Monday, January 6, 2020

Your Favorite Movie: Gladiator, with Lamson


Your Favorite Movie finally returns, after a month-long hiatus (give me a fucking break, I had another kid in the meantime, and blogging is tough on paternity leave). If this is your first time here, I'll explain. Basically, I get together with a friend (and occasionally, some extra guests), drink a few beers, and discuss his or her favorite movie of all time. I record the conversation, and I transcribe it for you to read a couple weeks later. Yes, you have to read it. No, this isn't a goddamn podcast. Are you not entertained?!

I was really excited to start this 2020 leg of the journey with my old friend Lamson. I've known this guy since high school, when we both did musical theater and hit on the same teenage girls. Halfway through my college experience, Lamson transferred to La Salle, where we drank a lot of beers together and lived together for one year off-campus (he didn't wash a single dish the entire year), and we've kept in touch since graduation, despite his move to Chicago to be a crossfitting improv-er. (And he's allowed me to use his surname instead of his first name, because, much like Dwyer, it better captures who he is.)

Lamson's favorite movie of all time is Gladiator, the Roman battle royal from 2000, a Russell Crowe vehicle that won the Oscar for Best Picture. It was a lot of fun to watch and to talk about! I'm starting to make a concentrated effort to talk more about the person I'm interviewing, and Lamson was admirably game for all the personal questions, for which I am thankful.

Thanks for joining me for another installment of this ongoing feature. If you want to be a part of it, let me know! Otherwise, enjoy the (long) read.

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Joe: I was surprised how much I enjoyed this movie. I guess I assumed it was going to be—

Lamson: Wait, can I stop you?

Joe: Please.

Lamson: Why were you surprised? What were your preceding expectations that made you think you weren't going to like it?

Joe: I thought it was just going to be a gore-fest. I thought it was going to be a 300-type thing, a violent, comic book feel. But this wasn't just violence.

Lamson: It was a lot more.

Joe: There were personal stakes. There was legit empathetic drama in it. Does that mean I'm cynical as a movie-watcher?

Lamson: No, not at all. When you hear the word "gladiator," naturally you just think "killing."

Joe: This is kind of... well, it wasn't the first one, because of Spartacus. The first "gladiator" movie.

Lamson: I've never seen Spartacus the movie.

Joe: Neither have I.

Lamson: I've seen Spartacus the Starz series. Which was just a whole bunch of nonsense.

Joe: That came about after Gladiator.

Lamson: You're talking about Spartacus the movie though, right?

Joe: Right. That came first. I have not seen that.

Lamson: But yeah, 300 definitely came years after.

Joe: 300 was 2006. Gladiator is 2000.

Lamson: 300 is just straight murder and blood and... Gladiator is a great, well-rounded movie.

Joe: I should probably assume that if a movie is someone's "favorite movie," then it is more than likely a good movie.

Lamson: Well, I don't think you should assume that, because you've interviewed plenty of people that you totally didn't like their movie.

Joe: Only a few. Maybe three.

Lamson: Okay, alright.

Joe: Longtime readers will know which ones!

Lamson: [laughter] Sure.

Joe: But let's stay in this vein, and talk about some of the good things in this movie. What are some of your favorite things about this movie?

Lamson: It's funny—right after you say that you thought it might be "just a gore-fest," some of my favorite things are the battle scenes. Because there is such good story throughout, that allows the fight scenes to be highlighted.

Joe: There are stakes in those fight scenes.

Lamson: Oh, for sure.

Joe: It's not just violence for violence's sake.

Lamson: One of my favorite scenes is in the beginning. The opening scene is when he is the general.

Joe: The opening battle scene.



Lamson: Oh my god, it's an amazing scene. You watch movies—I know you say that you didn't like Lord of the Rings, but that opening scene of Gladiator reminds me of Lord of the Rings: Two Towers' Helm's Deep. The archers and the flanking of the horses. I actually think there are a lot of parallels there.

Joe: I dunno. Parallels, maybe, in the actual technical substance of the battle scenes. But I feel like the purpose of the battle scenes in Gladiator was way different than in Lord of the Rings.

Lamson: 100%. Different strokes. But I just do really like the way the opening scenes were shot, and then the next time you see him in battle, as a gladiator, he's a nobody. His first couple fights, he won't even admit that he's a general. But he's skilled at combat, and there's one scene where he slices somebody's head off using two swords, and throws the sword up into the audience, and yells, "Are you not entertained?!" That's a classic. As the movie goes on, the fights become more epic, but I actually like those first fight scenes as a gladiator. It's still sort of the beginning of the movie, where he is a nobody...

Joe: He's not trying to entertain.

Lamson: He's just trying to survive.

Joe: Well, he might not even be trying to survive. He might not just give a shit at all. He might stumble into victory because he doesn't give a shit.

Lamson: Once the slave owner, Proximo, starts to educate him, "You could earn your freedom if you fight well," then he starts to put on the "entertainment."

Joe: I definitely want to dig into a little more about why he maybe didn't care whether he won or not? At the end of the day. Because of the whole afterlife aspect of it.

Lamson: In the beginning, it's set up that all he wants to do is go home. Marcus Aurelius asks him, "What can Rome do for you?" and he says, "Let me go home." Aurelius is like, "No, can you take over for me?" and he's like, "No, I just want to go home and harvest my crops and see my wife and see my kid." So then when... spoilers.

Joe: Spoiler alert.

Lamson: When Marcus Aurelius asks him to take over, and Commodus is jealous of that, and kills his dad, and sends Maximus to his death. And then has his men go out and kill Maximus' wife and son. All he ever wanted to do was go home! And now that home is taken away from him. The physical place still exists, but what made it home is dead.

Joe: His wife and kid.

Lamson: So what does he have to live for? Maybe he's... Oh! What's the big guy's name? [laughter] I grew up watching this with my dad, and the big guy, the big tank—

Joe: Hagen?

Lamson: Maybe, I don't know. We called him "Moose." [laughter] I don't know why.

Joe: If he was a frat boy in Animal House, then his name would've been "Moose."

Lamson: For sure. So Moose throws his sword at Maximus, and is like "Why don't you fight?" and hits him on the shoulder wound. Maximus is like, "Who cares? Just kill me." Because he wants to go to the afterlife to be with his family. But for whatever reason... actually, I don't know why. Why does he go from not caring to then caring again?

Joe: Well, he kind of talks with Juba about—

Lamson: Who's Juba?

Joe: The Numidian guy. I only know the name because I wrote it down.

Lamson: When do they say "Juba" or did you have to look that up?

Joe: I literally looked at Wikipedia this morning.

Lamson: Okay, great.

Joe: But there was the big scene with him, and they're talking about the fact that Maximus' wife and kid are dead. Juba's wife and kid are probably alive still. The question is, "When are we going to see them again?" basically. And Maximus' thing was, "Well, I could see them today if I wanted to." But then, "I'm going to stay and fight, and I'll see them eventually." I guess to "earn" his place on this earth before he sees them.

Lamson: It's a good question. I feel like that explanation makes sense, but it's not substantial enough to explain it all. It's like, okay, you go from one second, wanting to die to be reunited with your wife and kid, to then all of a sudden be like, "Ehhh, but... I want to earn that death"? Because it's Roman honor, I guess...?

Joe: It's like Maximus called a suicide hotline, in Juba, and was convinced.

Lamson: Maybe it was the friendship? Because they related on that level, and it was... friendship is powerful. Maybe he wanted Juba to get back with his wife and kid. I dunno!

Joe: Yeah... I don't know either.

Lamson: Either way, it's very fun to see him turn around and start fighting, because he's very good at it. He does it very well.

Joe: We'll dig into this—what do you think about the afterlife? What are your beliefs about the afterlife?

Lamson: ...I was not expecting that question whatsoever.

Joe: But you had to have thought about it. Not that you had to have thought about it while you were watching Gladiator.

Lamson: Something I've stood by, even since I was like thirteen, when you start having thoughts about life and death. You and I grew up going to Catholic grade school, Catholic high school, Catholic university.

Joe: For better or worse.

Lamson: Sixteen years of Catholicism rammed down our throats. I fucking hate all that shit.

Joe: So you don't believe in a big bearded man in the sky?

Lamson: I don't think we're capable—well, maybe we're capable, but we're missing information. Right now, I'm not able to comprehend the mysteries of the universe. Life is too complex for there not to be something that explains it all. If you literally think about the intricate details of every single tiny thing... you could look around, wherever you're at, look around and it's like... it's so complex. There has to have been something that started it all. Whether that's a spiritual, divine intervention, or... dude, I don't fucking know. But there is something going on in life that you and I clearly don't get. So, who knows what happens when we die? I think there's a really fucking good chance that we die, and boom—that's it, it's black, it's darkness, and we're unaware. Sometimes, that's comforting, like, if we die tomorrow, it's sad, aw, but you wouldn't even know!

Joe: You can't even comprehend it. That's kind of where I fall as well.

Lamson: Which is scary, but it's also comforting.

Joe: That is how I feel. Unfortunately! I wish... I wish I had the capacity to believe in some type of afterlife, to believe that this is all for something.

Lamson: There are a couple fun theories that I like to think about. Somebody once showed me a YouTube video—maybe it was of Elon Musk—talking about how we are all in a computer program. How the mathematical odds that we are not in a computer program are so low, and I'm just like... you listen to him talk, and you're like, "Fuck, dude, I am literally 1s and 0s."

Joe: This is right after Elon Musk ripped a huge joint. A billionaire's joint.

Lamson: For sure. And there's another theory that's fun to think about. When you die, and your brain is going through that process—in a split second, a succession of chemicals are released. You know how people say their life flashed before their eyes?

Joe: You "see the light."

Lamson: If you lead a good life, your base consciousness will release happy memories, and that's like going to heaven, right? You live in this weird, perpetual moment that is good. Or if you lived a bad life, you have bad thoughts that weigh on you, and those get released. Although it's over in a second, for you it's an eternity, and you're living in this hell. So... I dunno. Maybe we're all just going to be soil one day.

Joe: That last theory sounds like a good way for a scientist to rationalize a "heaven."

Lamson: It'd be really nice if we could all just go to a sweet party, like when you and I and everybody went to Vegas, and we were in a pool. We're all just 22, and feel great. Though... would it be weird for you if, in heaven... okay, it's a utopia, and we're at a Vegas pool party, but everybody gets to be 22, but your mom and dad are there, but they're 22, and you have kids now, and they'll be 22. And we're all... 22. [laughter].

Joe: And they are all there on the day that we were at the Vegas pool party?

Lamson: Yeah, we're all pissing in the pool, having a great time.

Joe: So the first time I ever saw [redacted]'s nipples, 22-year-old Willow is there, and 22-year-old Martha is there? [laughter]

Lamson: No comment. No comment.

Joe: But bringing it back to Gladiator... do you feel like Maximus' thoughts about the afterlife were a burden to him? Or, like, maybe an excuse for him to act irrationally? Or... do you feel like his thoughts were a positive or a negative, for him as a widower?

Lamson: ...Wow. I don't know why I'm having such a hard time with that question.

Joe: Because it's a hard thing to judge people on their thoughts about the afterlife. That's not fair to even a fictional character. So I understand why you'd be reluctant to say.

Lamson: Within the scope of the movie, I guess if I'm just thinking practically, I think it was a burden. Because, let's say he didn't care about rejoining with his wife and son, maybe he would've just been a dope fucking gladiator, and he wouldn't have given any shit to Commodus and gotten himself killed. Like, Proximo, he was a gladiator that won over the crowd—you heard him say that throughout the movie, "Win the crowd, Maximus!"—and maybe if Maximus did that, he could've just been like, "I'm really sad, there was this woman that I really loved..." And you're not going to just get over that, you're going to mourn, and want to die. He was probably, what, 30?

Joe: Sure.

Lamson: Given that time period, he had at least another good 20 to 30 years left?

Joe: I don't know what the life expectancy at the time was.

Waitress: Mozzarella sticks?

Both: Not us.

Lamson: You definitely have to keep that in. He probably had another good 20 or 30 years. He could've gone on and been happy, ya know? And not gotten killed by this dickbag fucking Joaquin Phoenix.

Joe: He was a dickbag, for sure.

Lamson: Dude, I hate Commodus, and I love Joaquin Phoenix. He does such a good job. I do not like Joaquin Phoenix in the new Joker. Well, I do like him in that, but I see him in interviews, and I'm just like, "This guy is fucking nuts." As a person.

Joe: Sometimes, I feel like actors just have to enter this deep dark place for their roles, and have a tough place getting out of it.

