Just Write the Next Fucking Sentence

by Nate

a book review

The novel is Flesh. The author is David Szalay. The accolades are the 2025 Man Booker Prize, which, if you are uninitiated, is one of the more prestigious literary awards among the stuffy-ass faux intellectual set. The reason to read the fucking thing, besides the fact that it can be deeply and appreciably consumed in a weekend despite being 375 pages long, is that it is an incredible work of just writing the next fucking sentence. 

A straw man could level minimalism as a criticism, but the wise sage recognizes that minimalism is the fucking point. You get the character's name (Istvan), a general sense of what's going on in his life (lower-middle-class in Hungary), and an early inciting incident (a sexual awakening in his teens) that takes about 20 pages. Something quite fucked up happens on page 23 with almost no fanfare. It's a gunshot shock that feels sudden until you go back and realize you've been on rails to get to that point without even noticing it because this book is a magic trick of just telling you the most important thing that's happening, even if it's nothing. It is just writing the fucking sentence then moving on to the next one.

A problem that continues to plague society—and one that is in some ways a response to the isolation and segregation that comes with an online-first existence—is the desire to have things explained, to have someone clearly tell you what something means, to share how someone should feel about something, to reduce within the consumer of culture any need to sit or interoperate or process or disagree about what one act / art / effect does or does not mean. If that last sentence was even quasi-legible to you, this novel is a boon. 

It never tells us in any significant way how any of the characters feel about each other, unless they are directly telling each other in the dialog. It never shades how we, as readers, are supposed to understand or respond to what is happening in Istvan's life. It's the kind of novel that three people can read and come away with three completely different interpretations on and all of them can be both correct and wrong as hell. It archives the specific universality that all great art strives for: it exists both as a direct expression of perspective and vessel so vacant that anyone can pour themselves into it and see their own reflection. 

And, not for nothing, if fucking moves. It runs. I was shocked by A) how little was happening B) how propulsive what little there was turned out to be and C) how thrilled I was to be able to apply my own judgement or reaction to what happened without the hand of the author pointing me in a direction or offering any legible direction of their own.

The way that Szalay achieves this is by just writing the next fucking sentence and not worrying about anything else. He is wholly enveloped in his characters, his only service is what they are doing now, to each other, and what they do next as a result of whatever just happened (a blow job, a trip to the beach, a job interview, a death). This is less like a novel and more like peering into someone's life as a ghost might; strictly observing, explaining nothing, experiencing everything.

In closing, a good deal of this book is about smoking cigarettes on balconies. Strong recommend, an easy One Nate Up.

Drop the Puck: Power Play Revenge

Stanley Cup Playoffs: Game 5 Recap

by Zach

Like a sports reporter on deadline, I don't have a lot of time to bang this one out. Thankfully, it's not the last hockey game of the year. We have at least one more after Carolina beat Vegas 4-2 to go up 3-2 in the series. The Stanley Cup will be in T-Mobile Arena on Sunday night, but not for the first time in history. It was there in 2018 for the first time, when Alex Ovechkin hoisted it after the Washington Capitals won their first Cup.

Brandon Bussi played, again, over Frederik Andersen, and he felt more solid in this game. Carolina's power play is amazing, and they managed two power play goals in the game (in five opportunities) to make the difference. Andrei Svechnikov scored both of them; after a middling playoffs, that has to feel good.

Vegas Coach John Tortorella is up to his usual antics, vowing to leave his clothes in his Raleigh hotel in anticipation of a Game 7, which he has guaranteed. "We'll be back here," he proclaimed.

We'll see. Vegas has been good at home. If I had to guess, it will go seven. A series this good deserves seven games, and I think Vegas is talented enough and will ride the home crowd to chase Bussi in Game 6 and, indeed, allow Tortorella to reclaim his clothes next week.

It's funny, the contrast between the NBA and the NHL. Game 4 between the Knicks and Spurs was at Madison Square Garden. In attendance were Ben Stiller, Mariska Hargitay, Jerry Seinfeld, Larry David, Timothée Chalamet, John McEnroe, Taylor Swift, Este and Danielle and Alana Haim, Kylie Jenner, and Tracy Morgan. That's not to mention perennial fans like Spike Lee and former players like Latrell Sprewell, Patrick Ewing, John Starks, Clyde Frazier, Bill Bradley, and Stephon Marbury. An article on NHL.com about celebrities at Game 5 only names Norwegian soccer player Erling Haaland as being in attendance. Contrast, indeed.

But who cares. Everyone knows that hockey is the best sport to watch live, and anyone who says otherwise is misinformed.

In other news: Carolina captain Jordan Staal scored his sixth goal of the Final to firmly establish himself as a potential Conn Smythe Trophy (playoff MVP) winner should the Canes win it all.

Carolina hasn't lost two straight in the playoffs yet. Vegas will have to make them do that to claim their second Cup in four years.

Game 6 is tomorrow night in Vegas.

Drop the Puck: Brandon Bussi's Parents Are Emotional

Stanley Cup Finals 2026: Game 4 Recap

by Zach

Three things made me tear up recently:

• Watching all the people yell "FUCK" in unison in the video that we've all watched thousands of times (thanks Joe for the reminder).
• Listening to "Stan" again for the first time in years.
• Watching a highlight video of Alex Ovechkin and how he's "built different." Because he is. He said there was absolutely no chance he would break Wayne Gretzky's record, but here we are, with him having broken it and then some. I hope so badly he comes back next year.

Now, for the game. Another good one, another great one, in fact. The Canes, somewhat unsurprisingly, stayed with goalie Brandon Bussi. Frederik Andersen didn't look good in Game 3, and Bussi at least kept his team in the game. Coach Rod Brind'Amour said that Andersen needed a break, and so he didn't even dress as the backup for Game 4. It was Bussi's game, no matter what. 

I know the feeling of having a goalie between the pipes who you don't feel that confident about. I felt that way with Bussi throughout the night. It just felt shaky, watching him. I hoped he wouldn't be the reason they lost the game. Carolina is the better team, I think, but Vegas has that annoying scrappy playoff energy that can lead teams to win series' they don't deserve to win. That includes no-names like Brett Howden scoring another goal, his fourteenth(!) of the playoffs. 

In the end, it wasn't. Carolina generated enough offense to beat a Vegas team that wasn't as good as them, and they won, 5-3, a final empty net goal sealing the victory.

Bussi is a great story, regardless. He was cut by the Florida Panthers before the season started, and was claimed off waivers by the Hurricanes, only getting a chance to play after Pyotr Kotchetkov went down with an injury. He ended up making the most starts for the team during the season, going 31-6-2—an insane record. Andersen, the more experienced pick, was named the playoff starter, but when Bussi got the call to start Game 4, his parents had to scramble to get to Vegas in time. They traveled from Long Island to make it in time for the game, and there are some adorable shots of them being very nervous throughout, and tearing up after the game was decided. During a postgame interview, Sportsnet showed Bussi that footage. "I can't believe you guys did that to me on live TV," he said, getting a bit emotional himself.

The game was strange and dramatic. Carolina went up 2-0—Logan Stankoven scored about a minute in, and is quickly becoming a hero for the entire state of North Carolina—but Mark Stone got behind the Canes defense and scored on a breakaway to make it 2-1. Captain Jordan Staal made it 3-1 in the first, and then the Golden Knights scored again, seemingly, at the first period buzzer, but the puck crossed the goal line a few tenths of a second after the green light had gone on.

