Extra Evil

Extra Evil - Accordion.01

Voyage.07

Omens

Earthquakes don't get easier with experience.

We've lost our pointless invasion mojo.

Andrew Tate wasn't in jail already.

FIFA's streamlining World Cup bribery.

France was always on fire, ignore climate myth.

Salad still leaves more dramatically than it enters.

Mirage

"Addicting" says they're in on it.

Announcements

I wrote this beside an unexpected accordion concert. If it's better than usual, credit to the polkasmiths of New York.

Have a few million in venture capital floating around? Because microblogging is still up for grabs.

It should be fun. It could be fun. We just have "short posts" chained to a conflict engine, a sewage funnel, and an eternal panic attack. Feel free to move the labels around the three, depending on who you vote for.

To be fair, microblogging enthusiasts don't deserve better. Our sins are many and grim. If we disappeared, man might have already conquered the stars. Microblogging does for cyberbullying what trampolines do for sick flips.

But it's also pretty funny. Given the chance.

Alternatively: the architects of Mastodon could rob a bank, and get that UI into the mid-2010's. In fact, that sounds like the best option. I'll drive the car if you'll be the gunner.

I've mentioned this before: one of my coffee injection sites has a weekly stand-up event. And I've come to admire them. The entire effort is doomed by setting, audience, timing, and talent. And yet persists, charging at a wall of angry MacBooks like trench infantry. That kind of liver-punching failure builds immortal performers or immortal misanthropy. Or both, crafting that Doug Stanhope flavor. I hope it never ends, and rarely miss it.

I'll write about the BurgerShock nonsense later. I'm still processing modern life's weirdness. That, and I'm trying not to get my hopes up. I've had fifteen minutes in print and film before, and I think I sold three extra books off it. Maybe four. And those audiences had attention spans.

You know that item tucked in the middle of every week's to-do list? That film, phone call, chore, or experimental drug you've put off forever? I'm writing a column on mine this week. It is, without spoilers, about a very special deck of cards. And part one of two.

Note: I reserve the right for this not to happen. Infinite demands, finite time, etc.

Entertainment

Ultima Lucha Tres, Parts 2&3: I wish they'd been paid to make this. (4.5/5)

Blondie For Victory: The most confused WWII propaganda I've seen.

Casino

How to Dodge a Cannonball persists.

Blondie thirsts for blood.

A million people watched this stupid, stupid video.

Dunk tanks have a fun history.

Nonsponsor

A brief break from cursed dolls (though I do enjoy a bit of toy horror as much as any other future mental patient). I ran into a bit of outdoor that I...liked.

Liked. And it's deodorant, a category of advertising cursed for generations.

I enjoy it, without some kind of complicated reverse-triple-irony. The sign benefits immensely from the fact that someone's always perched there like a lazy, sweaty Batman. Though I can't give them full credit for that accident, I can give them credit for turning the subway's special morning scent into profit.

My inner hater reminds me that this reeks of local pandering, and that the implicit meaning is muddled by being in Union Square (ie., not in or near Grand Central). I'll let my inner hater go, for a moment. You can't let it drive for too long without becoming a revenant. Or op-ed columnist.

Creativity: B+| Persuasion: C+ | Sanity: B-