Few rivalries have shaped Hollywood action cinema more than the fierce competition between Arnold Schwarzenegger and Sylvester Stallone. What began as professional competition in the late 1970s transformed into a decades-long feud marked by genuine animosity, underhanded tactics, and an escalating battle for box office dominance.

This episode dives deep into the fascinating origins of this legendary rivalry, beginning with their first contentious meeting at the 1977 Golden Globes. We explore how their competition manifested on screen through increasingly outlandish displays of machismo - bigger guns, more impressive muscles, and higher body counts - as each tried to outdo the other as Hollywood's premier action star.

The feud took dark turns, from Schwarzenegger's brilliant sabotage (tricking Stallone into starring in the critically panned "Stop! Or My Mom Will Shoot") to allegations that Stallone tried to destroy Arnie's career by linking him to Nazi sympathies. These weren't just promotional stunts for the cameras - this was genuine bad blood between two titans of cinema.

We analyze each star across multiple categories: best films, acting ability, intelligence, humor, fighting prowess, and overall appeal. The discussion weaves through iconic franchises like Rocky, Rambo, Terminator, and Predator, examining how these defining roles shaped their careers and public personas. Along the way, we uncover surprising facts about both men that challenge common perceptions.

What emerges is a nuanced portrait of two extraordinary figures whose rivalry ultimately pushed them both to greater heights. Their competition created the template for the modern action hero and produced some of cinema's most memorable moments. Join us as we settle once and for all the greatest action hero debate of the 20th century. Who truly deserves the title? The answer might surprise you.

The wrestling world lost a titan with the passing of Hulk Hogan, leaving us to grapple with the complex legacy of a man whose iconic persona fundamentally transformed professional wrestling and pop culture.

For those of us who grew up in the 80s and 90s, Hulk Hogan wasn't just another wrestler – he was wrestling personified. His larger-than-life character with the 24-inch pythons, handlebar moustache, and trademark red and yellow attire became immediately recognisable to people who'd never watched a single match. At his peak, some argue he was more famous than Michael Jackson or Michael Jordan, a cultural phenomenon whose influence extended far beyond the squared circle.

Hulkamania began its meteoric rise when Vince McMahon signed him to WWF in 1983, following his memorable appearance as Thunderlips in Rocky III. His character's simple but effective message to "train, say your prayers, and eat your vitamins" resonated with millions of young fans, creating a generation of Hulkamaniacs worldwide. His body slam of André the Giant at WrestleMania 3 remains one of wrestling's most iconic moments, a testament to his unparalleled ability to create spectacle despite what many wrestling purists consider limited technical skills.

Yet discussing Hogan means confronting the stark contrast between the beloved character and Terry Bollea, the flawed man behind it. His legacy is tarnished by racist comments, questionable behaviour within the industry, and a pattern of making demonstrably false claims about his own life. This leaves us with difficult questions about separating art from artist and how we reconcile childhood heroes with adult realities. Whatever your perspective on the man, there's no denying the indelible mark his character left on entertainment history – wrestling as we know it today simply wouldn't exist without him. Share your own Hulkamania memories and join the conversation about wrestling's most influential and controversial icon.

Jerry Dammers likely never imagined that his small Coventry-based record label would spark a cultural revolution. Yet in just two years, 2-Tone Records transformed British music, fashion, and politics – creating a legacy that resonates decades later through its potent fusion of reggae, punk, and ska rhythms.

This episode uncovers the remarkable story of how 2-Tone united black and white musicians during Britain's most racially charged era. As the National Front reached its peak and urban violence simmered, bands like The Specials, Madness, The Beat, and The Selector crafted danceable anthems that directly confronted racism and social inequality. The movement wasn't just musical – it created an entire aesthetic with its distinctive black-and-white visual identity, sharp fashion sense, and multicultural ethos.


Whether you're a longtime fan or discovering this seminal British movement for the first time, join us as we celebrate the bands, songs, and vision that made 2-Tone one of music's most distinctive and influential sounds. Leave us your suggestions for future episodes, and join our conversations on Twitter and Blue Sky @whorememberspod.