But Vegas doesn't fold. They scored early in the second, and then Howden tied the game with an insane shot above Bussi's blocker. It remained 3-3 into the third, where Vegas got a power play chance. As became a theme for the game, Jack Eichel—who engineered a trade from Buffalo to Vegas after becoming disillusioned with the Sabres, yet another reason for the upstate New York-friendly PoYB literati to hate them—had several shot attempts, but they weren't high-danger chances, and Bussi stopped them. 

(Also on an important PoYB note: T-Pain played a pregame concert for the fans outside the arena and sounded the famous Golden Knights siren inside the arena during introductions to get the crowd hyped up. I will defer to the EIC: does this make the Golden Knights more likeable in the eyes of the PoYB readership, or less? During this week, of all weeks, no less, where a discussion about the autotune-happy artist took place!)

Then, with less than fourteen minutes left, series goat Shea Theodore attempted to pass the puck forward from behind his own net. He accidentally passed it directly to our favorite Canadian Bro, Seth Jarvis, who had a mini-breakaway, but was stopped by Carter Hart. That set off a mad scramble, where Jarvis batted the puck out of midair as seemingly the entire Vegas team surrounded him. The puck found its way to Nikolaj Ehlers (don't hockey players have cool names?), who passed it to Staal as he was falling down. Staal managed to get just enough on his backhand to get it past an out-of-position Hart and give the Canes the lead. Don't look now, but Staal has scored in each of the four games of the Final, and now has five goals in those games—a potential candidate for Final MVP if Carolina wins it all.

With two minutes left, Vegas pulled Hart to give themselves a six on five advantage. Tomas Hertl won the faceoff and got the puck directly to Eichel, who had a wide-open, point blank chance, but he missed the net. Soon afterward, Ehlers caromed the puck off the boards, and it went all the way down the ice, ending up in the net. Bussi's parents cried, and the series was about to be tied.

The Canes haven't yet named their Game 5 starter, but I'd be surprised if they went back to Andersen here, even though he got his day off and even though I feel more confident, overall, with him in net.

We continue to follow our 2025 World Series blueprint.

Game 5 is tomorrow night, back in Carolina.

Drop the Puck: One for the Ages?

Stanley Cup Finals: Game 3 Recap

by Zach

I'm getting 2025 World Series vibes from this Stanley Cup Final.

Vegas is the team that seems to be good every year, and it's annoying, because you wish they didn't exist, and they are a team that needs to be hated. They are the Los Angeles Dodgers. The Carolina Hurricanes have won a Cup, but it was a long time ago, and their fans are desperate for some success. It's been a long time, and they've been disappointed by the team that plays the sport most associated with the city (the Charlotte Hornets have never won a championship). They are the Toronto Blue Jays, who play in a hockey city where the team is perpetually disappointing.

Game 3, too, felt like Game 3 of the World Series. Tied 1-1, the World Series game went 18 innings, only to finish in an instant, with a Freddie Freeman walk-off homerun for the Dodgers. This game went to double overtime, only to finish in an instant, on a fluky goal that was absolutely heartbreaking for the Canes. 

We don't know if this series will end the same way as the World Series did. But if this one doesn't go seven games, I will feel robbed. It has the makings of an all-time classic.

Consider the facts of this game:

• The Golden Knights scored two goals in the second period, and both of them were waved off—the first for offsides, the second for goaltender interference. In the end, they still scored the first of the game to take a 1-0 lead on goalie Frederik Andersen, who wasn't good in this game. He was pulled before the third period.
• Mitch Marner is making Maple Leafs fans miserable. He scored a natural hat trick, with three straight second period goals to put Vegas up 4-0. The last one was on a breakaway slapshot that was an absolute eff you to everyone associated with the Canes organization.
• The game seemed over at that point. Brandon Bussi came in as the Canes goalie, and there were no goals in the first seven minutes of the third. Marner got a penalty shot after he was slashed on a shorthanded breakaway, but couldn't score his fourth goal, and that's what gave the Canes life. In a flurry, the Canes scored three goals in the span of one minute. It was 4-3, and we were set up for a wild finish.
• The Canes got a power play toward the end of the game after defenseman Shea Theodore sent a puck over the glass for delay of game. They capitalized quickly, pulling their goaltender and creating a scrum in front of the net. Andrei Svechnikov, who Alex Ovechkin knocked out in a fight during the Caps-Canes 2019 first round series, put the puck in to tie the game with less than two minutes to go. Insane!
• There were no goals in the first overtime, although there were chances. Then, in the second overtime, Theodore, the delay of game goat from the third period, shot a puck wide of the net. It bounced off the boards and knocked off Canes winger Jordan Martinook's stick as it shot back directly towards Bussi, who wildly flailed his left skate to get it out of the way but wasn't successful. The puck caromed off his skate and into the net for the Canes second own goal of the game (another was knocked in inadvertently by Canes defenseman Sean Walker, as well, although Marner was credited with the goal). Theodore was the hero, although not because of his skill—he just got a bounce that the hockey gods decided to send Vegas's way.

If the Canes had managed to fully come back in this game, I would say the series was theirs. Instead, they're behind. But if the World Series is any indication, the Canes will win Games 4 and 5 before losing heartbreakers in Game 6 and 7. Game 7 will be a classic, remembered for ages. And PoYB's readers will be devastated.

Let's hope this one is different.

Game 4 is tomorrow night in Vegas.

Drop the Puck: Seth Jarvis is a Canadian Bro

The Stanley Cup Finals: Game 2

by Zach

Maeve's comment from my first post encouraged me to go down a very short rabbit hole to learn a bit more about Hurricanes forward Seth Jarvis. 

I didn't watch FaceOff. The hockey-related media I was most aware of this year is the HBO show Heated Rivalry, which follows (as far as I have learned, I haven't watched it) a romantic relationship between two rival players. Even NHL Commissioner Gary Bettman has admitted he binged this show. He probably watched FaceOff too, but more out of obligation (although it does seem to be an exciting and fun show profiling NHL players). 

I learned that Jarvis had a vision board on which he circled, ten times, "Make the NHL." From other videos, I learned that he has childhood friends, who bro it up with him and who drove 30 hours from Winnipeg to Boston to watch Jarvis win the Four Nations Faceoff (hockey's midseason version of the World Baseball Classic). They are bros, and Jarvis, too, is a bro, part of a long line of Canadian hockey bros that have existed and will continue to exist.

Jarvis scored 32 goals in the regular season, which is a lot. Going into yesterday's game, he had only scored three in the playoffs through fourteen games, which is about half that pace. That's unlike Vegas forward Brett Howden, who scored twelve goals in the regular season, but after last night's game (in which he scored two goals), has thirteen goals for the playoffs. 

But the playoffs are about clutch moments, and last night, Jarvis delivered. He scored the game winning goal 3:56 into overtime to propel the canes to a 4-3 victory in Game 2 to even up the Stanley Cup Final at 1-1. 

After he scored, the camera cut to a large section of fans, all wearing "Jarvis" jerseys, so I assume some of the faces there were familiar to FaceOff fans as Jarvis's childhood friends. They were bros, friend bros and family bros, and they were there to celebrate Seth Jarvis for scoring the biggest goal of his career.

This series has the makings of a good one. Vegas was up 2-0 deep into the third period until Logan Stankoven made it 2-1 at 10:20 of the third after aggressively stealing the puck in the offensive zone and pushing the puck past Carter Hart, nearly singlehandedly. He created momentum, and soon afterward, Mark Jankowski scored his first of the playoffs to even the game. 

