Extra Evil - Fingers Crossed Twice

Today’s Fortune: Don't dance on graves before they're full.

Sep 25, 2024

Newsreel

Conscription age searches went up.

Porn comments went down.

Visa’s legal fees went up.

Mike Johnson’s self-esteem went down.

Eric Adams’s number came up.

ISS astronauts came down.

Today's Mood

War Journal

I just rewatched a personal favorite film’s English dub. I can’t make fun of Shaw Bros. dubs anymore, because the game hasn’t improved. The Raid came out in 2011, in an irreversibly connected world, and the dub still sounds like my cousin doing improv between whip-its. Go figure.

After two articles on vengeance feeling hollow, I’m cackling at Eric Adams like a hyena on meth. Don’t take my advice. Don’t even retain it. Just extract the jokes, hear a nice story, and move on with your day. Anything else is the dead leading the blind.

It’s a golden moment. I haven’t been this excited for a black man’s arrest since dad. If anything of substance comes of it, I’ll throw a party that burns down half of Bay Ridge. You call that a riot, but I call it civic pride.

Two weddings next month. After that, no more unpaid cameos. I have a rate and no attention span. Even if I’m standing at the altar, someone’s paying.

Apologies to anyone that enjoys my consistency: the debugged, fully-drawn, real-ending-having version of Hades 2 is almost out. I’ll…be underwater for a litte bit.

The Present

The Past

An earlier piece about my friend Eric.

The Future

I’m gonna clean up the Oklahoma business soon. And finally print the stupid fake ads. If you know a cheapish printer in New York (or have a fancy printer lying around), let me know.

Not Brought to You By

Turns out vintage gym ads are a pain in the ass to collect. Let’s start with the present.

Remember that time the world died? Something about a virus. Gold’s Gym Indonesia took a relatable, and quietly insane, approach.

You can flop around at home! You could never have figured that out.

“This seems worthless,” you might think. And it is! But after months struggling to turn claw marks into abs, Gold’s might be burned into your memory. And you might associate home gyms with glurge and failure. I suspect a bit of daemonic ambition here.

In short, it’s passive-aggressively slick. A little opportunistic, given Ragnarok, but what are ya gonna do?

Creativity: B+ | Persuasion: A- | Sanity: D (Everyone is dying)

Note: Granted, these could be straight pandering, without a galaxy-brain strategy. But I say we live in the funniest of all possible worlds.