I’ve never really liked zombie movies. I know that’s sacrilege coming from a Pittsburgh native, where George A. Romero’s Night of the Living Dead famously staggered around Evans City Cemetery. But I just never got the appeal of the ravenous undead. Yet, cinematic zombie apocalypses are really the only comparisons I’m finding to describe the … Continue reading
I’d like to begin with a fact. A simple yet shocking fact. It is this—a floodtide of filth is engulfing our country in the form of obscenity and is threatening to pervert an entire generation of our American children! At least that’s what George Putnam said, finger-wagging in his Middle America-terrorizing introduction to the fear-mongering, … Continue reading
Why hello there, proud patriotic Filthy Dreams readers! What’s that? You’re NOT proud at all to be an American this year?! I know, I know. How DARE we even celebrate Independence Day? Look. Given these feel like our country’s last days, we better party now before the Supreme Court makes a decision on that too! … Continue reading
I’m a Joe Rogan listener. Wait! Before you click off and cancel me on various social media platforms (there’ll be time for that, trust me), let me dig the hole deeper. Not only am I a The Joe Rogan Experience (JRE) listener, but I’m also a longtime The Joe Rogan Experience listener. I’ve tuned into … Continue reading
“Watch the wire.” That’s what I was warned as I maneuvered my way around marble-topped tables and White House gewgaws at the new 45 Wine & Whiskey Bar, a Trump-themed Trump bar at Trump Tower on a recent Friday night, trying to reach two plush high-backed dusty magenta chairs that wouldn’t look out of place … Continue reading
America is a series of scams. That’s the only conclusion to come to after watching HBO Max’s documentary Beanie Mania, directed by Yemisi Brookes, which explores the brand of capitalism unique to the United States as filtered through the Beanie Baby frenzy of the late 1990s: get rich quick schemes, exploitation of workers, tax evasion, … Continue reading
A nuclear green alien robot baby with his daddy’s matching lime-green hair. A morph suit dress that resembles a cross between the eponymous character from Alien and Charlie’s Green Man from It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. A Balenciaga sleeping bag that could be mistaken for Mugatu’s Derelicte line from Zoolander. The blanket from Roseanne‘s sofa. … Continue reading
HBO’s documentary Woodstock 99: Peace, Love, and Rage, directed by Garret Price as a part of their Music Box series, seems to pose Woodstock ’99 as a seminal concert shitshow, like 1969’s Altamont, that somehow, in its dissolution into hormone-driven madness, which included chucking $4 water bottles at Wyclef Jean and The Offspring, rolling around … Continue reading
That’s all folks! This is what a disarmingly cheery sign, battered and mangled and a little bit dusty, reads—or approximately reads as it is missing a few pieces that were presumably blasted off—in the exhibition galleries depicting the aftermath of September 11th in the 9/11 Memorial Museum. Placed above a singed file cabinet, melted into … Continue reading
“Topanga’s hot today, Manson’s in the air,” sings Lana Del Rey in the second verse of her song “Heroin” on Lust for Life. And who doesn’t sense Charles Manson, his acid-headed Family, and the echoing terror of the Tate-LaBianca murders in these sweltering and wildfire-choked days of early August? These murders that occurred from August … Continue reading