That's when things got really crazy. Vegas forward Ivan Barbashev went in on a breakaway and had three chances on Canes goalie Frederik Andersen as he crazily circled the net, desperate to put the puck in. The puck eventually found its way in the net, but the referees ruled the puck had been pushed in, illegally, due to goaltender interference. Vegas coach John Tortorella used his coach's challenge, a risky move because by rule the Canes get a two-minute power play if the challenge is not overturned. It wasn't, and on the ensuing power play, Shane Gostisbehere, the Ghost Bear of Philadelphia, scored from close to the blue line to give the Canes a 3-2 lead.

It wasn't quite enough, as Mitch Marner made a great play to keep the puck in after Vegas had pulled their goalie, sending the puck to the net, where captain Mark Stone tipped it in. We were headed to overtime. Soon after the period had begun, Game 1 winning-goal-scorer Tomas Hertl tripped Jarvis, sending the Canes to another power play.

The Ghost Bear held the puck and then deceptively threw a no-look pass Jarvis's way. Our Canadian bro let forth a one-timer, reminiscent of the #OviShot from the #OviSpot (the power-play one-timer from the left circle that Alex Ovechkin has scored on countless times). It went through the smallest of spaces, between Hart's blocker and right pad, and into the net. Jarvis celebrated by pantomiming taking an arrow from his quiver and shooting it before being mobbed by his teammates.

The series now shifts to Vegas. Game 3 will be tonight at 8 PM Eastern. The Golden Knights like to do weird and wild entrance productions at the beginning of their games, so I'm sure they have something up their sleeve.

Drop the Puck: Zach's Recap of the Start of the 2026 Stanley Cup Finals

An Oilers-Less Stanley Cup Final: Game 1

by Zach

The Vegas Golden Knights are a team to hate, for many reasons. 

Their starting goaltender, Carter Hart, was accused of sexually assaulting a woman in a hotel room in 2018 during the World Junior Championships, along with four other members of the Canadian team. He is the only player to have signed with an NHL team after the five were acquitted but banned from the NHL for a period of time as part of a reinstatement process. The details of the case are horrifying. The Golden Knights signed Hart this season, after saying they "remain committed to the core values that defined our organization from its inception." 

If that's true, well, I don't trust them at all, because Vegas's core values are questionable at best, as illustrated by the Hart matter but for other reasons, too. An expansion team in 2017, the Golden Knights benefited from a new NHL expansion draft policy that was intended to make them competitive in their first year but worked a little too well. They made the Stanley Cup Final in their first season, which should never happen. Thankfully, karma got them, and they were defeated by the GOAT, Alex Ovechkin, and the Washington Capitals in five games. They found themselves back in the finals in 2023, that year winning it all. Now they're back again. Fuck frontrunning teams, and fuck them. At least the Los Angeles Dodgers are working within the pre-existing system to become a dynasty.

That's not all. The team fired their coach, Bruce Cassidy, with eight games left in the regular season, and replaced him with John Tortorella, who is known for antics like threatening to fight a fan in the stands when he was coaching the New York Rangers during their 2008-09 first round series against the Capitals (he was suspended for one game). There are multiple job openings for head coaching positions around the league, but because Cassidy is still technically under contract with Vegas, the team has the right to prevent him from interviewing for other positions while the season is still going on (even though he is doing no work for the team right now). They also have the right to let him interview for other jobs. But they've blocked him from doing so, meaning he will likely be passed up for positions he might have otherwise gotten. Vegas is trying to hide behind the statement that their focus is currently on the playoff run. How, exactly, would allowing Cassidy to interview for other positions distract them? It's cruel and makes no sense.

So, yeah. Fuck Vegas. They do have former Capital Nic Dowd on their team (who was acquired at the trade deadline this season), as well as Mitch Marner, who choked consistently in the playoffs with the Toronto Maple Leafs (along with the rest of the team; what a sad organization) before finding a home in Vegas. I wouldn't mind seeing either of them lift the Cup, especially Dowd, who is a great guy, but not enough to excuse Vegas winning it all.

Ah, yes, there is another team playing in the Final this year, against Vegas. It's the Carolina Hurricanes, who aren't a very fun team to watch, but are very tough to play against. I don't particularly like the Canes—they knocked the Capitals out of the playoffs in 2019 and 2025—but I respect their coach, Rod Brind'Amour (a former Philadelphia Flyer), and I appreciate their hard-nosed, check-first style of play. Brind'Amour is trying to become the second person ever to win the Cup with the same team as a player and a coach (he captained the championship-winning Canes in 2006). He's been the coach for eight years, and he's experienced many playoff defeats with the team, after a few deep runs. I also like the Canes captain, Jordan Staal, who signed a ten-year extension with the Canes in 2012 in order, in part, to play with his brother, Eric.

We should all be rooting for the Hurricanes—hard—in this series.

As for Game 1 in Raleigh? It was a great game, back and forth, lots of goals. Carolina went up 2-0, then Vegas scored three unanswered. It was tied 4-4 in the third period, but unfortunately, Vegas won it, 5-4, on a late goal from Tomas Hertl. 

I'm sure future posts will talk more about the games themselves. But for now, consider this your guide to why you should hate Vegas.

Game 2 is tomorrow night, Thursday 6/4, at 8 PM.

Gloria's Christmas Playlist

This is a little mixtape for else anyone who also likes Christmas music, and honestly, maybe those that hate it will find a song of two they can vibe to.

I wanted to start this with a different song Lithuanian song, Tyli Naktis, but couldn't find the right version. "Tyli Naktis" translates to “Silent Night,” and the songs kept being the standard "Silent Night" translated into Lithuanian, not the one that we sing every Kūčios (Christmas Eve), a version that might only still exist in the small paper-bound book, with a torn cover that is falling apart on top of my mom's piano. Instead we will start with a Lithuanian song for the Winter solstice (1). The protagonist is sent on a quest to gather impossible things from a magical winter world (summer snow, hay grown in winter, etc.). I love the beauty and simplicity of this almost-chanted melody. Lithuania was the last country in Europe to adopt Christianity, so it's fitting to start off with a pagan song.

We will get to more Eastern European folklore late in this mixtape with Polonaise (13). Rimsky-Korsakov's opera Christmas Eve is based on Gogol's Evenings on a Farm Near Dikanka, and in this Christmas Eve scene, a widow agrees to help the devil steal the moon. Spoiler alert: they do steal the moon during a snowstorm. Another Christmas wish granted.

We move into the theme from the 1994 movie version of Little Women. I consider both Little Women (2) and Meet Me in St. Louis (14) to be holiday movies—if not strictly, at least in spirit. Both beautifully show the passage of time and capture some of the less positive feelings that arise this time of year.

That melancholy that so many people feel as an undercurrent in this season is reflected in the original lines to "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas." "Have yourself a merry little Christmas / It may be your last / Next year we may all be living in the past... / Faithful friends who were dear to us / Will be near to us no more." Judy Garland made them change the lyrics to something less gloomy and more wistful, but both sets of lyrics hold truth.

But to keep things a little more upbeat, you'll find there are a lot of jazz and soul hits on this to groove along to the holiday (3) (9) (10) (11) (12), as well as some classic Christmas hits (4) (5) (7) (8) (15).

