Extra Evil: Written at 4 AM

Today’s Fortune: Don't drink alone. Enjoy your bleach with friends.

Today’s Fortune: Don’t drink alone. Enjoy your bleach with friends.

Newsreel

Netflix says your ex doesn’t deserve that password.

Eric Adams warned that phones attract NYPD bullets.

Pundits suggested that Zelenskyy click a pair of ruby slippers together.

Kamala waits.

Florida banned books with vowels.

Something about catastrophic antarctic whatever.

War Journal

Back in writer daycare, a workshop teacher thanked my class for writing stories with sex. Reportedly, his last few workshops had a PG-13 ethos. They mass-produced arsons, beheadings, and strangulations, but no hookups.

I wonder if that trend endured. I still read plenty of new books, and the hookup count remains strong. There are slightly fewer in 2022 than 2021, but 2021 saw a notable hookup uptick from 2020. Of course, this is anecdotal. We need some kind of official stat for prom night scenes in fiction.

Prof was a smart guy, so I’ll take his concerns seriously. If he’s right, and sex scenes are endangered, a piece of our literary history is in danger. Our national memory, and thus conscience, could wither. More professors should follow his lead, and push for sex scenes in art.

In short, colleges need to save hookup culture.

As you can see, I miss stand-up.

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Dumb jokes aside, I’ve been pushing hard lately. My copy of Elden Ring, which finally works, is still essentially untouched. This could mean I’ve finally learned discipline. Or that it’s not quite as good as Bloodborne.

The Present

On Weeaboo Hell, the Uzumakiad marches on.

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I talked about modern love in The New Yorker. Not to be confused with Modern Love in The New York Times. I’ve submitted, but radio silence.

 The Past

Here’s The New York Post trying to understand what I do and why.

The Future

Every day,  Everything Abridged comes closer to conquering our world.

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I might delay the prank to jump past April Fool’s Day. Don’t want to get drowned out and all that. And I scarcely see the point of a prank that’s expected.

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I promise the documentary is real.

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I’ve got a Slackjaw article hitting sometime this week.

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I think I’m starting the Patreon this week. This newsletter’s staying free, because I’m not a bandit. But I think you’ll like the perks on offer.

One Sentence Reviews

The Tenants: Only slightly more nightmarish than my first apartment. (4.5/5)

Uncle Tom’s Cabin (Stage Script): Perfection itself, no notes. (5/5)

Black Magick (Vol. 2): “A cop that’s a witch” is a hard pitch to screw up. (3/5)

C4 (Beverage): I refuse to believe this isn’t cocaine and expired syrup. (2/5)

Signing off

Thanks for reading Extra Evil, the newsletter that types itself.

-DD