ramadan?

Yes	Yes but only partially.	No	No answeundecided
45	25	20	10

15. What ressource do you use to lear about Islam?

Religious books	Internet	Hear-says	No answeundecided
30	45	20	5

Internet being the simplest solution to everything in everyday life, it is not surprising that it is also used for religious education. But this leads to potential unrealiable sources to teach perversions under the guise of religion. Diyanet should be more present on social media and Internet.
16. How often do your pray?

5 times a day	Sometimes daily prayers, but never miss fridays, holidays etc.	Sometimes	Never	No answeundecided
22	26	24	22	6

17. Do you have any ties to a religous cult or sect

Yes	No	No answeundecided
15	60	25

Our field teams reported that people get quite annoyed and reluctant at this question probably due to purges following the 15th of July coup.
18. How did the attempted coup of 15th of July affected your views on religious sects or cults, given that FETÖ (Gulenist terrorist organization) gave a religious cult vibe?

It caused me to see them negatively and approach them with doubt.	I believe sects and cults have to be monitored and firmly inspected.	My views have not changed.	No answeundecided
35	60	12	3

19. Do you pray? How often? (OP's note: this is different than 16, which referred to a praying ritual called Namaz, which has some kind of guidelines. This refers to like praying personally before sleep etc.)

Yes, very often.	Yes, time to time.	No	No answeundecided
75	10	6	4

20. Is it important to your that your spouse is religous?

Very important	Partially	No	No answeundecided
51	24	20	5

People added that they usually prefer being with someone more religious than themselves make them feel more trusting and safe.
21. How your spouse's religious views should be compared to your views?

As much as mine.	More religious than me.	Less religious than me.	No answeundecided.
30	45	15	10

22. How do you salute people in public?

Selamun aleykum	Hello, Good day, etc.	What up? etc.	No answeundecided
41	24	30	5

Due to the digital realm, the use of selamun aleykum is quickly disappearing especially among the youth.
23. Is it important to your that in munincipal or general electins that the candidate is religious?

Very important	Partially	Nope.	No answeundecided
51	24	20	5

(OP: this is why we can't has nice thingz :'( )
24. Do you think Islamic countries need a religious leadership (like christians pope) akin to a Khalif? (OP: p.27 look at where rays are coming from on the picture lol. And to the person who prepared this document: Your mom is an islamic country, Turkey has no religion.)

Yes	No	No answeundecided
54	40	6

25. Do you feel regret when you sin?

Yes	No	No answeundecided
90	2	8

Here we note that even deists or atheists have some kind of moral compass.
26. Do you take Ghusl?

Yes, I do not leave home without one.	Time to time.	I don't( know how).	No answeundecided.
65	17	13	5

This study is carried out at every Ramadan, with a Likert scale based anlysis.
Additinal Context (possibly somewhat biased)
As you're probably seeing on a daily basis, attempts of Erdogan to spread islamic bigotry increase and are more public. This might be surprising for some, seeing how you react to such topics, but this has been repeatedly announced by the kemalist opposition since 2002 while many called it conspiracy theories and supported AKP but since 2014 other political factions of the population (liberals, nationalists, non-kemalist social democrats) have been starting to realize motives of AKP.
Meanwhile note that the islamist movements in Turkey are, for the most, quite different than wahabbist ideology, the level of their extremism varies strongly from sect to sect. Most of them can be grouped under a few historic cults, some of which were attempted to be destroyed by Atatürk during the establishment of the Republic, so in order to spread their ideologies they had to soften their tone. They usually hate each so, it is quite inconceivable to unite them. I will write more on this in comments to not compromise this post with my own views.
Many found this "research" quite amusing in Turkey, especially their comments on realizing that among the "99% muslim" nation that Erdogan uses to justify himself at times, only 17% has ever tried to understand Quran.
And the research is obviously biased; first it has been carried out in ramadan, where many irreligious muslims suddenly remember there were some sort of rules to follow to go to heaven, second, people are afraid to be marked as somewhat non religious, especially government agents would risk mobbing at work, so they won't easily tell their true beliefs especially on a face to face interview. And lastly, these pro-government reports are usually made to please to Erdogan, I mean look at question 24, that would give him a nice ego boost, and get these guys some nice funds and investments!
Anyway, in other recent Turkish or non-Turkish polls, Atheism ans Deism were noted to be rapidly spreading. Thanks to the Internet, and thanks to the oppressive behavior of Erdogan, it is much easier to break the chains, as even most vocal muslims cannot defend their actions and usually end discussion with "probably they did that/this because of something they knew", "we wouldn't understand, just trust them" etc.
Averaging on those pools I would estimate atheist/deist proportion to somewhere at 10-20%, Alevis are at least 20% and Sunnis were estimated at most 65%. Among sunnis we have what we call "sweet-water muslims", who only follow hadiths they like and brand the remaining as "this is no true Islam! Look at the Islamic Golden Age, that was the true one!".
Erdogan's policies at schools seems to be ineffective to the youth, for instance at the presidential system referendum, if only below 25 had voted, No would have been above 65%. The referendum could even had been won by "No" only with below 60 year old voters.
However this is still not good news for Turkey, even though religion might end up becoming ineffective as a political manipulation tool in a new generations, overall (disregarding all political views), we can be very hot-headed and easy to manipulated on other sorts of values. E.g. we have had recently an unveiled women who harassed a veiled woman in the bus for her dressing (oh Erdogan adores those ones, sweet propaganda material, cry some fake tears and rant on evil fascist kemalists and you have the election in the pocket). Our leftists can be extremely unreasonable at times too, I appall at the number of time Stalin is praised, and URSS as seen as an ideal state. This is all due to adoption of ideologies without investigating them thoroughly.
If we are rid of Erdogan one day, we will need to focus on rebuilding tolerance and reforming the education on a more fact-based approach rather than empty memorization, so people can learn to forge their own opinions.
Edit: corrected some formatting issues