Lamson: Maybe that's him. But I think he does... when I first watched the movie, when I was ten or twelve, I was like, "I hate this guy! I hate this actor!" But as I get older, I realize that he does such a great job with this part. You hate him, but you understand where he's coming from.

Joe: Oh yeah, he's a shitbag, but you get the motivation. He's not just evil.

Lamson: Spurned by his father. He's... a little creepy with his sister.

Joe: For sure.

Lamson: I think the actress who plays his sister does a really great job.

Joe: Connie Nielson. I wrote that down too.

Lamson: I don't think I've seen her in anything else.

Joe: Not at all. [Editor's note: I combed through her IMDB page, and there is literally nothing else on there that I've seen. Of course, that's just me. You've probably seen something else. You're not a neophyte.]

Lamson: She does a really good job in that role.

Joe: She's put in a tough position. Trying to keep her kid alive.

Lamson: And please her father while he's alive. She likes this guy who clearly isn't into her. Her brother's into her, but there's still this weird family bond, so she's trying not to get involved with him. It's a complex character!

Joe: And of course, we have Richard Harris as Marcus Aurelius, the dad.

Lamson: He's so good. He's amazing.

Joe: He was! He brought a warmth to the role that wasn't really even necessary. It was the warmth that he brought to Dumbledore before he died.

Lamson: Dude, so he was the first Dumbledore, and he was awesome. And when he unfortunately died, and they switched to the other Dumbledore, I was pissed. And... I grew to like the other Dumbledore. [Editor's note: Booooooooo.] Anyway, him as Marcus Aurelius... he's such a good actor. Again, same thing as when I watched this for the first time—I wish you would've watched it when it first came out, like I did, just to have this totally different perspective. How old is it now? It's gotta be more than a decade.

Joe: It'll be twenty years next year.

Lamson: Two decades?! So my perspective on film, and acting, and the afterlife, and everything, is so different than when I was nine.

Joe: So you watched this when you were nine.

Lamson: It was one of my first favorite movies ever. Saw it when it came out.

Joe: Tell me about that. Did you see it in theaters?

Lamson: Probably? I know that I watched it when it first came out, with my dad. I loved it, my dad loved it, and it was a cool thing we had together. I also liked it more because my dad liked it, because I valued his opinion. There were so many things about Gladiator that, as a nine-year-old, I didn't understand. It's weird, to watch a movie from the time you're nine to the time you're 29. I probably watch it every couple years, and I've seen this movie so many times. The things that you pick up along the way... when I first watched it, I didn't get how weird it was that Commodus was kissing his sister. I didn't grow up with siblings. I just that they were just weird. At the beginning, when Aurelius is talking to Maximus, I didn't understand why it was controversial of him to ask him to be the new Caesar. Also, his acting is funny with the [Richard Harris impression] "There's a whisper now, Maximus!" The way he talks so softly, I thought that was weird. But as I get older, his performance is perfect, in my mind. I like him as an actor.

Joe: So you enjoyed this with your dad.

Lamson: Yeah.

Joe: I guess one of the cruxes of the movie is that Commodus is spurned by his dad. So would you... I'm not asking you to compare or contrast your relationship, but would you say you have a more solid relationship with your father?

Lamson: ...then Commodus and Marcus Aurelius?

[laughter]

Lamson: I think most people do!

Joe: I'm not asking you if you're going to kill your father.

Lamson: No, I'm not going to smother him with a pillow because he wasn't going to make me the emperor of Rome.

Joe: But figuratively, has your father ever spurned you?

Lamson: No, never. Absolutely not.

Joe: That's great! And that's what I expected. Because you're saying that you shared this memory with your dad, watching this. So this is not an aspect of the movie that you can relate with.

Lamson: I think this is going in a weird, different direction than you're trying to take this—

Joe: No, I appreciate any direction.

Lamson: —as much as I hate the character of Commodus—earlier I only said that I admire the performance of Joaquin Phoenix as Commodus—the character of Commodus, you're designed to hate him. It's weird, there's a part of me—or of you, the royal you—that is drawn to Commodus, because he just wants his father's approval so hard. I don't want to say everyone does, but most people do.

Joe: Everyone does, absolutely. Young men want their father's approvals.

Lamson: It makes you think. Say you're in Commodus' position, and you're not the perfect fit, and your father offers the job that was destined for you to somebody else. Commodus has this whole perfect monologue—"My virtues were not on your list, Father. I had different virtues. Ambition can be a virtue!" I love that. I use that in everyday life. When I say someone is ambitious, it's like, "Hey, I don't want you to take that the wrong way." Because associate the term "ambition" with a negative context. I think I do because of that movie, sometimes.

Joe: Okay, so let's flip it. Do you feel like you fit the role that your father saw for you?

Lamson: Ya know what, that's an awesome question. I think there's a part of it that's yes, and there's a part of it that's no. I think I'm so different from my dad. He was an athlete, a wrestler—

Joe: But he didn't expect that from you, to be an athlete.

Lamson: No, he didn't expect that from me. I feel like I want to be a father one day, and the things that I value the most, like comedy... and, ya know, I wanna show my kids sports. I grew up playing basketball, football, baseball. Right now I'm big into fitness, I want to introduce crossfit. There are things that you value that you want to share with your kids, and you hope they pick those things up. My dad, I grew up playing soccer and baseball, basketball, football, everything, wrestling. There are things that I took to, and others that I didn't. But there was never a time when I felt that he was upset that I didn't gravitate toward a certain thing. Right now, I do comedy, and that would have never even crossed his mind.

Joe: I'm sure he was confused as to what improv even was.

Lamson: Oh, for sure. Imagine my dad—a man's man, such a badass. I'm imagining him as our age, and you're walking down the street, and imagine you get in a fight with somebody... he would murder anybody. And I'm not that type of person. Me, in the middle of high school, going from freshman football, and quitting, to picking up wrestling, and quitting, to sophomore year having no extracurriculars. And then in junior year being like, "Hey, I'm gonna do musical theater." [laughter] I just imagine the internal reaction being like, "What?!" But he's so supportive! So supportive. Which is amazing.

Joe: That's great, man.

Lamson: So to go back to the Commodus thing. I feel like everybody, or most people, just want nothing more than the support—approval, approval is the right word—of their father.

Joe: It's probably unfair to even compare the two relationships, Commodus and Aurelius against any other father and son team, because there was a specific role that Marcus Aurelius needed to fill, and that typically would be his son—

Lamson: A high-status job that could affect a lot of people.

Joe: It would be like if your dad was your wrestling coach and needed you to run the wrestling team. There's a difference. Like, my dad probably expected "more" of me than just being a social worker, ya know? He expected me to do something that was impacting the world more. On a larger scale. Not like... not to say that he was "disappointed" in me.

Lamson: For what, not solving global warming?

Joe: For not being a doctor, or a lawyer, or some shit like that. But, definitely, there is always that sense of "am I disappointing my father?"

Lamson: Do you think it's a weird thing, or maybe this is just me, but—people have a sense of "I don't want to disappoint my father," but they don't have any sense of "I don't want to disappoint my mother"? Is that unfounded? I feel like I never want to make my mom upset or mad or sad. But that's day-to-day, like when I'm at a family thing, "Gotta be on your good behavior, have the right manners." Moms are on top of that. But dads are long-term—"You have to be a doctor," ya know what I mean?

Joe: I can see that, but I also see it as more of a gendered topic, like, maybe if this were two girls talking—

Lamson: It doesn't have to be a gendered thing, yeah, like if there were two moms, or two dads—

Joe: No, I'm saying that if I were a girl, and you were a girl, we wouldn't be having this conversation. Mothers and daughters may have similar relationships. I dunno... Well... Dad... [laughter]

Lamson: I hope we've made you proud, Dads!

Joe: He did ask me, "Why are you interviewing people?" It's a hobby, relax! [laughter]

Lamson: Exactly. We're having fun.

Joe: It's like, would you rather me talk to you about your favorite movie, The Big Chill, or would you rather it be a different hobby? Would you rather me force you to come into the basement to look at my model trains?! You got off the hook!

Lamson: "I could be weirder! It could be worse!" Oh, you did this with your dad?

Joe: Yeah, it was pretty good. The Big Chill?

Lamson: Never seen it.

Joe: Good boomer movie.

Lamson: Dude... the term "boomer" has come up so much in the past few months.

Joe: I think it all started with me accusing him of being a boomer in that interview.

Lamson: Sure, you started it.

Joe: Okay, so we kind of skirted around the idea of Gladiator starting this global interest in the idea of gladiators, and the Roman times, and a general interest in that. It was what was called the "Gladiator Effect." There was a measurable uptick in book sales about this time period after the movie came out. People got into it! Do you feel that you got into the whole idea of Roman times after you watched this movie? Or was it just a movie?

Lamson: Um...

Joe: Like, did you write a fucking book report about it or anything?

Lamson: [laughter] "Did you write a fucking book report about it?!" Uh... no. Here's what I'll say. After watching this movie, I did not then go and expand my horizons to watching anything or everything about gladiators or Roman times.

Joe: You were not privy to the Gladiator Effect.

Lamson: No. Maybe not the primary effect. But maybe a subconscious effect? Any time I saw anything about swords and shields and spears, I would be like, "This looks dope." Also, it translated later in life. We were talking about this earlier—Sparticus, the TV series, which is on Netflix, but originally on Starz. And it's... not good. But I've seen it twice, because I love it. It's pretty freaking corny, and Sigourney Weaver is in it, and she's not great in it. But I think because of how much I like Gladiator... maybe that's my Gladiator Effect.

Joe: So are you into the swords and whatnot because of Gladiator, or were you into it already, and Gladiator just fit into that interest?

Lamson: No, I saw Gladiator first.

Joe: So you had no interest in gladiators as a subject before the movie Gladiators?

Lamson: It's a really hard question to answer. I was nine years old when it came out, so I was fucking into dinosaurs and planes, ya know?

Joe: No, that's fair.

Lamson: But it's an interesting thing to think about. I had never even heard of the "Gladiator Effect."

Joe: It was a measurable thing, apparently.

Lamson: I'm trying to even think... imagine that movie comes out now. It's a good movie. Imagine that movie came out now, there'd be a million HBO shows about it. Think of something people like now, like Game of Thrones. Now there's all these spin-offs, all these books. When people like something now, it's catastrophic, like a ripple effect.

Joe: Do you feel like people would've thought it was a rip-off of Game of Thrones, just in a different time period?

Lamson: That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying that if Gladiator came out now, just because of the level of quality and how good it is—you liked it—take that quality now, and boom, there's spin-offs, there's books, there's TV shows. People try to adopt that.

Joe: But that's literally what happened then.

Lamson: It would have been even more severe today.

Joe: The craven, capitalist marketing economy.

Lamson: I wouldn't be surprised at all.

Joe: Are you surprised there hasn't been a sequel to Gladiator yet?

Lamson: No, and I'm so fucking thankful there wasn't a sequel.

Joe: It's in production now.

Lamson: Are you fucking serious?

Joe: Yeah.

Lamson: [sighs] Fuck.

Joe: So let's talk about sequels—

Lamson: Why would they do that?!

Joe: As of June 2019, there was official confirmation that one was in development. No plot details were given. Obviously, in the past twenty years, there has been chatter about potential sequels. So before I tell you what has been talked about in the past, what do you see as the best-case scenario for a sequel to Gladiator?

Lamson: It's hard for me to give you words right now, because my knee-jerk reaction is that I'm a little pissed off. Because it's such a good movie, and it doesn't need a sequel! There's no tee-up for it to continue. He fucking dies! Where do you go from there? Like, is it about Commodus' nephew?

Joe: Give me your best-case scenario. Someone hands you 100 million dollars and says that you have to spend this on a Gladiator sequel, what do you do? The movie is Gladiator 2, what is it about?

Lamson: Alright. Fine! Best-case scenario. Who do we care about? We care about the fellow gladiators. Moose—

Joe: Who died.

Lamson: —and Jeebers.

Joe: Juba?

Lamson: Juba.

[laughter]

Lamson: We've had a pitcher of beer. Anyways, so Moose is dead, so who cares. Proximo, dead. Juba is the only one who's alive. In my mind, the only thing you can do is about him. Or... I think the kid, Lucius, Commodus' nephew—

Joe: The Unbreakable kid.

Lamson: I like the kid, Lucius. He liked gladiators, and he was kind to them. So maybe there is some type of story where he frees a lot of gladiators that he likes? Or maybe it's Juba reuniting with his family? Or maybe it's... I dunno, man. I'm just pissed off that they want to do it. It's like, why does every movie that's really good need a sequel? They're going to ruin it!

