Dispatch Ajax! Podcast

In a sad reflection of an episode we speak - off the cuff - about the loss of both Walter Koenig and Sir Patrick Stewart. Two losses in the Star Trek universe of icons that helped shape how we learned to think about the future. 

 We start with Chekhov, how he arrives on the Enterprise as a “youth appeal” swing that somehow becomes a surprisingly sharp Cold War statement, then trace why Koenig’s presence feels permanent across The Original Series, the films, and even modern Trek.

From there we get personal about fandom: conventions, fan films, and the rare performers who genuinely seem happy to meet the people who kept the lights on. Koenig’s turn as Bester on Babylon 5 comes up for a reason, because it shows how much range he had when he played against type, turning familiar goodwill into tension and menace with a smile. It’s also a reminder that sci-fi careers don’t end when a franchise ends, they echo.

Then we shift to Sir Patrick Stewart, from Shakespeare and the Royal Shakespeare Company to the role of Jean-Luc Picard, and why Picard still defines a certain kind of leadership in science fiction. We talk Professor X, the gravity he brings to every scene, and the quieter choices that make him scary-good in roles like Green Room. We also spend time on Stewart’s advocacy, empathy, and how personal history can shape what an actor chooses to put on screen.

If these performances mattered to you too, come listen, share it with a friend who grew up on Trek, and leave us a review so more fans can find the show. What’s the one Chekhov or Picard moment you’ll never forget?

For the conclusion to our annual Halloween series we lean into a modern dread and treat it like a horror creature: the Screen Zombie, a modern twist on the undead where the “bite” is a signal, a feed, a notification loop, or a broadcast that strips away empathy and agency until people move like automatons.

We start with a philosophical gut-check from Descartes: how would you spot a mind versus a machine? Then we drag that question into 2026 reality, where smartphones, social media algorithms, bot-filled platforms, and always-on content can hollow out connection. We talk about the civility paradox, why online interaction can intensify hostility, and how heavy screen time ties into sleep disruption, dopamine loops, and teen mental health concerns. From there we connect loneliness and screen-only community to conspiracy ecosystems like QAnon, where an internet-shaped reality can become more powerful than the one outside your door.

Then we get nerdy and cinematic. We trace zombie symbolism from Haitian folklore through Romero’s consumer critique, and we map the newer “signal-driven” subgenre with Pulse (Cairo), The Signal, Antisocial, and the clearest archetype we’ve found: Stephen King’s Cell. We also hit adjacent picks like DCeased and Await Further Instructions, plus other technozombie cousins that circle the same fear.

If the screen zombie metaphor works, it’s because it doesn’t just scare us, it dares us to look up. Subscribe, share this with a friend who can’t stop scrolling, and leave a review so more people can find Dispatch Ajax.

This week we continue our Halloween celebration with a Horror legend! Wes Craven’s name gets tossed around in the background, but we wanted to actually put him in perspective. We stack him up against the heaviest hitters, argue through the horror director Mount Rushmore debate, and explain why Craven isn’t just a legend, he’s a repeat offender at reinventing the slasher genre.

We walk from the brutal early impact of The Last House on the Left to the scorched, survivalist nightmare of The Hills Have Eyes, then pull the thread that ties so much of his work together: families that fail, authority that can’t be trusted, and characters forced to build something new out of the wreckage. From there we hit A Nightmare on Elm Street and Craven’s “rubber reality,” where dream logic bleeds into the real world and Freddy Krueger becomes a different kind of monster than the usual mask-and-knife crowd.

Then we go beyond the obvious. We spotlight The Serpent and the Rainbow for its hallucinatory voodoo dread and corporate exploitation, The People Under the Stairs for its nasty, still-relevant social horror, and Red Eye for proof Craven can deliver a lean, Hitchcockian thriller when he wants to stay grounded. If you love horror movies, Wes Craven films, and the history of slashers, this is a watchlist and a roadmap in one.

If you like what you hear, subscribe, share the episode with a fellow horror fan, and leave us a five-star review so more people can find the show.

We’re in Spooktober mode, and we’re planting our flag. For our continuing October Halloween exploration we bring you an often overlooked Horror movie series: Warlock. It's one of those franchises we keep waiting for people to rediscover, because the first film has everything genre fans claim they want: a confident supernatural villain, strange old-world witchcraft rules, and a time-travel chase that never stops pushing forward. Julian Sands brings a “posh evil” presence that feels genuinely dangerous, sexy, and unpredictable, the kind of performance that should have made him a bigger horror household name.

We dig into what makes Warlock feel different from the slasher giants and even from its supernatural peers. The magic has texture: pennies in mouths, toes bound to thumbs, cold iron, nails in footprints, boiled fat for flight, and a Grand Grimoire that can literally unmake creation if the Warlock speaks the name of God backwards. Along the way, we talk about the film’s underappreciated craft, its VHS-fueled cult life, and how studio chaos and release timing helped keep it from getting the recognition it deserved.

Then we take the full franchise tour. Warlock 2 The Armageddon goes bigger, louder, and more 90s, with druid stones, eclipse stakes, and set pieces that flirt with comic book logic before that became the norm. Warlock 3 The End of Innocence, though, is where we draw a hard line, and yes, we explain why. We also hit the spin-off legacy, including a novelization, comics, and the 90s video game, plus a sober note on real-world media panic and why blaming horror movies is a shortcut.

If you enjoy smart horror deep dives and cult franchise autopsies, subscribe, share the show with a fellow monster nerd, and leave us a review. What’s your Warlock ranking: 1, 2, or refuse to acknowledge 3?

