Episode 627: The Great Molasses Flood of 1919 Part I - Killer Condiments

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There's no place to escape to this.

This is the last podcast.

On the left.

That's when the cannibalism started.

What was that?

Molasses report.

Breaking molasses news.

Wow, you better be ready for the most molasses you've ever heard about or consumed in your entire young life.

Most of you have never even seen a jar of molasses.

Yeah, I know what you're thinking.

What is molasses?

I thought for a second that you were singing the Mortal Kombat theme song.

Molasses.

Molasses!

Welcome to the last podcast on the left, ladies and gentlemen.

My name is Marcus Parks.

I'm here with the thick with molasses, Henry Zabrowski.

I view myself as the Raiden of Molasses Combat.

I'm just missing my Chinese hat.

That's all I'm going to do.

Zap, Zap, you just got molasses.

I'm Asian.

I'm electric.

I'm covered in molasses.

And also, of course, I would say...

Pre-sticky, Ed Larson?

Yes, I am covered in goo in the future.

And I got to, you know what I want to do when I thought of this?

I want to change Jackie Onassis' name to Jackie Molasses because she was a little quicker.

She would have got them brains back in that head.

Yeah, she was a bit slow.

She was a bit slow, but honestly, if her name was Jackie Molasses, I'd expect a little bit more of the gumption in the trunk.

She actually was, she was pretty thick.

Well, the reason why we're talking about molasses is because today we are going to be covering the great molasses Flood of 1919.

This is one of those topics we have hovered around for a long time.

It's unusual, it's interesting, but also

features a lot of the history of molasses.

Yeah.

And the.

Well, don't fucking don't blow it all just yet.

Yeah, I definitely don't want to ruin the history of the surprise.

Yeah, I know what you're thinking.

If a lot of people died and we're talking about it, why are we calling it great?

It's called the Great Molasses Flood because some guy saw what happened right afterwards and he was like, well, great.

Oh, great.

It's a molasses.

It's a flood of molasses.

Great.

This is my long weekend.

Oh, good.

Get the brooms.

So the Great Molasses Flood was a horrific industrial accident that occurred in Boston in the year 1919.

That January, a massive storage tank holding 12,000 metric tons of molasses burst above the North End neighborhood.

Too much molasses.

As a result, 21 people died, 150 were injured, and the neighborhood itself was all but demolished.

Now, one might think that this story is a one and done, a curiosity, in which a bunch of people die in horrific, unimaginable ways, and that's all there is to it.

Fortunately, though, this story turned out to be a two-parter because it's filled to the brim with my favorite thing in the whole wide world.

What's that?

Historical context.

About molasses.

Hey, Boston.

Yeah, I know.

But it's mostly about molasses.

Now, is this the reason why Boston hates the color brown?

You know the answer?

Kind of.

Kind of.

And we're going to absolutely get into it.

See, the Great Molasses Flood represents a moment in American history in which multiple historical topics and events come together to form a single massive fuck-up of the highest order.

Amongst other subjects, this story involves bombings, anarchists, anarchists, industrial corruption, World War I, immigration, political violence, prohibition, and ultimately the American Revolution itself.

Yeah.

Basically, molasses is nutmeg all over again.

Work so hard to get away from nutmeg.

We covered nutmeg so thoroughly, and now we're up to our hairlines in another nutmeg.

I didn't work hard to get away from nutmeg.

I reluctantly let go of nutmeg.

Oh, God.

Actually, what's funny is that I do have a kind of a series of like tchotchkis people have given me over the years that I have like on top of my

through all the various meet and greets.

And I was like, one, I was going through like all the stuff for some reason.

It was dusting.

And I saw a big jar of nutmeg.

And I was like, oh yeah, somebody just gave me that nutmeg.

I gave you the nutmeg.

Yeah.

Ed came in and gave us both

nutmeg.

I know where my nutmeg comes from.

Yeah.

Yeah, well, I know where it comes from too.

Slavery.

seems like someone doesn't want his molasses char

but don't worry dear listener those horrific unimaginable deaths i mentioned earlier are indeed contained within this series the people who died in this accident suffered nightmarish fates fates that could have been prevented if only the right people had been paying attention to the molasses See, admittedly, a molasses flood is a silly concept when you first think about it.

Sure.

Because the phrase molasses flood conjures up images of people being slowly overtaken and suffocated by a gooey dark brown liquid.

It's silly.

Because also, you know, I feel like media used to have more like pictorials of dangerous, large flowing, slow liquids.

Right?

Yeah.

Yeah.

Like the blob.

Yes.

There was the blob.

And then

two blobs.

There was another big one.

There's another one.

That one was stuff.

The stuff.

Yeah.

Yep.

The ants were slow and ants.

Them.

Them, them, them.

You're right.

You're right.

Man, fucking molasses.

I'm so excited to eat some.

I know.

It's not good.

I like it.

But the phrase slow as molasses doesn't really apply when you're talking about 2.3 million gallons of the stuff.

When you're talking about any flowing substance in that volume, much less something as thick and viscous as molasses, you're talking about a destructive power that rivals a tsunami.

In some respects, a molasses flood is actually worse because one can't really swim through molasses.

And that challenge went double for the victims of the molasses flood because the force of the molasses impact was strong enough to shatter bones.

Whoa, so they didn't all just turn into like Jurassic Park mosquitoes.

No, that was just a super slow joke.

But before we get into the story of the molasses flood and ultimately the surprisingly fascinating history of molasses itself, let's acknowledge our source for today, the one that brought all this historical context together.

That source is Dark Tide by Stephen Palaio.

Now, have you thought that Marcus has been driven into a molasses fever?

Stefan Puglio is fucking patient zero of molasses fever.

Yeah, he's got foof, fuck, fuck, fever.

I mean, I do agree that molasses is important and it's interesting, but this guy, like, he puts molasses on a level of importance, like, with the atomic bomb.

Right.

He's like really into molasses.

You don't want to have breakfast with Stephen Peleo because you're not going to end breakfast.

Yeah, bring the earbuds.

Yeah.

And the information contained within this book is fantastic, but the book itself probably could have used a stronger editor if we're being honest, because it does tend to lose itself in its own context at times, which I get, this is exciting stuff.

But even so, the book is still a fascinating and compelling read for anyone who enjoys the genre of nonfiction in which an author takes a seemingly inconsequential object and makes the argument that said object is extraordinarily important to world history.

It's been done countless times, like at rope, cod, salt, all kinds of things.

I agree with all three of those things, though.

Yeah, it's very important.

Yeah, and it's great for ending your life.