Joe: So I'll tell you, there's been two sequels that have been chatted about in the past. The first one was pretty much like Godfather II. Have you ever seen that?

Lamson: I've seen all of the Godfathers at some point.

Joe: It was going to be two different stories happening in parallel. One, the origin stories of Maximus, and that would be the prequel part of it. And the sequel part of it would be Lucius becoming a gladiator.

Lamson: Wait, so Lucius would become the gladiator?

Joe: Yeah. But that's half the movie.

Lamson: But he's nobility.

Joe: Well it was shitcanned, so...

Lamson: Thank god.

Joe: You're saying "thank god," but listen to this second one.

Lamson: Oh god.

Joe: The second one was written by... have you ever heard of Nick Cave?

Lamson: Who?

Joe: Nick Cave. He's an indie rock artist. Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds?

Lamson: No. I thought you were saying "Nick Cage" wrong.

Joe: Apparently he wrote the script to this potential sequel, and it was about... [laughter] the Roman gods reincarnate Maximus...

Lamson: No! Stop!

Joe: In order for him to fight persecution against the Christians? And then they keep reincarnating him, so that he can fight in the Vietnam War? And then he eventually works for the Pentagon?

Lamson: [laughter] Are you making this up?

Joe: I swear to god. You can find it online if you want to read it. [Editor's note: Download it HERE. I will not be downloading it, but you can let me know how it goes if you choose to.]

Lamson: I would love to watch that as a joke movie though. That sounds awesome! So the tagline is "The general who became a slave, the slave who became a gladiator, the gladiator who defied an empire... who then dies, and is reincarnated to work for the Pentagon." That's a good tagline!

Joe: That was in 2006 that he wrote this, so it's been a while since it got shitcanned. On a somewhat somber note, that I found morbidly interesting in this context... Nick Cave—I've tried to listen to some of his newer music, it kind of sucks—but a lot of people like his music. His nine-year-old son died in 2015, and since his son died, a lot of his music has since been very somber. Very slow, dirge-y. Which I don't listen to music for that reason, I guess?

Lamson: To get that feeling?

Joe: But I guess my thought was, what if he took another run at the Gladiator 2 script. Would it be different? And you're laughing, but I'm not trying to make a joke.

Lamson: Where would he take it?!

Joe: Well, Maximus' whole fucking thing was that his son died, right?

Lamson: How did the guy's son die?

Joe: It was an accident.

Lamson: Ah shit. I was imagining it was cancer, so that in the movie they reincarnate Maximus so that he can cure cancer.

Joe: Oh jesus... I might cut all this, I dunno. [laughter]

Lamson: Totally cut it, dude. [laughter]

Joe: Jesus christ. We still have a lot to talk about.

Lamson: Great, man. Let's make this a 10,000-page thesis.

Joe: You mentioned Game of Thrones earlier—

Lamson: No, you did!

Joe: Did I? No I didn't.

Lamson: I said I love Game of Thrones.

Joe: I thought it was interesting comparing Game of Thrones and Gladiator, in that, I feel like Game of Thrones' whole thing was that goodness and being noble was punished. Like, Ned would fit so well in the Gladiator world. He was a good guy, he was noble, and he would ultimately be rewarded. Whereas in Game of Thrones, he got his head chopped off.

Lamson: I want to disagree. I want to think in Gladiator, it was perpetuated that goodness was rewarded, but every single thing that Maximus did ended poorly for him. He tried to be good, and left and right, all he was met with was adversity. At the beginning, he's offered this job, and says he wants to think about it. Before he even accepts, boom—this dude kills his dad and sentences Maximus to death. He escapes, goes home, and boom—his kid is already dead. He becomes a gladiator, says he's not going to fight, and then ends up fighting—

Joe: But he ultimately becomes "Maximus the Merciful." His reputation is intact. Whereas Ned dies in disgrace.

Lamson: I think that is because of the warping of Joffrey and Cersei and Tywin—

Joe: And Commodus!

Lamson: But here's the thing. Commodus dies the same time that Maximus does. There's no opportunity for him to twist Max's reputation. I feel like if Commodus had killed Maximus, and had survived, he would've used Roman propaganda to...

Joe: That's the reason that Maximus wasn't killed outright, because the people liked Maximus, right?

Lamson: ...You've just changed my mind. "Quintus, give me your sword!" And they don't. "Fuck you, man!"

Joe: Joffrey is Commodus unhinged.

Lamson: That's a good way to put it.

Joe: But... there's a lot fewer boobs in Gladiator.

Lamson: Yeah.

Joe: We'll move on. Does it bother you that there were things in the movie that weren't "historically correct"?

Lamson: No.

Joe: It doesn't matter to me either.

Lamson: What are top three things that are not historically correct? Just off the top of your mind.

Joe: I mean, I don't give a shit, so I don't have it off the top of my mind. But I do have a list.

Lamson: What was inaccurate?

Joe: I printed out this list to make this point, but again—I don't care.

Lamson: It's just a fun movie!

Joe: That was the big thing about Green Book last year, like, "Oh, did you know none of this actually ever happened?" I don't give a fuck. I didn't like the movie for other reasons, but...

Lamson: It's just a character story.

Joe: So, okay... [reading] Marcus Aurelius wasn't actually murdered by Commodus. There's no indication that Marcus Aurelius wished to return the republic to a democratic form of government. The film depicts Aurelius defeating the Barbarians, when in reality the war was still going on when he died. Etc. Etc. Etc. Commodus' sister was implicated in a plot to assassinate her brother, along with her husband, and several others. I don't care. I don't care. That doesn't add or subtract to the story. I wanted to see if you had any strong feelings on it.

Lamson: Not at all.

Joe: Okay, good.

Lamson: For me, I just accepted the movie as it was. I didn't care enough to be like [nerd voice] "Um, fact check!"

Joe: That's how it should be. It's called "movie magic" for a reason.

Lamson: If a movie says at the beginning of it, "Based on a true story," I'll go, "Oh, okay! Some of this is sort of real!" Otherwise, it's just complete... I don't want to say Gladiator is complete fiction...

Joe: It can draw on something and still take liberties.

Lamson: Gladiator is in no way advertised as a historical account. It's just a fun tale about what happened, roughly, with gladiators, and what may have happened to this guy. So, yeah, sorry! This is boring reading! No strong opinions on that!

Joe: I actually thought it was more interesting when the movie makers purposefully did not do something accurately, because they thought it would confuse the audience.

Lamson: Oh, I think I know what you're talking about. Um... nope, I'm thinking of Braveheart. Please continue.

Joe: Lamson's other favorite movie.

Lamson: No, no, no. Have you interviewed Drew A******** for this yet?

Joe: Unfortunately. [laughter]

Lamson: What was his favorite movie?

Joe: There Will Be Blood.

Lamson: "I drink your milkshake!" How many times did he say that? [laughter] He was telling me Braveheart one time, and about how General Cornwallis was shot with multiple arrows in real life, and survived, and it was taken out, because the audience would not buy it, and that's where my brain went.

[Editor's note: It's really hard to do research on movies I know nothing about and haven't seen. But here's what I can gather. There is a character in another Gibson movie, The Patriot, called General Cornwallis. The main guy in Braveheart has the last name Wallace, but I'm 99% sure that Lamson said "Cornwallis." Either way, googling "Cornwallis arrows" turned up jackshit, so I guess Drew is going to have to correct us all on Facebook when he reads this.]

Lamson: So what about Gladiator did they change because the audience wouldn't believe it?

Joe: Two main things. The first was that, in ancient Roman times, during gladiator matches, the gladiators would actually do product placement for products, like, I dunno...

Lamson: They were doing Geico insurance commercials!

Joe: I guess, yeah! But they thought it was too outlandish of a truth to include in this, and they cut it from the movie.

Lamson: That makes sense. Not this past summer, but 2018, I was driving to Madison, Wisconsin, with my old boss, and we were listening to this podcast about torture...

Joe: [laughter] Sounds like a good road trip.

Lamson: No, dude, it was really interesting! There was a part of it that was about Roman times, when people were subject to, ya know, "Hey, listen you're going to be a gladiator, and that's how you're going to die." And what the whole arena would look like, and how, when there weren't battles going on, people were just walking around, and there was food and drink. Imagine going to a Phillies game, but instead of watching the game, you're there to watch people kill each other.

Joe: A Mets player getting beat to death.

Lamson: There are souvenirs, and you can eat ice cream, and drink beer, and the seventh-inning stretch, people are using a T-shirt cannon.

Joe: Yeah, that was actually the other thing they had to cut, because they really had T-shirt cannons back in the day.

Lamson: No, they were T-shirt trebuchets, alright? [laughter] That's what the "T" stands for.

Joe: The other thing was, apparently, ya know how Commodus gives the thumbs up and thumbs down?

Lamson: Right, live or kill.

Joe: Apparently, in Roman times, thumbs down was the good one, and thumbs up was the bad one.

Lamson: Thumbs up meant kill, and thumbs down meant don't kill?

Joe: Right. But that would definitely confuse audiences.

Lamson: It was reversed.

Joe: In ancient Roman times.

Lamson: Wow. I think I may have heard that. You know what? That kind of pisses me off a little bit. In the movie, if they had just given us the context, if the crowd had reacted the same way, we could've picked it up.

Joe: What, like cutting to someone in the crowd saying, "He gave the thumbs up! That's bad! That's bad! He's going to die!" [laughter]

Lamson: Super-blatant, like, "Oh no! That's the symbol for death!"

Joe: Have you ever seen the meme that's the thumbs down thing?

Lamson: No.

Joe: That surprises me. You strike me as a meme guy.

Lamson: Big time! [laughter]

Joe: Do you know what the other meme is from Gladiator?

Lamson: Maybe.

Joe: The "are you not entertained?" thing.

Lamson: Oh yeah.

Joe: I had to explain to Pam what exactly a "meme" is.

Lamson: It's a picture with captions on the top and bottom.

Joe: I said it was the structure of a joke.

Lamson: Set-up, punchline.

Joe: So the "are you not entertained?" thing would be a punchline meme. And you put something before that. It would be like... If I was... If it was a stupid news story... oh, you're looking them up now.

Lamson: Sorry. I don't really see anything about the thumbs up, thumbs down one.

Joe: It would be like, talking about something you disagree with, you use this as the structure of the joke, by presenting the opposing viewpoint... okay, say... I dunno, I'm not a meme guy.

Lamson: Okay.

Joe: But it would be the set-up with the thumbs up, and then the dismissal of that statement next to the thumbs down.

Lamson: I'm surprised I haven't seen that before. But yeah, that's such a great part of the movie, where he does the fake out, and then the thumbs down, and the audience reacts. Ah... such a good movie.

Joe: I mean... it inspired two memes!! [laughter]

Lamson: "How do you judge how good a movie is?" "It's based on the number of memes." [laughter] It inspired two memes!

Joe: This was another thing I was explaining to Pam. She was like, "I don't know what this meme is from, so I don't get it."

Lamson: Like, if you've never seen Gladiator, you wouldn't understand.

Joe: No, my point was that, ya know, before I had ever seen Gladiator—

Lamson: You didn't get it.

Joe: No, the opposite! I got it. You don't have to see Gladiator to get the structure of a joke. You see some random fucking dude with a thumbs down, or you see a random fucking Roman dude with his hands out yelling "Aren't you entertained?" and you get what the joke is supposed to be. You don't need to see the movie. If there was a RuPaul's Drag Race meme, I don't need to see RuPaul's Drag Race to be able to get what the meme is.

Lamson: Makes sense.

Joe: I'm discussing comedy with the comedian! I thought you'd have more to say about memes. [laughter]

Lamson: ...

Joe: Note the thirty second pause.

Lamson: I don't know what else to say. I don't like making memes. I like taking memes that have already been made, and forwarding them.

Joe: And let the record show that I fucking hate memes! I hate them.

Lamson: Do you really? Aw, I love memes. Let the record show I love memes.

Joe: Three or four years ago, I was at Jim C****'s house, and him and all the boys were sitting around like, [Jim C**** impression] "Yo, did you see this meme?" "Ha. Yeah. Did you see this meme?" "Ha. Yeah." I was like, "What the fuck are you guys even talking about?!"

Lamson: I think five or six years ago, I liked memes. When I think of memes, I think of the original memes. It was a picture, and a top text and bottom text. For a long time, there was an arsenal of accepted template memes. Baby with the thumbs up, Awkward Brian, there was the stick figure with the hand over his head, Thumbs Up Jesus...

Joe: Douchebag Dan?

