With Saturday's espresso under my belt, I perhaps felt overly confident about the process. Sunday, I set about making 4 shots of espresso so that my brother and I could enjoy Americanos together. I had hoped it'd be a nice bonding experience, where he could enjoy the fruits of my birthday present. I never expected the near-disaster that would follow.

I was initially worried when I saw how much espresso grounds I needed to use to fill up the basket. Obviously, you use much more when going for four shots, but I began to worry when I saw that the espresso wasn't dripping as fast as it had the first time. Clearly, the water was having some trouble getting through the extra grounds. Danny, ever the Cassandra, was declaring that everything was going wrong. Refusing to believe him, I began fiddling with the dial on top of the machine that controls the strength of the espresso. I figured maybe if I set it to a stronger or lighter setting that it would pump the water differently. Eventually, the thing did spit out four shots, but it took a little longer than I would have liked.

With the espresso complete, I figured I had dodged the bullet. For some reason, I was struck with the idea to grab the filter's handle and unscrew it from the machine. The moment I shifted the handle back to the left, dislodging it, a powder keg exploded. Like something out of Backdraft, the pressure remaining in the machine caused the grinds in the filter basket to explode! The noise was fairly loud and dull, but the aftermath was major. Grounds encircled the machine, as if the DeLonghi had tried smoking a cigar given to him by an ill-willing Bugs Bunny. Grounds flew into the carafe, which I stupidly left sitting beneath the filter. There were even some black specks on our dishwasher, below the counter. (The photo accompanying this entry doesn't do the mess justice).

After a good bit of laughter, I tried my best to clean out the excess grounds from the carafe and serve the Americanos. Only after enjoying my creation (which wasn't as good as the first time, mainly because of the trauma I had endured), did I return to the kitchen and clean up the huge mess. During this time, my dad was forbidden from entering the room... it was for his own good.

Last May, we debuted our new live adventure, Web of the Futurist, at Cafe Kolache. These four episodes are the bookend (if you'll excuse the pun) to the show's fourth season, in case anyone aside from me is keeping track.

This set of episodes chronicles Dodge's second fight with his Italian nemesis, The Futurist--who is essentially an embodiment of the Modern Art movement of the 1910s. Unlike the first time we introduced the character (Episodes 205-208), the ideas of Futurism are really on display here. The villain has built a league of followers who worship originality, and try their best to brush off any societal norms or standards (they sleep in the kitchen and cook in the living room, for example). It's goofy, sure, but it also explains the core ideas of the art movement (originality, war, motion, technology) to the average listener. This set of episodes even got us noticed by Italian Futurism News, an awesome blog dedicated to recent Futurist art.

As far as writing goes, Season Four has been finished for a few months now. During that time, James and I have begun working on a new set of episodes for our 3-Year Anniversary this August! It's hard to believe that it's been three years since James and I first started this whole podcast experiment... so in order to celebrate how far we've come, we are re-imagining the original first four episodes. We're not changing Dodge's origin story, but simply re-telling the tell with a brand new script that's more in keeping with the way we write the show now. I'm very excited about how things are coming so far. We're going to be performing the show on August 30th at Cafe Kolache.

In the meantime, check out the latest four episodes that make up Web of the Futurist:

• Episode 417
• Episode 418
• Episode 419
• Episode 420

This morning I felt daring. Perhaps it was the fact that I've been thinking about trying out the DeLonghi ever since I got it for my birthday. Or maybe it was because I woke up at 7:30am, watched A Fist Full of Dollars, and was totally pumped to accomplish something this morning--you know, like the kind of accomplishment The Man With No Name pulls off in the third act of the movie. While there weren't really any feuding gangs for me to mess with, I did get up the gumption to try my hand at espresso.

The first thing I needed to decide, before making espresso, was what beans to use. Do I try and grind my Archabbot Reserve from the St. Vincent Gristmill? What about the fair trade Franciscan Blend my parents got me? From the research I did online, you can technically use almost any bean to make espresso, but results may vary. Usually, you want to use a strong, dark roasted bean, like an Italian Roast. Ideally, I'd want to use a kind of coffee made for espresso. So I decided to bite the bullet and actually go get some. The idea here was to get something that's a surefire success coffee-wise. If things turn out poorly, I don't want the coffee to be to blame. So I went to the most consistent coffee shops on the planet: Starbucks. Roll your eyes if you must, but if there's one thing you can't call Starbucks, it's "inconsistent." I got a half-pound of their Espresso Roast, ground for an espresso machine, and came back home.