A few artists that I saw perform this December are featured as well. I missed Bela Fleck and the Flecktones perform at Newport Jazzfest this summer but was excited to see them at the Miller Theater a couple of weeks ago. It was a beautiful show. They performed with the Alash Ensemble, which is a group of Tuvan throat singers and masters of traditional Siberian and Tuvan instruments. Which you’d think would be a wild mash-up with a bluegrass/ jazz band, but it works surprisingly well (6). Another artist I saw this month was George Burton (17). He  performed as the pianist for the Dezron Douglass Quartet at Solar Myth last week. They were great. That show was definitely less experimental than this piece, but I just love this and how it falls apart at the end.

The longest song on this album is Alfred Reed's "Russian Christmas Music" (16). A song that I could probably still play if you handed me a bass clarinet. We played for my high school band three times when I was there. It was supposed to be a piece played every other year, but our football team were State Champions one year, which really cut into the band's time to practice for the Christmas concert, and our director needed to beef up the program with songs we could easily perform. Since 75% of us played it at least once, this song fit the bill. A what a song it is! I did a pen drawing inspired by it for my AP Studio Art portfolio in 2008, and it can be found in this blog post, haha.

And that's it. A weird little mixtape for your holiday season. Wishing you love, light, and peace throughout this season and in the coming year ♥️

Yours, 

Gloria

War, Blogs, Friendship, Life, and Mixtapes About Eating Ass

I thought it was probably time for me to make my thoughts on this matter clear, and end the BLOG DRAMA once and for all. The way to self-fulfillment is blogging, and I've spent too much of my time writing in private emails and not writing publicly on the blog.

I wrote an email on 11/12/25 and sent it to both Brian and Zach. I made it clear that everything I wrote was going to be posted in a blog post, and gave one week for any responses to be made to what I wrote, with the promise that those responses would be included in the blog post as well. Any responses I received are included today. Any lack of response should not be considered a "no comment," but instead, an indication that the conversation is ongoing, and will remain ongoing for as long as Blogspot allows us to stay in this space.

Please feel free to comment on this blog post if you have any questions or concerns, or wish to make your voice known publicly as well. Thanks for being here!

     —Joe

Fatter, Older, Displaced: REVIEWS OF OTHER ALBUMS

by Nate

I've been really burning on a bunch of albums. Until I am able to recover the password to my own blog, I will send them to the EiC of this blog and he will post them, because anything you send to him via digital correspondence will make its way in here eventually. 

OTHER ALBUMS:

Hell Is an Airport by Liquid Mike: Hell Is an Airport sounds like listening to the iTunes previews of an alternate-universe version of Weezer, where their animating inspiration was Sugar instead of KISS. The beefier guitar tone from Paul Bunyon's Slingshot is back, and the album has a welcome slickness that feels less like formal polish and more like the pinnacle of home recording capabilities. You can hear that high-gloss DIY oozing out of "Liam Gallagher" and "Meteor Hammer," though there remains a charming lo-fi quality to the vocals, which never quite fill the space the way the rest of the mix does.

Because this is a Liquid Mike joint, the songs only take as long as they need to, which titillates and frustrates in equal measure. "Claws" is perhaps the band's most complete song, the earworm most capable of breaking the gravitational force of Michigan and reaching higher orbits. "Bad Lung" would do it for sure if only the band could be assed to make it longer than 76 seconds. There's a heartbreaking thrill to having the floor fall out of songs like "Hell Is an Airport" and "Lit from the Wrong End," and there's a logic to going all-the-fuck-out for only a minute. Goddamn if it doesn't make you want to hit play again.

HIGHWAY TO THE END by DARK THOUGHTS: LP1 was an exciting exploration in giving a band the muscled-up front-end mixing blast of Dillinger Escape Plan and letting them basically try to rewrite the first five Ramones albums. HIGHWAY TO THE END follows the same atlas, this time out sounding more like Teenage Bottlerocket. You can make a steady living playing The Fest and selling out small-pressings on Dirtnap Records, but you could do more with a guitar solo or a melodic vocal concept more evolved than "first idea, best idea." 

Twelve by Psycho Moon Project: Foreboding tones, but coming from the computer as opposed to from the earth or from a druid circle. Digital deterioration as feel-bad music. To do more than identify would be to pass judgment on a world frankly not worth visiting. May the goblins and ghouls enjoy their doxxing soundtrack.

Home Taping Is Killing Music by Home Videos: Feeling equally indebted to bad-times slowcore of Smog and the second-wave bad times emo of Sunny Day Real Estate or Rainer Maria, Home Taping Is Killing Music has welcome moody dourness to its presentation that really scratches a rainy-fall itch. The album's best songs clock around five minutes and take their time getting to where they're going, but the path from A-to-B is always clear and the payoff is worth it, especially on could-be future teen classics like "an excuse, an apology, again" and "the devil's credit score." The other standout is "underwater breathing," which has the kind of cross-genre appeal that could unite sweater-wearers of all stripes. 

Six-Legs Inexperience by Bug Day: Claiming your release was intended to be an EP if not for the song "Ghosts," then for the song "Ghosts" to be nine minutes of tuneless, disorganized, cacophonous, instrument smashing, is a tremendous joke worthy of Archers of Loaf. Doesn't make the song any good, of course, but it's a great bit as far as bits go. 

Forget that, though. Forget, too, the excellent Guided by Voices cover that closes the album, though maybe don't totally forget that since Bug Day celebrates the same free-wheeling freedom of creativity that will power GBV well past the heat death of the universe. The band is developing a nice track record for writing pathos and meaning out of repetition and distortion, and they come back to that stone-wrung well and find water again with alt-rock smashes like "Methane Lake" and "The Observation Tower." This ain't pop music, so don't expect a tight package. This ain't punk music, so don't be surprised when you find out the fuckers can play. There are ribbons of nastiness throughout, but they come off more like proof that there is no spoon rather than clear direction of intent. Bug Day make alt-rock that can do it all. You either catch up or catch the next one. 

OILERS Dispatch: It's Over.

by Zach

Connor McDavid tried to look chill before Game 6. I saw him skating around the ice, a minute before puck drop, his facial muscles relaxed, as if he knew there would be a Game 7. He even said as much to the media. Why would they go back to Edmonton, they asked him? "Because we're going to win," he replied.

I sensed something was off in his expression, though. It's after the fact, now, and easy for me to say, but I'm pretty sure there was fear there. Fear, again, of coming up short. Fear that he, the greatest and most skilled player of the generation, wouldn't ever get a Cup. That fear remains. Connor McDavid has to go through another depressing offseason, hoping for another shot at the thing, knowing the odds of him getting back to the finals for a third straight year are very, very low.

Before the series started, I assumed the OILERS were a team of destiny. That they would win it all for the sole reason that they lost last year. Florida wouldn't go back to back. McDavid and company wouldn't let this chance slip away. It was impossible.

Turns out I hadn't watched enough Florida Panthers hockey this year. Because if I had, I would have seen they were built for the postseason. This wasn't about destiny. This was about a team playing right.

As for Canada? There are seven hockey teams north of the border, which gives the country a roughly 25 percent chance to win the Cup every year. But it's been over 30 years since it happened. There's something strange going on. The pressure, the expectation? Is Canada spiritually devoid? Was it born under the wrong star sign? Canada received its independence on July 1, so it is a cancer sign. CANada. CANcer. Perhaps this is the reason the hockey bros drinking Labatt Blue fail time and time again. 