Cod's a really good flaky white fish.

And I love salt, as you can see.

Soap's big, too.

Yep.

Yeah.

It's all massive.

Yeah.

You could actually take any object and be like, well, it's very important, but you know, it's all intertwined.

But it is an entire genre of nonfiction.

It's very, it's very cool.

I like it.

I can't wait to the gen alphas write their books about how Pokemon led to 9-11 or something.

That's where we're going to find out.

I thought that was Pearl Arbor.

Yeah.

Now, when most of us think about molasses today...

It was general Pokemon.

Now, when most of us think about molasses today, if we even think about molasses at all, the substance conjures up the image of a sub-par breakfast condiment condiment that kind of goes with biscuits and not much else.

Shoe fly pie.

Sure.

What is shoe fly pie?

Extremely sweet, treacly pie made by the Amish.

Oh, and they call it shoe fly because you have to shoo the flies away from it?

Yes, because it's so sweet.

Yeah.

Well, it's therefore insane to think of a world in which there was enough demand for molasses that a company built a 2.3 million gallon tank solely for the purpose of holding molasses.

And they built that tank in such a place where its contents were likely to kill dozens of innocent people if it failed.

They took a lot of risks for molasses.

Somebody felt molasses was super crucial.

Yeah, but to understand why a company called USIA built their molasses tank above one of the most crowded neighborhoods in America, therefore setting the stage for our most bizarre industrial accident, you got to first understand how important and versatile of a substance molasses was back then.

You're so excited.

It's the money.

I don't know what this shit is.

So truly, like, this was like the light up in Marcus's face yesterday when I came and we were talking about the episode.

I was like, you know, there's quite a bit of historical context about molasses.

And Marcus is like, yeah, I know.

And I was like, it just seemed to me like,

you know, it's fine with me.

I love it.

We're turning into a jelly-based podcast.

I mean, it's much better than raping girls in the trailer.

So I'm like, let's see.

Hey, some of us got different tastes.

No, this is about, it's the wonder of the world.

It's like how all, how everything fits together.

It's how the world works.

It's super cool shit.

I love it.

This is my favorite.

Sure.

Now you may be asking, as Henry asked me the other day, where the fuck does molasses actually come from?

No, I thought it came from a tree or a bush.

Is that a tree?

Nope.

No, no, it is not, as we speculated, made from sap like maple syrup.

Instead, molasses is the byproduct of sugar manufacturing.

Yay, industrial byproducts.

Yay!

See, when sugar cane is crushed and boiled to extract sugar, the remaining syrup after the sugar is crystallized, that's called first molasses.

This is the sweetest variety.

This is your grandma's original gold standard molasses.

Unpasteurized.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

The straight shit.

But the sugar is not done after the first molasses.

It's boiled a second time, which creates what?

Second molasses.

I can't believe I didn't guess.

Yep.

I did.

My second guess?

Molasses Jr.

It's less sweet and it's cheaper, but it's still edible.

Great.

But finally, from the third extraction.

Why are we eating that?

Then why are we eating it?

First molasses?

Second molasses.

Well, we don't eat second molasses anymore.

Why do we make second molasses if it's not eaten or used?

It was eaten and used back then, way back in like the 1600s when we first started making molasses.

So you get your premier molasses?

Premium molasses, like that.

That's what George Washington's eating.

Yeah.

So then what Benjamin Franklin's smearing second molasses on his girlfriend?

girlfriend?

Yeah, actually, I would say so.

Yeah.

Cheaper, but still edible.

Yeah.

You know, like how edible panties, like, you know, they're pretty much like, you know, fruit roll-ups.

Yeah, they're not the best fruit roll-ups, but you can wear them and eat them off of somebody.

That's second molasses.

Okay.

But finally, from the third extraction, you have what's called backstrap molasses.

Wouldn't have guessed that.

Nope.

This molasses is dark, nearly inedible, and used primarily for manufacturing industrial and grain alcohol.

Now, the grain alcohol is, of course, used to make spirits, primarily rum, but the industrial alcohol made from backstrap molasses is far more profitable as it was used back in the day to manufacture munitions like high explosives and gunpowder.

Now, humanity has since found far cheaper and easier ways to manufacture industrial alcohol.

We don't use molasses for this purpose anymore.

But backstrap molasses was in such demand prior to that discovery that it was indeed the shittiest variety of molasses that burst from its tank above the North End neighborhood to drown and crush the good people of Boston in 1919.

Backstrap Molasses sounds like the cheapest stripper at the club.

Hey!

Yeah, you want a lap dance?

Yeah, you gotta hop on my lap.

My name's Backstrap Molasses.

Yeah, I got the thickest back here at Candy's.

I'm here from noon until three on Mondays.

I do the lunch shift specifically.

You want the soup?

Yeah, I have some soup.

Here, look at my pussy.

Backstrap molasses.

No, that's what I meant.

That was for me like one of the, like, just a horrible thing about this whole accident is that it wasn't even the good molasses that's drowned the people.

It was the shittiest molasses.

I actually be super mad if they wasted all the good molasses and drowning all these people.

I'm glad that weapon, those, that molasses was out to kill.

Weapons-grade molasses.

This is what we're talking about here.

This is what we've reached.

This is Killer Condiments.

Last podcast on the loud.

This is all about molasses that was primed to kill.

This molasses was molested and it came from a broken home.

The cycle of pain continues down the slope.

It was kept in a tank too small.

Yes,

that is what's happening here.

This molasses snapping back at society.

Life from your grave.

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Concerning the importance of molasses to world history, this sticky substance was indeed a staple of the New England diet for hundreds of years as an ingredient and a flavor.

So tons of the stuff was shipped to the American colonies starting in the 1600s.

But back during colonial times, molasses was far more important to the economy of New England for its use in the production of rum.

Now, our historians out there might know where I'm going with this, but rum was a massive cog in the machine that built the American slave trade.

The trade cycle that went on here was that molasses was imported to New England from the West Indies.

That's the Caribbean islands.

We talked about the East Indies.

That was, you know, when we talked, that was, you know, Wake Indonesia, all that.

We're talking about the West Indies here, the Caribbean.

Once the molasses was in New England, it was used to make rum.

That rum would then be loaded into ships bound for Africa.

The rum would then be traded to the Africans for the enslaved members of other tribes, and those slaves would then be taken and sold to plantation owners back in the Caribbean so they could produce what else but more molasses.

It almost seems like there's no point.

I mean, it's a self.

It is literally, they've created their own supply and demand system.

Yeah, no, no, no.