I live in a pretty nice upper-middle class suburb: Anthem, Arizona; it was voted #1 master-planned community or some shit like that. I work at the local community center, and that's actually where I am right now. It's been slow today, and I really need to get this off my chest. Before I lived in Anthem, I lived in seedy Phoenix, and before that, I lived in Winslow, AZ. If don't you live in AZ, or the surrounding area, let me tell you this: Winslow kind of sucks. It's a border town between the U.S. proper and the Navajo Nation Reservation. That's where my great-grandmother lives (recently a great-great-grandmother with the birth of my cousin's daughter). Living where we do, about 4.5 conservatively guesstimated hours from her house near Dilkon, AZ, we rarely get to see her. When we do, the visit is usually launched from Winslow, where my grandparents live. And since there are no lights except for the houses with power and the glow of more common fireplaces, if we end up staying past a certain hour, it turns into a giant slumber party in the... humble... 2-room dwelling. This is a tale of just one of those times.
Most of the time when we make the trek out, it's for some celebration; a retirement, graduation, what have you. On these occasions, we butcher a member of my great-grandmother's sheep herd and have a huge potluck feast. The whole family comes out, which in Navajo means people I'm not related to according to Western familial ties. It's a complex clan system, mainly intended to prevent incest, I think. Anyways, it's basically my "real" family and my "clan" family (many sets of grandparents, parents, and brothers/sisters) mingling sort of awkwardly, I'll admit. Maybe it's just me and my shy ways.
Anyways, the sheep that would become dinner was still alive when my mother and I arrived (My dad is white, and my folks are split up, so he didn't show). It was still bright out, if potentially stormy in the distance. I hugged my great-grandmother carefully, barely laying my arm across her tender shoulders, bending at the waist to accommodate her seated position. She's a gifted polyglot, having learned Navajo and English as a child(in that order) and acquired Spanish, Portuguese, Hebrew, and a smattering of German somewhere throughout her long life. Still, her accent was quite obvious as she greeted me: "Oh, hello, yaateeh, shi'yazhi!" Oh, hello, hello, my little one!
Navajo's a rough language, but it's distinct, and having grown up around it, I can understand most of it, or at least get the gist of a rapid-fire conversation between elders. Sadly, though, I can barely speak it.
Her house was cozy, but it really was small. I have one of the smallest models of home in Anthem, but her entire house could fit in my living room. There was a fireplace about 5 feet from the door, and the rest of the floor space in the main room was covered by 2 beds, a couch, an entertainment center-turned picture shelf, and my grandma's chair. The little space left was pathways between these, and into the kitchen, the second room. There was a recently added restroom with a shower, but before that was installed a few years ago, the only washroom was the outhouse that still stood about 200 yards from the house, toward the chicken coupe. We sat around the various furniture, which I'm sure would be weird for outsiders (I once brought my ex-girlfriend out and she was secretly uncomfortable sitting in my great-grandmother's bedroom chatting), but it's the only way I know to visit her. The elders were speaking Navlish for the sake of me and my mother, but I was still relying heavily on keywords to understand what they were talking about. It's not important to the story, though, and I understand nothing scary has happened yet, so I'll skip it for readership's sake.
Eventually my cousins arrived with my uncle, which for the day would be the extent of my "actual" family at the feast. My "grandfather", who was really my blood-grandfather's uncle, had recently retired, and celebration was in order. But kids will be kids, and as soon as we could, my cousin Yoyo (it's just a nickname, his real name is Matthew but EVERYONE knows him as Yoyo) and myself got away on the premise of going for a hike.
We headed off toward the stables, past the first wash, over a little range of hills, and climbed and crossed a side edge of Sunflower Butte, a huge monument literally in my family's backyard. As soon as we were out of sight and scent, my cousin unzipped his enormous poofy jacket. As soon as the seal was broken, the odor of high-quality pot wafted across the air in the wash we were tucked into. He loaded up a bowl in a little plastic bong and handed it to me with his white lighter.
"This is bad luck," I said, waving the lighter a little before I set flame to the Devil's lettuce.
"That just means nobody will steal it from me," he replied, taking the bong and hitting it before the cherry died. (it was still lit, so he didn't need the lighter, if you don't do the whole cannabis thing)
I once more took it from him, and as I kept the cherry going, the headchange from my first hit set in, and as I exhaled, I put the lighter in my pocket without thinking. It wasn't theft, it was just a mistake. We each got another hit, and were exceptionally pleased that we'd gotten the whole bowl off a cherry. He repacked his jacket and held his hand out for his lighter. It took me a moment to comprehend his outstretched hand, but with an "Oh!" I dug in my pocket and gave it back to him. It felt a little light, which meant the cherry had saved precious butane for the next bowl.