I decided to amalgamate the instructions from the manual that came with the DeLonghi with a couple pretentious espresso websites that I found. There are plenty of resources online about how to make your own espresso, but a lot of them are pretty condescending. Since the espresso machine was sitting in my basement for about a decade, I thought it wise to follow their instructions for running water through the machine in order to clean it out. This also allowed me to make sure the thing actually functioned (if it didn't, this little blogging idea would be pretty terrible and probably devolve into a list of grievances aimed at the manufacturer).

The water test went well. The steam test, however, was a little frightening. I didn't really need to use the steamer for the espresso, but I wanted to make sure that worked too. You never know when you're going to need to froth something. After about a 10 minute stint of hissing and spewing steam into my kitchen, the process finally ended. If I had known it was going to take that long, I would have hung up some dress shirts and a pair of wrinkled khakis.

Now it was time for the actual first run! I decided that my first drink will be an Americano, namely because I know exactly what one of those is supposed to taste like; I would instantly be able to judge failure and success. So I measured out enough grounds for a double shot (this machine can either make two or four shots of espresso at a time). I filled up the glass carafe with water and poured it in. But since I wanted to make this whole experiment feel a little fancier, I put aside the carafe and opted for two small glasses, roughly the size of those used on espresso machines in real coffee shops. The espresso would then dispense from the dual nozzle into both glasses. To cut down on the wait time, I also heated up water using my brother's electric water-boiling-thing, that way I could combine the two as soon as the espresso was done.

The difference with this home-espresso machine and the real thing comes down to the preparation of the espresso. In the real cafe, a barista needs to "tamp" down the grinds into the filter. What this means is that barista makes sure the grinds are evenly dispersed and pushed together, allowing for the water to move uniformly through on its way to the cup. The instructions for the DeLonghi make no mention of this act, and after some reading online, most people recommended not doing it for the steam-powered home models.

So I grabbed my camera and documented the first pull. I don't really know why the espresso came out uneven, with more dripping into the right glass, but I'm guessing that's because of the way the water moved through the grinds (maybe from not tamping?). From what I could tell, the espresso looked comparable to that of a cafe-made shot. It may not have been as dense, but it had a slight head on it and the color looked close. (For reference, the DeLonghi has three settings for espresso: light, medium, and strong. For this first try, I put it on medium).

With the machine's work done, and nothing ablaze, I poured the two shots into a standard white mug. I added the hot water, along with a pinch of sugar and creamer. You can only imagine my surprise when I took the first sip and realized... that it didn't suck. No, quite the contrary, it actually tasted pretty good! Perhaps it was because I made it myself, and on the first try no less, that I enjoyed it so much. I know there is still much to do, but my first attempt at espresso was a success. My confidence is renewed... and now I have a big mess to clean up.

The story goes that my brother, during his inquisitive gradeschool years, acquired the DeLonghi during a game of merchandise bingo held in our Catholic school's cafeteria. No one knows how the espresso machine wound up on the winner's table, but it's probably a safe bet that it was donated to the cause by someone who didn't understand exactly what they had. After bringing the machine home (to the chagrin of my parents), it was promptly shoved into a dank, cob-webby corner of our unfinished basement and forgotten. I recall inquiring about it once years ago, not knowing where it was, and someone told me that it had been sold at our yard sale. That was the end of it, as far as I knew. Then my brother gives it to me for my birthday, along with a pound of Arch Abbot's Reserve whole bean coffee from St. Vincent College's Gristmill.

Don't think that this is at all similar to the hulking, bank-loan-inducing espresso machines that you see at your local coffee house. It's a much smaller, consumer-friendly version that may or may not be all that it's cracked up to be. At first glance it appears to be close to a normal four-cup coffee maker. From what I've read online, it was an item that probably popped up in department stores close to Christmas and retailed for something between $50 and $90. I also read that it may or may not function as advertised.

No matter. I'm determined to make this thing work, and work well. My love of fine coffee is no secret--and it has only grown since receiving a Bodum French Coffee Press from Karissa on a previous birthday. With this latest addition to my kitchen counter (again, to the chagrin of my parents), I am poised on the cusp of being able to create my own espresso-based drinks at home. The thought of combining my French Press and a shot of espresso into one helluva Red Eye is just too tempting to pass up. But that day is far off, as much as I can tell. Because presently I know nothing about making espresso, aside from what I've read and hear from local trusted baristas.

