Extra Evil: Imperial Decline and You

Subscribing to Extra Evil is the future.

Today’s Fortune:  Inhale deeply before sticking your head in the sand.


Every line of Leviticus is now an amendment.

Russia banned the first 25 letters.

Protestors and stormtroopers caught up over lunch.

Boris Johnson limped toward the end of the populist life cycle.

Reports say Shanghai is fine, in flames, a utopia, drowning in fields of the dead, and so-so.

Rocket Lab caught a booster rocket with a helicopter, in case you needed to smile.

War Journal

In twenty days I’ll be an author. Not an aspiring , future, or wannabe author, but the genuine impoverished article.

I almost quit a few times, which I discussed in this dangerously saccharine post. And then I actually quit a few times.

Now that I’ve switched lanes, I’ve noticed one change: people found “ad writer” much cooler. Thanks, Don.


Since physical privacy’s been ruled legal vapor, we can go back to “testing” LSD on people. I look forward to learning if my landlord can smile.

Legal note: I’m kidding. If my landlord overdoses,  they just snorted too much of my money at once. You’ve gotta pace yourself.


If you cup your ears, you can hear a rhythmic clatter. That’s every pundit in the nation racing for the dumbest spin possible. Each key tamped in unison, except backspace.

The Present

Clarkesworld’s Arley Sorg put up a great interview with me. I sound like a human being, instead of a walking FromSoft billboard.


The Baffler put up one of my favorite stories I’ve ever written.


 I’m still in love with this riff I wrote on 1-900-HOTDOG.  It’s about the dumbest/most brilliant book on race put to print.


Weeaboo Hell’s not dead, my co-host’s just dealing with some medical business. Survival comes before ninja jokes. Mostly.


Wonder what my voice sounds like, but think anime’s for failures? Come to my book launch. An interesting change to the line-up on the way.

 The Past

When I was waist-high, my family left me asleep in the car on the way to the aquarium. Not a punishment, by accident. I like to think that heatstroke shaped me as a thinker.

The Future

My book will sort the worthy from the damned on the 24th.


I’m about two weeks out from another prank. It’s one of the most ambitious to date, and I’m hopeful that it’ll leave a bigger scar on our collective brain than usual.


Open question: are there any alternatives to Creative Capital for pitching “out there” creative projects/activist stunts? I have a fun one, complete with a board-friendly presentation, related to Mayor Tweed’s general treatment of the homeless. But it costs more than my usual stickers.


Looking for the right home for that long-awaited video project.

One Sentence Reviews

Tig Notaro – Drawn: Turns out Shorties Watching Shorties is better without the shorties. (4/5)

Tig Notaro – Live: A test case in gallows humor. (5/5)

Moses Storm – Trash White: Fun destinations, inconsistent journeys. (3/5)

Jerrod Carmichael – Rothaniel: A high point in the current “One Man Show in a hat” wave. (3.5/5)

Ludacris – Red Light District: I’m much dumber than I thought. (4.5/5)

Signing off

Thanks for reading Extra Evil, the newsletter slipping between realities. Prod the heart button to save me.


Parting question: What is best in life?