People from Edmonton seem alright. I say let's take a trip there, one of these days, as a blog. We don't need Eve 6 concerts. We need to wander aimlessly around Canadian cities, specifically ones where the OILERS play, and live out our dreams. We may never drink out of the Cup, but we will LIVE.

Can we explain this blog's homerism for the Oilers? I mostly just want the down-and-out ones to win. I want McDavid to get a Cup. I am a man of the people. Maeve has explained her side well. As for Nate, he has explained nothing publicly. But it comes down to something spiritual, too. I know this for a fact. He has admitted as much. And now it is time for him to come clean. What fuels his OILERS passion? Let's hear it. Let's hear it right now.

And so ends another hockey season, without the Capitals winning the Stanley Cup. But they won it once. I'd love for them to win it again. If they win it next year—likely Ovechkin's last—then that would be an Elway-esque sendoff. But for now, I can bask in the glow I had in a South Street bar in June 2018, where I watched the Caps beat Vegas in Game 5, hugging my friend tight, all my dreams come true.

OILERS Dispatch: Game 5, Stanley Cup Finals

by Zach

I watched half of the first period and the entire second period of Game 5 before turning it off—I was just too tired. What can I say? The Florida Panthers are built for the postseason, and the OILERS are talented but rely on their talent to perform at a high level in order to be successful. When that talent can't get through (i.e. because of suffocating playoff defense, which the Panthers know how to do), well, then they are doomed to failure. 

The Panthers weren't the best team in the regular season. They weren't favored against any of the teams they played in the playoffs. They've had to go on the road to begin every series. And, yet, they have found a way. They crushed the Lightning in the first round. The Maple Leafs should have beaten them in Round 2—up 2-0, then got it to a Game 7—but the pressure in Toronto is just way too immense, and the Leafs folded, like they always do. The Carolina series was weird because Carolina is also really built for the postseason, but the Hurricanes turned into a pumpkin against the Panthers. 

I really didn't see how Edmonton could let this chance slip away. Connor McDavid—the most skilled player in the game, the most fun player to watch—needs a Cup. All the greats do. Can you imagine if Alex Ovechkin hadn't won that Cup in 2018? Even though he set the record for the most goals ever, he would eternally be looked at as a loser. That's how it will look for McDavid if he can never win one. How many more chances will he get? That seems to be enough motivation for the OILERS to pull this one out.

But the Panthers are just so good and so disciplined and so built for playoff hockey. It's hard to beat. The thing that has surprised me at times is that the Panthers have felt slightly more motivated. Their acquisition of long-time heel Brad Marchand at the trade deadline from the Bruins might be the main reason I feel this way. He scored two goals tonight that were nothing but pure motivation. Skill, yes—he turned the OILERS inside out on the plays—but grit and motivation. I haven't seen the same from the OILERS, who rely on their skill mostly. 

The OILERS goalie situation is in flux. It's not why they're losing, but the Panthers have the reliable Bobrovsky between the pipes, and it's not clear who will be starting Game 6 for the OILERS (guessing Picard again though). 

It's clear that everyone should be rooting for the OILERS regardless. The Panthers won last year, and back-to-back champions are less fun. I'm not one of the people that likes to make fun of Canada. Canada deserves its first Cup since 1992 way more than South Florida, of all places, deserves another one. If the Panthers win, it will mean Florida has taken four of the last six Cups (Tampa Bay won in 2020 and 2021). And that's no fun. If you throw in Vegas winning in 2023, that's five of six hot weather destinations winning the Cup since COVID. And that's not OK.

Game 6 is Tuesday. The Stanley Cup will be in the building. It must not remain there. It must travel to Edmonton for the pivotal Game 7. The OILERS must win in order for the world to remain right and just.

Letter to the Editor: Frank, 12/12/24

by Frank

Dear Editor,

I will admit when I first got sent the image of the La Salle branded alcohol, you were the first person to come to my mind. For all the reasons you've already covered here, it struck me as cruelly hypocritical considering the moral turpitude with which they charged you. I think of the "friends of Joe K***" day. At the time, the pain and shame and literal money they cost you felt a little like the cost of doing business as a young person; the "man" cracking down one last time as we shifted into adulthood. With the benefit of time and space, the overreach only makes me queasier.

I'm not looking to change your relationship with La Salle. I think your anger is warranted. I'm not even sure what struck a chord with me to respond as a frequent reader of PoYB if a much less frequent contributor. Struck enough of a chord that I felt compelled to do more than comment on said post. I suppose two thoughts:

I spent a very long time feeling like "I" had let "La Salle" down. For varied reasons, by the end of my third semester, I had lost my full scholarship and had to transfer under the cover of night to the school my father was a teacher at, coming back to La Salle for one more semester my "junior year" after getting an associate's degree before flaming out again, and leaving academia behind me for good*. This all happened with me in a state of what could generously be called holding my cards close to my chest, and what could less generously and probably more accurately be called deceiving my friends and outer family as to what was going on with me. Ask any of our La Salle friend group, and I'm sure no one would have a clear idea at any time of what my actual enrollment status was, a fact I used to my advantage to do ALL FOUR YEARS of the college improv group. 

I have a hard time even now talking about that period freely, almost reflexively putting my guard of shame up. I will note that one of, if not the most, admirable traits of the Editor of this blog is his willingness to publicly examine his life through writing and discourse. People truly know where he stands on things, and consistently have in the over 25 years that I've known him. It's taken a LOT of recent talk therapy (no ketamine as of yet) to get me to examine myself honestly and fairly even in private. I suppose my point is it strikes me you were so angry at for how La Salle treated you for so long, and now are in a place where it's become less binary. I've been so angry at myself for "ruining" my college experience for so long, and only now give the nineteen-year-old version of myself grace, and also free myself of any obligation to do right by an institution. I was bound by holding a successful commencement in esteem, an outsider looking in at what and who I was supposed to be, and had failed. Only with the clarity of time can I see the successes and failures that lead me to where I am today. The path was the path, and if the path had been different, would I have my family, my friends, my pursuit now of finishing a degree on my own terms? 

I say all this to highlight the irony of my second point: I did a total of four semesters at La Salle of education, and none of them really successfully. I have a degree from a different institution and am currently enrolled in another. So why do I—and I presume will always—think of myself as a Lasallian, and think so FONDLY? The answer is obvious in its simplicity and perhaps my own obtuseness. Even the years I wasn't in class at the school, I was there weekly, if not almost daily. I slept on couches at Woodstock and 19th and LA and YONO more than I slept at my own house. It was my home. The college improv team was the most important thing in my life when I didn't have a lot going on, which turned into performing in the city in my twenties with best friends I had made through that improv team, which led to more comedy, which led to meeting my wife. The Sweet 16 run meant so much to me. Sleeping on couches at La Salle transitioned into sleeping on couches at Melon Terrace. Beerito and Tickets and Theme Parties and Weddings and Babies. The bonds I forged at La Salle have made up my most cherished relationships through my thirties. La Salle is the spoke that brought or kept every single person on this blog into my life.