What happens when podcast plans fall apart? You roll with the punches. When our special guest couldn't make it, we decided to dive into the treasure trove of listener comments we've been collecting—and discovered we might have accidentally cursed another celebrity in the process.

The episode kicks off with a surprisingly candid discussion about podcast economics. Several listeners have asked for longer episodes, which led us to ponder: should we start a Patreon? We wrestle with not wanting to be "knobheads" while acknowledging the realities of production costs. Would you actually pay for more of this nonsense? We genuinely want to know.

From there, we journey through a remarkable range of topics sparked by your comments. We address accusations of inappropriate cartoon character attractions (it was Daria, not Dora!), revisit the mysterious blacking up of Subbuteo figurines, and share the hilarious story of someone who spent years thinking they were playing a Game Boy football game when they were merely watching the computer play itself.

This impromptu listener feedback episode reveals the strange, surprising community we're building together. Your comments aren't just fodder for content—they're the lifeblood of what makes this podcast special. Whether you've been with us from the beginning or just stumbled upon us, we hope you'll share your own memories, corrections, and bizarre childhood experiences.

Drop us a line at [email protected] or find us @whorememberspod on Twitter and Bluesky. And please, let us know if you'd support a Patreon—discreetly if you prefer. We promise not to judge you for wanting more of this shambles.

Remember flicking tiny plastic footballers across a green felt pitch while arguing over rules that nobody quite agreed on? Subbuteo was more than just a game – it was a childhood institution that generated passionate debates, creative improvisations, and hours of entertainment before video games changed everything.

In this nostalgia-packed episode, we're joined by David Beeden (aka Deadbat) who shares his deep love for the tabletop football phenomenon that had kids collecting teams, building elaborate stadiums, and dreaming of owning that elusive Astro Turf pitch. 

From homemade snow scenes created with icing sugar to metal goals crafted by enthusiastic dads, we uncover the creative lengths players went to perfect their Subbuteo experience. We debate the confusing official rules that nobody seemed to follow, laugh about the ridiculously oversized trophies, and reminisce about the peculiar quirks of a game where all players looked identical (no black or bald footballers until much later) and the goals would fly away with every powerful shot.

Whether you were a casual player or had a dedicated "Subbuteo room" with wardrobes full of teams, this episode will transport you back to an era when imagination ruled and tiny plastic men captured the beautiful game in miniature form. Share your own Subuteo memories with us and help keep the spirit of this beloved game alive!

Remember that flicker of excitement when Ronald McDonald appeared on your TV? Or how Tony the Tiger convinced you that sugar-coated corn flakes were somehow the breakfast of champions? Food mascots weren't just selling products—they were selling childhood dreams, one spoonful of sugar at a time.

The cereal aisle gave us some of the most memorable characters—from Tony the Tiger's booming "They're Grrrreat!" to the mischievous Snap, Crackle and Pop. We discover how these characters were created by the same design team that brought us the Jolly Green Giant, and how some countries have banned them in efforts to combat childhood obesity.

Join us for this delightful journey through the pantry of your past. Which food mascot do you miss most? Share your memories with us on social media —we'd love to hear which advertising character still makes your mouth water years later.

Remember when the world's biggest music stars gathered for a purpose, but somehow the cultural impact vanished like morning mist? Live 8, the 2005 global concert extravaganza meant to pressure G8 leaders on African debt relief, should have been remembered as one of music's defining moments. Instead, it's become the charity mega-event that time forgot.

The lineup reads like a who's who of music royalty, yet lacked the magical moments that define truly memorable concerts. Why did an event with Pink Floyd's first (and final) performance since 1981 register as barely a footnote in music history? Was it the questionable energy flow between downbeat performers like Keane and Coldplay? The controversial ticket distribution system? Or something deeper about how charity events had changed in the twenty years since Live Aid?

