Extra Evil - Aspartame Birthday Cake

Today’s Fortune: Don't let reality ruin a good story.

---

Newsreel

Congress remains divided on existing.

Hospital-seeking missiles polled poorly.

Alabama ruled Cabbage Patch dolls children.

Nikki Haley promised to fight on against windmills.

We’re doing the birth rate articles again.

Analysis of Antarctic ice revealed it’s gone.

Today's Mood

War Journal

We’re almost at 1000 subscribers—we should crack it next the time I slander a Supreme Court justice. I’ll give some thought to a celebratory post. We’ll probably hit 2000 before I do it, but planning’s nice.

For once, my addictive streak’s on my side. I haven’t missed a Wednesday post in years. The withdrawal would probably kill me.

I’ve gotten advice from smarter people. Paywalled archives. Free everything. Paywall everything. Paywall the archives. Ghost. Write in morse code. Go back to zines.

But all of that’s change, and I think we all know how terrifying that is. Besides, imagine all the clicking on my end. I’m already on one of those lunatic multi-phase sleep programs. Just by accident.

This week’s title is nonsense. They’d use Maltitol.

Sometimes, when deadlines take over, I descend into a half protein-trash diet. I’d fret, but stock writer habits are worse.

Online pile-ons fizzle often. Successful burnings stand out, but plenty of witch hunts produce nothing, or even backfire. I’d like to pitch a name for those moments.

Reverse Ukuleles.

If that joke means nothing, you’re crushing it. Carry on. YouTube is dark and full of terrors.

The Present

I wrote a column about the Creation Museum’s attempt at a Night at the Muesum parody.

I'm surprised there wasn't a math section.

You must go into the box.

They say Miss Martin is still encouraging elopements today.

Everything Abridged does your taxes for you.

The Past

An article about gettting MORALLY JACKED.

The Future

Interested in an old essay about a strange job? I spent an nanosecond in fashion, and found a cartoon version of The Devil Wears Prada.

Not Brought to You By

Celebrity ads make sense. Half of today’s fandoms should get tax breaks. If The Rock shilled Cheetos, you’d see plenty of orange teeth.

The catch? Companies get lazy. Or try too hard. It’s always the wrong amount of effort.

Take Megan Thee Stallion. Quality rapper, thriving cult. How can we waste that?

Meet Mother Fitness. A Planet Fitness genie? On a cloud?

The idea is stapling her fandom’s tone to Planet Fitness. But the Planet Fitness brand is insecurity. They go together like oil and world peace. Leading to nonsense.

But there’s viewer involvement! You can do the advertising for them. Which, as we’ve seen, always wins me over.

This is my dead horse, but I’ll beat it again:

I will not download with a house.
I will not download with a mouse.
I’ll never get your campaign app.
Piss off.

Creativity: D+
Persuasion: D-
Sanity: D

One Sentence Reviews

Velvet (Vol. 3): I’m a deacon in the cult of Brubaker. (4/5)

How to Take Over the World: Both inventive and a total throwback. (3.5/5)

Open Question

Signing off

Thanks for reading Extra Evil, the newsletter beating the clock. Share it to arrive first.