Lamson: Oh, Scumbag Steve! Yeah. So you get what I'm saying. There was this arsenal, people would recognize these memes. And then, over the past five years, meme culture has warped into something very absurd, and... what is the word? Kind of dark, and doesn't make sense. Like, you could put a random picture of a stock market, and it'll just say "STONKS" with a picture of a ladybug? There will be twenty thousand likes on Instagram! This type of abstract, absurdist—

Joe: I think you're showing your age, man. All these teenagers are using TikTok, it's some crazy bullshit. They're technically memes.

Lamson: I guess so. And the whole thing is that you don't laugh anymore. The reaction is just audibly exhaling through your nose is a sign that you enjoyed something.

Joe: So is it a generational thing that we would be using Gladiator memes? Are there any Gladiator TikTok memes? [laughter]

Lamson: I guarantee you there is zero Gladiator TikToks. And also, the fact that you said "TikTok memes" is a sign of your age. [laughter]

Joe: I am 31 years old, for the record.

Lamson: There is no such thing as "TikTok memes."

Joe: Yes there is! Bullshit!

Lamson: I think TikToks are separate from memes in the same way MySpace is separate from Facebook. They're all social media, but they're different things. That would be like your dad saying, "Hey, how may twitter xangas do you have?"

Joe: Ah jesus, let's change the subject.

Lamson: Sure, back to Gladiator.

Joe: Alright, so I'm starting this new bit where the person whom I did the last interview with asks a question, blindly, to the next person doing the interview.

Lamson: Oh, great.

Joe: I haven't seen the question yet, but Pam wrote down a question for you about Gladiator. Or maybe not about Gladiator! I don't fucking know.

Lamson: Just a question.

Joe: Just a question. Okay. "Who is your favorite Greek god, and why?"

Lamson: Wow.

Joe: Let's make the note here that this is not a Greek movie, this is a Roman movie. But you should answer the question straight-up. Who is your favorite Greek god, and why?

Lamson: Was Achilles a Greek god?

Joe: Probably.

Lamson: So here's why. Achilles was a man who was dipped into a pool. Either Zeus or somebody else grabbed him by the ankles, and held him upside down, and dunked him into the pool [Editor's note: Thetis did this to him in the River Styx]. The pool made him mostly godlike, except for the fact that he was being held by the ankles. So that's why the Achilles heel is the only part that's vulnerable. I guess that's called a demigod? Anyway, he's my favorite, and I'll tell you exactly why.

Joe: Because you tore your Achilles heel.

Lamson: No, I never did!

Joe: Not even falling off your longboard?

Lamson: Fortunately not. I broke my wrist, I bled out my kneecaps.

Joe: Got MRSA in your dick.

Lamson: Yup, I got dick MRSA. No, I like Achilles... dude, the Gladiator Effect! Do you remember Troy?

Joe: No, I do not.

Lamson: If you liked Gladiator, you would probably like the movie Troy. Within the next month or two, watch Troy. It stars Brad Pitt. How do you feel about Brad Pitt?

Joe: He's fine. He'll be nominated for Best Supporting Actor this year.

Lamson: I fucking love Brad Pitt. Are you talking about Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood?

Joe: Yeah.

Lamson: I just watched that last night.

Joe: Oh yeah! I'm trying to bring this bit back too, the one where we apologize to Drew A*******. Because he doesn't think that Brad Pitt is even going to be nominated. So let's spin the bit and say that we are not apologizing to Drew A*******.

Lamson: I don't have to apologize to him for anything.

Joe: In this specific regard, you are wrong about movies!

Lamson: Drew loves movies, and is very knowledgeable about them, and has a good eye—

Joe: He doesn't know shit about Brad Pitt!

Lamson: I fucking love Brad Pitt. I think he's so cool. He plays the same character, for the most part, in everything he's in. But I fucking love him. He's the star of Troy, he plays Achilles, and he just plays that part so good. And he's [Editor's note: Alright, that's enough, I'm cutting the rest of the extensive Troy plot points]. Dude, at some point, you should watch it.

Joe: I will not.

Lamson: I think you should. If you like Gladiator, you will like Troy.

Joe: If someone's favorite movie is Troy, I will watch it. But otherwise, no. I go to bed at 8 PM! I don't have time to watch movies anymore!

Lamson: Is that your only reason? Do you have any other reservations?

Joe: Well, let's go back to the beginning of this conversation. I'm fucking cynical! I'm a cynical movie watcher.

Lamson: I'll say this, and then we can drop it if you want. In the same way that you thought Gladiator was going to be nothing but a gore-fest, but it had a story that you enjoyed, Troy is very similar, in that you expect it to be nothing but fighting, but it has a really good storyline. It revolves around Helen of Troy, that's part of it. The other part is the backstory of Achilles, and how he became a demigod. Anyway. we can move on.

Joe: Please.

Lamson: [laughter] What a dick!

Joe: No that's Pam's fault. If she had said "Roman god" then we wouldn't have had to talk about goddamn Brad Pitt. But now that we're talking about Brad Pitt, and whether he's going to be nominated this year... let's talk about Oscars. Did Gladiator deserve the Best Picture award?

Lamson: Was it nominated?

Joe: It won.

Lamson: Oh, then yeah. What was it up against? Again, I was nine, I didn't pay attention, I don't know, I don't look back on these things.

Joe: I don't know either, and don't do the phone thing, I'll just put a note here later. [Editor's note: It was Chocolat and Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and Erin Brockovich and Traffic.] But it won. And obviously, you would make the case that it deserved it, because it is your favorite movie of all time.

Lamson: Uh huh. Frickin love it, dude.

Joe: It won five out of its twelve nominations. It won Best Actor, Best Sound, Best Costume, Best Digital Effects.

Lamson: I agree on all of those.

Joe: It lost Art Direction and Cinematography to Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.

Lamson: Yeah, because, I mean, it wasn't shot tastefully. It was shot well, but it was more about the acting, the story... When you say it won Best Visual Effects—there was never a moment when where I was like "This looks bad" or "This looks fake."

Joe: I actually disagree with you that there was never a bad-looking moment. There was that effect—

Lamson: The slow motion.

Joe: Yeah.

Lamson: Okay, fair. But that's not—

Joe: I think I read that they fucked up a scene, and they had to use that effect to fix it, and then they retroactively used it for a bunch of other scenes to justify it.

Lamson: Honestly, that makes more sense, which kinda sucks. But ya know what? That kind of adds to it.

Joe: I feel like it dated the movie. It looked like a late '90s movie.

Lamson: I really agree with you on that. If they could have fixed that one thing, and didn't have to recreate that to "cover" it, it would've been a perfect movie. That is my one beef with it, which I forgot, and I'll totally give you that.

[Editor's note: Some clarifications. What we're talking about here is shutter speed. Basically, during these types of scenes, there is a lower framerate, which makes it look choppy (or strobe-like), but doesn't slow it down. Apparently, this movie was inspired to use it by Saving Private Ryan, which also used it. And I may have stretched the truth by saying that it was a "mistake." There was a mistake with one of the shutter speed decisions, but they fixed it in post. Read more about there HERE. I may have just been plain mistaken too, with the "mistake" allegation. I have no clue. In any case, I'll stand by my claim that it makes Gladiator seem dated and it looks shitty.]

Joe: Let's see... it lost Best Original Screenplay to Almost Famous. Which is a good movie.

Lamson: Yeah. And that makes sense, because Gladiator isn't necessarily "original." Roman sword fighting, that's not original. Almost Famous is more unique. I'll give it that.

Joe: Eh, that's pretty much all I need to talk about with that. Oh, um, Best Supporting Actor, lost.

Lamson: Joaquin Phoenix lost?

Joe: Yeah.

Lamson: That's surprising.

Joe: To Benicio Del Toro in Traffic.

Lamson: I've never seen Traffic.

Joe: I've never seen Traffic either, but he was really good in It's Always Sunny as Pappy McPoyle.

Lamson: Wait... I'm looking this up now.

Joe: Don't look it up now.

Lamson: I'll look it up later.

[Editor's note: Maybe he should have looked it up, because then I would have had the big realization a week earlier than I eventually did—Benecio Del Toro and Guillermo Del Toro are completely different people. I have no idea how I went my entire life assuming they were the same person, but that should tell you how far I still need to travel on the road to actually knowing a single goddamn thing about film. P.S. Guillermo Del Toro as Pappy McPoyle is still hilarious.]

Lamson: No, but that's upsetting, because Joaquin Phoenix did so good. Bummer.

Joe: Oh, yeah, I meant to bring this up. For Beerito Christmas Pollyanna, Allison gave me "The Big Movie Quiz." It was a hundred questions for three different categories, one was Comedy—so not Gladiator—but then Action Movies, and Oscar Winners. Out of 200 fucking questions, you'd think Gladiator would be in there. It wasn't!

Lamson: You read through all of the questions?

Joe: I just flipped through it.

Lamson: I guess if you think about it—how many movies exist?

Joe: It was a big Oscar winner though! I dunno. Also, I guess the question would've been something like "What 2000 movie starred Joaquin Phoenix?" Okay, I'm just going through my notes here. So have we gotten around to why this is your favorite movie? Do you have a specific reason? Or did we touch on it, for the most part?

Lamson: I feel like maybe we've grazed it in a couple ways.

Joe: Let's solidify it.

Lamson: I watched this movie for the first time when I was nine or ten. It's stayed my favorite for all these years, because when I first watched it, there were a lot of things that made sense and hit hard.

Joe: Like what?

Lamson: A lot of the things at the time I didn't realize? One thing, when I was a kid, I would watch movies like Gladiator, or Lord of the Rings, or medieval war movies, and I would think, "There's no way I could ever be a soldier." When I was a kid, that terrified me. So I admired that. I admired people who had the ability to suppress fear and move forward without it, being able to go into battles. That was cool and admirable and noble. Beyond that, I think the fact that my Dad thought it was such a good movie, I took his opinion away from that. I thought the fight scenes were so cool, I was like, "This is a cool movie!" And I think also because of the fact that there were intricate interpersonal relationship sideplots—like with Commodus and his sister, like with Maximus and the sister, at the beginning with Maximus and Aurelius—all stuff that I didn't fully grasp yet. The movie was so thoughtful that I wanted to understand it. So I was like, "This movie is good because I don't get it." So I think there's a lot of different areas where I was like, "This is a good movie, it's cool to watch, I don't fully get it yet." Maybe that's why I kept wanting to watch it as I got older. And then probably, you watch it three or four more times, you get older and start to understand things, and it never got bad! Like, I watched Phantom Menace when I was a kid. It was great! But I watch it now, and am like, "This is garbage!"

Joe: It doesn't hold up.

Lamson: Gladiator is one of those movies that, every time I watch it, I'm like, "Oh, it holds up." There are other movies—"I love Gangs of New York!" and "I love Dodgeball!"—but Gladiator had always been number one, and has never been bad.

Joe: Do you watch it nowadays and see yourself in a character?

Lamson: Yeah, I'll project and want to be Maximus.

Joe: Do you relate to Maximus?

Lamson: My initial reaction is no. I want to say yes. Like, "Oh, yeah, I'm noble, and strong, and wise, and good a strategic planner." It's like, I don't fucking know.

Joe: You don't think you're any of those things?

Lamson: Maybe, I don't know. I really don't relate to that.

Joe: Some self-reflection.

Lamson: He's happily married with a wife and a kid, and he's a general in the biggest army in the world, and is able to think his way out of slavery, and I'm just like... fuck. Maybe it's more just from a place of admiration. Maybe the sad thing is I relate more to Commodus? I don't want to, but it's like, "Fuck, maybe I relate more to that guy." He's stuck with a shitty situation, and you try to make the best of it, and you make mistakes. He's too proud. I feel like I don't relate with Commodus that he's so proud that he would kill Maximus. I don't think I would ever do that. [laughter] I relate the most to Lucius, the kid.

Joe: That was—

Lamson: Actually, no. I'm going to take a step back. I think I relate to Commodus' sister the most. What was her name?

Joe: Lucia.

Lamson: Lucia... oh, that makes sense why her son's name is Lucius. I think I relate—and I've never had this thought before, you're putting me on the spot right now—I think I relate to her the most, because of the fact that she's put in this extremely difficult situation, and she doesn't necessarily come out on top, but she does the best that she can given her circumstances, and tries to navigate through it, and is just trying to look out for her and her family. She goes out for what she wants, and she doesn't get it, with Maximus. She's not special.

Joe: So how is this you? I did not expect that answer.

