Sign up to save your podcasts
Or
Share Pick 23: Slick Flick Pick: Futuristically Sadistic--Leave Well Enough a Clone (The Thirteenth Floor, 1999) **With Red Devil's Aural Appearance**
Share to email
Share to Facebook
Share to X
Share to email
Share to Facebook
Share to X
Or
Pick 23: Slick Flick Pick: Futuristically Sadistic--Leave Well Enough a Clone (The Thirteenth Floor, 1999) **With Red Devil's Aural Appearance**
Greetings, Cinematic Fanatics! Allow me the pleasure of ushering you into your own coded, noded, digitally designed and downloaded simulation, programed by my crack team of futuristic architects who designed your carbon copy creation station, and though your creation remains imitation, you'll jack into sensory pleasures that transcend elation. Our protagonist labors the taxing task of playing three fstars roles, the unseen green machine, past the desert rim horizon is, but one, of the simulation's green smokescreen plot holes, what commenced as innocent, godlike games has warped David into a retro killer setting demented goals, but these expendable digital units are devoid of souls, but as you, dear listeners, are warm, present and real we offer you your very own legit shi* simulation of Slick Flick Pick, an entertaining, slick/flick-explaining series, a desirable diversion from the main vein of Chemohawk Sessions. You are our Cinematic Fanatics; Red Devil and I, your worthwhile f****** cinephiles. For your 23rd episode, we review one of our stranger than science, truer than fiction unseeingly green machine, smoke-screened slick flick pleasures; I have reveled in this film since my first youthful, HBO cable viewing; this flick, though no doubt graphically, narratively and cinematically slick, was a mere afterthought lost to the juggernaut that was Mr. Anderson's pill-swallowing, daily-office-grind-wallowing hollow, hologram existence in The Matrix. Jane Fuller's a classy, sightly femme-fatale dame, her Natasha's store clerk-sacker-clone however, is lame, her sick spouse, the cross-platform killer, proves the catalyst for this thriller and for these dead digital bodies, he, is to blame, and, if the uplifting beach-front ending is another programmed sim sham, that's a shame; do our carbon-coded clones bleed different or is our blood the same-- those answers await if give in to the greenlit game located on: The Thirteenth Floor, circa May 1999. In 1937, you are shown colorfully coated noir, but as you stroll the sims, you also see gore; some visit these retroactive worlds when their present proves a bore, but if you still yearn for more, hit that shiny stainless-steel button to the 13th fuc**** floor.
Recline, Cinematic Fanatics, in your favorite well-worn, stale chair, rustle up some popcorn, fresh as fstars, the antithesis to that stale a** chair, we just mentioned, zoom in and zone out as we unwind the daily grind with a slick f****** flick pick. The Thirteenth Floor is the flick, so very slick, hence my fstars pick! When Slick Flick Pick is near, stick around, till, Falsetto Prophet's voice, you hear. Lights... camera...action... lends distraction and, with the right Slick Flick Pick, grants satisfaction. I am your worthwhile cinephile; you're my cinematic fanatics; together, we, excitement unlock and run down the real world's unimaginative fstars clock while feasting our eyes on this slick-flick-pick prize.
Enter, with us, you cinematic fanatics, into the realm of film's fantasy as we unwind the grind into virtual reality… we offer you: Pick 23: Slick Flick Pick: Futuristically Sadistic--Leave Well Enough a Clone (The Thirteenth Floor, 1999). Today, we'll discuss-- the legality of exceeding the speed limit when your classic car is the only one on the road, why their peepers change colors when they're soulless shells are jacked in by a new download, when the units realize the limits of the sim's green guise, they'll implode, was Douglas wearing the bloody shirt or a nefarious node, and, as the outro song suggests…will John David Douglas, erase, rewind or reload?
- Your worthwhile cinephile: Falsetto Prophet & Red Devil
P.S. (Procrastinated Statement) *Intro/outro song, Soulicious, courtesy of the artist, Dyalla.
View all episodes
By Falsetto ProphetGreetings, Cinematic Fanatics! Allow me the pleasure of ushering you into your own coded, noded, digitally designed and downloaded simulation, programed by my crack team of futuristic architects who designed your carbon copy creation station, and though your creation remains imitation, you'll jack into sensory pleasures that transcend elation. Our protagonist labors the taxing task of playing three fstars roles, the unseen green machine, past the desert rim horizon is, but one, of the simulation's green smokescreen plot holes, what commenced as innocent, godlike games has warped David into a retro killer setting demented goals, but these expendable digital units are devoid of souls, but as you, dear listeners, are warm, present and real we offer you your very own legit shi* simulation of Slick Flick Pick, an entertaining, slick/flick-explaining series, a desirable diversion from the main vein of Chemohawk Sessions. You are our Cinematic Fanatics; Red Devil and I, your worthwhile f****** cinephiles. For your 23rd episode, we review one of our stranger than science, truer than fiction unseeingly green machine, smoke-screened slick flick pleasures; I have reveled in this film since my first youthful, HBO cable viewing; this flick, though no doubt graphically, narratively and cinematically slick, was a mere afterthought lost to the juggernaut that was Mr. Anderson's pill-swallowing, daily-office-grind-wallowing hollow, hologram existence in The Matrix. Jane Fuller's a classy, sightly femme-fatale dame, her Natasha's store clerk-sacker-clone however, is lame, her sick spouse, the cross-platform killer, proves the catalyst for this thriller and for these dead digital bodies, he, is to blame, and, if the uplifting beach-front ending is another programmed sim sham, that's a shame; do our carbon-coded clones bleed different or is our blood the same-- those answers await if give in to the greenlit game located on: The Thirteenth Floor, circa May 1999. In 1937, you are shown colorfully coated noir, but as you stroll the sims, you also see gore; some visit these retroactive worlds when their present proves a bore, but if you still yearn for more, hit that shiny stainless-steel button to the 13th fuc**** floor.
Recline, Cinematic Fanatics, in your favorite well-worn, stale chair, rustle up some popcorn, fresh as fstars, the antithesis to that stale a** chair, we just mentioned, zoom in and zone out as we unwind the daily grind with a slick f****** flick pick. The Thirteenth Floor is the flick, so very slick, hence my fstars pick! When Slick Flick Pick is near, stick around, till, Falsetto Prophet's voice, you hear. Lights... camera...action... lends distraction and, with the right Slick Flick Pick, grants satisfaction. I am your worthwhile cinephile; you're my cinematic fanatics; together, we, excitement unlock and run down the real world's unimaginative fstars clock while feasting our eyes on this slick-flick-pick prize.
Enter, with us, you cinematic fanatics, into the realm of film's fantasy as we unwind the grind into virtual reality… we offer you: Pick 23: Slick Flick Pick: Futuristically Sadistic--Leave Well Enough a Clone (The Thirteenth Floor, 1999). Today, we'll discuss-- the legality of exceeding the speed limit when your classic car is the only one on the road, why their peepers change colors when they're soulless shells are jacked in by a new download, when the units realize the limits of the sim's green guise, they'll implode, was Douglas wearing the bloody shirt or a nefarious node, and, as the outro song suggests…will John David Douglas, erase, rewind or reload?
- Your worthwhile cinephile: Falsetto Prophet & Red Devil
P.S. (Procrastinated Statement) *Intro/outro song, Soulicious, courtesy of the artist, Dyalla.