This cycle came to be known as the triangle of trade, and it functioned as the backbone of New England's economy prior to the American Revolution.

Now, the rum slave pipeline was so successful that it produced an excess of enslaved Africans, far more than any number of plantation or farms in the West Indies or New England could use combined.

But, as we'll see again and again in this story, the molasses money was too fucking good to pump the brakes.

To keep the profits ever rising, slavers greatly expanded the slave trade to the southern colonies to support the south's burgeoning plantation system, which basically created a whole new economy.

As such, one could make the argument that without molasses, the southern colonies might have never gotten as hooked on slavery as they ended up getting.

And if America never has slavery in the south on such a scale that people were willing to kill their fellow countrymen to preserve it, then the world looks like a very different place indeed.

I'm not eating any more molasses.

Yeah, fuck molasses.

You ain't killed Lincoln.

Holy shit, molasses killed Abraham Lincoln.

It's all fucking coming together.

Thank God the grit economy never took off.

Can you imagine if grits became the number one

slower than molasses?

Oh, God.

Hello, country breakfast.

Are these 20-minute grits or 40-minute grits?

And again, thank you to the person in Atlanta who cosplayed us Abraham Lincoln at our show.

Oh, my God.

Fantastic.

She was wonderful, and she came to the dad's garage shows painted completely green.

As an alien for Henry.

She did a great job.

Incredible.

Yeah, please come dressed up to our shows.

We love it.

Now, molasses had become an indispensable part of the American colonial economy by the mid-18th century.

You still with me, Henry, after that saying, I love this thing.

I am here.

No, I read the script.

So, England figured they'd use the sticky substance to pay off their debt from the Seven Years' War by taxing molasses with the Sugar Act of of 1764.

Yeah, this made a lot of guys angry.

Yes, this, of course, was one of the big taxation without representation bugaboos that set the stage for the American Revolution, meaning molasses even played a part in the birth of our country.

In fact, John Adams himself said, I know not why we should blush to confess that molasses was an essential ingredient to American independence.

Yes, here, here.

Oh, geez, I have.

Shit, my pantaloons.

I had too much second-run molasses this morning.

Maybe we should rethink what we've done here.

By the time the Industrial Revolution rolled around in the late 19th century, industrial alcohol made from molasses was not just a significant part of the New England economy, but the American economy at large.

The center of America's molasses empire was Boston.

Boston!

Because Boston had also been the center of America's slave trade back when most Americans were more or less cool with slavery, and it made sense to operate the slavery and rum businesses out of the same town.

But as a consequence of Boston's past as a hub for slave trading, our nation's most racist northern city would be the site of the great molasses flood of 1919, and it would all be the fault of a company called United States Industrial Alcohol, or USIA.

Oh, yeah, you know how we like our molasses.

Dad?

You know how we like our molasses.

It's in my mouth.

The USIA bought its molasses from sugar plantations in Cuba starting in the 1800s.

That molasses would be transported by steamership to Boston, where it would then be temporarily held until it could be transported to USIA's alcohol manufacturing facility in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

Stall that?

Yeah, yeah.

Molasses steamership sounds like getting your asshole sucked up.

It does.

It does.

The molasses steamership sounds like something that old Backstrap will deliver in the back in the

I was trying to figure something different than the champagne room.

Backstrap is not in the champagne room.

Backstrap is grain alcohol room.

Yeah, the molasses junior room.

Yeah.

So it's so the molasses goes from Cuba to Boston, then to Cambridge.

Okay.

Now, by 1914, a small part of USIA's molasses was still being used to distill grain alcohol for rum, but the majority of the molasses was earmarked for the manufacture of industrial alcohol, the main use of which in 1914 was in producing munitions like dynamite and gunpowder.

Now 1914 was indeed an auspicious year for high explosives because 1914 marked the beginning of World War I, and USIA was all set to make as much money as they possibly could from the carnage and misery begat from that war.

Good for them.

So began our great American legacy.

Now, USIA was selling massive amounts of industrial alcohol made from molasses to European countries even before America became involved in World War I.

But the company still had to rent relatively small storage tanks in Boston at great cost to hold their molasses until it could be transported to their facility in Cambridge.

So, USIA figured that they could maximize their profits by building one single 50-foot-tall monstrosity of a storage tank that they owned themselves.

The largest tank in the region by far, capable of holding 2 million gallons of molasses at all times.

I want you all to listen to me, boys.

I have an idea.

The biggest problem we have is holding the molasses.

And I say,

honestly, hey, what holds the molasses better than anything else?

A bucket.

That's what I was thinking, boys.

I'll listen here.

We build the world's biggest bucket.

God damn it.

I love this man.

Yeah.

I'm stuck to the seat.

The task of building this abomination was given to a sniveling middle manager named Arthur P.

Jell.

I'm your bucket constructor.

You gotta believe that bucket will be as big as I can get it.

Jell was the treasurer for a subsidiary of USIA in Boston.

But Jell was ambitious and he had his heart set on a vice president spot in New York City at the parent company.

If all went well with the construction of the industrial molasses tank, Jell believed that that corporate slot could be his.

Now, Jell was your classic, indifferent industrialist who cut corners and scoffed at the conclusions of experts if those conclusions ran contrary to his plans.

All a bucket needs is walls and a hole.

That's all we need to provide, I don't want to hear anything else.

Should we put a rope on top of the bucket?

No.

How are we going to carry it?

If we're going to leave it alone.

I'm not going to have you eggheads come in here and tell me how to make a bucket.

I know how to make a bucket.

How to contain the molasses?

We keep it in one stable, big giant bucket.

It's easy to do.

Quit thinking about it.

Quit thinking picnics.

This ain't no picnic.

It's molasses.

We've got a war going on.

But in true corporate form, USIA had also put Jell under an enormous amount of pressure to have the tank complete in just a few months, because USIA wanted their 2 million-gallon tank ready when the next shipment of molasses arrived from Cuba on New Year's Eve, 1915.

Now, Jell immediately ran into a bevy of problems when he tried just leasing the land to begin construction on the tank.

But the pressure only increased when a British luxury liner called the Lusitania was sunk by a German submarine off the coast of Ireland.

This is where this show has finally touched tips with my high school

history education.

That's the last thing I remember.

It's Lusitania.

Yeah, is that word?

Yeah.

That's the thing about high school history.

It's like it always seems to end at World War I.

I never got past World War I in any history class in high school.

You run out of time.

You always run out of time.

Yeah, once you get the interesting parts, it for so long, it's Benjamin Franklin did this and this other guy did this.

And it's been like, I want to know MacArthur.