Lamson: Okay, like, people ask me what house I would be in at Hogwarts. I want to say Gryffindor. It's like, well, I'm not! Everybody wants to say they're Gryffindor. Or like, in Star Wars, everyone is like, "I'm Luke Skywalker." It's like, are you? I think I'm good at a lot of things, I think I'm a good person, I don't think I'm a lord general who can trick an emperor, and escape slavery, and... I think of her as somebody who's doing their best to navigate and stay afloat and not drown. She's the most real person.

Joe: I didn't expect to be in this position, that I would be defending you as a person.

Lamson: Did you think I was going to say Maximus?

Joe: I thought you were going to say Maximus. Because I think there are certain similarities you share with Maximus.

Lamson: There's a little bit of everybody. But go on.

Joe: Up at the Poconos during the La Salle Friends trip, you were a good leader, in terms of cultivating your friends' strength, in the crossfit class you ran. You were a crossfit leader, we did a crossfit class. You exhibited leadership in that. You obviously feel that strength is a positive attribute, right?

Lamson: That's fair. Okay. I do enjoy... "being the center of attention" is the wrong phrase, but I do enjoy that. When people look up to me, I enjoy that. Which is also—

Joe: Yeah, but then that's interesting, because that's also a Commodus thing. Because, ya know, he was like, "I need people to appreciate me, so I'm going to have 150 days of parties."

Lamson: Saying "need to" is different than saying I like that.

Joe: I'm saying that Commodus, as a character, needed the appreciation. And we already talked about it, how he was not appreciated by his dad in the way that he wanted to be. He's kind of trying to make up for it, or—what the fuck's the word—compensate for it.

Lamson: Let me try to solidify why I think Lucia is the perfect answer. I think she is a perfect combination of qualities from both Commodus and Maximus. She's in a position of power, being as she is the daughter of Marcus Aurelius, but she's a woman.

Joe: Is she in a place of power? I don't know if I agree with you there.

Lamson: She can influence senators, and garner favors, because she is the daughter of Marcus Aurelius, and the brother of Commodus. But because she's a woman, in that time, she's fighting an uphill battle, because women were not as powerful as men back then. So it's like, she has this status, without having a status, so she has to get creative and navigate.

Joe: It seems like you're describing a Slytherin.

Lamson: I would say Commodus is a Slytherin. I would say Lucia is a Ravenclaw.

Joe: I dunno.

Lamson: You would agree that Commodus is clearly a Slytherin, though? Out of the four houses. Or would you say something else?

Joe: He's not cunning. His weaknesses are on his fucking sleeve.

Lamson: But then what would he be?

Joe: I dunno. Maybe that's just the weakness of the four-house system.

Lamson: Anyway.

Joe: But okay, so I guess Maximus and Commodus are leaders in their own ways. They are leaders in very different ways. Do you see yourself as a leader?

Lamson: Yeah?

Joe: I do too. In what specific ways?

Lamson: I think personally... something I really enjoy is pulling people together. I feel like a lot of people are hesitant to break the threshold. I'm the type of person that, if I'm at a grocery store and I don't know where something is, I'm like, "Hey, you work here? Can you tell me where to go?" Or if I'm lost, I'll roll down my window, "Hey, tell me where to go?" I don't care if I don't know you, let's make the connection and move on. So in terms of, ya know... you could think back to college, when we were at parties, I'm always like, let's get everyone in a room together, and let's just fucking go. Let's have fun and have a good time. I'm the type of person who really enjoys bringing people together. And I think a big weakness of mine can be thinking beyond that. Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. But it's like, listen, I get excited about things, and when I get really excited about something, it's genuine. That genuine excitement pulls people in. I think people sniff out fakeness, and people are drawn toward meaningful and genuine intention. I feel like I exude that. If I like something, I'm an evangelist for that thing. And people are drawn to that, and I think that's a huge quality of mine.

Joe: I'm glad we're headed in this direction, but it's something that I find so interesting about you, and about our relationship, I guess, between me and you. You are absolutely correct in that you pull people together. And sometimes... I don't want to say that that's a bad thing, but sometimes, my own...

Lamson: If you're afraid of hurting me, say whatever you want.

Joe: No, no, not at all. I guess I just feel like that exposes my own flaws as a person, sometimes. Let me think of an example. So, you definitely bring people together, you're definitely a leader in that way. That's awesome. But then in the act of bringing people together, it sometimes rubs me the wrong way. Like, okay, remember that time that you brought a bunch of kids to the Maeve Rave [a La Salle party]? It was like, "Oh yeah, I'll pay their five bucks later." And to me, that was like, I know Lamson is never going to pay me those five bucks. These kids have to pay me the five dollars, or get the fuck out of my house! [laughter] Or, like... and then also, on top of all this, this is definitely making me sound like an asshole.

Lamson: No, for the record, not paying five dollars is a big fucking flaw. I'll take the heat on that.

Joe: But let's go to a couple months ago. Let's go to the Poconos trip. The leadership role that you took on to organize Garyball—which, I guess I'll have to make an editor's note about what Garyball is [Editor's note: a drinking game, I'll explain some other time]—Garyball requires chugging some beers. It was right when me and Pam and Willow got there. You organized the game, got a bunch of Hamm's from my cooler, that I had rationed out for the whole weekend. So this is good, this is what you needed through the leadership role, in that you needed cheap beer, but then it was... they're taking my fucking Hamm's! Ya know?

Lamson: That goes right back to what I said about not thinking past it to that next step. It's like, in my mind, we're all going to have a bunch of cases of beer, if we run out and get some more beer.

Joe: Right, and I get it, I get it.

Lamson: But I didn't think, "Oh, you brought this, this is for you, should I ask permission, should I ask if it's okay with you?" So that's just not even being practical.

Joe: But then it turns into me, three fucking months later, talking on record about you stole a 47 cent beer from me. I feel like the asshole!

Lamson: Ah man... I'm sorry. [laughter]

Joe: Don't be sorry, that wasn't the point. So... fifteen years ago, I got my Eagle Scout honors, and Ed McG****'s dad, who was our scoutmaster, had to give a speech. He said that the quality that he sees most in me is "leadership," but he warns me—the leadership can be good or bad. You can misuse your leadership, I guess. Which... has haunted me, I guess. I've lead people to do stupid shit. I'm definitely not... definitely, definitely not trying to say that you've been a bad leader. I dunno. I dunno. I'm fucking drunk, man.

Lamson: I wanna throw a comment out there. A lot of these things are... I feel like it's weird that we're doing this in the context of—

Joe: Of Gladiator? [laughter]

Lamson: I feel like we're both saying some serious truths through the venue of this. I think it's funny, man. To hear you say these things like "I see you as a leader," it feels really good. And also, it's interesting, because I've always held you in high status, seen you as a leader, and your opinions and thoughts have had high value for me. I feel like any time I let you down or don't have your approval on something, it weighs heavy on me. So it's weird to me when you're like "Aw, I'm a bad leader," that's just interesting to hear you say.

Joe: I've feel like I've been too hard on you sometimes.

Lamson: I dunno. I think we're all pretty thick-skinned. I think that's just the nature of our friend group. So maybe. I don't think you've ever done it if you thought I couldn't handle it.

Joe: I just... I dunno. There's a history of you doing little things that piss me off that shouldn't piss me off. It makes me feel worse about myself, because I know that you don't mean to do these things. I know when you—this is so fucking stupid!—I know when you took a Hamm's out of the cooler, I know you didn't mean to piss me off, and I know you didn't mean to slight me in any way. And then when I get pissed off, that's me self-reflecting, like, "How could I possibly be pissed off at somebody taking a 47 cent beer?" It doesn't make any sense. That makes me think that I'm a shitty person.

Lamson: I guess... and I know, the person I am now, and the person I was ten years ago, are very much the same person. I think I've changed a little over the past decade, but I know that I've done things that have pissed some people off.

Joe: But it's stupid bullshit.

Lamson: Either way, any time you have a thought like that, I wish you would just be vocal about it.

Joe: Well, I do.

Lamson: Fair. Maybe that's on me for not recognizing it, then.

Joe: But, ya know, you're walking a tightrope, because when I say, "Oh, they're using my Hamm's for Garyball," then it becomes, "You know I needed to use these for the whole weekend, right?" and then it becomes, "But did I really need to use them?"

Lamson: "Let's just go buy some more."

Joe: Right. And then what, am I going to Venmo charge you a dollar fifteen?

Lamson: I would have been more than happy to buy you a case the next day. You didn't ask me to.

Joe: Exactly, because that's me. I'm holding it in.

Lamson: Sorry man.

Joe: No, you don't have to be sorry. Who am I in Gladiator? Give me your worst.

Lamson: [laughter] One of the senators.

Joe: Yeah, a shitbag senator who doesn't say shit!

Lamson: No, there's the good one. Graccus? You're Graccus. He's the good one!

Joe: I'm a Commodus, man. I'm a Commodus.

Lamson: You're not Commodus, dude. I don't think you're Commodus.

Joe: Was I too harsh?

Lamson: Not at all. I think this brought us closer together, actually.

Joe: Any negative thought I've thought about you, I've always come back around and said, "This is on me, this is not on Lamson."

Lamson: Man... it sounds like you've had a lot of negative thoughts about me.

Joe: No. It's always petty bullshit.

Lamson: I'm sorry.

Joe: Stop. C'mon, stop. This is insane.

Lamson: So... who are you in Gladiator?

[laughter]

Joe: Oliver Reed, who fucking died.

Lamson: Who is that?

Joe: Proximo.

Lamson: No, who would be Proximo?

Joe: Oh, are we going to cast our friends?

Lamson: Sure.

Joe: Nah... let's make the readers cast their friends in the comments.

Lamson: Here's a fun little thing, a little trinket. It's so fucking stupid, don't even add it. But I'll tell you! When I first graduated college, and I lived with Drew A******, and we did catering for a few months, and that sucked, so I moved back in with my parents, before I moved to Chicago. When I lived with my parents, I worked at a Chili's for a while.

Joe: I remember that!

Lamson: Four months. When I was working at Chili's, we had this whole bit that the only way to get good tips was to "win" that table, to get them to like you. Me and my Dad had watched Gladiator around then. There's the quote that goes [Proximo voice] "Win the crowd!" My Mom started saying that any time I would go to work, she would say "Win the crowd!" so I could get good tips that night.

Joe: Did it work?

Lamson: Yeah, I would walk up to tables, and just try to be fun and weird and shit, and...

Joe: And they wouldn't say anything, and you'd be like "Are you not entertained?!" [laughter]

Lamson: Yeah. "Welcome to Chili's, motherfuckers!"

Joe: What would be a Chili's cocktail based on Gladiator?

Lamson: Shit, dude.

Joe: Commo-Dos Equis?

Lamson: Maxi-margarita?

Joe: Proxi-mojito?

Lamson: There ya go. That's where you end the interview.

This Is My Blood: Norwegian Wood

"Sensation starts with stimulation, and ends with perception." Mosher starts with the very bare basics in Chapter 2, where we truly begin our tasting journey (Chapter 1 was a history of beer, which was very interesting, but less relevant to this project; we may circle back eventually).

The basic gist of it all is that we have 5+ senses that send signals to our brain, and our brain translates those signals into emotions and language. The three main senses pertinent to experiencing beer are:

1. Taste (duh)
2. Smell
3. Mouthfeel

Mosher goes on to explain that there is a difficulty in translating taste and smell and mouthfeel into language, because our brains are not equipped for that. The "ancient" sections of the brain that translate these particular senses don't translate to language; they instead translate to more of a "gut reaction." E.g. if something tastes terrible, you spit it out. That's your brain telling you to spit it out. Your brain isn't waiting to create an explanation for the terrible taste, it just knows, and it makes you spit. This is just how our brains evolved.

So the point is, I guess, tasting and smelling and feeling beer is a tall fucking task. Complicating matters is that our brain also naturally combines those senses. Something cannot smell "sweet," but our brains have long ago created a strong association between smells such as chocolate and caramel and their subsequently sweet taste, and so it becomes a "sweet smell."

Mosher lays out the challenge ahead—we must "untrain" our senses, and somehow learn to separate taste from smell from mouthfeel, and then force our brains to create ways to describe these things.

This is pretty difficult in practice, but I tried another beer today with all these thoughts in mind. I wanted one with unique flavor, and the imported Norwegian Wood by HaandBryggeriet seemed to fit the bill. Labeled as a "smoked ale," it was not like any beer I've had in a while.

First, smell—you could definitely smell the smoke.

Second, taste—you could definitely taste the smoke.