We continued our highke (see that?) and eventually came around to the little cemetery just kind of thrust in between the hills and ravines that made up a majority of the Navajo Nation landscape, around Dilkon, anyways. There were fresh flowers around a grave significantly darker than those around it, on account of it was pretty new.
"Awwh, man," said Yoyo. "You hear about that?"
I hadn't. I lived too far to be included in tribal gossip, and had no clue who lay beneath the still-moist dirt, marked only with a pile of rocks. "No. Who's in there?"
"You know Henry's daughter Carla?"
Again, no, but I played along with a nod.
"She had twins, but they didn't make it. Premature," he told me. I could tell by his voice and demeanor he was actually upset. Death wasn't exactly his favorite, and when babies were involved.. I wouldn't ever say he's soft, but he does have soft spots.
After a few moments of standing and paying our respects, he shook his head, walking a distance away to gather himself. I cast another look at the double grave and met him on the slope of a hill where he was loading another bowl. He hit it, and passed it to me, but the cherry hadn't stayed, so I lit it back up with some difficulty stemming from the low fluid level. Again, the cherry didn't stick, so he had to light it back up. This time, though, the fluid was truly out.
Several factors contributed to what happened next. First of all, it's winter out here. Secondly, he doesn't lotion frequently enough (I tell him this all year; he's quite ashy--chau'ee in Navajo). Thirdly, he sparks lighters with the side/back of his thumb knuckle rather than the pad proper like most people. Fourth, like many stoners, he had removed the safety wheel from his lighter, so the little silver bar between the two wheels with the grip? It was gone. So, the winter air having dried his skin to the max, and with him grinding the driest parts of his hands directly against the flint wheel, his desire to toke the weed left him bleeding from the side of his hand, hissing as he dropped the lighter. He picked it up after sucking the blood off of his hand, and inspected the side. A small chunk of his thumb's dried husk was in the ribs of the wheel.
"I guess we'll need to get some /matches/ for this evening," he said, grunting slightly as he threw the lighter.
I had my misgivings about white lighters, and also about leaving flesh around the reservation, and especially doing so in the vicinity of twins' graves. But hey, when you're stoned and paranoid, you have a lot of misgivings, so I let it go and followed him away from the cemetery. As we left I saw the little white tube sitting square in the center of the graves, and decided not to run and grab it. Mostly laziness.
In our meandering, we started climbing the backside of Sunflower Butte, which was enough to get me sort of winded. It wasn't a vertical scale, but it was a steep hike, and I'm in mediocre-at-best-shape. Again, we sat and rested, but from this vantage, I could just make out what looked like a little cave. There are definitely badgers and shit out there, at least according to my grandparents (maybe they were just bogeyman-ing me) but I didn't want to get ambushed. Also, the climb and marijuana had me feeling a little Indiana Jones-y, so I went ahead and peered into the opening in the butte. It was black as fuck. Yoyo came to my side and together we used our phones for the only actual purpose they had on the rez-flashlights.
Now, there's a legend that atop Sunflower Butte there are ruins of an old Navajo village, and if you're lucky, you can find ancient arrowheads crafted by those who made them for use, not sale. That's true; I've climbed the front side of the butte before and seen the ruins. What makes it a legend is that the village is still home to a witch, a shapeshifter- in English, a skinwalker. An evil medicine man who, by donning the pelt of any animal, took on the characteristics of his coat. They could also curse you, place a hex on your life, or kill you. These were some evil fuckers. And I don't fucks with it.
But here we were, gazing into evidence that the legend might be true in its entirety. Inside the cave, if you could call the tiny, claustrophobia-inducing pitch-black rock room a cave, was a collection-a veritable collection, an organized, tended to, collection- of bones. Small animals, medium, large- I shuddered to consider some might be human. Small wooden and stone bowls were laid neatly along the walls, filled with varying shades of ash. Worst of all, the center of the cave was completely bare except for a pair of skinned rabbit skulls.
Yoyo backed away from the mouth of the cave immediately, leaving me alone to take in the macabre contents within. "Let's go back, man," he said flatly, which if you knew him meant that he sounded scared.
I looked back, keeping my light in the cave, and was going to tease him, which if you knew me meant I was definitely scared. As I looked at him, though, his eyes grew wide with fear and he took an instinctive step back. I spun my head back toward the cave and saw the largest tarantula I've ever seen stepping out of its hole. I yelped and fell backwards; I'd been squatting with one knee on the ground and rolled about 20 or 30 feet down the steep hill before I got caught up in dry brush. Thankful it wasn't a cactus, I stood and dusted myself off, shut off my phonelight and nodded. "Yeah let's get the fuck out of here."
