Extra Evil: The Way of All Flesh

Subscribing to Extra Evil makes it rain.

Today’s Fortune:  Love’s worth it’s weight in gold. Pay the ransom.


Putin saved the bunker industry.

Twenty thousand readers searched “Special Master” in unison.

The Times released their annual quality op-ed.

Clearview offered public defenders equal access to the panopticon.

An app lets you fight food waste by buying rotting fruit.

DeSantis defended attaching migrants to ACME rockets.

War Journal

It’s my birthday week , and my back hurts. The stock nature of the joke isn’t lost on me. But it’s also happening, and remains hilarious.

Hopefully this is “abusing my body for kicks” back pain and not “genetically predetermined collapse” back pain. We’ll see.


I decided to shake the cobwebs off of my street art by mocking the dead. If that sounds immature, you weren’t around when I was 25. Here’s the result;

Not bad, Blind Monkey. It’ll be good to deserve the next stretch of bad luck.


It’s been busy lately, which is good news for a writer. Otherwise, you’re just unemployed.


I grew up with a rational, if anachronistic, fear of nuclear annihilation. Then I forgot to grow out of it.

It hasn’t happened, unless  The Animatrix already played out. But it has made me appreciate simply being here. in a twisted way, every day feels like a nice surprise.

I’m going to endeavor to shake off one or two mental cobwebs. It’s been a bit too long. Good brooding needs variety, and I’ve been playing the hits for a few months.

Besides, I’m down twenty pounds. I’d do great in the fight pits.

The Present

The best gift you could get me is your own copy of Everything Abridged .


I may not be Bill Maher’s biggest fan.


Come to my learning tree, and discover Mark Millar’s greatest sin.


This Exclusive Evil article makes you more attractive.


Let someone else try first contact.

The Past

This is still my favorite short of mine.

The Future

The column is coming along nicely.


I’ve sold another bit of nonsense to The New Yorker. The lights stay on another night.


Fingers crossed on some wide swings.

One Sentence Reviews

The Space Merchants: Somehow micro-targeted to me decades before my birth. (4/5)

Futurama – Season One: Explainably micro-targeted towards me a few years in. (5/5)

Aliens Area; Uneven, but there’s something distinct hiding in here. (3/5)

Plague God – Absent in Body: It’s half of Amenra doing Amenra. (3.5/5)

Bitch Planet: We’re not getting a third volume, are we? (4/5)

Sam Moril – Same Time Tomorrow: Reliable, like the tides. (3.5/5)

Open Question

What did you get me?

Signing off

Thanks for reading Extra Evil, the newsletter defending Hell’s Kitchen. Share it for justice.


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