It was a taste that lingered in your mouth, even after swallowing. It was definitely an interesting taste. Sometimes "interesting" can be good; this wasn't good. Sometimes "interesting" can be bad; this wasn't bad. It was memorable enough that I can taste it even now as I type this, hours after drinking the damn beer.

Only after maybe ten seconds of holding the beer in your mouth can you taste the advertised juniper as well. And here's something weird—if I held it in my mouth for longer than that, then it started to taste almost medicinal, which wasn't pleasant.

Maybe that's because I have like 5% of a cold right now, and whatever bullshit is going on in the back of my throat is messing around with the tastes. Pam, who has about 90% of a cold, said that the beer almost tasted sour, which was not a sensation I got. But I thought that was worth nothing, since it goes to show how precious our senses are, and how easily they can be affected by sickness or health.

The beer had a wonderful description too: "Once, every farm in Norway was required by law to brew its own ale. The ale had a smoky flavor, and most of it was spiced with juniper. This is our take on this traditional style." I wonder if I would've picked up on the juniper if I hadn't read that (with my sense of sight!). That's probably one sense getting mixed up with another. I will say that I will always enjoy an agrarian description of beer—the idea of drinking a homemade brew on your own farm is so quaint and adorable.

It looks like the rest of Chapter 2 digs into the nuances of taste and smell and mouthfeel, so I'll continue to follow along and see if I can refine these senses and experiences.

NOTES

BEER: Norwegian Wood

GENRE: Smoke beer

ABV: 6.5%

BREWED BY: HaandBryggeriet

LOCATION: Drammen, Norway

PURCHASED AT: Iron Abbey in Horsham, PA

PRICE (AT THAT LOCATION): Christmas gift, so I don't know!!

PAIRED WITH: Pasta with pesto (don't worry, Mosher has a whole chapter on beer/food pairings, so we'll eventually get to that)

GRADE: 2 pukes out of 5

Sunday, January 5, 2020

Album of the Week: Hill Climber

We’ve made it through the holiday EP weeds, and have arrived a fresh new year of Record Club. I’m so excited for 2020, you guys. I think we have a great January lineup already for y’all. As always, if you have an idea for an album, hit me up, and we’ll work it into the schedule. But if you are more content to just sit back and relax and let the new (and old!) tunes wash over you, then you do you. That’s great. I love it. I love Record Club. Let’s do this shit.

The new LP is below, the old LPs are all the way to the right when you click on the “Record Club” link, and the ongoing Record Club playlist can be found by clicking HERE.

WEEK 49 — January 5-12, 2020

What we’re listening to (Sam’s pick):


ALBUM: Hill Climber
ARTIST: Vulfpeck


RELEASED: December 7, 2018

WHAT GENRE IS THIS: Funk

WHY SAM PICKED IT: “If Lamson played in a funk/soul band, but it was good.” [Editor’s note: Come back to PoYB tomorrow morning if you want to learn more about Lamson.]

TRACKLIST:
  1. Half of the Way
  2. Darwin Derby
  3. Lonely Town
  4. Love Is a Beautiful Thing
  5. For Survival
  6. Soft Parade
  7. Lost My Treble Long Ago
  8. Disco Ulysses (Instrumental)
  9. The Cup Stacker
  10. It Gets Funkier IV
LENGTH: 33:40

READING SOME SHIT: Hey, remember that band that released a completely silent album and stole $20K from Spotify? That shit was hilarious, and I had no idea that that band was Vulfpeck. So here’s an equally hilarious CNBC video with Vulfpeck’s Jack Stratton about all that.

Happy listening, fam! Have a great week!

This Is My Blood: Modelo Especial


Something that I've thought about often is whether it would be possible to have a beer at every bar in the city at least once. For me, the answer is: absolutely not. Obviously. I have to assume there are over 1000 bars in Philly proper, which would take years even at one per day (and it would also probably take years off your life).

Plus, that defeats the purpose of visiting a bar in the first place, doesn't it? You want to go somewhere that you're comfortable with, somewhere that's convenient. If I spent all my time driving to obscure corner bars on the other side of the city, I would be neglecting all the important drinking I could be doing close to home, with kith and kin.

Still, the desire to explore and to discover remains within me. When it is convenient, I'd like to visit all kinds of unknown secluded bars in those pockets of the city I wouldn't normally be. As it turns out, two or three times a month, I find myself driving around the city, sometimes far away from Port Richmond. When the timing works out (not many bars are open Sunday mornings), I'm gonna have a beer and see what's up at these bars. I'm gonna use This Is My Blood as an excuse.

So today, I found myself in West Oak Lane, a neighborhood that I have never hung out in casually. While I usually use my book of Philly street maps to get around (being a Luddite can be refreshing in certain scenarios!), I used Google Maps to search for a bar nearby (clicking on the "open now" button, which weeded out a lot of options).

I found myself at a little place called Tavern on the Green, tucked away about a block off of a semi-bustling Stenton Ave. Don't get confused on google—the map calls it "ATM Tavern on the Green," but that's only because there is an ATM machine out front. It's called Tavern on the Green.

Of course, being a Sunday morning, I was the only person in there besides the bartender. My inquiry about whether they were open was met with a terse "yes." I chose the middle of about twelve seats around the bar. There were some poker machines in the back, an advertisement for Caribbean food above the bar, and that's about it as far as accouterments go. I love it. I don't need anything besides a beer fridge at my bars, honestly.

The fridge was indeed packed with beer (no taps as far as I could tell). I wanted to pick the least popular/well-known beer they had, because I didn't want to burn Miller Lite or Bud Light or Heineken, et al, so early in this project. (I also didn't want any malt liquor, which they absolutely had in every permutation, even Hurricane High Gravity in cans!) That means I landed on Modelo in a bottle, served with a napkin spiked in it (I have some theories about the napkin thing that I need to refine before espousing it here).

Modelo is probably a higher-end mass-produced Mexican beer, if I'm not mistaken. It's more higher-end than Tecate, in any case. The taste was just fucking right. It was crisp, clean, and was just begging for a lime (it was early, she hadn't cut them yet, but that's okay). It was refreshing in a way that most craft beer just isn't, ya know?

My cold beer was about as brisk as the conversation with the barkeep. I asked about the Caribbean food poster above the bar, and she briefly explained that I could buy it at the supermarket (she didn't know which one). I confirmed for her that the Eagles played at 4 PM, not 1 PM. And we said about five words each about the awful cable news program on the television, before mutually agreeing that no, we didn't need to hear some douchebag explain why war was necessary (it's not!!!!!!!), and she changed the channel. 

Probably my only qualm about the 20 minutes I was there was the bathroom, which was adequate at first glance, but soon revealed itself to be a home for multiple cockroaches, one of them actually crawling on the toilet seat. If I had had to poop and sat down without looking, it probably would've crawled into my asshole. Let it be written—no matter how many more beers I have at Tavern on the Green, I will never poop at Tavern on the Green.

Someone wrote on their Facebook page a couple years ago that "once you come your family" [sic]. I don't know if I will ever make it back to Tavern on the Green, but it's good to know that even though the bartender may not have seemed to want anything to do with some goofy ass white kid bothering her on a Sunday morning, in her deepest of hearts, I am now her family.

Tavern on the Green
5714 Anderson Street
Open 7AM-2AM every day

GRADE: 2.5 pukes out of 5


NOTES

BEER: Modelo Especial

GENRE: Mexican lager

ABV: 4.4%

BREWED BY: Grupo Modelo S.A. de C.V.

LOCATION: Mexico City, Mexico

PURCHASED AT: Tavern on the Green

PRICE (AT THAT LOCATION): $4.75 (though they did advertise $2 Buds all day every day)

PAIRED WITH: an escape from the cold North Philly winds

GRADE: 3 pukes out of 5

Saturday, January 4, 2020

Song of the Week: "Money (That's What I Want)"

Songs not free, pay HERE.



"Money (That's What I Want)"
Barrett Strong
a single b/w "Oh I Apologize"
1959

(something borrowed)

During that period of time in between December's Listmas and a new year's music release schedule starting up again, I spend a good month or so listening to shuffle. That's it. My iPod has some good songs, and shuffling is a great way to rediscover some of them. Here's one that I rediscovered a love for.

In high school, I picked up a Motown compilation CD from the Lawncrest 4th of July flea market, and I played the shit out of that thing, especially when drinking with friends. Motown, I had discovered, was the PERFECT party music—the upbeat songs, anyway. They were throwback in a non-lame way, they were fun in a timeless way, they were easy to dance to. I remember fondly one night in Cape May with my best friends, cases of Miller High Life, an iPod dock, and oven mitts. All I had to do is push play on the Motown playlist, and the party started. "Money (That's What I Want)" was the first song on the playlist, and so it became a call to arms, a clarion call to the young teen drunks of the world to get down and fucking boogie.

There's plenty of people who agree with me that this is one of the all time greats:
  • Music journalist Charles Shaar Murray describes "Money" as "one of the earliest Motown classics from the days when the label left some of R&B's rough edges in place."
  • Author Nick Talevski calls the song an "R&B classic."
  • Classic Motown states that the opening piano riff is "perhaps as recognizable as the song itself."
  • Financial Times says that it has a "powerful vocal performance by Strong" (but then claims that the Beatles' version is "blistering").
  • Journalist Paul Sexton states that "the track’s insistent beat and persuasive message were infectious."
  • Rolling Stone claims it is the 294th best song of all time: "With a howling vocal over a live band, this was gutbucket R&B, far more raw than the Motown hits that followed"
  • Nate Patrin on Stereogum states that it "found a real charge in taking on one of the most bluntly cynical pop songs to ever discuss life under capitalism."
And on and on and on.

This Is My Blood: Below Zero

How's it going with the mostly-sober thing, Joey? Double Nickel's Below Zero was my fourth beer of 2020, and it's the fourth day of the year. I'm not saying that it an achievement—zero beers, forty days in would probably be an achievement, but not this—but still though, I feel like I'm starting my year right.

Have there been moments during the past 96 hours where I felt the deep-seeded desire to tie one on? Fuck yeah, there always is. I could've used a few more beers at Craft Hall after the 763rd time Willow decided to go down the slide. Pizza nights like last night would've resulted in at least seven beers in the past, especially since it was after a second birthday party. I'll always have infinite reasons to get drunk, and in the past, I would more than likely give in.

But not so. Not yet, anyway... we're only four days in, after all. I figured that tonight was probably a good night to drink one of the heavier beers in my fridge. Not that even a dark brown ale is going to get me fucked up after one, but it would get me closer to feeling some type of warmth than a Hamm's would.

Double Nickel Brewing provided the good cheer tonight (and yeah, I keep thinking about Double Nickels on the Dime). Their Below Zero Winter Ale was just what I needed. There was a lot of spice packed into the very dark brown beer. Mostly cinnamon, a flavor that was evident as soon as it hit my tongue, but also cardamom apparently, which I'm just reading about on Wikipedia now is part of the ginger family. The ginger wasn't as evident, though it's not like the beer can description was mendacious, I just didn't fucking know what cardamom was at the time. I thought I tasted chocolate or cocoa too, but I don't think there's chocolate in here—like the "banana" the other day, this tells me that I have some work to do with the ol' palette. But this shit went down smooth. I enjoyed it.

It would work great as a beer to go with dessert, but you know how it goes at the end of January for us big dreamers, trying to cut down on the sweets. So instead, it was paired with some lemon-pepper salmon, which makes NO sense as a pairing. Whatever. The salmon was fucking great. I told Pam it was one of the best salmon cuts we had had in a long time, and she looked at me like I was crazy. I think maybe it's just that I'm so hungry all the time that everything tastes fucking great? Is this why I liked Below Zero so much too? Because I'm so damn thirsty all the time? Probably!

There will be many more and greater challenges throughout this year when it comes to cutting down on the beer. I won't always be perfect, but I'm going to try, and I'm glad to have interesting, heavy-ass beers like this to explore in the meantime.

NOTES

BEER: Below Zero

GENRE: Winter warmer

ABV: 7.8%

BREWED BY: Double Nickel Brewing Company

LOCATION: Pennsauken, NJ

PURCHASED AT: The Iron Abbey in Horsham (by Pam)

PRICE (AT THAT LOCATION): Santa doesn't leave price tags on

PAIRED WITH: Lemon-pepper salmon (bought at Lidl, seasoned at home) and green beans

GRADE: 3.5 pukes out of 5

Friday, January 3, 2020

Better, Nate


It's not that the EP isn't good, it's that it's front-loaded with one of, if not the best emo song of 2019. "Better" is in the same conversation as anything from the Hotelier or Foxing or Sidekicks or American Football that you might have in the theoretical discussion of meaningful, artistic emo rocket ships from the '10s.