Yeah.

Well, I think, honestly, I think that one of my history teachers, I think he was just stalling because he was a Vietnam vet who had obviously gotten really fucked up and he did not want to make it to the 70s.

Oh, wow.

Yeah.

Because then he'd have to start wrapping his head in a headband and fucking doing Russian roulette in front of the kids and marching the Asian ones down the hall and marching them back and forth.

And he's indiscriminately.

I feel like I learned about the monitor and the Merrimack every year.

Yeah.

Yeah, sure.

Yeah.

It's just a boat.

There's two boats.

They got in a fight.

There's a lot of other stuff going on.

A lot of stuff.

But boats, big part of American history.

That's the thing.

You know, America had pledged to stay out of World War I entirely at its beginning.

And many Americans had, in fact, sided with Germany in the beginning because so many of us have German heritage.

But out of the 1,200 people who died on the Lusitania, 128 were American.

So public opinion shifted against the Germans and closer to war.

So if America was going going to enter the war, the munitions were going to be in even higher demand.

More munitions meant more industrial alcohol, and more industrial alcohol meant more molasses.

As a consequence, the pressure to finish the tank before America entered the war was added to everything else.

Why did they put it on top of a hill?

Because then everybody can get at it.

It's so heavy.

You got to bring it up the hill.

I think that.

Just leave it at the bottom of the hill.

I think it's about pouring the molasses out of it.

Actually, can I ask, Mr.

Chell?

I am sick and tired of your of your.

I am sick and tired of your little Yankee excuses.

But it's just

the molasses are so heavy.

We don't need to take it up the hill.

I mean, the horses are tired.

I think I need someone on bucket duty.

Shit!

Yeah, Jillie gets on top of the bucket.

Hold on, so we got little buckets pouring in the big bucket?

Yes.

Actually, no, it's more of a hose operation we got going on here.

But I view hoses as long buckets.

That's a different story altogether.

That's the history of hoses and buckets.

Now, construction on the tank began in the first week of November in the year 1915.

That didn't give the workers a whole lot of time to put this thing together properly if it was going to be done in time for the next molashi shipment due to arrive on New Year's Eve.

The project, however, seemed cursed from the very start.

Delays were introduced at the beginning of December when work slowed down following the death of an employee who fell 40 feet into the tank itself from a staging plank above.

That worker was named Thomas DeFratis, who I only mention because his name is very fun to say out.

More like Thomas DeFlatis.

The worst bucket workers I've ever seen.

Put the molasses on top of him.

Who cares?

Spice it up.

Well, construction came to a standstill again when a so-called superstorm swept into Boston a couple of weeks after Thomas DeFratis' death.

This storm brought 20 inches of snow along with torrential rain and gale-force winds.

This, of course, ended work completely on the tank for days on end.

That's how you know the bucket's working because the snow and the rain building up inside the bucket.

Because the problems kept coming, the man in charge of building the tank, the aforementioned Arthur P.

Jell, began cutting corners in the most negligent and arrogant ways possible.

Instead of testing the tank for leaks by filling it with water, as was required by contract, this inexpensive process that would have taken days, if not weeks, Jel ran a far cheaper and far faster test by ordering his men to run just six inches of water into the 50-foot tank.

Now, Terrence, I want you to do just now.

I want you to climb down to the bucket.

I want you to just splash the water around a little bit, see if it does anything to it.

You're having too much fun there, Mortimer.

We're not going to kill your family.

Thank you.

Very good.

All right now, can we kill him?

No, no,

we'll pull him up.

We'll pull him up.

All the insurance people are watching.

Well, the six inches of water, that brought the water level just above the first angle joint, where one would expect to see leaks first.

But when no leaks sprung, Jell declared that the entire structure had passed all inspection.

But the biggest corner Jel cut, the one that got 21 people killed, concerned the steel used to construct the tank itself.

See, the tank was made of seven vertical layers of rounded steel plates, which were held into place by rows of horizontal and vertical rivets.

Now, the plan was sound, but the design had a very specific minimum thickness requirement for the steel plates.

But, just like gel, the company who made the steel had also cut corners.

Hey, buckets don't got corners.

That's what I said.

I said I'm cutting the corners because if it's not, it's not a bucket.

All right, it must be rounded.

How else will the molasses sit properly, I think?

When the steel plant delivered the plates that were to make up the tank, the plates were 10% below the minimum thickness.

That's nothing.

Which means that...

That's a markoff right there.

And that means that Jell either checked the thickness and rolled the dice, or, more likely, never checked at all.

But no matter where the negligence lay, it still meant that the molasses tank was essentially a ticking time bomb that was inevitably going to burst.

And it was all done so one corpo could get the promotion of his dreams.

Yeah, and you don't understand.

Promotions just lead to more work.

Yeah.

You know, and that's actually the big problem here.

Now, even though Jell had cut corners when it came to construction, he spared no expense when it came to security.

Jell was adamant that an officer from the Boston Police Department be paid to stand on a fixed post at the tank, guarding it at all times.

And I tell you right now, I'll pay you double your fee as long as you leave the slurs to an absolute minimum.

All right?

You can do three slurs an hour.

That's all you can do, right?

Now, Jell did have reason to do this, but when it came time to place blame for the tank's failure, Jell's reasoning for increased security also became a convenient scapegoat.

Essentially, Jell had posted guards because he was afraid of anarchist saboteurs, because the anarchists were at the time bombing and setting fire to all manner of buildings and people all across America.

One of the worst examples were the Freedom of Pancakes Party that was going against anything.

I mean, eggs.

Anything that had eggs was a target.

Bacon couldn't be served.

They just absolutely couldn't stand the idea of someone telling people what breakfast was.

Well, the anarchist movement believed in the 1910s, mind you, that capitalist forces were working hand in hand with the government to make the lives of the working-class poor miserable and impossible to change, which, you know, fair point.

They might have been correct.

But in order to break free of those bonds, the anarchists were pushing for a social revolution, and that revolution would, according to some of these anarchists, ultimately need to be a violent one.

See, in their view, the state was guilty of structural violence because it directly or indirectly prevented people from meeting their basic needs.

So the violence perpetrated by anarchists in America during the 1910s was justified as self-defense against the state in big business.

Interestingly, though, and I can't believe no one fucking talks about this, the leader of one of the main anarchist groups that were in essence defending and deposing, if you will, his name was what else but Luigi.

Yeah, yeah.

And you know what's funny?

There's a Luigi shall lead us.

Each time, which we never, no one expected.

Is there a Luigi cycle?

