Do we still have to say “spoiler alert”? Then fine: spoiler alert.
Here are observations from someone who has watched the best movie of 2025 too many times:
1. Let’s start with the obvious: Leonardo DiCaprio has said in interviews that he loosely based his character, nicknamed “Ghetto Pat,” after “The Dude” – or “El Duderino,” if you’re not into that whole brevity thing – from The Big Lebowski. For one, both Pat and Jeffrey Lebowski are essentially confused throughout the duration of each movie.
2. Both characters have goatees, occasionally tie back their hair and dress similarly with bathrobes, flannel and sunglasses. (HalloweenCostumes.com actually sells a “Big Lebowski The Dude Bathrobe Costume for Men.”)
Occasionally in our On Tyranny series, we deviate from our normal routing of interviewing musicians on the topics of Trump’s tyrannical regime and the ghastly horrors spewing from it like the 1989’s Exxon Valdez oil spill. We do so in order to demonstrate that the tireless efforts of protestors – the textbook definition of unsung heroes – are succeeding tremendously in their efforts to force the corporate media to increase coverage of the resistance’s war against fascism.
Another way the mainstream (let’s be generous and call them unaware) is finding it very difficult to block out or deny Trump’s reign of terror is when famous people join the resistance by proudly speaking out in public, threats of retaliation from Donald “I am your retribution” by damned.
With that in mind, we found it imperative to publish our third post about Bad Bunny, even if he isn’t returning our phone calls. How rude, especially considering that Bad Bunny copped his moniker fromour The Bad Penny! And yet how seismically important it was for the Puerto Rican rapper to cancel plans to tour the U.S. due to safety concerns.
Even though Canadian hardcore-punk band Fucked Up had proven its punk prowess, capability and credibility by releasing two demo tapes, nearly 20 7-inches — yes, you read that right — and an EP in the five ensuing years since they formed in 2001, their ambitious plan for a long series of releases inspired by the Chinese Zodiac was still met with the typical, cynical guffawing. Was the criticism justified? Read my take in an essay published by The Line of Best Fit, to which I am now proudly contributing.
Feast your eyes on that lovely smile. Those pearly whites. The jacket made out material that could probably fund health care coverage for 100 Americans. (That’s conjecture, but you get the drift.) Meet Dave Koz, the prolific jazz saxophonist who, since launching his career in 1990, has never won a Grammy. Don’t get him wrong, though: He’s a hard “worker,” in that he appears to have had a lot of cosmetic work done to his physical appearance.
Don’t knock The Bad Penny for pointing this out; The Kozman is proud of his accomplishments. In May 2020, he raved to no one in particular about his beauty in a textbook-oblivious Facebook post, saying, “Well, it’s been 3 years since I actually saw my full face. Today was the day to shave. 😊 Not sure if I’ll keep it this way, but man, my face feels like a baby’s bottom…SO good! What do you say, beard or no beard?!”
Megadeth fans can’t be too pleased with the mastermind numskull behind the undeniably iconic metal band, the irascible Dave Mustaine – you know, the guy who cried a river and played the victim card in the Metallica documentary Some Kind of Monster way back when.
Once again, the self-described “born-again Christian” is saying “fuck you” to the Ten Commandments by not admitting his wrongdoings, refusing to atone for the insults he’s volleyed toward marginalized groups, and robbing fans who are either too trustworthy of him or too ignorant of his latest greedy schemes. Like the good little megalomaniacal narcissist that he is, Mustaine is unnecessarily causing even more damage to a legacy he has had countless opportunities to rehabilitate following misstep after misstep.
From accusations of racism and homophobia to the general douchebag attitude with which he makes offensive, uninformed and asinine comments on major media outlets like Fox, the guy just can’t seem to be content with his net worth of $14 million and restrain himself from insulting whomever he pleases. And you won’t believe what he’s up to now.
If you know anything about the media, or anything about your grandparents, it’s that CBS’s weekend morning shows are their programming du jour. They feature soft, comfortable, feel-good segments that reassure septuagenarians that the United States isn’t really crumbling before our (lying!) eyes. After all, what a pain in the tookas it’d be for that sweet, nice and clearly incapable-of-contributing-to-the-mess-we’re-all-in-now cohort to be deprived of all the tranquility they’ve stashed away for the end of their lives.
With all that in mind (and yeah, admittedly, it’s a lot), it was tantalizingly, worlds-colliding-ly bizarre to see Mike Patton – yeah, the Faith No More frontman whose infamous video juxtaposed him contorting like MC Hammer while an asphyxiating fish flopped and failed to its death – perform on CBS Saturday Morning to promote his new AVVT/PTTN project. This is the same Mike Patton who, as legend has it, gave himself an enema onstage at a San Francisco gig in 1991 and “shared” it with the crowd.” The same Mike Patton who supposedly drank his own urine at a different show two years later.
Trivium frontman Matt Heafy plays at Revolution in Garden City, Idaho, on November 29, 2025
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Trivium, one of the hardest-working metal bands that also boasts an ever-reliably broad appeal, are close to clocking their 100th date in another year of rigorous touring. Their 2025 regiment has focused heavily on celebrating/resurrecting interest in their second full-length, Ascendency, a formidable effort – some might call it the Florida band’s breakthrough release – ostensibly because it came out 20 years ago.
But as Matt Heafy and company look back on that release – currently playing four selections from it in their current 14-song set, as The Bad Pennywitnessed last month in Garden City, Idaho – we can’t help be reminded what short shrift Trivium continues to give 2006’s The Crusade, the successor to Ascendency. More specifically, we’re confused as to why the band continues to bury the record’s strongest tracks, which still constitute some of the best material Trivium have crafted in an admittedly cramped catalog with loads of compositions adored by fans of the band, thrash and metalcore, and even critics.
Chief among those neglected songs are The Crusade‘s opening track “Ignition”; first album single “Detonation”; and the most politically charged number in Trivium’s career, “Contempt Breeds Contamination.” Since Trump became president for the first time in 2016, the metal band has played all three songs two times in concert. Not apiece – combined.
The Bad Penny has knocked guitar maestro Heafy in the past for his sometimes substandard lyrics. But the ones he wrote for those aforementioned songs stand among his best-written, not to mention his most admirable. So why don’t we hear them – or, more importantly, the sentiments he expressed in those compositions – more often?
Trivium is quite possibly The Bad Penny‘s guiltiest of pleasures, and we’re gunning to see them in concert for the 10th-or-so time Nov. 29 at Revolution Concert House in Garden City, Idaho. But to balance out this website’s legitimacy, we’re counterbalancing our affection for vocalist/guitarist Matt Heafy’s band by unearthing this harsh but fair analysis of his lyrics that IndiePit originally ran in 2009.
Hey, what can we say? Trivium is pretty good at breakdowns; The Bad Penny ain’t too shabby at takedowns. Also, any guilt we might feel over this lambasting of Heafy’s lyrics is rendered moot by the band charging $55.70 to attend the aforementioned show. Not cool in the economically devastating times in which the non-billionaires among us are currently trying to survive.
For a band that titled arguably its best album For Your Own Special Sweetheart (1994), Jawbox may themselves be the sweetest post-hardcoreband of the ’90s.
On the fateful Friday night of Nov. 22 in 1996, excitement for the weekend got into the heads of three students – including yours truly – and ousted any semblance of logic as punishment. When we learned that the J. Robbins-led Jawbox had plans to play a gig at Mabel’s in Champaign, a city located two hours south of Chicago.
The Bad Penny (beta) 