Beyond that, Better is fine. "New Chemical Hades" sits nearly at the intersection of early Death Cab for Cutie and "Attitude" by Alien Ant Farm. "Learn Your Love" is closer to whatever you're imagining when you imagine "emo song in 2019." The function of an EP is to build excited or clear the throat before a proper full release. Bring on the pancakes, Caracara.

Better, Sam


An EP exists for several reasons: to spotlight a new artist; tease a longer release that’s forthcoming; or provide a platform for one song or a few songs that can be released outside of an entire album (maybe because the ideas for a full album aren’t there yet).

The Better EP represents the latter. The song “Better” is a fine blend of a lyrical Springsteen / Titus Andronicus sound that mixes just enough emo to be palpable. It builds momentum and crescendos with a dancy nonsense coda to bring it all around. I liked it.

The other two songs are forgettable. The singer has the self-awareness to admit he’s “getting too apocalyptic.” Each of the other songs increased it’s sad-sack tendencies.

I’ll give Caracara a go if I hear the band again. That’s as good a compliment as I can give.

Better, Joe


I find myself superficially face-to-face with Philadelphia’s awful opioid epidemic on a weekly basis, due mostly to the fact that the Route 60 bus drops me off at Kensington and Allegheny (and due to a surprisingly smaller extent, my job). But I rarely ever think about it, ya know? It’s just a shitshow that I walk through with my head down as I go from bus to subway.

So I can at least credit “Better” for making me give it more than a passing thought. Not that it, or I, offers any solutions, and not that either of us are even equipped to try. But I was captivated by the idea that those with whom I grew up could end up at that same K&A corner under wildly different circumstances.

He, my friend, did, in fact, end up there, at one point, though he has thankfully escaped. I tried, but I couldn’t do anything then, because I didn’t really know how. Of course, Joe—pass the blame. But I thought you knew me better than that.

Okay, the music! Hey! “Better” is fucking great! It takes off midway through in a way that not many other songs and bands can pull off. It’s fucking powerful, even if you’re not lamenting the corpses under the tracks. Mannequin Pussy's Marisa Dabice (#4) adds some extra texture in the back half. Just from a musical standpoint, it’s wild. It would’ve been Top 10 of 2019 if I was aware of its existence before this.

The other two songs are fine, but certainly don’t reach those heights. I guess the issue might have something to do with specificity—I find myself trying to figure out what the heck the song is about in a way that I didn’t have to do with “Better”—but honestly, it’s just that the music doesn’t do what the first song does, in terms of excitement, theatrics, sending shivers down my spine, etc.

“Learn Your Love” is probably the lesser of the two. It sounds like some tossed-off alt-grunge shit from the ‘90s. I guess that could sound like a complaint, and it kind of is, but also I’ll say that it isn’t as bad as some of the stuff that probably subconsciously inspired it. “New Chemical Hades” is better, only because I find myself growing infinitely fonder of all shades of emo as I grow into old age, which seems oxymoronic, and quite possibly is.

So if you’re out there searching for an EP to enjoy, then Better is worth it just for the title track alone. If you can even pretend to give a shit about what’s happening right next door, then you’ll probably find something here to grab you by the lapel and wake you up a little more. As a complete work, Better is about as good as you can expect from a twelve-minute salvo.

GRADE: 3.5 pukes out of 5

This Is My Blood: Accumulation


We've established that I don't know anything about beer tasting, and clearly I don't want to spend the next 364 days lamenting on that fact. I need someone to guide me through this journey. That guide is Randy Mosher. Let me introduce you to his book, Tasting Beer.


Mosher, the Mike Ehrmantraut-looking motherfucker on the cover there, will be my Beer Buddha in 2020, whether he likes it or not. I've only gotten through a couple chapters (it's tough to do extracurricular reading so close to a book club meeting), but it seems like this guy knows his stuff. Here's the quote that made me know I picked the right bible for this project:
"Drinking is mindless and unstructured, while tasting has rules. Drinking comes naturally, while tasting requires training and effort."
Whether favorable or foible, it is absolutely true that my alcohol intake has always been mindless. I guzzle beers like they are water and don't think anything of it. I have never stopped to sniff the proverbial flowers. I hope that Mosher can teach me how to do this.

I can't think of a better beer to "sniff flowers" with than New Belgium's Accumulation White IPA. Over the past few days, I've smelled the beer before I've tasted it, only because that's what "tasters" do, I guess? But Accumulation was the first one I've smelled and gone, "holy shit this smells good."

Obviously this says a lot about my appreciation for strong IPAs, but it probably has a little bit to do with the strong association with the memories of discovering IPAs when I was first allowed to go to bars. Craft beers aren't a thing when you are a teenager and can only afford Natty Light. The smell of IPAs consequentially became the smell of "becoming an adult" so to speak. (e.g. I still miss Dam Brewtal IPA.)

The taste of Accumulation was big and bold, which is another way of saying it was sharp as fuck with the hops, and I loved it. That's all I can think of to say about that, but I wonder how much more I'd have to say if I read through Tasting Beer. So let's do that.

I will probably start slowly reading through it, a section or two a day, and try to apply what I learned to the beer that day. There are certainly not 360 sections of this book, so don't expect me to do that every day (in fact, let's assume that I will put off starting the book until Monday—seriously, I need to finish this book club book), but I bet I could fill at least 150 of these posts with a "what would Mosher say about this" narrative.

NOTES

BEER: Accumulation

GENRE: Belgian IPA

ABV: 6.2%

BREWED BY: New Belgium Brewing Company

LOCATION: Fort Collins, CO

PURCHASED AT: IGA in Port Richmond

PRICE (AT THAT LOCATION): Like $2 including tax, because IGA sells certain beers for $11.29 for a mix six (look for the yellow sticker)

PAIRED WITH: Lidl pizza (check out Lidl if you haven't already, it's cheaper than Aldi!!!)

GRADE: 4.5 pukes out of 5

Thursday, January 2, 2020

Being Right


"The greatest works of moral philosophy are emotional. They make an argument about how the world is and ought to be. There is a great mind at work in here. But where is the heart? Where are the guts?"

One of my pet peeves is the clusterfuck that humans create with double-sided doors. Being a fat fuck, I often find myself at the Wawa at 17th and Arch, which has two sets of double-sided doors next to each other, exponentially squaring the logjam. The rule of thumb should be that you stay to your right, both entering and exiting. Instead, people dash out whatever door is already open, even if someone is waiting on the other side of it, and people stand right in front of doors so they can walk out the opposite door that is being opened by someone coming in while they are going out. Human tendency to be inefficient is a constant minor frustration for me.

One morning a few weeks ago, I was on my way to grab a nutritious Sizzli breakfast. I entered into the foyer through the first set of double doors, staying to the right. At the second set of doors, a large old lady was ambling around in front of the door, ready to exit to her left (my right still). I slid to my left, and used that door, instead of waiting for her to do whatever she was going to do with the (wrong) door.

As I entered the Wawa proper, I heard a grumble from behind me: "Didn't even hold the door for me!" My temper immediately flared. "I could've held the other door for you, ma'am! I'm sorry I didn't hold the correct door for you!" And I stomped off toward the Sizzli rack.

Here's a fact: I was technically right, and she was technically wrong. She was exiting to her left, which created a logjam, one that I had to maneuver around.

Here's a fact: I could've just held the door open for her.

What I've been coming to terms with recently, through some pretty eye-opening self-reflection, is that "being right" is not the most important thing in the world. I have no idea if this is something that other people will sarcastically slap their foreheads over and say "well duh!" about, but I have a pathological need to be right. Those whom I can prove factually wrong are dismissed, are ridiculed, are met with verbal aggression. The world contains certain unalienable truths, and anyone who ignores or betrays these truths should lose their right to a say in the matter.

This is how I act, typically. Maybe not always as outwardly aggressive as I was against the left-door-user at Wawa, but definitely enough that I'm playing hypothetical arguments in my head as I sit in the middle room at two in the morning feeding a baby. Enough that I'm constantly depressed and distraught about how filled the world is with those whom I perceive as "idiots."

A subject that I've written on this blog about before is how my grandmother uses her Facebook page as a free-for-all conservative propaganda meme playground. Lots of it is wrong on a factual level, and the opinions expressed are formed from biased reporting and ignorant assumptions. She is wrong, in other words. Provably wrong.

And of course, I say so sometimes. I present data. I link to sources. I tear my hair out, to little response. In the past, I've used the excuse of: "My loving Mom Mom is expressing hateful rhetoric, and I can't square it, and it hurts me." I wanted to believe that excuse so bad that I really started to believe it. But here's what's actually happening: I just want to show that I am RIGHT.

I express my desire to be right. I know I am right, and she is wrong, and I want her to know it. Any backwoods trump jockey could pull the wool away from their eyes and see that I am right.

It never, ever makes me feel good. I write a screed, pinpointing exactly why I am right, and it makes me feel like SHIT. I feel like a shitty person all day. Even so, even after acknowledging many times that writing on my Mom Mom's Facebook wall never, ever makes me feel even an ounce of happiness, I still continue to visit her Facebook and look for conservative memes and write exactly why I think they are wrong, and then feel like complete and utter shit all day, all over again. This is an addiction. An addiction to being right.

What I am saying now is that I have come to recently understand the heart of the matter. Sometimes, when I am right, I can still be an asshole. Again—I don't know if this is totally old news to the people I surround myself with, maybe they've known I'm an asshole all along, but this is a new self-analysis for me. I am an asshole. When given the choice between proving that I'm right, and holding the goddamn door for a stranger, I tend to choose the former.

This realization is scary. I don't like it. I want to change.

For book club this month, we are reading recent Pulitzer Prize winner The Overstory. I'm not finished reading (I still have nine days, don't rush me!), but a quote from early on seems to be giving me a torchlight in the darkness here:

"There is no knowing for a fact. The only dependable things are humility and looking."

This quote has been burned into my brain recently, as I start to see what a shitty person I am. It seems to argue against the idea of thinking "I'm right," and more being a proponent of searching for more information, and searching for inter-personal understand. Making this quote a personal maxim would probably go a long way in improving how I feel inside, and how other people feel about me.

Strangers may be by and large inefficient in social understandings, but I need to help 'em out anyway. Hold the door for a goddamn stranger. Hold the wrong door for a stranger; it'll make me feel good regardless.

My grandmother has been bamboozled by the conservative media machine. So fucking what? She's still my grandmother. Why spend time making both her and me feel shitty? How about I try to reach out to her personally? Try to understand where she is coming from? She's not right, but she's a human being with feelings and thoughts. I need to be more humble in the face of my elders. I need to keep looking for a connection.

Just writing this blog post doesn't solve the fucking problem, I know that. I'm just writing it to make sure that you and I both know that I am aware of the problem's existence. I fucking want to be better.

This Is My Blood: Rustique


There's a theory in TV sitcom writing that the second episode should underline what the pilot already stated. This is supposedly for people who missed the pilot but can't be bothered enough to go back and watch it. Do these people exist? I don't know. Did you read yesterday's introductory This Is My Blood column? No? Okay then, let's restate the purpose by giving some clarifications.

I will be drinking one beer a day. Each beer will be different. I will post on the blog about my experience with that beer, mainly regarding its taste, and my journey in understanding how to "taste" beer... but let's get real, that's gonna get boring in a month or two. For now, though, that's where we stand.

Will I drink exactly one beer every single day? No, there will be days when I supplement with more beers, because I can't go an entire year without feeling that sweet warm haze of tipsiness. But I'll be averaging 1.5 beers a day total, so I expect to be sober a lot more often than usual.

Will I only be drinking beer? I think I can safely say the majority of the "today's alcohol" choices will be beer, but expect some wine and liquor and wacky fruity beverages to make appearances when I feel like it.

Will it seriously be a different drink every day? Yes, but some qualifications are needed, since people tend to think my life's refrain of "NO REPEATS" is humorous, and would love to call me out on it when I inevitably fuck up. Every featured drink will be different, but there will be days, after a drink is featured, when I drink it again, in addition to that day's featured drinking. Example: on February 10th, I decide to expound on the wonderful elixir of Hamm's Special Light; on March 10th, I discuss a rare craft brew, but then drink two more Hamm's at El Bar with an old friend. I'm not going to be blogging about Hamm's again on March 10th. I'll be blogging about the craft beer I had that day. It's not okay to repeat featured beers, but it's okay to repeat anything else that I'm drinking.