You know, they talk about like the 77, you know, they talk about like these cycles.

Is there a Luigi cycle where like once every like hundred years, a Luigi comes?

Did you think that the Yoshi cycle was when everyone was talking about eating ass for like five years?

It was at that time.

You know, I wonder because there was a lot of Italian anarchists.

That was a huge movement in Italy.

And we're going to get to why the Italians were really big into anarchism in America here in a bit.

The first time I saw Antifo spray-painted everywhere was in Italy.

Yes.

Yes.

Now, the anarchists rightly surmise that capitalism and warfare are inextricably linked.

So to them, World War I was basically a representation of everything that was wrong with the world.

So far, they're not wrong.

No, I mean, that's the thing.

With the anarchists, I agree with the points.

Yes,

it's just the methods and the conclusions on what should be done about it that I have, you know, that's like, all right, well, let's talk about it.

All I know is that

if internet forums are an example of a leaderless area, then we should maybe talk about anarchy on an extended way.

Imagine if mods had guns

and what that would do.

Yeah, well, that's the thing is that you shouldn't, even in anarchy, the mods are useless.

You should not have mods.

But they would always say, don't they in our answer in anarchist groups have sort of like a communal understanding of society where they're decision makers?

I don't know.

There's like nine different types of anarchists.

Yes, I did.

It's very complicated.

It's extraordinarily complicated.

And man, you think talking with a communist is tedious?

I don't know.

I know, man.

One night in New York,

I spent a night drinking with a communist and two anarchists, and it was the most tedious night of my life.

You know, and these are people you should just be doing drugs with.

Yeah, we were drinking.

We were definitely drinking, but the more we drank, the more tedious it got.

And it's hard.

It's got to be a couple rules.

That's hard.

That's all hey.

It's our rule.

But while the anarchists were against war, they infamously used violence again and again in an attempt to bring the gears of war to a grinding halt.

In particular, the anarchists liked bombs, and they liked fire.

Everyone does.

Yeah, true motherfuckers.

It is true.

I mean, yeah, you look at...

Bonfires in 4th of July.

I mean, everyone loves it.

See, during the same exact time period that the molasses tank in Boston's north end end was being built, a series of suspicious explosions and fires broke out at strategic manufacturing plants across America.

This was all a part of the anarchist playbook, because just a few months before, anarchists had sent almost 50 booby-trapped dynamite-filled mailbombs to a cross-section of prominent politicians, newspaper editors, and businessmen.

Humorously, the mailbombs were sent in boxes stamped Gimbel Brothers novelty samples.

But as to how all this relates back to the molasses, anarchists were, in late 1915, suspected of engaging in sabotage at various munitions and weapons factories.

And the North Inn molasses tank certainly fit the bill as a large cog in the war machine.

Molasses to industrial alcohol to gunpowder.

But to add to the fears of anarchist sabotage at the tank, A steelworks in Pennsylvania that produced guns for the Allies was destroyed in a suspicious fire in November, while an explosion at the DuPont powder mill in Delaware killed 30 men shortly after.

Then, on the heels of the DuPont explosion, an anarchist was arrested after threatening to blow up the Westinghouse Electric and Manufacturing Company and assassinate President Woodrow Wilson all at the same time.

That's a big plan.

It's a huge plan.

But all of these events occurred at the same time that the molasses tank was being constructed.

My bucket will continue to stand.

Whether they are anarchists or communists or Nazis or anything.

My bucket will stand the test time

Boston meanwhile was becoming a bit of an anarchist hotbed or at least that's what authorities believed see a lot of anarchists were Italian no way

It's interesting and the North End neighborhood where the molasses tank was being built was made up almost entirely of Italian immigrants by 1915 But Italian Americans didn't gravitate towards anarchism specifically because they were Italian rather Italians became anarchists in America because they were immigrants Immigrants who felt like they'd been disenfranchised and exploited by the capitalist system, which again, fair point.

They are emotional.

The Italians.

And spaghetti is an inherently anarchic dish.

You know, you can't control spaghetti.

But in addition to their exploitation, Italians were also the most vilified group of immigrants in America in the early 20th century.

They were viewed by many other Americans as lazy, violent freeloaders who refused to learn English.

As a result, Italians were the the second most lynched population in America at the time.

Now, the treatment that Italians received angered quite a few of them, and some turned to anarchism for answers.

But most Italian immigrants, especially those in Boston's North End, they stayed out of politics completely.

Those that stayed out of it were merely trying to forge a better life here in America, just like the vast majority of immigrants to America from every country ever.

But since the North End was made up of disengaged immigrants who didn't vote and therefore had no voice in municipal matters.

There wasn't much, if any, pushback from the neighborhood when Arthur P.

Gell and USIA came in with their imposing plans for a 50-foot-tall molasses tank.

And the only thing you'll ever smell ever again is molasses.

And that will be the smell of Boston.

And now that'll be the only thing that Boston's ever known for ever again.

The gaping of molasses.

I mean, Boston baked beans.

What do you think the main ingredient is?

Beans.

Molasses.

Whoa.

First, it's beans.

Where do the beans come from?

Mexico.

See, contrary to what you might think, the molasses flood was not an accident that occurred in some isolated industrial zone.

It wasn't just workers that died here.

Instead, this shoddy-built tank was constructed atop one of the most crowded neighborhoods in the country.

The north end at that time had the same population density as Calcutta, and this neighborhood was also conveniently filled with possible Italian anarchist scapegoats should the tank fail.

Wow.

Wow.

That's also kind of, well, that's just very interesting.

The idea that they're all just this big bubbling thing on top of everybody and they're all just, oh, you know, at the same time, it's like, you remember when MC Hammer built the big house?

On top of the, yeah.

Looking down on Compton?

Yeah.

He did that.

It's like this.

He's like, so then everybody can look up.

to the big bucket and think about what this bucket has brought to our people and how important molasses is to the United States economy.

Also, it brought absolutely nothing to the people because that the molasses was mostly worked by Irishmen.

But they don't know that they're they don't understand that maybe.

And if you're worried about anarchists blowing up your big bucket, put the big bucket in the middle of the anarchist neighborhood, they ain't going to blow it up.

Exactly.

Then they're going to start working, start understanding, oh my God, you're going to start flipping anarchists to capitalists every day, being like, this is what molasses can provide for you.

This is the kind of future that molasses can bring to you and your families.

Have you ever thought about coming to work for Big Bucket?

I see your energy and I like what you do.

Have you ever thought working?

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Now, despite all the setbacks Arthur P.

Gel had faced during the construction of the molasses tank, he did indeed pull off the project in time to appease his bosses.

