Extra Evil - Mixed Message Arts

Today’s Fortune: Don't trust anyone in shoes.

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Newsreel

Florida limited child indoctrination to schools.

Arizona pledged to cover childcare for just kidding.

Astronomers and eye doctors got busy.

Troops withdrew from Gaza’s crater.

Larry David left MAX to its fate.

Tesla led a new era in fatality lawsuit settlements.

Today's Mood

War Journal

Earthquakes are like your birthday—they tell your life’s full cast to call in unison. I slept right through New York’s shudder. But the outreach dragged me awake twice. Like some kind of sudden, violent shock. I’ll find a line later.

Yet not one call during the eclipse. Aren’t those more foreboding? Physical peril is whatever, but eclipses say the line between worlds is thin. I could’ve been possessed or isekai’d, and no one bothered to check. Rude.

I tend to be an opinion factory. I’d say it comes with the job, but it’s definitely the other way around.

As an opinion factory, I outlined a bit of comedy about optimizing every attosecond of life. And another satire about staring at the ceiling and hoping something happens.

Fine stuff, independently. Together, I wonder what I’m asking people to do. It’s a little muddled. All I know is that everyone working less is lazy, and everyone working more is a tool. It feels good to be born perfect, like all Juvenalian satirists before me.

As an eternal eavesdropper, I caught an argument over happy endings. Rider One considered them mandatory, and Rider Two considered them poison. The debate could have ended a few ways.

Rider One could have clutched their heart and died.

Rider Two could have confessed their love for Rider One.

Riders One could have lifted a baby, and said its Rider Two’s.

Rider Two could have jumped back in time to the start of the debate.

Rider One could have agreed to disagree, but quietly harbored relationship-poisoning resentment.

Rider Two could have missed their stop.

They both could’ve gotten into style exercises.

All of these sound fun to me. It’s just spin.

The Present

The legends didn’t lie: Marijuana is real. [1900HOTDOG]

The first day on the job is everything. [Exclusive Evil]

Want creative payback? Sorry. [1900HOTDOG]

I didn't know that shade of pink was real.[1900HOTDOG]

Everything Abridged is a reason unto itself. [My Book]

The Past

I love this dumb, dumb joke.

The Future

Between you, me, and the sky? I might slow down a little next month. The tank’s low. That said, I sent out a lob I’m proud of. Hopefully the powers that be bite.

Not Brought to You By

Remember that ads are (mostly) expensive. Agencies charge by their mood. They usually feel like retiring early and wealthy, with as little busywork as possible. Understandable.

Here’s a 1974 ad by a fancy New York ad agency, for the Jamaica Tourism Board.

Okay, we read on phones and in our imaginations. Let’s zoom a little closer.

Still too small for human eyes? So spoiled.

Fair ad, for imperial citizens. The angle’s dirt basic (“Jamaica is warm, be warm”), but the writing around that cliche has something to it. It is, in terms of getting on base, what the target audience wants to hear. Maybe that’s worth the money.

Though it’s grim knowing the country off resort grounds. The empire’s vacation home doesn’t leave much room for dreams. But who’s leaving resort grounds? One love, or whateverthefuck.

This is, in baseball terms, a colony in all but name. Bunt! I meant bunt. This is a bunt.

Creativity: D
Persuasion: C+
Sanity: C-

One Sentence Reviews

Mother Night - Can this power be taught? (5/5)

Martha Kelly - It’s Never Too Early to Go Back to Bed: Nice cardboard joke. (3/5)

Open Question

Signing off

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