Another clarification needed is: What is considered an "alcoholic serving"? 12 ounces of Hamm's Special Light is a lot less alcohol than 16 ounces of Mad Elf, right? So let's just say this: 12 to 16 ounces of any beer will be considered one serving. I have to drink at least 6 to 8 ounces of a beer for it to be that day's "featured beer," (i.e. if I'm splitting a beer with Pam), but if I choose the minimum, that will only count toward 1/2 a serving in my year's 550 total. No one but me cares about this paragraph's nuances, because I'm the alcoholic here, not you.

It should be clear to you by now that I'm just more comfortable speaking in meta terms, and I'm probably avoiding the subject that I actually came here to speak on. It's tough to learn a new skill (beer tasting), and it's even harder to write about something you are not skillful at. Once again, I will do my best, and I promise, tomorrow we will start taking the "beer tasting" part seriously. I'll tell you all about the book that I have, called Tasting Beer, that will be our bible.

For now, let's talk about Rustique, today's beer. The beer was part of the "fridge series," i.e. it was in my refrigerator. Rustique is brewed by Henniker Brewing Co. in New Hampshire. Pammy—a.k.a. Santa Claus—picked it out at a suburban bottle shop because it looked good. We drank some over dinner and decided whether that was true.

The first thing I noticed was that it smelled of banana. The crazy part is, I don't think there's any banana flavoring in this. I don't know why I always smell banana when fruit has anything to do with it; put that on the shelf for later inquisition. Pam said that she smelled citrus, which was probably more on the money.

When you first sip it, Rustique is mellow, but then it has a bitter aftertaste. The can says "clean, refreshing," and I think that's the bitterness they are talking about—anything that isn't sweet or dessert-like is "clean." I dunno, this is still all conjecture.

Something that struck me is that, on the can, this is advertised as a "Hoppy Farmhouse Ale." I don't think that's actually a beer genre? According to the internet, this is actually a "Belgian Saison." We will definitely dig into this dissonance later on, but suffice it to say now that I get it. It's marketing. Henniker is cosmeticizing what could be consider a "snooty foreign" Belgian beer and billing it as a "good ol' country farm family recipe" type beer. Shit works—I could definitely see myself kicking back on a back porch somewhere, sipping a Rustique.

See you tomorrow, when we actually get serious about figuring out this whole tasting thing.

Notes

BEER: Rustique

GENRE: Belgian Saison

ABV: 6.5%

BREWED BY: Henniker Brewing Co.

LOCATION: Henniker, NH

PURCHASED AT: The Iron Abbey in Horsham, PA

PRICE (AT THAT LOCATION): It was a gift

PAIRED WITH: Spaghetti squash and edamame

GRADE: 3 pukes out of 5

Wednesday, January 1, 2020

2020's New Year's Resolutions

The perennial fight to follow through on New Year's Resolutions 

Another year, another rush of excitement of the potential of that year, and another year of being overly motivated on January 1st.

I often write on PoYB about my resolutions around this time of year, and it's always so painful to go back, a year later, and read about everything that I failed to do. So first, let's do some copying and pasting from last year and see where I succeeded and failed in 2019:
  • I want to see a "1" in the hundreds column on the scale. FAILURE. I am still fat. But I have new ambitions and new diet plans for 2020. I doubt I'll ever reach 199.9 lbs, but I do think it's possible to, at some point this year, maybe feel good about myself.
  • I want to journal every day. SUCCESS. Sometimes I felt really stupid about writing about a certain day if that particular day was boring/uneventful, and sometimes I had too much fun and had to write multiple journal entries at a time to catch up, but I did indeed write a journal entry for every day of 2019. Like I said when I originally posted that this was my plan—be thankful that you don't have to read this dreck on Puke on Your Birthday. I'll keep it private (though I did use it for help in creating yesterday's post).
  • I also want to make an honest effort to live my life every day as if it were worth writing about. DEBATABLE. You saw yesterday a list of the most "memorable" things that happened every day last year. I mean, look at some of those entries; some of them positively scream "This was a boring day." I can't say that I made an honest effort to live life to the fullest each day, even if most days ended up being full anyway. That's life.
  • I want to make an honest effort to explore different music genres. SUCCESS. I listened to the vast majority of Stereogum's Heavy Rotation albums in full last year, even when it was a genre that I knew I wouldn't like (ambient music is so painful, you guys). I enjoyed a lot more rap than I have in the past, so there's that.
  • I want to read a chapter of War and Peace every day of 2019, and follow along at r/ayearofwarandpeace. FAILURE. Hahahah nah man. Even with the help on reddit, this book still sucked ass.
  • I want the book club to go well. SUCCESS! The Boys/Beers/Breakfast/Book Club is quarterly, and indeed we had four great meetings this year to discuss four books of varying qualities (and yes, drink beers and eat breakfast). Book Club Meeting #5 in a couple weeks!
  • I want to complete, or at least work on, at least one additional goal on my Bucket List. DEBATABLE. I dunno. I had a few more cheesesteaks, I played a few more drinking games, and I watched a few more movies (though, honestly, not as many AFI Top 100 movies throughout the Your Favorite Movie series as I would've guessed). But I started the book club, so that's one thing completely checked off the list. And 2020 holds some promise with a few more of these (Pam has to SWEAR to me that we're doing ShrimpFest in 2020).
Alright, hey, that actually wasn't that bad of a year. Better than previous years, anyway, as far as resolutions go.

And so, we start another year. 2020. Another year full of promise and hope. Here is what I plan on doing and achieving this year.
  • I want to blog every single day. I cannot promise that all that content is going to be worth reading, but writing a post every day seems at least attainable if my job situation stays the way it is.
  • I want to drink a different beer (or whatever) every day the entire year. I am writing way more about this in a separate blog post that will eventually be retroactively posted chronologically before this post you are now reading. So look out for that one.
  • But also I want to not drink more than 550 servings of alcohol. And yeah, here's the rub. I need to cut down on my alcohol. How this relates to the drinking-every-day plan, you'll again have to read that other blog post that I will have up by the end of the day.
  • I want to do enough exercise to negate the beer that I am drinking. Even if I am planning on drinking less, it would be nice if I could exercise and not worry about the (fewer) beers that I am drinking.
  • I want to review a TV show episodically. I have been reading AVClub's TV reviews for as long as I can remember, and I want to finally give it a shot. I have no idea what show I'll be reviewing (probably something with a season length that's on the shorter side), and it's going to be real bad yo, but let's try it.
  • I want to do a couple other new blog things. Specifically, I want to create a radio show, and I want to write an oral history. But you'll read a lot more about these ideas when (if) they come to fruition.
  • I want to make an honest attempt to be humble on social media (mostly regarding politics). I'm posting more about this tomorrow, but my psyche can't really take much more self-torment when I see my loved ones sharing shitty things online. I always regret my reaction, and I need to try to discover if I have the ability to change by being more humble and trying to connect to my loved ones more. So let's try to do that.
  • I want to make my own alcohol. It'll probably end up being mulled wine because that seems to be the easiest to make. Yes, that will count as my Alcohol of the Day. Yes, that'll knock a bucket list item off. Yes, it'll taste fucking bad. But I've always wanted to do it, and 2020 seems ripe for the taking.
That all seems pretty reasonable. I hope it goes without saying that this is all on top of the familial duties of being a good husband and dad, and continuing to earn a paycheck for them, and all that good shit. 

So let's get started. It's gonna be a good fucking year.

This Is My Blood: Mainstay Poplar Pils


I don't think I really need to tell you, dear reader, how much I like drinking beer. The subject has been covered exhaustively here on my blog for years. There was the teenage revelry, of course, but also more recently a certain pushback against constant bacchanalia. You know me. You know I love beer, and you know full well all the consequences that come along with such a love—physically, emotionally, socially.

And so, here we are at the start of a new year, and I embark on a mission that may seem suspiciously suicidal without further explanation. Please allow me to over-explain.

Every day for the next 366 days (2020 is a leap year), I will drink a different beer. And every day for the next 366 days, I will write about that beer in some way, shape, or form, right here on the blog.

My goals for this project are two-fold, and appear at first glance to be at odds with each other:

1) I want to learn to appreciate and understand beer in a finer sense—finer, at least, than I have in the past, which involved lots of cheap beer guzzled as quickly as possible. There's lots to learn about beer—why does a certain genre taste a certain way, or why do beers from specific regions have a certain flavor, or what separates a stout from porter, etc.—and I want to know it all. I want to experience it all. I will spend the next 366 days boning up on the subject, because as it stands now, I really don't know shit about a drink that I spend so much time around.

2) I want to drink less. This goal is a considerably harder sell: "How the fuck do you expect to drink less by making a commitment to drinking every day?!" To which I respond: "Fair point." But I'm looking at it this way. I'm committing to drink one single beer, and savoring that one beer, instead of drinking multiple beers, so if that pattern continues through the year, I should actually be able to cut my beer consumption levels to about 1/3rd of my usual rate.

This is what I'm calling a "chemotherapy" approach to solving my alcoholism. Just like chemo blasts those toxic cancer cells with other, different toxins, so too will I be trying to destroy my alcoholism with other, different alcohol. This is not a proven method, but I'm going to give it a try, and see what happens.

(And just like chemo is usually combined with surgery, I am also setting a hard year-long limit for how much alcohol I consume. 550 servings through the year, including the 366 for this project, is my goal. This averages out to about 1.5 servings per day, which means if I play my cards right, I can still let a little loose during the odd bachelor party or wedding reception or even the rare party without kids. Seeing as I'm in sniffing distance of 1500 alcoholic servings for 2019, 550 is a big cut. But this is all only tangential to the This Is My Blood project.)

So anyway, let's see what happens. I'll be writing a blog post for every day's beer adventure here on the blog (they will be retroactively posted on the day that I drank the beer, even if I do the actual writing days later). I don't know what this project will become, over time. It's possible that it could become a tasting guide to different beers, a travelogue of the shit I did to discover and enjoy the beer, or a creative-writing exercise... probably all three, at certain points (probably not a Joe's New Summer Redux, but maybe sometimes!). If you know me because you know Puke on Your Birthday, then you already know what kind of nonsense is going to be scribbled on these 366 posts.

For the beginning, at least, I'm gonna start out just getting my feet wet and writing about the beers themselves, and we'll see where it goes from there. I have a Beer Tasting book that I'll write about soon, but just know for now that I am not going into this thing blind. I want to gain knowledge—it's that old Cliff Clavin theory that you kill brain cells with beer, and replace 'em with even smarter brain cells.

All of this brings us to today's beer, the inaugural 2020 beverage. I wanted to pick something called "New Year's Ale" or some shit like that, but sometimes life is going to dictate what I'm drinking, and today, life dictated that I end up at Craft Hall, a beer hall that houses Mainstay Independent Brewing Company. If you haven't been there, picture dozens of kids crawling all over a big indoor playground while haggard parents with bloodshot eyes drink overpriced beers at the high-tops on the perimeter. I will have much more to say about Craft Hall when I'm not trying to finish this introductory beer-a-day blog post by sticking to the script.

The script, it seems, calls for me to describe how the Poplar Pils beer tasted. If you think about it, this is a lot more difficult than it sounds—hence the desire to get better at it. If I were to blindly describe how this beer "tastes," then I would probably say something like: It was bitter, which is a good thing. It was a little flatter than I would prefer? I don't know why it was bitter or slightly flat; there is more to learn.

One should also consider that the description on the can might deceive one to taste things that aren't necessarily there. It is called "Poplar Pils," and after holding a sip in my mouth for a few seconds, I think I could taste some wintery, tree-like flavors. The can also said "bracing hop-forwardness," which, yeah, I could taste what I would call "hops." Was my perception skewed? Maybe; there is more to learn.

Before we get too far in the weeds with the more "creative" aspects of this blog series, I'm probably going focus a good deal on understanding taste. What do I taste in this sip of beer, and why do I taste it? So I suppose this could make for some monotonous reading in the next month or two. It'll get better... maybe. No promises. Thanks for coming along for the ride.

Notes

BEER: Poplar Pils

GENRE: Pilsner

ABV: 5.0%

BREWED BY: Mainstay Independent Brewing Company

LOCATION: Philadelphia, PA

PURCHASED AT: Craft Hall (on-site)

PRICE (AT THAT LOCATION): Advertised as $7 for a pounder, but including tax it was $8, and including tax and tip it was $9 (FUCK)

PAIRED WITH: An insane Willow K*** going down the slide over and over and over

GRADE: 2 pukes out of 5 (These grades will be so arbitrary that it'll hurt. I'll just be going with my gut feeling. So, like, just get ready for Hamm's Premium to get 5 pukes out of 5 eventually, okay?)