Here is where I tell you why we were afraid. Everything in that cave was just screaming "skinwalker" screaming "YEE NAALDLOOSHII" screaming "With it, he goes on all fours"-the literal English translation for the words meaning skinwalker. Skinwalkers are known to curse people by chanting over an animal or human bone or belonging, wrapping the victim's hair around it, and placing it into a tarantula hole. The worst part was the bowls of ash. Their favored poison was made of ground or burned bones, of fingertips, the back of a human skull, and infantile bodies-especially those of twins.
We fairly ran back down the hill, sliding 15 feet at a time through the loose gravel and fine dust. By the time we got down, our shoes were filled, and it was painful enough to walk that we risked taking time to empty our shoes before we left again. We walked, but it was brisk. We said nothing, but backtracked our steps swiftly, saving our breath to keep up our pace. We neared the cemetery on our return trip, and I had a frantic feeling in my chest. It was a panic, which didn't make sense, because I should have already panicked if I was going to. Fortunately my glasses allowed to to ascertain the source of my fear.
Yoyo's lighter was gone.
"Yoyo, you didn't come back for your lighter, did you?"
We stopped. I knew he hadn't, but hopefully I'd been stoned enough to have not noticed when he backtracked for it. The queasy look on his face said there were two possibilities: He had just smelled a Big Mac, or he had not taken the lighter.
I started walking away, but Yoyo was rooted to the same spot he was occupying when he realized his lighter was gone. I turned to face him, and took a tentative step. He was staring at nothing, his gaze unfocused as he rocked slightly on his heels. I thought he was going to collapse, so I bounded toward him to make the catch, but he remained upright. I peered around him, noting the aim of his vision, and began to track his gaze. As soon as I did, though, he snapped violently out of it. He set his eyes on me, his face confused, which soon took on an edge of fear as he realized that I had no idea what the fuck had just happened.
Shaking his head, he forced a pathetic little lip smile. "Just too high. Haha." He actually said "haha," he didn't actually laugh. I could tell the events were getting to him. As he walked off, moving just enough to avoid bumping my shoulder, I cast my best guess of where he was looking at. There was a mass of bushes in the shade of a dying tree, and though I wasn't preternaturally drawn to it like Yoyo seemed to have been, it was eerie, and I kept moving my head around to catch a glimpse of whatever I felt to be staring at me from the brambles.
"Hey," he said from atop the hill we'd smoked on earlier. It was a regular volume, but it broke the silence and my concentration, so I jumped. "I think I smell food."
We made our way to the house, and sure enough the fry bread was already well underway. The extended clan began arriving, and dinner went off relatively hitchless. I kept getting a nag in the back of my head, but there were several explanations. First and likeliest, a mourner had visited the fresh grave, and noted the lighter in a place it didn't belong, and out of respect, removed it. Or someone in the family had hiked around the same path as ours, noticed the lighter, deduced we'd been smoking, and took it without mentioning it. That was likely too, as those who showed up drunk were sort of just silently assessed, then their behavior was attributed to something else entirely. My family likes to feign ignorance about things we don't want to talk about. For example, when Yoyo buys things with the money he makes selling his THC flowers, it's an open secret how he's getting paid. But it's always "I don't know where he's getting his money..."
My mind somewhat settled, I returned to the meal and tried to pay it no more mind. I was actually sort of successful, as long as I reminded myself that someone had innocently removed the lighter from the gravesite whenever my subconscious tried alerting me to something not adding up. I'd already solved it, why worry? It was clean up time, which meant it was time to start digging up dessert. Earlier, underneath the fire, the sugared corn meal was buried to be cooked below ground while the flames licked the raw meat above. I watched my uncle driving the shovel into the dirt and turning the fresh dirt over, and it mixed with the ash, reminding me yet again of the hike.
This time, however, with the imagery of the turned dirt, I had a sudden revelation. I stood up, right in the middle of my mom telling me to get my stuff together; she'd be taking dessert to go, since the sun was beginning to wane with increasing vigor. I walked to the top of the hill to avoid suspicion, and as soon as I was on the other side, ran. I had to get back to the cemetery to see if I was fabricating the memory set off by the digging up of dessert. Yoyo, as it happens, was right on my trail. We arrived, breathing heavily and dusty from our heavy footfalls. Even in the dim light, I could tell that in the corner, not where I'd even thought to look, and a ways from the missing lighter, the grave was turned up. I approached it, sweating into the cold, my throat painful from wheezing the crisp air. What I beheld is what must have been giving me subconscious unease. There were no bodies. The small grave was ransacked.
"Hey!" shouted a voice, heavy with the rez accent. "Get the fuck away from there!" I looked up and saw a man aiming a handgun square at me, standing atop the hill behind the brambles I'd stared into earlier. I couldn't tell with the sun behind his back, but I assumed it was either Henry or Carla's boyfriend. I put my hands up, and backed away, repeating "Okay" as fast as I could.
