Extra Evil - Metal > Oxygen
Today’s Fortune: Some new riffs will probably solve it.

Newsreel
FEMA’s down to one bucket.
The deescalation’s late.
Stagnation and collapse polled closely.
Jimmy Carter turned 100, and could be an option.
The CCP planned to counter central planning.
The ESA played asteroid pool.
Today's Mood

War Journal
Ignore my complaints about leaving Earth. I can’t live on a planet without blast beats.

The shoulder drama’s winding down, which leaves me at a crossroads. Reenter the benighted hell of gyms I don’t’ live in, or store a straight bar in an NYC closet. The latter’s intolerable, and currently in the lead.
Scapegoat sugar all you want. If you had to deal with gym crowds to read, we’d have an illiteracy epidemic. A bigger one.
As for my brain? I’m working on patience. When networking-pidgin comes up, I tend to float away. Live or digital, stranger or spouse, my brain enters the astral realm and returns in a different year. Someone subtler could get away with it, but a child can read my poker face. I’d like to be a bit nicer about it.
But 2024 Dennard, isn’t that what 1991-2023 Dennard recommends? Yeah, but he’s a dick. Most people alive aren’t pro or amateur communicators. They’re probably nervous about whatever has them talking like a LinkedIn ad. Be easy.
Good job, superego. Now get id on board.

Health-wise, the standing desk might be a godsend, nothing, or voodoo. I inhale too much fake sugar to judge. But easily switching levels is a writing miracle. A free reset button for my brain. Without it, this newsletter would be biweekly. No, the other biweekly.

Deadlock! Serial rapist vs. Android, and three illiterates in a swing state haven’t decided. High pressure, isn’t it?
I have a suggestion. Any faction can take it. You can win the entire malcontent lobby over, with no extra effort. Sound nice?
It’s a small military reform. During any bombing, the Commander in Chief rides the first explosive down like Major Kong. Not a footsoldier. Not an aide. Not the vice-governor of Nowhere. You. The blue suit in the big chair.
I can be a proud, loyal citizen. Just show me some skin in the game. And bone. And brain. And appendix.
The Present
- Fun with the Playboy Bunny Employee Manual. [1900HOTDOG]
- Somehow, a Naruto recap is my longest work. [Weeaboo Hell]
- Another love letter to the mayor. [Exclusive Evil]
- A legal and optimistic prank. [Exclusive Evil]
- Is oxygen woke? [1900HOTDOG]
- The Uzumakiad meets its Nero. [Weeaboo Hell]
- I wonder if Virgin Extinction Island has a tourism board. [1900HOTDOG]
- My birthday Q&A. [Exclusive Evil]
- Everything Abridged takes you higher. [My Book]
The Past
Meet the president, the president, and the president.
The Future
Pitched stuff. We wait.
Not Brought to You By
Here’s an interesting one. Match leaned into Hinge drawing singles that talk about reading more than they read. Which shows much more audience awareness than I planned on giving them credit for. It’s annoying, really. I came to write insults. Match parried by writing love stories.
Why not? When you compete with yourself, there’s room for experiments. In their shoes, I’d offer comp subscriptions for medical testing. But “No Ordinary Love” plays better.

The angle: Hinge-centric stories by top literary namedrops. Writers that come up in, well, Hinge profiles. Audience retention is the goal as often as outreach. The stories are adapted from real-ish Hinge couples, if you’re the type that matters to.
Are they good? It doesn’t matter. For the signs, it’s enough that they exist. “If you’re an urbane commuter with a dim memory of reading for enlightenment or fun, get Hinge. If not, we run the other three as well.”
It’s a sharp idea. I hate it.
Creativity: A- | Persuasion: B- | Sanity: C
One Sentence Reviews
Undeath – More Insane: Calm music for calm minds. (4.5/5)
Blood Incantation – Absolute Everywhere: For me. (5/5)
Joker Some Shit Subtitle: So determined to be great it forgets to be good. (0.5/5)
Cosplay World: Half repetitive, half intriguing. (2.5/5)
Easy Question
Harder Question

Signing off
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