When the steamer owned by the Cuba Distilling Company arrived full of molasses just before New Year's Eve in 1915, one day early, the newly constructed tank in the North End neighborhood easily took 13 feet of molasses without incident.

Oh, yeah, she did.

Oh, yeah.

Backstrap can take 13, 19, 24, whatever.

The worst, honestly, one of the hardest afternoons I had is the one time I took 36 feet.

And I was walking crooked for a couple of days after that one.

I put the ass in molasses.

You want some jerky?

I have it here under my breath.

It's nice and warm.

Reconstituted.

I really want someone to to do some fan art of backstrap molasses.

I want to see backstrap.

I want to see backstrap molasses.

I want to see that realized.

Since the North End tank did not immediately explode upon its inaugural pouring, USIA declared it a success.

This gave the company license to increase its production of industrial alcohol, thereby keeping up with the incredible munitions demands of World War I.

Now, to give you an idea of how much money was on the table here, industrial alcohol made from molasses was, as I said, a key ingredient in the production of gunpowder.

After America finally entered the war in April of 1917, this country produced more than 632 million pounds of gunpowder, equaling the combined production of England and France.

And you can't make that without industrial alcohol made from molasses.

Now at the same time that the USIA was making more and more money off the war, Boston's district attorney was becoming more and more worried about the anarchist threat, and he said so publicly.

The DA claimed that Boston, in particular, was in grave danger from disturbances of, quote, anarchistic bands who hold nightly meetings to plan the eventual destruction of America from within while our eyes were fixed on danger from without.

Again, applying a lot of planning to the anarchists.

Yeah.

Saying that they're very organized.

Well, they they were organized and they did plan.

But it's sort of like Satanists.

When you try to put together a group of satanists and everyone talks about oh these satanist groups and satanist covens and shit where it's like satanists are like herding fucking cats yeah with with reddit flair like this is what we're talking about like they are like they are a group it's hard to put them together i think if the anarchists planned less they'd be more effective yeah dude yeah dude that's with the fucking agents of chaos yeah i think they tried that too yeah sure anarchists kind of try anything yeah it's kind of cool then that way that's cool yeah i

i like i I kind of think fun.

I'd like to hang out with them.

Yeah, I'd like to hang out.

It would be fun to do.

But I am going to go home at night.

Oh, very much, Joe.

I'm not sleeping on a mat.

I mean, I'm paying attacks.

I'm paying my bills.

I'm paying my taxes.

I'm still a small business owner, but at the same time, I like the energy.

Interestingly, it's actually quite difficult to tell which of the industrial accidents at munitions factories during World War I were the work of anarchists and which were merely the result of negligence from capitalist bosses like Arthur P.

Gell.

For example, four days after America declared war on Germany, 116 workers were killed in a massive explosion at the Eddie Stone Ammunition Corporation in Chester, Pennsylvania.

Tragically, the staff at the plant was mostly made up of teenage girls, so they also made up the majority of the victims.

Cute.

I didn't know you could staff a munitions factory with the cast of brats.

All the gossip there must have been brutal.

Oh, yeah.

Back then, the munitions factories were staffed by all manner of children.

Yeah.

Back when kids had spines.

Yes, they need the little fingers to get in the bullet cases.

Now they're allergic to gluten and shit.

Back in the day, kids were building guns.

Kids were awesome.

Well, the blast had originated from the pellet room in the shrapnel building.

Sounds like the most dangerous place on earth in 1917, outside of the actual battlefields of World War I.

Do you want to go talk to Tina and Tiffany?

They're running the shrapnel build.

I can get to this Tina

Middriff girl show in there.

You got the candy necklaces and the big jeans.

Are you in the pellet room today or the glass room?

I'm in the shrapnel area.

It's kind of chaos.

Something Brad started working there.

I work in screws and nails.

I work in poison gas and bitch lumps.

Bitch lumps is the only thing.

But even though there was no proof of anarchist involvement in this explosion, which killed 116 people, the official line from the company and the police was that the Chester explosion was an inside job perpetrated by foreigner anarchists who'd suicide bomb themselves in an attempt to damage the war effort.

Because that was kind of the problem with the anarchists at the time, because anytime something went wrong at a munitions factory or an industry,

the bosses could always say, I was anarchists, and the public, for the most part, would be like, all right, like, I get you.

So this wasn't anarchists.

This was just like them not doing their job right.

As far as we know, it was probably just, it was probably just an accident.

It was probably just, you know, shitty conditions, you know, things weren't safe, so on and so forth.

But the corporations could always say, oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, we didn't fuck up.

The anarchists were the ones who did this.

It's super crucial.

It's a great thing.

And that truly is an American tactic.

Oh, yeah.

Always have that scapegoat.

Always have that enemy.

Now, Arthur P.

Jell did indeed receive that vice president promotion after he got the molasses tank built on time.

But since he was the one who built it, Arthur P.

Gell was also made the tank guy at USIA from there on out.

As such, Jell seemed to take the protection of the tank very seriously.

See, as I said earlier, the tank certainly was a target for anarchists in theory.

So, after the Boston DA sounded the alarm on anarchists and the Chester factory exploded, Arthur P.

Gell hired extra guards and had them sworn in as as special police tasked solely with guarding the molasses.

You will never find a more motivated person than a middle management piece of shit little guy that's looking for any sort of power to give him a reason to flex

power, the reason to be like, oh, now I'm big and bad because I've hired all of these goons because I, and I need to.

Now I have this moral imperative, quote unquote, to hire these goons.

I just imagine like 10 dudes with rifles marching around around a giant bucket.

Someone's trying to put more molasses on the bucket.

Someone shoot that bird.

It's looking at the molasses.

But while Jell was getting so worked up about anarchists, he wasn't paying the least bit of attention to the USIA employees who were stressing day after day that something was very wrong with the North End tank structurally.

In other words, Arthur P.

Jell was very good at appearing as if he gave a shit about the safety of the tank when it came to security.

But if the safety of the tank involved anything that might disrupt production, he didn't want to hear about it.

See, just after Jell hired his extra molasses guards, the tank supervisor's assistant, a guy named Isaac Gonzalez, he gave Jell some distressing news.

While the tank had been doing fine on paper in the two years since it had been built, it had, in reality, leaked molasses from every seam every day from the very beginning.

And that's bad.

That's not good.

It seems like that's good.

You scoop up that leaky molasses.

Do I have to tell everybody how to do that job here?

Use other buckets and put the buckets of molasses back into the bigger bucket.

You, give me that gum, put it in the seam.