Join us for this nostalgic exploration of a massive cultural moment that mysteriously slipped through the cracks of our collective memory. Whether you watched Live 8 and forgot about it or never knew it happened, this episode uncovers what went wrong when the world's biggest stars gathered for a cause that should have been unforgettable.

What happens when the human body mysteriously bursts into flames with no apparent ignition source? The phenomenon of spontaneous human combustion has puzzled scientists and fascinated the public for centuries, with approximately 200 reported cases over the last 300 years.

But spontaneous combustion is just the starting point for our exploration of history's most bizarre deaths. We'll take you through a gallery of strange demises: Franz Reichelt's fatal jump from the Eiffel Tower to test his flawed parachute design; Danish astronomer Tycho Brahe's death by politeness after refusing to excuse himself to use the toilet at a banquet; Frank Hayes, who became the only jockey to win a race while dead; and the Greek philosopher who literally laughed himself to death. Perhaps most disturbing is the tale of the Collier brothers, whose extreme hoarding led one to be killed by his own booby trap and the other to starve to death among mountains of collected junk.

These unusual exits from life's stage remind us how unpredictable our final moments can be. Whether scientifically explainable or genuinely mysterious, these strange deaths capture our imagination and make us wonder: could something equally bizarre happen to any of us? Listen now and decide for yourself which death is the most extraordinary—and perhaps check your home for fire hazards, just to be safe!

Remember turning on ITV2 at any given weekend and finding Jim Carrey's face staring back at you? "Liar Liar" wasn't just a 1997 comedy film – for many Brits, it was practically a constant fixture in our television landscape, something we've all seen dozens of times, but rarely from beginning to end.

In this nostalgic deep dive, we attempt something both foolhardy and fascinating: reconstructing the entire plot of "Liar Liar" purely from memory, without rewatching or researching beforehand. The result is a hilarious journey through half-remembered scenes, confidently incorrect character names, and surprisingly accurate plot points that reveal how deeply certain films embed themselves in our cultural consciousness even when we've never given them our full attention.

What makes this challenge particularly fascinating is how it mirrors the way many of us actually experienced "Liar Liar" – not as a film we deliberately sat down to watch, but as something we absorbed in fragments through repeated casual exposure on television. Our collective memories fill in each other's gaps, creating a surprisingly complete picture of a film neither of us has intentionally watched in years.

Whether you're a fellow child of 90s British television or simply enjoy the nostalgia of revisiting films through the imperfect lens of memory, join us for this unique experiment in collaborative reminiscence. And if you've got suggestions for other films we should attempt to remember, we'd love to hear from you – especially those movies that seemed to be permanently playing on television during your formative years.

Remember when podcast hosts actually listened to their audience? We do! In this feedback episode, we're diving into your comments, memories, and occasional corrections about everything from the National Lottery's cultural impact to that iconic Blur vs Oasis battle that divided the nation.

Your passionate responses to our Sopranos episode prove just how deeply that series embedded itself in British culture, while the Italia '90 memories transport us back to a time of Pavarotti, those distinctive billowing nets, and the heartbreak of Waddle's missed penalty. It's fascinating to discover how differently we all experienced these shared cultural moments – whether you were a Blur devotee with "Coffee and TV" blasting from your Walkman or an Oasis disciple who'd fight anyone who criticized the Gallagher brothers.

The irony isn't lost on us that while hosting a remembering podcast, we occasionally forget things ourselves – like when Liam couldn't recall a video sent just days earlier or momentarily believed Mystic Meg was still predicting lottery numbers. These moments of memory lapse actually highlight something important about nostalgia: it's less about perfect recall and more about the emotional connections we form with our shared cultural past.

We're also announcing our transition to a dedicated Who Remembers feed, so be sure to follow us there for upcoming episodes including our Liar Liar special. And if you're a new or aspiring business owner, creative, or podcaster yourself, we're offering free promotional shout-outs to help build our nostalgic community. Because at the end of the day, remembering is always better when done together.

Rate, review, and share with fellow nostalgia enthusiasts – and don't forget to follow @whorememberspod on your platform of choice!