So I intend to chronicle my journey into the world of espresso-making here on my blog. The series is called Dr. Rubino's Mean Bean Machine--mainly because my brother suggested this apt pun based on the classic Sega Genesis game. I hope to provide plenty of photos of my experiments, recipes that I may discover, and any and all failures associated with this experiment. Hopefully by the end of it, I'll have learned how to make this little machine produced some admirable espresso. I'm not expecting to become a barista, or even usurp my love for hanging out at the locally-owned cafes in the area. I am, however, expecting to waste a lot of coffee beans in the process.

What’s the best political novel you’ve ever read? Why is it the best?
Christopher Buckley's The White House Mess.

Chris Buckley is the best political satirist in the country, and he seems to be the only writer that can really capture the insanity of Beltway shenanigans without being overly critical or condescending. He does a fine balancing act, and actually makes these Washington caricatures into likeable people (he made us sympathize with a lobbyist in Thank You For Smoking for Pete's sake!). But The White House Mess stands out to me as his best purely political novel. It's a memoir of a staffer to a one-term Democratic president who takes office after Ronald Reagan (Buckley actually worked for George H. W. Bush during his only term in office). The funniest aspect of the book is that every character talks about how they can't wait to leave the White House so that they can write their own memoir (all of his have hysterical titles).

The White House Mess is a brief read, but it's incredibly funny and earnest. It's a good starter before you move on to other Buckley novels, like No Way to Treat a First Lady and Boomsday.

If there were only one book on conservatism you could recommend to a newcomer, what would it be and why?
Barry Goldwater's Conscience of a Conservative.

The book was ghost written by William F. Buckley Jr. and not only accompanied Goldwater's bid for the presidency, but launched the movement into mainstream America. It's a brief read that sums up some of the essentials of conservatism. It's a good jumping off point before you dive into Russell Kirk or Buckley.

Is there one book that you’d recommend to uplift and inspire depressed conservatives this summer?
P.J. O'Rourke's Republican Party Reptile.

I found this book used at a local coffee shop, and it's been in my laptop bag ever since. It's not just collecting dust in there, either. Any time I'm looking for something brief and reliably hilarious, I pull it out and read an essay. O'Rourke is a complex individual: he's a gonzo journalist like Hunter S. Thompson and he was a writer for Rolling Stone, but he's also a leading Republican humorist. Reptile was written in the middle of the '80s but is still relevant and awesome today. I'm fairly certain even the coldest of individuals will crack a smile at this book.

What’s your favorite WFB [William F. Buckley Jr.] book and why?
Getting it Right.

I admit that I haven't read some of Buckley's more profound works yet. Nearer, My God is working its way up my reading list, and I'd like to get Miles Gone By and his posthumously-published Goldwater book. But out of the books I have read, Getting it Right is tops. The book is a historical novel about the early beginning of the conservative movement in America. It starts in the middle of the Eisenhower years and follows two characters as they dabble in the John Birch Society, Ayn Rand's Objectivists, and the Young Americans Foundation. It's like Forrest Gump in that these characters just happen to be in the right place at the right time in order to witness historical events. If you're looking for some context about how Republicans shifted towards conservatism, this book is pretty straightforward.

What’s your favorite political movie and why?
The Metropolitan
It's a Wonderful Life
Air Force One

Three movies, each very different. The Metropolitan is about a group of teenage bourgeoisie in New York taking in their Communist friend and converting him to their lifestyle. It's a Wonderful Life isn't really a Christmas movie, but rather is all about a man's dedication to family, tradition, private property, and standing up for his personal beliefs no matter the cost. Air Force One kicks so much butt it's sick. Harrison Ford is the ultimate president as he single-handedly kills the terrorists trying to take over his plane.

If you could read or reread one classic this summer, what would it be? What are the odds you actually do?
Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray.

Not gonna happen... I'm working on Michael Chabon's Yiddish Policeman's Union right now, and then moving on to Mark Frost's The List of Seven and Swanson's Manhunt: The 12-Day Hunt for Lincoln's Killer.