"Damn fucking yeno's!" he screamed, using the slang for the full yee naaldlooshii. "I knew you'd be back, you always return to the scene of the crime, criminals do that."
It was apparent he was drunk. Whether he had been that way before he discovered the exhumed grave was impossible to tell.
"Stupid criminals," Yoyo grunted, arguably stupidly.
"The fuck you say?" the man mumbled, staggering his whole body to change aim from me to Yoyo.
"Yo, shut up," I whispered.
"We didn't do this. Why would we come back to an empty grave?" Yoyo asked, his hands still raised.
Too drunk to follow, the man growled, "How'd you know it was empty then?"
"We fuckin' looked, man!" Yoyo cried, and he could hardly finish his sentence before the man fired a pair of shots. Thankfully, this was real life and not an action movie (we'd be the good guys anyways, and be saved from gunfire, but still). Shooting a gun accurately, in the dusk, while hammered, from a good 20 yards, is a difficult feat. Both shots missed, and Yoyo and I fled, zigging and zagging, ducking, stopping short and basically doing everything we could to randomize our trail.
As we fled toward our great-grandmother's house, we heard another gunshot, but it was just the one, then grunting and a single terrified cry-cut suddenly short. We'd been hearing the irregular footfalls of our pursuer, but after that one scream-that grown man scream-we were running from silence and sunset. I ran out of breath before Yoyo, and ducked against the wall of the next wash we came across. He had jumped across, and as I slid to the ground, my back against the carved-out wall of dirt, he checked behind us. Apparently satisfied, he crawled into the ravine by my side and sat next to me.
I could hardly breathe, my throat and nose burned from the air, and I was too afraid to move. Generally, you don't want the thing you're running away from to be horrified of anything, and if there was one thing I could decipher from that scream, whoever had shot at us was very much afraid. Besides, there was no way the family hadn't heard those gunshots, and they were sure to be here soon. They had to come investigate, they had to make sure we were okay and that bastard didn't fucking kill us dead in the cemetery.
As I was lost in thought, something must have transpired, for Yoyo grabbed my arm, keeping me silent, but bringing me from my reverie. I strained my ears, even closing my eyes for a while before terror yanked my eyelids back apart. I could just make out the slightest crunch of the tiny pebbles being pressed into the dried clay along the top of the wash. I knew where the sound was coming from, and instinctively looked up.
I wish I hadn't. I don't know how it would have turned out, maybe the same way, but I wish no matter what the cost that I hadn't seen what I saw, because every night I look up at my headboard, I see it still.
As I looked up, over the edge of the wash, a head creeped over the edge the way a cat inches forward before the final pounce. In fact, it was a cat. A mountain lion stared down at me. Rather, the face of a mountain lion did. Below the cat's jawline, I could make out the silhouette of a man's face. The dry pelt was the only thing plainly visible, unnaturally following the contours of a human neck and shoulderline. I did everything I could to avoid looking it in either set of eyes, though I was admittedly blind to his human pair. I traced the edges of the ears above his head, I followed his shoulders, and for my life I don't know why I didn't look away or close my eyes again. Out of my peripheral vision, I could tell Yoyo was staring up with just as much awe. In the middle-distance, I could hear the voices of my family. The thing snapped its gaze up, with predatory swiftness, and accuracy, his face aiming directly toward the echo of the sound. I thought, and this could be my imagination, I thought I saw its ears twitching to ascertain the origin of the noise.
At any rate, my fixation was broken, and the cat was apparently now in a hurry. The apparently cougar arm moved toward the hip (which was hidden by the precipice of the wash) in a very human fashion, and brought what looked like a fingered paw to its face, cupped as if it was holding something. A sudden sharp jerk of the shoulders tipped me off to an inhalation. Knowing an equally sharp exhalation was coming, I rolled onto my side away from Yoyo, covering my head as best as I could. The hiss of the insidious blow came just as I moved, and I remained motionless for a few utterly silent seconds. The shouts from my family growing louder, especially hearing my grandfather shouting intimidating things in Navajo, gave me the courage to look around. The first thing I checked was Yoyo, who was still on his side, then I looked up. The thing was resting its grotesque face against a human-like paw, staring at Yoyo. Beneath the cat jaw, I could see an amused smile. I looked back at Yoyo, and noted he was shivering. I laid a hand on him, and he was cold to the touch.
"Yo!" I blurted, yanking my hand back. I've never felt a corpse before, but that must be the touch of death.
"Robert?" I heard my uncle call.
Yoyo's shivering rapidly devolved into honest convulsions, and I maneuvered to secure his head; his shaking was so violent I feared he would concuss himself against a rock. I paid no mind to the thing watching us, just shouted his name a lot and swore. It would be very cheesy to relate it as: "Yoyo! Yoyo, shit shit shit fuck, YOYO!" so I tell you. Name, swear. That's it. I was freaking the fuck out. Fortunately the noise was enough to broadcast ourselves to my family, who showed up on the side of the wash opposite the thing. When they arrived, yelling for it to "GIT! GO ON THEN!" I looked up, and saw the human mouth snarling beneath the cat's, and witnessed the human body sulk away in an exact feline fashion. That was arguably more disturbing than the face itself. The way he moved... Humans can't move that way, yet I could see the human body in the places the pelt didn't cover.
