The first thing you should know is that last week’s pod hiatus was very much unplanned. I blame an immune system that’s suddenly buggier than Saul Berenson’s house: Rather than chatting about Peter Quinn shooting Carrie Mathison, I was chugging shots of Theraflu. The second thing you should know is that once we were reconnected and back on the mikes, Chris and I were catching fire: He was turnt up about the new Hunger Games movie while I was merely turned around by the increasingly sloppy insanity of the once-great Homeland.
We also found time to discuss the revitalized Boardwalk Empire, which led me to wonder: Are certain things just easier to stomach in books than onscreen? I’ve been trying to get Chris into Mediterranean Noir for a while now, particularly the Marseilles novels of Jean-Claude Izzo. But a recent deep dive into the extremely depraved work of Massimo Carlotto had me wondering about the difference between shock and satire, or between the type of mega-violence that causes you to cover your eyes and the kind that has you peeking through your fingers.
We ended, as we often do, by talking about Kanye. The Yeezus tour ended this week and, with the preposterous “Bound 2” video, so, too, did Mr. West’s streak of not-terrible art. Thankfully Seth Rogen and James Franco — a man who is having quite a 2013 — are here to steer us through the pain and confusion and into sweet, shirtless bliss. I’m tired, you’re tired. Yeezus wept.
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