It just struck me with clarity when the Editor had such an adversarial reaction to the institution: why didn't I? And it occured to me that I have the unique perspective of memories of La Salle being about absolutely everything BUT the institution. My La Salle is all the friendships, all the love, all the growth, and none of the diploma, none of the calls for money, none of the resume filler. Even the classes I did go to and enjoyed, all the meetings with parents and advisors and counselors begging me to withdraw rather than irrevocably damage my GPA with failures, all the unmet expectations, all the under-resolved guilt and shame... none of it comes to top of mind when I think of my "college" experience. The family I made does. It's beyond cliché to speak of the friends we made along the way, and yet here we are. La Salle University will be gone someday soon, weighed down by economic absurdities, backwards religious views, and geographic realities. But my La Salle lives on. I continue to cherish having my core group and your families in my life, and hope for many more to come. I will be forever grateful that my path took me through that institution, and I think I got more than the value of their degree (though the degree certainly would have been nice.)

I realize as I reach the end that I have no real compelling or interesting points to make about your post. It just made me feel strongly, I valued your insight and vulnerability, and felt compelled to share with you. I guess "Fuck the Cynical and Rotted La Salle Hard Iced Tea Forever"  really could have been a comment. Oh well. Thank you for continuing to make PoYB a place where I feel connected to friends far and near, and avoid sending emails to incompetent colleagues.

Frank F******

PYoB contributor

LaSallian Non-Grad 2012

Letter to the Editor: Zach, 11/4/24

by Zach

I have voted for Kamala Harris in the 2024 Presidential Election, in New Jersey. My ballot has already been received and processed. I want to make that clear before I jump into the rest of this.

My experience on PoYB is one of, above all, fun. Every Monday and Thursday at 1:59 PM my time, I get ready for the YSC posts to hit the Internet. I never know what that day will bring. Will the posts hit hard emotionally, or will I get awesome and weird takes on pop culture, candy, professional sports? 

It's nice to be in a community where I feel supported, where I feel like people have my back, whether I'm writing about something vulnerable and emotional or whether I'm putting out a political take that I know probably not everyone will agree with. That's what I've appreciated most about my time on the blog, and that has made me feel empowered to write about topics that I've either never written about at all (like social anxiety at parties) or to write publicly about topics that I've only privately journaled about (too many to count). That's radical inclusivity and acceptance, and that's universal.

Sure, it's clear that the blog's writers are to the left of the spectrum politically. Like Joe, I'd be surprised if there are any Trump voters reading the blog or writing for the blog. And there have been plenty of posts that have addressed the political issues of the day, and I'm sure many more in the sixteen years of the blog's existence before I became a regular reader/contributor that I'm not aware of. I find myself appreciating that about the blog, and enjoy reading posts from people who I generally agree with politically when those topics do come up. It binds me to the community that much more.

Still, what Joe wrote in his Born This Way post stuck out to me. "I find it so hard to imagine that a conservative individual would find themselves hanging out here, because I find it hard to believe that there would be any values espoused on these blogging pages to which they could relate to. It doesn't make sense logically." 

I don't know! I think the heaviest topics on PoYB are usually related to addiction, or relationships, or challenges with family. These are issues that both conservatives and liberals deal with while going through life. Beyond that, there are the usual takes about music, pop culture, the sarcasm that courses through the comments, Record Club. If Record Club is the blog's main course, then to me that says something about the blog's values being about a certain way to experience music (i.e., listening to an album in full), consistency (in writing a weekly column), and community (interactions around that album, exit surveys where more discussion takes place, etc.). These are the values I feel are the most real here. I don't posts about topics that are covered in the news are the blog's main event.

Of course, some of the blog's values absolutely touch political topics. But, to me, the way the blog puts forward politically-related matters as actual blog values takes a backseat to its values of inclusivity, fun, understanding, and joy.

So I absolutely think a conservative person could wholeheartedly enjoy PoYB and relate to its values. A Trump voter would certainly disagree with many of the takes that the blog's writers sometimes put forward, and, with courage, put their name to comments under those posts that respectfully address those takes. But I think a conservative person could relate to most of the heavy topics and to the pop culture-related topics just about as easily as a liberal person. 

I am also curious to hear Joe's take on the following sentence he wrote: "I find it hard to imagine that there would be anyone who would find themselves regularly hanging around PoYB while also being a racist, or sex abuse apologist, or nazi, or conservative."

I say this with trepidation, because I don't want to put our EiC in an uncomfortable position. But here goes: I want to know if Joe sees conservatives as being just as morally depraved as racists and sex abuse apologists and nazis. 

The way that sentence is constructed, one might reasonably come to that conclusion. But I don't exactly know what's behind that sentence. If he does see all those groups as being on the same level, I personally reject that idea, partially because the word "conservative" is very general and encompasses such a wide swath of the population (like, there are lots of conservatives not voting for Trump), and partially because, to me, a nazi / sex abuse apologist / racist advocates is just obviously so much worse that a conservative person who favors small government and lower taxes.

I would love to perform some kind of social experiment where a conservative person is introduced to the pages of PoYB for an extended period of time. That person would even become a semi-regular contributor. And then we'd get to know, for real, if a conservative person could mesh with PoYB's content and values, or whether they'd be so appalled by the content that they'd run away, screaming. That's the only way we'd truly find out, instead of hypothesizing like I'm doing here.

Vote Harris 2024.

Dwyer Ranks Every War on Drugs Song

by Dwyer

 

If you still don't know from PoYB, the War on Drugs will be touring with the National this fall. They will be at the Mann Center on Tuesday, September 17. PoYB editor Joe, his lovely wife Pam, I, and a few others I know will be there. Whether you're familiar or not with TWoD, you should come. TWoD has been my favorite band over the past seven years, and considered one of the most critically acclaimed rock bands over the past ten years. I think one of the true signs where you can say a band is great is when you can find something new, interesting, and better as you relisten to their music over time, and TWoD certainly fit in with that.

So let's get to the point. I have tasked myself with the impossible project of ranking every War on Drugs song. Here it is. From number 44 to number 1. This only includes songs from their five official studio albums. This doesn't include songs without lyrics and songs that didn't make the cut or are only part of their EPs. ("Comin' Through" for example, which is an amazing song that probably would be top ten otherwise).

Is this ranking fair to the band? Probably not. TWoD is just too damn good. This doesn't mean the song ranked 44 is a bad song. There are no bad songs from TWoD. My rankings are obviously subjective, so I wouldn't argue with you if "Disappearing" made the top ten on your list. Therefore, this certainly has been a difficult task. But who gives a shit. Let's have some fun.

The War on Drugs Songs, Ranked from Worst to Best

44. "There Is No Urgency" — Something has to take the bottom spot. No urgency to do so but had to be done.

43. "I Was There" — Not my favorite from the band's sophomore album. I may or may not be in the minority here.

42. "Knocked Down" — I'll remember this as the song that leads into "Nothing to Find." That's not a bad thing.

41. "Barrel of Batteries" — The closing songs from WoD's past four albums are incredible, beautiful ballads. This one from WoD's first album doesn't come close to their level.

40. "Needle in Your Eye" — Wagonwheel Blues has a unique sound. Relistening to this, I think this song really captures that album's overall sound perfectly. But this song in particular isn't as memorable.

39. "Suffering" — People will hate me for where I placed this. I like it! I just like the others better.

38. "Rings Around My Father's Eyes" — Sad dad rock at its finest.

37. "Clean Living" — I admit this one has been growing on me recently. A solid come-down penultimate track leading into the closer of A Deeper Understanding.

36. "Disappearing" — Serene and perfectly placed track in the masterpiece that is Lost in the Dream.

35. "Taking the Farm" — Great tempo and full of energy. Lots of potential here for a live show banger.

34. "It's Your Destiny" — The go-to song when I want to be left alone and put in a trance whenever I'm hungover.