Yoyo's dad jumped into the wash, and we lifted him out together, running him back to the house. Yo's not a huge guy, but he was shaking with all his strength, and it took two to transport him back. When we arrived and I saw him in the light, I was doubly speechless for my trauma and fear at his appearance. He was utterly pallid, except for his mouth, his lips and tongue, which were apallingly swollen and black. They looked like they had died hours ago, and even had parts which looked to be decomposing already.
It was just Navajo, no English now, and the speech was so rapidfire I could only follow on the most rudimentary level, and only then by following the visual cues. They needed to give him some sort of medicine. Some treatment. My great-grandmother was preparing it, and my grandmother was helping her.
I was on the couch near the door, and when there came a knocking, I ignored it. I had heard it, but it was just so incongruous with the goings-on, I figured I may have imagined it, or misjudged a noise that actually came from the kitchen. But there came a second knock, more insistent. My other cousin, the one who had just had a baby, went to answer it, tears in her eyes for her brother.
"Come on, what's going on?" someone asked outside. It was familiar, maybe someone from the cookout I knew but didn't quite know.
Just as my cousin's hand grasped the handle, there sounded a third knock, now frustrated and accompanied by an aggravated, "Hey come one! Let me in!"
"No!" My voice cracked, my cheeks twisted in fear, I could feel it. "No." My initial interjection was enough to shock my cousin into inaction. Then she realized my fear. The Yee Naaldlooshii are shapeshifters, and impersonators. They have witchcraft backing their efforts. They can mock any animal's call. And after all, people are only animals.
"That's him," I continued. "That voice, that's who was shooting at us. He's dead now."
There was silence and stillness everywhere but in the kitchen, where the medicine was being steeped.
My great-grandmother broke the silence with her token bravado. In Navajo, she shouted toward the door, "What are you waiting for? Some scraps? No table food! Go on, get!" It did nothing to lighten the mood however; she was just less phased than the rest of us by the witches of the reservation.
Then, apparently, there was a different strategy. A light wail came drifting in. I could almost see the cries wafting in through the windows. At first I thought it was some animal call, but within a few seconds it became unmistakably the cries of a baby sounding desperate for food. It was a weak, pitiful cry, but it also sounded as though the poor thing's whole strength was going into it, like a Hail Mary attempt for some milk. The droning went on and on, and within what couldn't have been more than a minute, I had to wrestle my cousin away from the door, she was so determined to let it in.
"He needs me, he needs me!"
I didn't know this until later, when my uncle told me, but that cry was made for my cousin. That soft spot about infant death I mentioned in Yoyo, that wasn't just arbitrary. He was going to be an uncle sooner than fate had decided, but his nephew was born premature. The newborn had only a few minutes of life, and it was spent crying weakly. It was quick to drive to my cousin's nerves, and whether she believed he was on the porch, or only wished, I still haven't asked. Probably won't ever. I finally grappled her onto the couch beside me, my shirt absorbing snot and tears from her frantic crying. After a few more chaotic minutes, all the while set to the music of a deceased infant's cries for life, the tea was ready, and poured into Yoyo's rotting mouth.
First the tongue returned to normal size. Then the lips began to reduce in swelling too, while the tongue simultaneously regained color, and his seizing began to settle. When the last of the blight left his mouth, his eyes snapped open and his body lay still. He rolled away from those holding him and sat perfectly still for an instant of stoic masculinity before he caved to the gravity of the situation and broke down.
The cries stopped, and there was one last solid bang on the door, shaking loose some of the dust on the inside screen, and then it was over. The rest of the night was spent holding each other in the small living room/bedroom, and everyone stayed overnight, awake the entire time.
The next morning, I followed Yoyo back to the cave, where he crawled in in the darkness and retrieved a small bundle from the hole of that enormous tarantula. Sure enough, his lighter was there, bound with sinew to a pathetically small bone we could only pray didn't belong to the babies that had remained underground until yesterday. He took the lighter and placed the bone and sinew back at the entrance of the cave, but away from the spider's home. He left the rest of the cave intact. We'd decided not to exact vengeance on the walk over. We were all going to leave, and though she might be a very tough woman, our great-grandmother was no witch. We weren't going to anger something whose only retribution would fall on someone innocent. So we did all we could do. We hugged our great-grandmother and went home.