The leaks were in fact so consistent that neighborhood children gathered around the base of the very dangerous tank every day to collect molasses in pails and old cans so they could take it home even though it was the shittiest molasses.

You shit that you shoot that street urchin in the head.

You shoot that street urchin in the head.

They're not allowed to eat our industrial weapons grade molasses.

Yeah, your molasses sucks asshole.

Shoot him down.

Shoot him in the dick.

Yeah, fuck you.

Shoot him in.

Shoot him in the hell.

Yeah, I'll see you in hell.

But some of the kids, they just bring sticks to the tank.

They would

dip their sticks into the puddles of molasses that gathered on the ground around the tank and once dipped the children would slurp the sticky bittersweet syrup straight from the source i better not eat all this syrup at once i gotta take it back to my wife and kids

and then every one of them lived to 100

these are the ones that are like

they always what's his name the old guy that used to go talk to the old people what's his name child of george birds the guy from the the front that used to do 100 when you got to be

George Willard?

George Willard.

This is just showing up.

Brother Scott.

They're always these are the people that are like, Yeah, I was there for the great molasses.

What in 1919?

I launched it from my apartment.

Every day I have a glass of whiskey, one cigar.

Like, it's my favorite type of old person.

I spent mornings as a child sitting in a molasses puddle and just eating bucket after bucket of molasses.

I can't watch it.

I poured it into my mouth.

My mother, she washed rags for the gun makers.

Now, by 1918, the leaks were only getting worse.

Because after production of industrial alcohol reached peak wartime levels that year, the tank reached its 2 million-gallon limit seven times.

And the tank would vibrate and groan every time a new shipment of molasses was pumped in from the Cuban steamers.

No, that's the tank breathing.

That's the tank settling.

Now, the leaks and vibrations and groans, they terrified the aforementioned tank supervisor's assistant, Isaac Gonzalez.

Gonzalez, in fact, became so worried about the tank's safety that after work, he would return to the site at all hours of the night just to ensure that the whole thing hadn't exploded while he was gone.

The man couldn't sleep.

Please, hold your tank.

Come with his hands against the tank,

staring at him like with a sheer force of will.

Please do not let this sweet death come upon the wonderful city of Boston.

But in the end, all Gonzales could personally do was spread sand around the base of the tank to keep the molasses from flowing too far into the neighborhood.

Or he'd be sent out to chase off the kids when too many began gathering around the molasses puddles.

This just reminds me of whoever was Gerard Depridoux's assistant for so long.

You know what I mean?

Just like waking up every day being like, I pray to God Gerard hasn't pissed in another airplane.

I pray to God.

Tell me, Mr.

Jeff Wardu, tell me that

you didn't attack another actress.

Did you, you know?

Filled with molasses.

Now, with all his other duties, Gonzalez said that it was becoming impossible for him to take care of the increasing amounts of leaking molasses.

So he went above his boss's head straight to Arthur P.

Gel to air his concerns.

Predictably, though, even when Gonzalez brought flakes of rusty steel to Arthur P.

Jell from inside the tank, proof that the structure was weakening, he had to meet, he threw the pieces of steel at him.

He's just sitting there going like, you know, smoking his long cigar.

No, Jell waved off his concerns.

Jell told Gonzalez that some leaking was normal for any tank of that size.

Everything leaks, you should follow me around for a day.

You worry about how that tank's leaking.

You should see how I'm leaking.

You should worry about your own leaking.

Plug it up.

That's what I say.

If it's leaking, plug it up.

So, Jell told Gonzalez that if he knew what was good for him, he'd best focus on keeping all those pesky Italian children from trespassing on USIA property.

If I was you, I'd get a couple of other buckets.

Here we have to fill up the main bucket.

Fill those buckets up with Ricotti.

Save them on the tree line.

Let the kids attack the buckets of Ricotti.

I think it's the only way to do it.

We got to distract them.

Attack the buckets of Ricotone, and then when you do, do you know what a Molotov cocktail is?

Then you set them on fire one by one.

No, all at once.

I'm trying to tell you how to do this efficiently in the corporate USIA way.

Gonzalez was not the only person who noticed that something was wrong with the tank.

Everyone did.

Moaned.

The tank was screaming.

We're gonna die soon.

During the summer of 1918, a fellow worker said that it sounded as if the molasses was bubbling or boiling from the heat.

And another worker said that he liked leaning against the tank because the vibrations caused by the movement of the molasses were strong enough to ease his back pain.

It was his fucking massage chair.

Yeah, my wife likes it too, Fabia.

She rubs her clitoris against it.

We're all loving the new tank, Mr.

Jell.

Everybody's coming by, rubbing their butt on the vibrating tank.

Nothing's wrong with it.

Each one of these soldiers will come three times today.

But Jel, meanwhile, again made a predictable, if pointedly aggressive, move.

Instead of addressing Isaac Gonzalez's concerns about the leaks, Jell brought in a crew to repaint the tank a rusty brown color so as to make the tank itself indistinguishable from the molasses seeping from its seams.

I mean that does work.

It's an amazing move.

That's called the landlord move.

I don't know if anybody's had mold in their apartment in New York City.

Oh yeah.

Oh yeah.

They just paint over that shit.

I remember one time our fucking fridge at Hooters was all fucked up and then we didn't have the money to replace it.

So I just got a bunch of metallic paint and painted the fridge metallic.

And I'm like, it looks great.

Fucking food.

Inspection pass.

That's where food was.

They're like, made it brown.

Oh, you got brown streaks on it.

That's the problem with streaks of brown.

You paint the whole damn thing brown.

That's how you hide it right there.

Look at it.

It's all molasses there.

Now, this targeted fuck you.

This was the last straw for Gonzalez because he obviously knew this was pointed straight at him.

Yeah, so I'm going to go volunteer for World War I.

That's exactly what he did.

He was like, I would rather work.

I would rather die in the fields of Flanders than work for USIA for another fucking second.

I saw too many guys lose their noses and eyes for me to not say, I gotta be in there.

Yeah.

And what Gonzalez didn't know was that by the time he returned to Boston in March of 1919, his worst fears about the tank would indeed have come true.

Now the molasses tank surprisingly made it through the war, but just as World War I was winding down, the Spanish flu began ripping its way through the North End.

In Boston, so many people died of the flu that circus tents were used to cover the stacks of unburied coffins left in the local cemeteries because gravediggers had become scarce.

And because circuses are fun.

They get distracted by how fun all the corpses must be having inside the circus, they're not worried about burying them.

You heard of a flea circus?

