After a month-long sabbatical devoted to fireworks, hot dogs, and the peculiar patriotism of horror fandom (because nothing says “Independence” like a masked killer with a machete), the goblin hosts of My Bloody Podcast have returned, caffeinated, feral, and slightly sunburned, to once again invade your eardrums with Episode #173. The break was, in their words, “a celebration of everything America and horror,” which really just meant consuming unhealthy amounts of barbecue while rewatching Jaws and The Purge in equal measure. But now they’re back weekly, relentless, and ready to shove their ghoulish thoughts directly into your brain.

This week, Bryan, Preston, and Chelsea hurl themselves headfirst, greased, and somehow down a pink jelly slide into The Matrix (1999). Sure, it’s not technically horror, but what is horror if not the creeping dread of realizing that reality is a computer simulation, that you’ve been living in a pod your entire life, and that Hugo Weaving, looking like a cursed Rivendell tax auditor, might chase you through a marble lobby while robotic calamari prepare to enter your navel? Also, gruel. Endless, joyless gruel. If Hell has a menu, it’s probably just that bowl of gray paste.

The episode isn’t just a nostalgic lovefest; it’s a philosophical bender. The trio talks about how the film still holds up after twenty-six years, its unnerving prescience about AI, and how the Wachowskis smuggled big ideas about reality, freedom, and late-stage capitalism into a leather-clad action movie. There are tangents, oh, there are tangents. At one point, they veer into a spirited discussion about the depth of their bellybuttons, which sounds ridiculous until you remember that The Matrix begins with a USB port surgically installed where your fade lines used to be.

They gush over the now-iconic kung-fu sequences, where Keanu Reeves and Laurence Fishburne trained to fight like martial-arts philosophers, and how bullet time fundamentally altered the way we expect action movies to look. The consensus? The Matrix still feels cooler, riskier, and smarter than most blockbusters made since.

Adding to the week’s surrealism, the gang recounts their field trip to The Cosm, a new, possibly futuristic movie theater experience that feels like someone decided IMAX wasn’t immersive enough and built a 180-degree dome to watch movies inside. Usually reserved for sports games and beer-fueled group bonding, The Cosm is, for a limited time, playing The Matrix. Only in Dallas and Los Angeles can you now watch Neo dodge bullets across a hemispherical screen while a server discreetly slides you a themed cocktail (perhaps a blue margarita or a red Old Fashioned) at the exact moment Morpheus waxes poetic about choice.