By now, you've at least heard of Squid Game, the new Netflix series from South Korean writer Hwang Dong-hyuk. If you haven't congratulations on not being tethered to the internet 24/7.  It tells the story of 456 people who have been selected to play children's games for money, the only catch is if they lose a game, they're shot immediately. I don't want to get into spoilers because people on the internet are incapable of handling that, and I don't want to overanalyze the show because that — much like many of the characters on the show — has been done to death. I think we should just enjoy the show, and leave it at that. Let's not run it into the ground like we have so many other things. Listen, just because I like a show doesn't mean that I want to be inundated with it until I have no choice but to hate it. Since we're approaching Halloween and  Squid Game is the most popular anything at the moment, there is already a rush on getting magenta coverall...

I started watching the first few episodes of the new Netflix documentary-series Jailbirds. If you're unfamiliar with it, think of it as "The Real Housewives of Jail." The show is set in Sacramento, California; a fact that I'm sure thrills the local tourism board. The prison itself looks like the prison planet from the first  Guardians of The Galaxy  movie. This shouldn't come as a surprise, but this show solidified my belief that I'm not cut out for the clink (that shouldn't be a surprise since I just referred to it as the "clink"). There are too many rules in prison. I'm not talking about the guards, they're the reasonable one's in this equation, it's actually the inmates that are completely ridiculous.  The unwritten rules would drive me insane. I would be so sick of worry about being bludgeoned by a Crip because I set my food tray down too loudly. Speaking of the food; they show the food somewhat frequently...

I'm four episodes in to Netflix's docu-series Wild, Wild Country (two Netflix related blogs in a row. Can you tell that I just graduated college and need a job?) which tells the story of the Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh and his followers as they build a commune in Oregon and get into all sorts of wacky trouble. As I was watching, I was struck by how thousands of people were able to blindly follow one man. It's been seen countless times throughout history, a leader creates a following who will do anything for them, good or bad. That's when it dawned on me that I could never start a cult. Not because I don't think it would be kind of cool for a little bit, until the strong arm of the law comes down because my followers were stirring up trouble. It's because I'm missing something that all cult leaders have had in spades. What did the all have in common? Charisma. I can tell that some of you may have just thought, Aw, poor guy is too hard on himself. Nope....

I, like many people, recently found myself watching the new Netflix series Evil Genius . If you haven't seen it yet go watch it right now (on second thought, finish reading this first then go watch it... actually, no, wait... finish reading this post, then click around the blog and read some other posts THEN go watch Evil Genius. There we go, that sounds good). The series is extremely well done and deals with the 2003 Pizza Bomber Case which occurred in Erie, Pennsylvania. If you're unfamiliar, a pizza delivery man, Brian Wells, robbed a bank wearing a metal collar with a bomb attached to it and wielding a shotgun that looked like an old-time cane. Once police caught up to Wells, he claimed that people had strapped the bomb to him, sent him to rob the bank, and then follow a series of clues to unlock the collar and free himself from the bomb. However, as Wells sat on the ground (in a very awkward criss-cross-applesauce fashion) the bomb exploded, killing him. That...