33. "Show Me the Coast" — Perfect for a ten-minute stroll along the Jersey shore.

32. "Best Night" — This used to be way higher on my list. That's not a hit against this song. It's more so about how much more I've fallen in love with Slave Ambient.

31. "Wasted" — Seems like majority of people think this is the weakest WoD song. I disagree. Sorry, it's just too goddamn catchy.

30. "Your Love Is Calling My Name" — Wonderfully dense and mesmerizing. It's on my hopeful bucket list of hearing it live one day.

29. "Lost in the Dream" — I declare you officially an indie heartland rock band.

28. "Victim" — Kinda weird but delicious. I'm on board whenever they play it live.

27. "Up All Night" — Great fourth album opener. I should have been playing this overnight over the past two months. It's either this or our baby screaming.

26. "I Don't Wanna Wait" — You can hear sounds of the '80s in IDLHA. Case in point, the Phil Collins song.

25. "Holding On" — Sometimes I forget how great a WoD song is until I hear it again. Just because this isn't in my top fifteen or 20 doesn't mean I don't love it. This could easily be top fifteen.

24. "Baby Missiles" — There are a few songs you can tell WoD were influenced some by Springsteen. This is one of them.

23. "Living Proof" — Basically a prelude to IDLHA. It's not catchy like other WoD songs, but it's intimate and has a sweet guitar solo at the end.

22. "You Don't Have to Go" — Everything will be alright in the end, Matthew.

21. "I Don't Live Here Anymore" — An anthem all Drugs fans know the lyrics to, and one we'll all probably be singing along to come September 17.

20. "Thinking of a Place" — Can't look up "chill" Urban Dictionary and not see "Thinking of a Place." All I need is a bourbon on the deck, a breeze, this song, and I'm fine.

19. "Buenos Aires Beach" — Those piano notes, particularly at the end, really hit the spot.

18. "Come to the City" — The marching drums is all I need from this. But as a bonus, we get way more than that.

17. "In Chains" — One of the more brilliant moments in A Deeper Understanding occurs at the 2:45 minute mark of this song.

16. "Brothers" — Didn't realize how truly great this was until I heard it live. Sometimes that's the beauty of WoD.

15. "Strangest Thing" — Some haters will dislike WoD because of Adam Granduciel's voice. But all should love him for his "woooooos" closing out this song.

14. "Arms like Boulders" — My favorite song from Wagonwheel Blues. Bob Dylan feels everywhere. But damn did this band evolve since their debut album. Also interesting how much different they are now compared to former member and solo artist Kurt Vile.

13. "In Reverse" — Another majestic and beautiful closer, this time from Lost in the Dream.
 
12. "Old Skin" — One of the many great things about WoD is how many of their songs build to a breaking point and a payoff that's rarely experienced in music. "Old Skin" is no exception. Cue the harmonica and you'll see what I mean.

11. "Burning" — This one keeps climbing the list. Won't be surprised if it's in the top ten or eight in the next few years. I'm just waiting for the day Springsteen plays this song on stage with them.

10. "Black Water Falls" — A folk classic closer and my favorite song from Slave Ambient.

9. "Red Eyes" — Probably the most well known Drugs song. You'll be hearing guitar hooks in your sleep for weeks.

8. "Change" — It's both the final lyrics, "Maybe I was born too late, on this lonely freedom fight / Maybe I was born in the wrong way / Maybe born on the wrong day," and the closing instrumental final two minutes that bring this home.

7. "Harmonia's Dream" — IDLHA's epic bout with hints of Tom Petty. When the keyboard sound starts kicking in, you'll be transported into a dream.

6. "Nothing to Find" — Probably one of the most underrated bangers. I started falling in love with WoD when I first heard it.

5. "Occasional Rain" — My favorite album closer. I get emotional every time. "Ain't the sky just shades of grey, until you've seen it on the other side / Oh, if loving you is the same, it's only some occasional rain." Boom. Chills.

4. "An Ocean Between the Waves" — This is now untouchable territory. Hard to argue against this out of the top five. A classic seven-minute banger of epic proportions.

3. "Eyes to the Wind" — The song I always came back to when I started dating Andrea back in 2018. One of the best rock songs ever written. Melancholy lyrics and the swirling saxophone solo at the end will forever make this a top five WoD song for me. Truly magical.

2. "Pain" — Another song that builds brilliantly, and one where we're paid off at the 3:40 minute mark (live version), which features guitar rips and a transcendent crescendo that'll take you to places you've never been before in the world of rock 'n' roll.

1. "Under the Pressure" — The crown jewel and the king of all bangers. This is the song everyone wants to hear at a WoD show. Take this live video from a concert for example. You're on a roller coaster slowly crawling up to its highest tipping point. Then Charlie Hall (drummer and Philly Specials producer) starts going crazy around the nine-minute mark. The coaster gets past the top of its pinnacle and boom, the five minutes that follow are an epic thrill rock ride barreling into the abyss. So epic. So euphoric. Holy shit, where's the Tylenol?

Bonus Ranking (Albums)
5. Wagonwheel Blues
4. Slave Ambient
3. A Deeper Understanding
2. I Don't Live Here Anymore
1. Lost in the Dream

Feedback for the Short Film Barely Recognizable

Check out PoYB contributor Batts' film HERE, and read some feedback from a couple of PoYB contributors below.

Sunny

This short film was a lot of fun. The piece looked professional, well-edited, and was internally coherent, which is more than I can say about plenty of independent films ("entertainments") I've seen before. The cinematography (noted shots: through the glass door on meeting the sister, through the door again at the end; shadowed scene with the husband; dutch angle when main char returns to her apt to cry) and the score (moody and synthy, reminded me of a John Carpenter jam) popped out to me as unique and striking. The performances of your main character and the husband character were excellent—main char portrays that nervous criminal energy even before the ruse is made clear, and the husband goes through such a range of emotions within a few scenes. The pacing and plot immediately pulled me in and was very efficient developing characters and mood through a tight runtime. If you want me to be more critical, catch me off the blog.

Keep up the writing and directing and the good work! Send more! Best of luck in festival circuits etc.!

Joe

First and foremost, engaging with art created by people I know, during those rare times that it happens, is always a great experience for me. Whether I'm going to "like" something is always going to be the big question, but the fact of the matter is that I like shit like this more because a friend made it. I'm not going to deny that. I lean into it. I don't think there's anything wrong with that. I'm not a professional critic. I don't have any obligation to be objective. I probably would not have watched this if a friend hadn't reached out to me about his making it, simply because I'm not in the habit of looking for cool short films to watch. And whether I would have liked it if I had never hung out with its director is almost impossible to say.

Almost, but not fully, and if you were to press me on it, I'd say that, in a vacuum, I really liked Barely Recognizable. Having watched it twice without taking any notes either time, here are some things I liked about it, off the cuff. Lauren LaVera is obviously a star, and it's no wonder Frank has advertised his film with a "starring Lauren LaVera!" No chinks in the armor as far as my untrained eye could see. The still shot above is woefully inadequate because a photo can only display one emotion, but LaVera cycles through about 45 emotions in the span of five seconds. I also thought Mack Velle was great in his limited role. The "who the FUCK are you" could have probably been overdone, but he hit the right notes.