Is there any recent book that’s made you want to buy copies for everyone you know and love? Did you actually make the purchases?
Not really... mainly because I don't know how I would feel if someone I knew was handing out copies of a book telling people to read it. That's a little presumptuous, don't you think? You're asking someone to place this random book in front of their entire reading list.

But if I was going to pick one, I would definitely say Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged, just so I could talk about its ideas with more folks. I don't agree with everything in there, but it sure is fun to discuss.

Are there any summer movies you’re looking forward to?
It seems like every weekend there is another I want to see. Hellboy 2 has been a long time coming. I'm most excited for Ben Stiller's Tropic Thunder. I'm fairly sure that movie is going to be incredibly funny.

Would you rather listen to John McCain’s convention speech or read Dick Morris’s new book?
Both feel a little patronizing... I'll stick with the latest issue of Modern Age.

Name one book we’re going to be shocked you read.
Last year I seriously read The Hardy Boys: Mystery of the Chinese Junk.

I actually went out and paid for it, and then read it in like two days. It was funny in a very awful way, but I felt I was doing some good research for my radio show. That's how I justified it anyways.

The Uni-Ball Vision RT, manufactured by Mitsubishi Pencil Company, is the proud recipient of the "Writing Instrument of the Year" award by the International Stationary Press Association (ISPA). The Association has this to say about the pen:

It is the world first auto-retractable rollerball pen accomplished by inventing a revolutionary refill structure and new ink - the Elevator ink system. VISION RT's refill ink cartridges are available to replace empty cartridges allowing for the body of the pen to be reused to cut waste.

While I haven't had the opportunity to test the pen's touted refill function, I have wondered about the description that the pen is "airplane safe." I suppose that means it won't be taken off of you if you try and take it on vacation; although, I wouldn't be surprised if a security officer recognized the award-winning writing tool and took it for himself. The Vision RT also has an advanced pocket clip that doesn't let the tip pop out if you have the pen clipped on to your shirt. The description sheet had a small illustration of a man's dress shirt with a big blue stain on it. This is, indeed, a serious pen.

I'm not quite sure what fate had in mind, sending me this pen above everyone else in the office. Perhaps it's like the "Sword in the Stone," and I was the only one here that could take it. Or maybe this is more like "The Last Starfighter," and my performance with the pen will determine whether or not I am chosen to help save a dying race of pen-enthusiasts. All I can say is that I'm honored to use the Pen of the Year, and that it's leaps and bounds beyond those mutli-colored, light-up pens I used to get for free in gradeschool.

The Adaptation is a shot-for-shot remake of the Spielberg classic, filmed back in the early 1980s by a group of 12 year olds. It took the kids seven years to complete their film, which they promptly shelved and forgot as they moved on with their lives. Time passed, and through a complicated series of events a VHS copy of the tape made its way to Eli Roth, and subsequently, Steven Spielberg. That was 2003, and since then the director Eric Zala has been holding rare screenings of his movie for non-profits and charities across the country. He can't exactly sell the thing, since it borrows heavily from the original Raiders soundtrack and script (which the kids recite word for word), but he's more than willing to share it.

I wasn't exactly sure what to expect going in to it. I had watched some clips on YouTube, but otherwise was going into this screening fairly unassuming. The film, it turns out, is a lo-fi work of art. The sheer amount of skill and ambition on display by this fairly large group of Biloxi teens is astounding! They nailed the opening boulder chase, the fiery bar fight with Marion, the crowded Arab streets, the excavation scenes, the Jeep chase, the submarine, and even the exploding head once the Ark is opened. At times the audience was in awe of what they were seeing--could this film actually be happening? How did these kids pull this off? But most of the time, everyone was laughing. And really, it's impossible not to. The Adaptation is an adorable tribute to a film that many remember well; better yet, the kids play it in complete seriousness, spouting off curse words and killing as many Nazis as the original.

And yet the entire time, I couldn't help but think about other recent films, created by giant movie studios, that hope to capture the same magic and youth that The Adaptation has. I absolutely loved Be Kind Rewind, which featured two lower-class Jersey boys filming their own home movie versions of classic films. And then there's Son of Rambow, which featured two British boys making their own sequel to the Rambo franchise. Mr. Zala also pointed out last night that Paramount is going to be making a feature movie about him making The Adaptation. I'm not about to declare a Renaissance for high-concept, sentimental home-spun remakes (mainly because that's a real mouthful), but the recent frequency of these movies is very interesting.

