Let's unwind the grind of reality with Pick 154: Eyes Cry and Streets Run Slick Flick Pick: Pregnicant--Born Special K; God Complexity (City of Altered, Artificial Angels); (Crawling Out of Their Skin Job); (Tree Root of the Mystery); (Luv Deals all Wounds); (Blade Runner 2049, 2017).

Today, we discuss--the likelihood that K is really special K as he seems to have strong bones, bluer than blue eyes and all of the ladies who watch this futuristic flick, he'll hypnotize or otherwise mesmerize while we all, about what really became of that replicant mother of a missing child, theorize, a visual reminder that Harrison Ford is the fucking man whether backin 1982 or in 2017, he is tough, taciturn and he is lean, and while there is nudity in this flick, it never segues into the obscene, but we know that when Wallace cuts open that replicant failure, she loses, at least, her spleen, how much more impressive the Vegas Fallout visuals were compared to the rain-drenched L.A.

Why Robin Wright is so good at playing androgynous and soulless characters, how much Ana De Armas's voice annoys the ever replicating fuck out of regardless of whether she is human or A.I, how much more Lennie James we demand, how K wears on his face that he is a part of a world and a bigger picture that he is too robotic to understand, the evidence is apparent that Deckard's dog is the real motherfucking deal and how easy it would be to new memories make and old memories swipe, alter or steal.

-Your worthwhile cinephile: I may not be a replicant but I do know how to podcast, how to perform and how to for greater humanity FUCKING RANT: Falsetto Prophet!

P.S. (Procrastinated Statement) *Intro/outro song, Soulicious, courtesy of the artist, Dyalla.

Enter, with us, you cinematic fanatics, into the realm of film's fantasy as we unwind the grind of reality.

We offer you: Pick 146: Slick Flick Pick: F.T.S.D (Future Traumatic Stress Disorder) Laying Pipe Bombs; (Nike Shoes and Apocalyptic Blues; (Biting the Hand that Saves--To StayAlive, Remain Unlisted); Frizzy Hair and a Glowing Red Glare); (The Terminator, 1984)

Today, we discuss--the merits to how Arnold makes as good as a villain as he does a protector, another chapter in the annals of Michael Biehn fucking badassery, whether from this or Aliens, The Abyss, Tombstone or the Rock, he is the motherfucker you want watching your six, how remaining unlisted in the phone book can prove a life savingtechnique, the unsung career of Linda Hamilton and the regret I feel in understating her attractiveness when I first saw this flick, the welcome reminder that Bill Paxton has been in this, aliens and Predator 2.

Why Dr. Silberman was already such an unlikable son of a bitch prick, all the ways that red eyes are scarier than we might have realized, how unlike in most slasher flicks, this gal not only heads to a public place but continually calls the cops until she is satisfied with their advice, how different the present and future would have been had Kyle been sterile or they used a diaphragm, Biehn makes up in sheer brawn with elusiveness, scrappiness, speed and an intense fucking presence, and while it is so very quickly shot and moved along past as we have a story to tell, Sarah's mother is dead as fucking fried chicken and the terminator is to blame, or is it technology, or is it genetics, either way, there will be hell to pay as Sarah desperately works to sidestep judgement fucking day!

-Your worthwhile cinephile: Falsetto Prophet

P.S. (Procrastinated Statement)*Intro/outro song, Soulicious,

courtesy of the artist, Dyalla.

Greetings Faux Poets and those intimate with bayou voodoo magic!

Today, the treasured Poetry Sha-Wee and I wax poetic about our mutual medical struggles and successes, finding amusement in the most mundane or pursuits and veritable variety of conversational chasms we did not even anticipate.

-Your worthwhile cinephile: Falsetto Prophet and the writer/poet/photograher and surviver: Poetry Sha-Wee.

P.S. (ProcrastinatedStatement)*Intro/outro song, All I Am, courtesy of the artist, Dyalla.

Greetings Podience,

Faux Sis-in-Law Mandy and I discuss the trials, treasures and tribulations of life, how to be a healer, a mother and wife. Also, we scratch the surface on the mystery surrounding holes found in her shoes at the tops of the shoes, and as I once lived in the Lone Star State, my lack of HEB blues.

-Your podcaster who can circumnavigate conversational disaster: Falsetto Prophet, and a very special session with the healer and the straight dealer: Mandy.

P.S. (Procrastinated Statement) *Intro/outro song, Soulicious, courtesy of the artist, Dyalla.

Greetings Cinematic Fanatics,

Brother Shawshank and I discuss the intricacies that lie within and the redemptive revelations that come in crawling through foulness and being baptized in toxic water. Brooks was here and, if you are at peace with yourself, you have little to fear.

The Shawshank Redemption is the greatest Stephen King adaptation that has ever been made, in film form. I think we will make our case for this assertion and we got busy podcasting instead of...dying.

-Your worthwhile cinephile: Falsetto Prophet and Brother Shawshank who is an authority on this cinematic testimony as he studied it in film class.

P.S. (Procrastinated Statement) *Intro/outro song, Soulicious, courtesy of the artist, Dyalla.

Greetings Cinematic Fanatics,

THERE IS AN ANOMALY IN THE GREEN SHEENED CITY!

When you open your blind eyes, what do you see? A leather clad savior both dark haired, blue-eyed, and moderately pretty? Did they swallow the pill to save just themselves, or the whole of the Aussie unnamed city?

Today, the Poetletariat and I discuss and dissect the merits of this end of the millennium flick, where Keanu's hair is so fucking perfect he don't even need a product to bog it down in slick.

-Your worthwhile cinephile: Falsetto Prophet and she who loves an artsy film almost as much as a well-weathered record: Poetletariat.

P.S. (Procrastinated Statement)

*Intro/outro song, Soulicious, courtesy of the artist, Dyalla.

Greetings Cinematic Fanatics,

Today, the one and only unfanged Vampiress and I discuss one of her wicked and wild favorite movies from the last handful of years.

Make sure to order a side of garlicky Vampire killer wings, and avoid all of the dilapidated deep south churches and all pacts with demonic visitor type things.

-Your worthwhile cinephile: Falsetto Prophet and Vampiress Maria!

P.S. (Procrastinated Statement)

*Intro/outro song, Soulicious, courtesy of the artist, Dyalla.

Greetings Cinematic Fanatics,

Special agent Utah and I talk about a film that does contain moments of 100% per adrenaline, but also deepens a relationship between two men who are actually brothers, unlike Johnny Utah and Bodhi who are more like masculine lovers.

Is it the acting, the powerful gravelly voice of Nick the fatherly prick, or is it Ms. Morrison who looks like she knows her way around a pogo stick that makes this a memorable ass slick flick pick?

-Your worthwhile cinephile: Falsetto Prophet and special agent Utah who is not a fighter, but looks like he could rip the head off of one!

P.S. (Procrastinated Statement) *Intro/outro song, Soulicious, courtesy of the artist, Dyalla.