(This was for a school project)
Edit 2: I highlighted a lot of the rhymes in italics, which may be hard to see, but pay attention because there are a lot more rhyme schemes that you may not notice.
Some of you may recall the video posted a few weeks back of some guy breaking down the lyrics in Lose Yourself, explaining how Eminem is one of the most talented rappers there are. After watching the video, I figured I would take a stab at breaking down a track, line by line. There are plenty of other songs that I could have done this for, but I figured since the CXVPHER is pretty new, and Em's part is almost 7 minutes long, it would be pretty cool to break it down and pick out some rhymes I thought stood out.

I just turned Slaughterhouse to a quintet Began to trend set, murdered a friend's pet Made shit as ill as it can get went in depth Like a fucking vignette and two bars, skins wet I'm already covered in sweat And I wasn't even ready to come in yet

Beat up a gal, start beef with her pal Probably be wild 'til I'm wrinkled and senile And "Rap God" was a freestyle Off the top of the dome piece while I was sleep on the couch And I'm freestyling now I need a towel, sweat leaks from my brow It's burning my eyes, my cerebral is foul Cause shit I'm thinking about should be illegal I need my head banned like the guy who left Cleveland Ohio And went to South Beach with his talents Scream "fuck you" on the way out and wink with a smile This whole game can eat a dick, I'm going back deep underground But right now I'm back on that bullshit and you I'm singling out Cause you're so fucking outdated you should mingle a while
What the fuck is this clusterfuck of busters Bunch of Bu^alliteration ster Douglas', motherfuckers is one hit wonders
One swing and you're crowned Knocked one out the park, one catchy jingle and now You think you fucking with me cause you sold like 300 thou Bitch, I can jump without my feet ever leaving the ground Reach up, swing from a cloud with 3 thousand people around Evil and vile enough to leap in the crowd And heave a child in a sink hole on Cinco De Mayo When I'm sprinkled in pico de gallo Mardi Gras beads in a towel