While The Adaptation was made back in the 80s, I have to wonder if its recent surfacing has inspired movies like Be Kind Rewind. And moreover, would any of these movies even have arrived without the help of YouTube? None of these films really utilized the online service, but the mere idea that YouTube exists, with its countless remakes, remixes and home movies, had to have spurred these three films into pop culture. Or perhaps the timing is just right. There is something to be said that all three movies focus on classic blockbusters from the 80s. Have the films of the new century been so blah that we are forced to reminisce on the greats of the past? On top of that, the children who grew up in the 80s (me included, although I was really only around for the second half) are adults now, and they're able to make and promote these movies that reconnect them with their childhood. There is a lot to consider here, and I'm just happy that The Adaptation made me even consider all of this stuff.

I am very glad I was able to attend last night's screening--an event that I don't think I'll ever encounter again. Aside from rekindle my ever-growing appreciation for the Indiana Jones franchise, it also showed me that sometimes when you're working your butt off for something you love it can really go on to be something great.

The sign appeared last year at a huge street festival celebrating the announcement of the National Wave. I, along with a thousand or so other folks, came out mainly to see Hulk Hogan and Donnie Iris. Everyone in attendance was given a towel and was assured that more of the same towels would be spread throughout the United States. Then, on July 4th 2008, everyone in this divided and bitter America would come together and wave their towels in one united motion. With Hulk Hogan as the main spokesperson for the event, it seemed like a goofy but possibly successful idea... until the Hulkster got into a number of messy front-page stories involving divorce, reckless children, and reality television addiction. The turmoil in Hulk's life is seeping in to every project he's involved in, including American Gladiators and, of course, The National Wave.

That is the official reason The Wave was postponed for a year (read: cancelled). The secondary reasons all feel more plausible: their plan to distribute and sell the towels across the country put the organization in debt over $200,000, and as of last month they had only produced 1,000 towels (which is about the amount of towels they had on-hand at last year's event). Aside from the really fancy sign, the lack of planning and promotion for the event lead me to believe that it would be doomed. It felt as if the entire county (or at least those who remembered to look at the sign) was awaiting Godot... until Godot's son got into a terrible racing accident and was imprisoned.

I've always believed that the entire idea was fundamentally flawed for one simple reason: America isn't divided. Their entire reasoning behind the waving of the towel was that it would bring this country together, just like we were after 9/11. That unity, however, came about because of a simultaneous feeling of vulnerability and strength, not because some folks sold everyone on the idea of waving a towel. Since then, we have merely returned to the way we were.

America, and the idea of a republic, is based on the ideas of disagreement and competition, cooperation and partisanship. Saying that America is "divided" is just an wimpy way of acknowledging that not everyone agrees on everything all of the time. It's a political buzzword, like "hope" and "change," that's not really founded in fact, but instead is really, really marketable. We merely appear divided because half of America wants less government and a firm commitment to finishing the war in Iraq and the other half wants more government and less involvement abroad. These are worthy sides that deserve discussion, rather than being swept away with the flick of a terry cloth--which in itself may be divisive, since that is the essential way of celebrating something in Pittsburgh but not necessarily across the entire nation.

I'll give the National Wave folks credit for trying something bold. They're not admitting defeat yet, but I'll be very interested to see, when July 2009 rolls around, if anyone is even looking at that sign.

I get the McCain Update just about every day, and it's annoying as hell. I don't recall ever signing up for this puffy newsletter, which details McCain's campaign stops aboard the "Straight-Talk Express." I can only assume that he purchased an e-mail list that I used to belong to back in the days of the Bush and Santorum campaigns. This is understandable, almost every political e-mail list can be bought or sold for a considerable amount of money, mainly because it's a lot easier than having folks stand in the street with clipboards. But that also means that supporters of a specific candidate or party randomly start receiving e-mails they didn't ask for. With me, it's John McCain.

This wouldn't be so bad if the Straight-Talk Express was only tooting its whistle once a month or so, but I literally am being spammed to death by the Arizona Maverick. Now, he's getting up there in age (everyone knows this), so I see him as the sort of elderly gent who just discovered how to e-mail people... and he's hooked. John's addicted to sending out e-mails just like parents or grandparents enjoy forwarding along stupid chain e-mails every chance they get. This new-fangled electronic mail is still very novel to John McCain, and I'm suffering the consequences every day.