In this classic Halloween episode we look back upon a near-forgotten Horror anthology TV series - Tales from the Darkside. We trace how Creepshow and the EC Comics tradition (Tales from the Crypt, Vault of Horror) set the blueprint, then get into the messy rights reality that forced Romero’s team to build something adjacent rather than literal. From there, we spotlight the October 1983 premiere “Trick or Treat,” a nasty little morality play about debt, greed, and a Halloween-night reckoning that feels like the purest form of anthology justice.

Then we jump into one of the most fun conversations of the night: “Inside the Closet,” directed by Tom Savini, complete with our beat-by-beat reaction to the tension, the synthy creep factor, and the moment the “closet monster” earns a nickname and an unexpected kind of charm. We also nerd out over how stacked the bench is, from major horror authors and short-story adaptations to an absurdly deep guest star list that makes the show feel like a secret casting time capsule.

In a scattered discussion, we break down the cult vampire film Sundown: The Vampire in Retreat. We talk through the movie’s best hook: a hidden vampire community that’s trying to go legit with sunscreen, public-facing small-town life, and a factory producing a synthetic blood substitute so vampires can stop feeding on humans. From there, the story splinters into factions and a quiet coup against David Carradine’s Mardulak, a human family dragged into vampire politics, and a rival vampire’s nasty, sexually charged scheme that drives the ugliest tension in the plot. Along the way, we call out the moments that feel weirdly ahead of their time, especially if you like True Blood style vampire society storytelling.

Star Trek turns 60 and somehow the big story is this: the pipeline is drying up, the creative direction feels scattered, and the one show still on the air is starting to lose us. We talk through Strange New Worlds season four and why the constant genre tribute approach starts to feel like “holodeck episodes all season” with none of the payoff. When every week becomes a parody or a pastiche, the ship stops feeling real, character choices stop carrying weight, and we catch ourselves checking out instead of leaning in.

We also get specific about what works and what does not. A musical can land when the format reveals character and the plot uses Star Trek logic to justify the weirdness. But when an episode is “just Buffy” or “just a soap opera” or “just Crimson Tide in space,” it can feel like modern TV is regurgitating familiar IP instead of taking a real swing at something new. That frustration becomes a bigger conversation about Hollywood’s dependence on recognizable templates and why audiences can sense desperation even when the production values look great.

Then we zoom out to the franchise level: our breakdown of modern Trek as a post-2009 phase shaped by Abrams-era storytelling and the Kurtzman production machine, the way streaming exclusivity narrows who actually shows up, and the corporate chaos at Paramount that keeps killing movies before they happen. We end with the uncomfortable question we cannot avoid: would a real pause help Star Trek come back with a clear vision, or is this the slow fade?

Subscribe, share the episode with a Trek friend, and leave us a review on Apple Podcasts. What genre stunt finally made you tap out, and what would you want a true Star Trek reset to look like?

In the classic monologue we go into some of the details we didin't get to in our previous NüTrek breakdowns. We jump back into the debate around Star Trek: Discovery and the bigger question behind every prequel choice, where does “updating the franchise” end and where does breaking continuity begin? When a show introduces capabilities that feel too advanced for its place on the timeline, it does not just create trivia errors, it can erase the exact constraints that later episodes rely on for tension, mystery, and character problem-solving.

We dig into a deceptively small detail with huge ripple effects: the Delta insignia. In The Original Series, ship badges are not one-size-fits-all, and the Delta is tightly linked to the USS Enterprise before it becomes a broader Starfleet symbol later on. So why does it show up in places it arguably should not, including modern prequel-era storytelling and even Kelvin-era design choices? We walk through the fan logic, the timeline-split hand waves, and the uncomfortable moments where the “easy” explanations start to feel like patch jobs rather than worldbuilding.

In another installment of our series celebrating Star Trek's 60th anniversary we bring you a classic episode breaking down the fanchises' 4th wave. We spend real time on the infamous spore drive, the way instant travel wrecks stakes, and how Discovery ends up writing itself into a corner that later Trek has to tiptoe around. From there we jump to the Dilithium Burn and the far-future setting, asking basic worldbuilding questions the show never answers cleanly, like how the Romulans fit into a galaxy where dilithium suddenly becomes the only thing that matters. Along the way, we talk lost eras, canon gaps, showrunner chaos, and why a procedural, competence-driven Trek structure is still the franchise’s secret weapon.

Then we get to the Section 31 streaming film: a “redemption” pitch wrapped around Space Vegas vibes, a planet-killer box, and a crew that feels assembled for a series bible instead of a coherent movie. We’re blunt about what doesn’t work, but we also point to why Strange New Worlds proves there’s still a path forward if the writing honors consequences and lets characters earn their turns.

In our ongoing celebration of Star Trek's 60th anniversary we revisit our commentary on Trek's 4th wave (as of last year). We dig into the real-world mechanics behind the J.J. Abrams era: studio splits, blockbuster incentives, and the creative team that helped steer the franchise toward speed, spectacle, and recognizable references. Then we get specific. We break down Star Trek 2009’s strongest moves and its most telling shortcuts, from technobabble that stops meaning anything to plot coincidences that feel like the script is shoving characters into place. Along the way, we unpack Romulan and Vulcan history, the Hobus supernova, Red Matter, and how the wormhole incident creates the Kelvin universe while leaving Prime continuity to pick up the pieces.

From there, we jump to Star Trek: Discovery, where canon placement and the Mirror Universe rules get complicated fast. That sets the stage for Section 31, a concept that could deliver Star Trek’s sharpest political commentary: a Starfleet CIA analog justified by “extraordinary measures” in the name of security. We connect that idea to real intelligence history and ask what happens when a moral problem becomes an aesthetic.