Send a text

Tonight on The Introverted Obelisk, we confront a familiar fantasy: the belief that science can fix grief if we just push it hard enough.

The Colossus of New York begins with tragedy — a brilliant scientist dies far too young, leaving behind a grieving family desperate to undo the unfixable. Their solution? Ignore the laws of nature, ignore the warnings, and rebuild the man piece by piece.

What emerges isn’t a miracle, but a monument to denial. A towering metal body animated by memory, guilt, and the quiet horror of consciousness trapped inside machinery that was never meant to feel.

This isn’t a monster movie so much as a morality play dressed in bolts and steel. The real terror isn’t the size of the creature, but the realization that intellect without restraint can turn love into cruelty.

As the film unfolds, the question isn’t whether science has gone too far — it’s whether anyone involved was brave enough to stop when they should have.

The Colossus of New York is a story about grief wearing the mask of progress, and the terrible cost of refusing to let go.

Because sometimes the most dangerous invention…is hope without limits.

Support the show

Send a text

Tonight on The Introverted Obelisk, science puts on a lab coat, sharpens its scalpel, and decides that ethics are optional.

In Atomic Age Vampire, a brilliant but broken scientist sets out to save the woman he loves from disfigurement — not with compassion or restraint, but with radiation, stolen youth, and an alarming lack of follow-up questions. What begins as devotion quickly curdles into obsession, as beauty becomes a resource and human lives become test samples.

This is a film where love is measured in dosage, morality is considered a design flaw, and every solution creates a brand-new nightmare. The monster isn’t the creature stalking the night — it’s the idea that science can fix everything if you’re willing to stop caring who gets hurt along the way.

Equal parts tragic romance and cautionary tale, Atomic Age Vampire captures the atomic-era fear that progress was moving faster than conscience could keep up.

So step into the lab, adjust your lead apron, and remember:
just because you can defy nature…doesn’t mean it won’t come looking for repayment.

Support the show

Send a text

Tonight on The Introverted Obelisk, love refuses to let go, science refuses to listen, and a severed head develops opinions.

This episode dives into The Brain That Wouldn’t Die — a film that asks the eternal question: what if grief had a medical degree and absolutely no boundaries?

After a tragic accident, a brilliant surgeon decides the best way to save his fiancée is to keep her head alive in a tray while he shops for a replacement body. This seems reasonable to him. It does not seem reasonable to anyone else — especially the brain.

As the doctor descends deeper into obsession, the film becomes a bleak little morality play about control, denial, and the dangers of mistaking possession for love. The science grows shakier, the ethics evaporate, and the head grows increasingly done with the situation.

It’s grim, strange, and unexpectedly furious — a horror story where the monster isn’t stitched together… he’s wearing a lab coat.

So sterilize your instruments, lower your expectations, and remember:

Just because you can keep something alive doesn’t mean you should.

Support the show

Send a text

Tonight on The Introverted Obelisk, science takes a long, thoughtful look at ethics… and then feeds them to a plant.

This episode tackles The Woman Eater, a British oddity where love, desperation, and very bad research habits collide inside a greenhouse that absolutely should have been burned down in the first act.

A brilliant but doomed scientist discovers that a rare plant can restore youth — provided it’s fed a steady diet of human women. Naturally, this seems like a reasonable trade-off to him. Romance blossoms, bodies vanish, and the plant develops what can only be described as an unhealthy appetite.

It’s part mad-science melodrama, part Gothic romance, and part cautionary tale about what happens when you confuse obsession for devotion. There’s no singing, no charm, and no happy ending — just the slow realization that some experiments are powered entirely by denial.

So trim your hedges, lock the greenhouse, and don’t listen to anything whispering from the soil.

Because tonight’s lesson is simple:
Love may fade…but a hungry plant never forgets.

Support the show

Send a text

Tonight on The Introverted Obelisk, science proves once again that it does not understand the meaning of the word “enough.”

This episode dives into The Return of Doctor X — a late-1930s cocktail of mad science, newspaper intrigue, and the unsettling realization that death is more of a suggestion than a rule. Bodies pile up, alibis unravel, and a reporter starts asking the kind of questions that get you quietly eliminated in dark hallways.

Humphrey Bogart turns up in one of his strangest roles, playing a man who looks alive, sounds wrong, and radiates the energy of someone who should absolutely not be walking around.

It’s part horror, part mystery, and part cinematic shrug — a sequel that insists the experiment isn’t over just because the patient flatlined.

So lock the lab, double-check the gurney straps, and remember:

If science says it’s finished… it’s lying.

Support the show

Send a text

Tonight on The Introverted Obelisk, we slip into a laboratory where the lights are low, the morals are flexible, and science has absolutely lost the plot.

This is a pre-Code nightmare where mad doctors wear tuxedos, murder investigations are interrupted by flirtation, and every solution somehow involves more experiments on human beings.

A string of grisly killings leads to a secret medical symposium, where a group of scientists insist they’re innocent… while behaving in ways that suggest otherwise. There are glowing machines, suspicious alibis, and enough unethical research to get an entire department shut down twice.

And then there’s Lionel Atwill — charming, sinister, and smiling like a man who knows exactly what’s going to happen next.

Dr X is lurid, stylish, and deliciously unhinged — a film that reminds us the real horror of the early 1930s wasn’t monsters in the shadows, but professionals who thought rules were optional.

So grab your lab coat, lock the door behind you, and don’t trust anyone holding a clipboard.

Because tonight, the experiment isn’t over… it’s just getting started.

Support the show

Send a text

Tonight, The Introverted Obelisk invites you to dim the lights, quiet your doubts, and listen closely — because the dead have something to sell.

This is a story about love, loss, and the fine art of pretending you can hear the other side. A grieving widow meets a charming spiritualist who seems to know more about her late husband than any stranger should. The candles flicker, the voices rise, and for a moment, she dares to believe.

But belief is the oldest trick in the book — and this particular ghost story is run by a man who knows how to make pain pay.

The Amazing Mr X drifts between séance tables and cliffside mansions, where longing becomes currency and the past refuses to stay buried. It’s equal parts romance, illusion, and elegant fraud — a noir haunting dressed in moonlight.

So pour something strong, hold hands with whoever you think is next to you, and keep your ears open.

Because in this house, the dead aren’t restless.
They’re rehearsed.

Support the show

Send a text

This is a story about ambition — the kind that starts with applause and ends in a bottle.
We follow a drifter who learns the carny trade, masters the con, and mistakes deceit for destiny. He climbs the ladder of showmanship one lie at a time, only to find the rungs greased with regret.

Behind the banners and the fortune-telling, it’s all just desperation in makeup. The marks want miracles, the grifters want power, and God’s nowhere on the midway.

It’s noir without the city — a sermon for the damned, wrapped in sawdust and neon.

So grab a ticket, take your seat, and listen close, because every word is a trick, every smile is a scam, and under the tent of truth, no one leaves clean.

The show must go on.
And the geek?
He always comes home.

Support the show