I haven't read more than a couple of these e-mails, but I'm also afraid to unsubscribe for some reason. I guess it's the same reason why I put up with e-mails from Nestle, Eat n' Park, and Borders... I never know when I may want to read one.

The Nobel-Prize winning private jet enthusiast was quoted saying, "From now through Election Day, I intend to do whatever I can to make sure he is elected president of the United States."

He also predicted that the Red Wings will win the Stanley Cup, the Giants will beat the Patriots in Super Bowl XLII, and that the sun will rise tomorrow morning.

McCain's website went from a serious black and gold to candy-coated blue and red while simultaneously upping his Web 2.0 capabilities. The old website fit John McCain more; it was a grizzly, dark site with black and white photos of McCain that made him look like a general. But for all its fitting tone, it wasn't very friendly, especially in this day and age of feel-good politics brimming with "hope" and "change" (these aren't necessarily good things). His new site is crammed with all the whiz-bang gizmos and widgets that a modern candidate site needs, and some strange social networking thing called "McCainSpace." His new page is also a pretty blatant rip-off of his opponent's website, with bright blue graphics and lots of "sun rays." Yeah, it's a little creepy.

I have no qualm admitting that I was impressed with Barack Obama's website from the first time I saw it. Democrats have had the majority of artists and designers on their side since the 60s, but this was the first time that I actually felt like they were put to work. The site featured some great images and a unified glowing-blue design scheme. It actually utilizes white space and isn't afraid to make people scroll down. Sure it features those doofy taglines at the bottom, like how it's "powered by hope" (and not some web server client), but I'm willing to overlook that for more of those cool eagle illustrations that suggest he's more than a wimpy liberal elitist. Then there's the massive social networking linklist at the very bottom of the page, Obama Everywhere. If it sounds Big Brothery, that's because it is and he will be, but for now it's just an impressive use of New Media that was previously only really embraced by Ron Paul.

Barack's website is actually perfect for him: it's a slick-looking veneer covering up a vapid statesmen with dangerous ideas. His site is great to look at, but the more you read and experience "the Obama," the more you realize that he's not that great. Equally, McCain's site suits him: it's trying to appeal to a young audience, but can't discard its pragmatic, work-horse nature. It features lengthy policy explanations and transcripts of all of his major speeches. Again, the site is an impressive resource for an accomplished politician; but who knows how many people will spend the time to go through it all?

The game begins by submerging you in Rapture, an art deco city built beneath the sea. You are introduced to the world by Andrew Ryan (whose very name evokes that of Ayn Rand), the city's founder and individualist-numero-uno. It's an intriguing concept: take the objectivist-utopian city of "Galt's Gulch" and submerge it under water, then see what happens years down the road. You are thrown into this world and quickly find that it's in shambles thanks to a group of crazy people who destroyed everything--there's a lot more to the story of how Rapture fell, but part of the fun is uncovering the truth with the help of audio recordings you pick up throughout the game.

There are plenty of surface level comparisons between the game and Rand's books, like one of the characters being named Atlas, and Andrew Ryan constantly spouting lines about individualism, invention, and free enterprise. For the average gamer, it's just a cool story that's a little bit off the beaten path. It's not often in games where the main villain or nemesis is a libertarian engineer; usually, it's the opposite, the villain is a totalitarian socialist looking to take over everything. But for someone who have read Atlas Shrugged or The Foutainhead, BioShock takes on a whole new meaning. It's a game that's rooted in literature and philosophy, yet is extremely accessible to the masses. It's also fun to shoot things.

The game does think for itself, however, coming up with a great story about the dangers of genetic engineering. I admit it would be pretty boring to play a videogame version of "Atlas" (you might as well play "Railroad Tycoon" at that point). With a film adaptation and two sequels already in the works, it looks like Ayn Rand is lending herself to a great new videogame franchise.

There were plenty of amazing storylines last night: Malone getting blasted in the face by a slapper from Hal Gill, only to return with a bloodied, purple mug to finish the game; Gonchar leaving the game after a shoulder injury, and coming back just in time to play on the game-winning powerplay; goaltender Marc Andre Fleury stopping 55 shots and playing the game of his life; Crosby sacrificing his body and diving in front of almost every overtime shot he saw; and, of course, Peter Sykora telling Pierre McGuire that he will score the game-winning goal... and then doing it! Rightfully, that game will go down as one of the best ever in Pens history.