Cause we're trying to kill each other, but lyrically The fuck is humility? What is a real emcee? Royce, he came up in the shit with me Never spit that hustler shit, it wasn't a fit for *me* Let them adjust 'til they just get the gist of *me* Just not giving a fuck and plus with the history And muscular distrophy, it wasn't a mystery Why this middle finger was stuck in this upward positioning So what in the fuck is a list to *me*?

Became a millionaire, went downhill from there Became civil, office swivel chair, sterling silverware Screaming life is still unfair til I get a real career The fuck am I gonna do until then? This job is too fulfilling Two gajillion pairs of super villain shoes to fill in And a mood to kill till I plow my Coupe DeVille Into some children at the food pavilion and Build A Bear

In the drug emporium line, I'm soaring I'm pouring Vicodin four at a time ignoring the warning signs On em 'fore I go four wheeler riding Gory and violent and horrifying You surely won't find no one more apalling than I am With this retaliatorial rhyming for Gloria Steinem But I finger her like a witness, show me a line-up

This next section is one of my favorites because almost every word contains or rhymes with oo (as in "You" or "excuse")
I usually am abusive, but excuse me, m'am I guess I must've threw you for a loop like toucan Sam When I said I could use the sample cause you'se a tramp But look how you react to this trigger like When I call you a bigger dyke than the Hoover Dam You're playing right in Lex Luthor's hand It's such a ruthless plan, might even lose a fan But fuck it, Superman wouldn't change in a phone booth for Stan I'm a brand new being like Grand Puba's band Happy as Anderson Cooper having a tuba crammed In his pooper with lubricant, wait, that's too, I can't
[Em also rhymes trigger like and bigger dyke {and might} in that section but it was getting too chaotic with formatting so I left it out]

But I may fight for gay rights especially if a dyke Is more of a knockout than Jenay Rice Play nice, bitch, I punch Lana Del Rey right In the face twice like Ray Rice in broad daylight And in plain sight of the elevator surveillance
[Now does everyone see why he said he'd punch Lana Del Rey? Her name fits right into the rhyme scheme, it wouldn't be the same without it.]
Til her head is banged on the railing Then celebrate with the Ravens Never date an assailant who self-medicates with inhalants I meditate, but I may need a better way to escape The aggression, rage and the anger Cause them restraints on the ankles Heavyweights and an anchor with handcuffs in chains This ain't enough to contain it

This next set is pretty peculiar, because not only does Em rhyme things like "way shut" and "face cut" but he also rhymes "Kate Hudson" with "makeup" by simply emphasizing only certain syllables. It stands out easily when you hear the rap, but when written, it shows how talented the rapper is and how difficult it can be to write good raps, because who would think to rhyme those words?
Devastated from breakup with Kate Hudson Wait, slut your friends, what are they gonna say cause makeup ain't gonna cover That eye that's seven/eighths of the way shut Peppersprayed with your face cut Made my bank like a lay up Off these effing skanks on the way up
Oh, bitch thinks she's heaven sent It's evident that she ain't never been with seven inches
So if she's hesitant to get the hint I'll bet you that I get the message sent who she's messing with Hella quick when I tell a chick not to ever use sex as a weapon when I step in and beat the wretched wench with a crescent wrench Existential detriment to a lesbian devil In the unpleasant stench of an estrogen level That separatists like a Chechnian rebel Impressionist with a pencil A pessimist, with his lips pressed against The edge of this Red Bull

Oh and it's Shady 2.0 We wrote it in roman numerals like they do for the Super Bowls Cause it's supposed to confuse you hoes The flows lose you as usual, so juvenile 2 year old when I go to the studio It's only music but don't be foolish though You don't know me through it ho but you can blow me to it though In my homie's Buick Been known to lose it though so if I overdo it you drove me to it When I step in the vocal booth like I'm supposed to do And I murder you on a fuckin' track like Tony Stewart In one take, if I fuck up and I don't redo it You couldn't sound grown on a beat if you were moaning to it The day I don't say fuck you all, you can throw me through it

Obviously, there are a lot more lyrics from the CXVPHER that I could have broken down, but like I said, I picked out the ones that I thought were the best and showed how talented of a writer Eminem actually is. Hope you guys liked this, cause I spent a lot of time on this post, listening and reading the lyrics about a kajillion and 80 times to make sure I got everything right.
Edit: formatting