Today’s Fortune: Remember to appreciate the newsletters close to you.
Economists put two of each animal on a ship.
LA’s city council leaked the perfect comedy sketch.
NASA shot a pool cue across the galaxy.
Hundreds of Iranian protestors tripped into bullets.
True Crime podcasters descended on Kerala like locusts.
This fall’s retro fad: antisemitism.
Advice columns haven’t gone extinct (see my Ethicist parody), but their cultural footprint’s shrunk. Despite my intifada against gurus of all types, I find that a little disappointing. There’s something about an Adderal -powered editorial assistant writing as “Greeat-Aunt Agnes” that captures the madness of human life. I appreciate kayfabe, wherever it appears.
Or maybe I’ve read Mrs. Lonelyhearts too many times. Either way.
The leaves are changing, the birds are fleeing south, and there are thirty births and engagements in my inbox.
I don’t feel behind. Partially because I don’t want kids or debt, but mostly because I checked off divorce before leaving my Mom’s house or insurance. That’s efficiency. That’s a powerhouse. I’m on a level reserved for Mormons and reality tv stars.
Besides, I just published a four paragraph Batista joke. I’d say my priorities are in order.
On Monday, I drifted downtown to watch Raw live. I love every variation of fake fighting, and I wasn’t going to miss the Hollywood edition of the Action Circus. Especially when I had a friend capable of playing and winning scalper chicken.
On the way in, a talking uniform with a rich and fulfilling personal life decided my bracelet was a weapon. Par for the course, but other demographics strode through security with every object needed for an ECW title match.
Not my ideal opener. I’ve lived in EagleLand long enough to understand and follow an arbitrary rule. It’s somewhere between a skill and Pavlovian conditioning. But when the rule only applies to the back of the bus, I still feel my teeth grind each other down.
The episode delivered. Nice note for my final trip there.
Physical therapy is delivering. The doctor’s excellent: I think the hovering threat of an endless army of chiropractic con men keeps her sharp.
This month, my column covers Gene Simmons’s son plagiarizing Bleach. Reading it makes you stronger.
Learn to wage skillfull digital warfareer.
This Bill Maher riff isn’t, but I had fun with it.
Here’s a scene from every office building in America.
My debut 1-900-HOTDOG feature is still a trip.
One of my sillier shorts just found a home. Keep an eye out.
A few setbacks in other projects. We keep rolling.
One Sentence Reviews
An Evening Wasted with Tom Lehrer: I spent thirty years thinking Dr. Demento wrote “Poisoning Pigeons in the Park.” (4.5/5)
Ali Siddiq – It’s Bigger Than These Bars: An interesting man in an interesting setting tells boring jokes. (2.5/5)
Harley Quinn (Season 3): Bets the farm on drama and folds. (3/5)
What’s your mid-life crisis look like?
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