Driving to work this morning was fun. Sure I'm exhausted, but I found that most of the city seems to be tired too. It's a good kind of tired; strike that, a great kind of tired. I pulled up to the drive-thru coffee place I frequent and got a red eye with a double shot. "Stepping it up?" the barista asked me through the window (they can see me coming a mile away). "It was a long night," I said. She agreed, letting me know how hard it was for everyone there to work this morning after watching the game. While that's a little odd coming from workers who get as much free coffee as they want, it is a sentiment shared by much of the city today.

The Fed-Ex and UPS delivery men, who I see just about every morning at work, were certainly dragging anchor today. Everyone who walks through our door says something along the lines of "How about that game!" It wasn't the longest overtime game the Pens have been involved with, but it may have been the most emotional. The entire city is behind the team right now, and it feels as if everyone in Western PA was up last night, screaming at one in the morning.

I can't begin to guess what will happen in tomorrow's game. Will the momentum from this huge win carry us to Game 7? Or will the Red Wings regroup and come back more focused than ever? Regardless, last night's game shows that the Pens, while young, have heart and are willing to sacrifice everything (in a number of different languages) to win this thing. This city has been blessed with a great group of players.

The usual routine for our podcasting habits are to get into our recording studio (which consists of some decent microphones, stands, and a Peavey soundboard who's model number currently escapes me) either directly before or a few days after our live Cafe Kolache performances. I then take those studio recordings and edit them with Apple Garageband, taking time to foley some sound effects and add some polish to everything. Unfortunately, this time around, when I went to edit our recordings, I found that they had all been infested with a terrible electric hum (which my audiophile comrade Moses diagnosed as a 60hz hum). The buzz can apparently be caused by a loose wire, inadequate power, or a bad cord. I haven't yet determined which one of those is the culprit, mainly because I've been trying to salvage all the hard work we did.

Sadly, after hours of fiddling and filtering (employing all sorts of techniques with Audacity, Garageband, and Levelator), I came to the conclusion that these files are simply no good. At least that was the artist side of my brain speaking; the logical side was telling me, "You don't get paid to do this thing... just release them online and stop wasting so much of your time!" But I wasn't about to break our track record of pretty-good-sounding podcasts (something we've been able to achieve since like episode 205). So while it will be a few weeks before we get together to record again, I figured we might as well release the live recordings.

Web of the Futurist is the big whiz-bang conclusion to season 4, which centered around our heroes chasing down a mysterious book that shoots fire. The big draw to these last four episodes, however, lies not within the Tome of Fire, but with their back-from-the-dead nemesis, The Futurist. If you spent any time studying Modern Art, you surely can't forget the minute and insane movement called Futurism. This villain, who is stereotypically Italian of course, embodies everything about the movement, from its endless manifestos to its emphasis on originality and war. You don't have to know anything about art to enjoy these latest episodes, but I have a feeling folks who like Futurism will appreciate it on a whole other level.

So, if you are interested in checking out our live episodes first, download Episode 417 now, and check out our Dodge Intrepid blog over the coming weeks for more!

It's a quaint and admirable tribute to an incredible actor. The museum, which is located inside the Indiana Library, chronicles Stewart's films as well as his life achievements; the guy had plenty of both. Aside from starring in some of my favorite movies, like Rear Window and It's a Wonderful Life, he was also an American hero.

One aspect of his life that surprised me most was his dedication to serving his country. Back before the U.S. entered World War II, Stewart tried to enlist but was turned away because he didn't weigh enough. He then went on a covert weight-gaining diet and tried again! This all happening before America was bombed in Pearl Harbor. There were a ton of Hollywood stars who went and fought for our country back then, which is refreshing given the movie industry's current disdain for war since Vietnam.

Not only was he a war hero, but Jimmy Stewart returned home and became a great advocate for the conservative movement, and the Republican Party. While I was at the museum, I caught a clip of him speaking at a Nixon/Agnew rally and then later on receiving the Presidential Medal of Freedom from Ronald Reagan. I don't know why I was surprised to find him so conservative, it had just been something I never really thought about.

Spending part of a Memorial Day Weekend checking out a museum dedicated to a small town hero like Jimmy Stewart was fitting. If you find yourself in the Indiana area, you should certainly check it out.