Several Commonwealth nations don’t like that description.
Lynching’s hip again, but only if they smell.
Entitled guild writers want to make enough to avoid lynching.
We may run out of people before bullets.
Florida replaced textbooks with puppets.
An oil executive is running a U.N. climate summit, and stealing food from my table.
Everything Else, Round 5
War is merciless, cruel, and demands multiple Post Office trips. But you’ve made it rewarding. Jokes aside, this was one of my favorite rounds. People are slowly learning I’m replaceable.
Here's Round IV’s winner of Everything Abridged in paperback:
He hasn’t gotten back to me yet. I’ll try sending more money.
Now, this week’s definition:
To be clear: define “Arzz’krghll” in a comment and be funnier than other people, and you win a book. The best book, in all the book-reading lands.
Seeing Four Loko at the Museum of Failure confused me for a moment. I knew I liked it, but couldn’t remember ever drinking it.
It took me a bit to figure that one out.
What’s your worst trait?
Or rather, the worst one you’re aware of and care about. Most flaws go unacknowledged from the cradle to grave. Otherwise therapists would be unemployed and the U.N. would be a book club.
Mine’s the image above. “Git Gud,” not the contest. If you spent your childhood outside, it deflects complaints about games with “You just suck, apply yourself.” The just world fallacy, but for fighting game combos. The contemporary version is “skill issue,” which has a cattiness I admire. I still prefer “attain quality,” since it’s closest to a grad school version of “Git Gud.”
It’s not helpful.
I let it ride in its original context, i.e. gaming, because the stakes are low. Picking games that reward skill/obsession/luck only hurts a growing controller-shaped dent in my wall. And I get to tell confused dates I beat Ikaruga.
The problem, of course, is keeping it out of everything else. A persistent, noxious voice in my head greets real-life problems with “Ever considered eating less shit? If you don’t practice volcano awareness, you don’t deserve a house.” I think Princeton admissions saw it as a feature.
It lends my personal arc a little humor. Dennard at 25 would sit down with Dennard at 26, put an arm on his shoulder, and say “Stop being a bitch. Everyone has a mom, and all of them die. Why aren’t we writing for SNL yet?”
At the very least, git-gud-syndrome gives me some political empathy. Because if one ethos captures modern conservatives (the sane ones, not the Nazi crowd), it’s “Git Gud.” That’s the Twitch chat version of the Libertarian Party platform.
In short, here’s a fun sentence: my non-empathy gives me empathy for the non-empathy of the non-empathetic. I hope you empathize.
There’s a little historical precedent to George Carlin paring down the Seven Deadly Sins. There were once nine “evil thoughts” that got pared down to eight sins. Despair had a full slot. I guess it rooms with sloth now.
In defense of the Church (my best friend), putting sadness next to murder was harsh. It’s a little “Git Gud.”
Marking Juneteenth while the prisons are still open is really funny.
The new Expensive Evil is half free, and good ish. Join the swarm.
I told The New Yorker that I’m not into planes.
This has my favorite sign-off of my 1-900-HOTDOG guest spot so far.
Though I had plenty of fun with the Purity Movement's self-appointed martyrs.
Stop me if you’ve heard this: my book’s called Everything Abridged.
My sibling’s feed may have inspired this.
I’m taking an impulse tilt at a competitive event. I’ll let you know how it goes. Unless I don’t dominate, in which case you’ll never hear about it again.
I have a podcast idea, but I have to do some writing to make sure it doesn’t suck.
One Sentence Reviews
Maria Bamford - The Burning Bridges Tour: Bamford Year One holds up. (4.5/5)
America - The Book: Changed the coffee table book game. (4/5)
Foodfight!: My punishment for a fallen life. (0/5)
Taylor Tomlinson - Quarter Life Crisis: Never quite takes off. (2.5/5)
Thanks for reading Extra Evil, the newsletter lost in thought. Share to slap it awake.
My worst self-harming trait is the belief that I'm only as good as my contribution. If I'm not getting something done, I'm worthless. Everyone deserves downtime except for me, all that. I blame working retail. I never had this achievements fetish until I entered the world of "if you got time to lean, you got time to clean."
My deadly sin is gluttony, always. I love food. I take so much pleasure in eating. Not stuffing myself eating, but my idea of Heaven is a tasting menu with endless courses.