Extra Evil - With Feeling

Today’s Fortune: The comet's almost here.

Dec 27, 2023

Newsreel

Substack took a stand against just kidding.

Apple learned we take patents more seriously than slavery.

Rogue hospitals were brought to justice.

Arizona fundamentalists outsourced hate to Uganda.

Xi Jinping encouraged Taiwanese voters to consider Xi Jinping.

We may hit 2040’s climate forecast by January.

Today's Mood

War Journal

Ever heard of the call of the void? It’s the passing, intrusive urge to hop out of a nearby window. Nothing rooted in despair/madness/regular news consumption. Just a flicker of imagination.

I get a boring, media-bobblehead version. While real ones think about cartwheeling into trains, I wonder how quickly I could blow up my own life. I wouldn’t need many words, or even keystrokes. Not to brag, but I could probably do it in emoji.

It’s a fleeting thought, I’m doing fine. But the sheer ease of virtual hara-kiri is striking. How many famous breakdowns were just people indulging a Camus moment?

Every couple in my orbit’s detonating at once. I might go back inside. Christmas and I were the only common factors, and the holiday’s already over.

As Earth changes/burns, I finally appreciate familiar sensations. Old comics. Classic games. Tech figureheads defending nazi recruitment drives. Whatever happens, I’ll always enjoy someone’s best Moot impression. I wonder if Substack will still exist for me to write about the next one.

In case you didn’t waste your childhood: Moot ran 4chan, and left the door open the eugenics fan club. I’d tell the rest of the story, but you can catch a rerun now.

I’ve given enough thoughtful, useful, or fun presents. This year I added trash. Personalized trash. A Tim Buckley anthology for an artist. A Bleach t-shirt for a weeb with taste. A faded copy of Bill O’Reilly’s No-Spin Zone for a sane adult. Six other packages from the netherworld.

No idea how they liked it. But I had a great time.

The Present

My Christmas punchlines/navel-gazing/flashback.

Five of my paywalled 1900HOTDOG articles went free! Consume the flesh.

They're going to ban me from the Subway eventually.

The first volley of my holiday barrage.

Everything Abridged can make it better.

The Past

I’m told this old Modern Love pitch is worthwhile.

The Future

This year’s the big one. Just like last year was the big one, but for real this time. Unless it’s next year.

But really: this novel, column, and newsletter are the opening I’ve wanted since I could write full sentences. Hopefully I’ve improved a little since then.

I promise: I’ll either impress you, or spin out hilariously.

Not Brought to You By

Harley-Davidson! Power. Grit. Preppy couples. Baking.

No, really:

The copy isn’t very Live to Ride, Ride to Live. It says “Now, for what you probably have hidden in the cookie jar, you can have the new Harley-Davidson M-50.”

And she’s holding a cookie jar.

This genre of literalist semi-joke thrives in old ads, and I can’t tell you why. It’s the branding version of Stonehenge, or a crop circle. There are legitimate answers, but I lose focus halfway through.

My real point: brands change. A lot. Don’t be surprised if you see a Ben & Jerry’s mascot with a flag-colored gatling gun in twenty years.

Creativity: C-
Persuasion: C
Sanity: D