I thought the story was tight, and didn't reveal too much until it had to. I thought some camera shots were interesting (again, not a film critic here, but I get to pretend I am, and so it's nice to try to also pretend I know what certain camera shots mean). The initial shot of the Media home was intriguing, when it continued to linger behind the mailbox even when "Kathy" arrives. The dinner table scenes were handled well, with a nice mix of close-ups and full-room shots, nothing seemed too crowded. I also appreciated the start of the film, as the camera takes its time strolling through the park, and almost happens upon "Kathy" randomly, mirroring Kathy's apparent penchant for swooping in on other people's lives unexpectedly.

I think that Logan saying "Anita thinks you're Kathy because she wants to think you're Kathy" felt true to the story, but if that feels true, then I think the thing that makes Vinny know that it isn't Kathy needs to be less obvious than eating coconut even though everyone knows Kathy is highly allergic to coconut. I am willing to buy into Anita's delusion but only to a point, and thinking that Anita is so far gone here that she could believe that a highly allergic person would be completely fine after swallowing coconut. Thought I'm googling it now and I guess nausea really could be a reaction? But then you need a character explaining Kathy's typical symptoms, which would make it worse.

I only say this because I have personal experience, from very long ago, in dealing with how difficult it sometimes is to read a line with a curse word, but I thought "there are a lot of shit people out there" was the only line in the whole film that didn't quite hit its mark.

Please don't let the amount of words here dupe you into thinking I know what I'm talking about. I don't. I liked it, and I'm glad I watched it. And I appreciated the open-endedness of it, how this extremely creepy thing happened and that the characters in the film are apparently going to allow it to continue to happen, which is the true creepy part. And if you were going for "creepy" vibes, you nailed it. If a film is measured by how much it lingers in the back of the audience's mind after the credits roll, then I can say that it was a success. Thanks for sharing it with us, man!

Short Film Premiere (on the Blog): Barely Recognizable by Francesco Battaglia

Exciting news on this Sunday morning: friend and PoYB contributor Frank B. (blog sobriquet "Batts") has made a short film, and he'd like y'all to watch it. I've embedded it below.

Look. I'm just some fucking guy. I'm a social worker by trade. I run this blog in my free time, for fun. I have a lot of creative friends, but very few in the industry. The fact that my friend Batts is out there making and creating the art that we're just sitting here talking about on most days, I dunno, it makes me real proud of him. He's out there doing the motherfucking thing. It's my honor to embed his short film below.

Batts has sent the following:

"Feedback/reviews, for me, are a big plus because it tells me if people are connecting with the film or not. I'm also inviting people to leave their honest thoughts with ratings or reviews on IMDb, if they have an account. It was a pretty tough experience making it, but even if this just gets one person to watch and enjoy it, I'll consider this a success!"

If you'd like to send your thoughts over to me at any point this week, I'll compile them in a blog post to be published on Friday morning. I will also most likely reach out to some of the more film-inclined bloggers on here already to see if they'd like to watch it and write a few words.

Without further ado, here is Barely Recognizable.

Thanks for watching, and like I said, we are welcoming all feedback this week for the director. Hope to hear from you. (Drop a comment below if emailing me is too much of a chore.)

A Few Mini-Reviews Here at the End of the Year, Under the Wire, Sorry, I'm Just Trying to Make Sure We Have Had Enough Blog Posts This Year... Have There Been Enough Blog Posts? Wait, Holy Shit, I Can Use HTML Code in Blog Titles?!

World's Greatest Dad (film, 2009)

The premise is kind of insane, but I won't spoil it here. It's probably insane enough that there was no way that it could be a bad movie even if it tried. You never know with these box-office bombs. Could be because it was a legitimately bad film. Could be that audiences just don't appreciate the humor of a film. World's Greatest Dad is the latter. When that Dear Evan Hansen film adaptation similarly bombed, I read the plot description, and was shocked to read the insane plot of that musical. And now I am doubly shocked, because World's Greatest Dad has a weirdly similar plot, similar enough that I'm now convinced that the creators of Dear Evan Hansen completely stole from World's Greatest Dad and just took out the autoerotic asphyxiation. Ah shit, now there I go spoiling something. Here's another spoiler: you get to see Robin Williams naked. A decently funny movie that went down really well at 5 AM this morning as I watched with the infant with an ear infection.

GRADE: 3.5 pukes out of 5

Café Carmela (restaurant, Northeast Philly)

December is all about using gift cards from the previous Christmas (we also did a cheese class, which was excellent, but won't be reviewed here), so we finally hit up Café Carmela. The concern, as it always is when my parents recommend a restaurant within fifteen minutes from our house, is that this is gonna be one of those "Center City-style restaurants," an idea that I just find kinda sad. The Great Northeast is already filled with enough totems to the swaths of people who are too scared of overblown ideas of crime to move closer to the city but too poor to move to the suburbs. I'm cool with a good restaurant, but let's not pretend like it's something that it's not. Thankfully, Café Carmela was not that. Just a nice mid-to-upscale pizza place. We got there early enough that we weren't bothering anyone with the children (who are better behaved than some similarly-aged children I've seen out in the wild, mind you). The pizza was kinda burned but they advertised the burning on the menu. It wasn't a Point-style oops-we-fucked-up burn, more like a "crispy" and "fancy" style pizza. It was fine. Better was the crab mac 'n' cheese, and best was the cheesesteak, which is eventually gonna find its way onto those trendy "Best Cheesesteaks in Philly!" lists eventually, mark my word. If you find yourself in the NEast with an empty stomach and you are afraid that you're gonna get carjacked if you travel any farther south on I-95, then I guess this is your place.

GRADE: 3 pukes out of 5

Sobriety during the holidays (by some fucking loser, 2023)

Not good, but manageable, in retrospect. I didn't slice my hand open while carving the turkey this year, so that's at least one hash mark in the "pro" column of sobriety. I also felt really awful, emotionally, at the very beginning of the Christmas Eve festivities. All of the kids screaming in my parents living room which is set at a constant 90 degrees, and I took the crying baby and just went into the basement for like 20 minutes just to cool down. After that, it was fine. It's just that I would normally have alcohol to block all that out, ya know? Christmas Day was even better, mainly because we hosted and thus could set the temperature in the house. The worst part for me, for the entire weekend, was the end of the night on Christmas, when the kids are falling asleep and I'm cleaning the dishes and the rest of the kitchen. In the past, that was when I hit my fucking stride. It was the best moment of zen all year—drunk on ten beers, Christmas music blessedly switched over to Midwest emo, window over the kitchen sink open, happy for a good day and content to be the master of the room as I clean. This year, I substituted the warm fuzzy feelings of inebriation for a sore back. Still: I survived, and hence, the grade...

GRADE: 5 pukes out of 5

The fact that every dad I've spoken to in the past few days is living in a house in which every child and every adult is sick (2023)

This is just how it's gonna be from now on, huh?

GRADE: 0 pukes out of 5

"Rock This Town," Degrassi: The Next Generation (Season 6, Episode 11, 2007)

The one in which J.T. is stabbed to death. Martha and I watched it Christmas Eve morning at 5 AM (see movie review above: this is a pattern this week). It's my favorite Degrassi episode, and I felt it to be kismet that this was the episode that happened to be playing on the Degrassi channel that is inexplicably included in the "live TV" section on our Roku TV the one time I put it on. Wait..... no, I should be writing about this in Song Challenge. What's the soonest prompt that I could slot in "Rock This Town" by Stray Cats?

GRADE: 5 pukes out of 5

Blogging (2023)

Eh.

GRADE: 2.5 pukes out of 5