It's a flu circus.

Yeah, it's fun to do, right?

It's a funny old joke.

USIA and Arthur P.

Gell, they couldn't have cared less about the people who were dying in the pandemic.

They were far more concerned that the deaths of their workers were disrupting their production schedules at the same time that production demands were dropping due to the end of the war.

So the pressure on USIA is increasing.

Now, the extra pressure being put on the tank for all those years as a result of munitions production, that would have probably subsided after the war, thereby saving dozens of lives and Boston's West End by dumb luck.

But that wasn't how USIA wanted to play it.

See, like any big corporation, USIA was desperate to keep its profits ever climbing at all times, no matter what.

So the company's executives believed that their operation could switch back to producing grain alcohol for rum to keep the bottom line rising.

But there was another major shift in American history that would contribute directly to a sudden and massive increase in the tank's capacity and therefore the tank's destruction.

That shift, ironically, was prohibition.

Oh, wow, that makes so much sense.

It's so funny how, like, it is just the truth.

I know that we were making fun of you, but it is wild that all of this.

One thing to the next, to the next, to the next.

You can't explain what happened here without going all the way back to fucking 1600s.

Well, I didn't realize that until I was trying to tell Eddie about it the other day, and he just kept asking questions.

Oh, no, it's a problem.

It's the issue.

You can just say a man built the bucket that failed.

You know what I mean?

You can just say that, but it doesn't really make sense.

Now, the temperance movement had been trying to ban alcohol in America since 1893.

But this movement finally found its footing during World War I.

Anti-German sentiment had swept the nation during the war.

And since the majority of beer brewers had German heritage, the temperance movement successfully used the war to further prohibition.

They would say, a glass of beer is a glass for the Kaiser.

So ban alcohol.

We already beat them.

Leave us alone.

No, but anyway, you know, prohibition was a massive.

They had gotten people over to their side during the war.

So by the time the war was over, there were already all these people that were like, yeah, yeah, prohibition.

Sounds like a fucking great idea.

Let's do it.

Now, Arthur P.

Jell and the USIA, they knew that if the 18th Amendment banning alcohol was ratified, they'd have a one-year grace period until the law finally came into effect in early 1920.

That meant that they had a very narrow window to distill as much grain alcohol as possible in the first quarter of 1919, because that gave them enough time to ship the alcohol to brewers who could make their products and distribute them to saloons and stores before they were all closed by prohibition.

Serendipitously, there was indeed a huge shipment of molasses expected to arrive from Cuba in mid-January 1919.

So the USIA gave orders to fill the North End molasses tank to absolute capacity, higher if need be, in order to keep profits going for as long as possible.

That shipment of molasses, of course, would be the one that would brutally kill 21 people in a crushing wave of sweet, sticky, viscous liquid.

And that is where we'll pick back up next week for the disaster itself.

And I promise you, when we come back next week, these people are going to drown.

They're going to drown thickly.

They're going to drown badly.

And we're going to tell you all about it.

It's more the crushing than the drowning.

Crushing and drowning.

And I would say more suffocation than drowning.

I think drowning is just a more aquatic version of suffocating.

It is.

It is.

It is.

It is.

But it's more.

Suffocating is more when your mouth is covered and you can't.

Aquaman drowns.

Yeah.

Drowning is.

When a widow suffocates.

Drowning is when your lungs fill with water.

Suffocation is just when it's covered.

So I think suffocation would be more appropriate.

Unfortunately, the bucket will die in the beginning of next episode.

So just know that.

Dress that.

Get the giant bucket.

Yeah,

the bucket is, yeah.

That's number one.

Well, I mean, technically, the first death is Thomas DeFratis.

I'm saying no one's blaming the molasses.

Well, it's not the molasses' fault.

Yeah.

Do you blame the tiger?

Do you blame the lion?

Yes.

Sometimes.

Okay, fine.

Do you blame the alligator?

Do you blame

the orca?

Yeah.

He's just like, he's just like slamming things.

He just likes flaming flaming face.

It's true.

He does like assigning blanks.

All this talk about thick, thicky brown liquid is really making me have to take an absolutely massive shit.

Oh, nice.

Oh, patreon.com/slash last podcast on the left.

You can go join our Patreon.

If you want to see the pained look on Henry's face right now as he keeps that turtle head in.

I am my own giant Boston-based bucket.

You can also

chock full to the brim with human-made molasses.

You know, the more jokes you make, the longer this is going to take.

I know.

You can also watch Last Stream on the Left live if you are a Patreon member.

That is every Tuesday at 6 p.m.

PST.

Don't forget to follow us on our socials at...

LP on the Left on TikTok and Instagram.

And don't forget to go check out all our new YouTube channels, Someplace Underneath, LPN Romanticy, Who's the Bee, the Foreign Report, No Dogs in Space, and of course, LPN TV at large for those wonderful, wonderful programs like Funhouse and HGX2.

We're all coming back to see, you know, we have a bunch of announcements also coming up of material that we are currently working on that I think you're really gonna fucking like.

Trying some new shit.

Got some cool shit coming up, and don't forget to come see us on tour.

Can't wait to see y'all out there

across America.

We'll see you tonight at Wise Guys in Salt Lake City.

No, no, that's if they, you know, it depends.

It depends on who they are.

Yeah, it depends.

But, you know, we are coming to Charlotte, Durham, St.

Paul, Milwaukee, Oakland, Cleveland, and Portland this year.

So come see us on the road.

You can get tickets at lastpodcastontheleft.com.

Yeah, go to lastpodcastontheleft.com and follow the ticket link from there.

I think we need to make a PSA.

The people out there need to understand in America how to buy concert tickets.

Don't just click on the first link that comes up because it's going to be the crazy expensive one.

Go find the venue website.

Go to the actual artist website first and then follow that link from there.

and get reasonable prices for your tickets.

Because we can't fight StubHub.

I don't know what to do about that.

Yeah, StubHub, all all of them.

Like all the fucking middlemen.

We can't fight it.

We can't do it.

We can only do what we can do, which is tell you, go to the website.

And please come see us out on the road.

Because we love doing it, but performing live.

We love it, absolutely.

Hail, sweet Satan.

I love you.

No one, Hail Gein.

Hail, backstrap, molest.

Yeah,

lovers.

Yeah, hail, my big ass.

I picked up another shift Wednesdays, noon to six.

Hey, what if I just shit on you?

What's poppin' listeners?

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We got them.

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We've got them too.

Guys that will wine and dine you and then steal all your coins.

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Join the congregation and listen to Scam Goddess wherever you get your podcasts.

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