I’m finding that the hardest part of getting older isn’t the large failures of my physical form (many of which can be at least mitigated or managed ), but the small, inexplicable, bullshit ones. Take, for example, The Itch. A week ago I woke up with a steady itching in my arms and legs that hasn’t stopped since. For added fun, it also sometimes migrates to my head, stomach, and back.
I ruled out all the usual suspects, then went to urgent care, where they ruled out all the usual suspects, shrugged and said, “These things, they happen. You want some prednisone and industrial-strength Benadryl?”
Now I’m still itchy, but I’m kind of too stoned to care. If the quality of writing falls of a cliff at the end of this newsletter, it’s because the next super-Benadryl has kicked in.
Anyway, I had so much fun doing the Don’t Worry Darling explainer that I thought I’d do another scandal explanation, but then roughly fifty scandals happened at once, and I was like, Oh. This is A TREND.
I guess it isn’t surprising—people (at least in the U.S.) have realized that the pandemic isn’t really going to end, nuclear war is a trending topic, and Civil Society is one missed Xanax from a full-on breakdown. Why not do the stupidest fucking thing you can think of?
Wide World of Sports (Cheaters)
Like stuff a fish full of lead weights:
I guess fishing-tournament cheating is enough of a problem that other contests require polygraph tests? I can’t believe so many men in camo sweatshirts and wraparound sunglasses may not be scrupulously honest!
Or you could accuse an opponent (to whom you lost) of cheating! Maybe accuse another opponent (to whom you also lost) of cheating!
I’ll be honest, I don’t know enough about poker or chess to even understand these cheating scandals. (Although I really think it’s another sign of the complete breakdown of, well, everything that multiple “legitimate” news sources reported that the chess kid was rumored to be using a vibrating anal plug for cheating purposes. It took me three minutes to source this rumor to a joke comment on some other chess guy’s Twitch stream. Nice job, journalism.) But I think losing and immediately going boo, they’re cheating! without proof is a playground move.
What I’m saying is: they should cut their opponents open and check for lead weights.
Don’t shit where you eat
Perhaps you want to combine your job and personal life into an all-consuming inferno of dumbfuckery? I have some templates for you here as well.
First up we have (probably soon-to-be-former) Boston Celtics coach Ime Udoka, who was suspended for the year by team leadership for doing…something.
He had a relationship with a female employee, which is not great, but doesn’t usually warrant a year-long punishment. Then it was reported that he’d said something “unwanted” to the staffer, which brings us closer to the “uh, she lawyered up so we had to actually do something” territory signified by a year’s suspension.
The latest news—and I just have to quote this directly— is that he used “verbiage … that was deemed especially concerning coming from a workplace superior.” It’s characterized as “crude language,” which, I guess, could mean threatening or sexually explicit, but definitely means legally actionable.
Celtics owner Wyc Grousbeck said, "This felt right, but there's no clear guidelines for any of this," he said. "It's conscience and gut feel. ... We collectively came to this and got there but it was not clear what to do but it was clear something substantial needed to be done, and it was,” which I can exclusively translate as We’re just trying to lose the smallest amount of money possible here, guys.
Next, of course, we have Ned Fulmer, a man I’m sure most of you had not heard of before this week and probably wish you still hadn’t heard of now.
Ned, in case this was your week for a nervous breakdown and you missed it, cheated on his wife. Here are a couple of good explainers about the situation. I don’t have a lot to add that hasn’t already been said. I watch one of the Try Guys series’ (“Without a Recipe”) because I find it amusing, and when I saw the rumors I was like, “Hmm, bummer,” but that was about it. I was quite surprised to see it explode across the internet as quickly and widely as it did. Here are my theories as to how it turned into The Perfect Storm of Messiness:
The pandemic. Yes, I know I keep blaming everything on the pandemic. But I saw multiple people mention that they binged Try Guys videos during lockdown and while I know that the cool kids all roll their eyes at parasocial relationships these days, they were all a lot of people had for much of 2020. So: Audience over-identification, check.
Context collapse. That’s a fancy academic term for the way the internet and social media have mashed up the multiple versions of ourselves (friend, spouse, coworker, erotic fanfiction writer, etc.) into one big mess where we can wind up trying (and failing) to present one unified, unproblematic image of ourself to everyone.
Social media stars who build their brands around their lives and personalities essentially make a career out of context collapse. So instead of, “Ned Fulmer cheated on his wife , now she and their friends are mad at him,” you get, “Ned Fulmer cheated on his wife , now she and their friends and eight million subscribers who have heard nothing for a decade but much he loves his wife are mad at him.”
Salaciousness. Where the Ime Udoka story is shrouded in mystery, this one has details galore, and each one is more cringe-worthy than the last. Fulmer cheated on his wife, who is an employee of the company he co-founded, with another employee of the company he co-founded, who was engaged to someone who was, amazingly, not employed by the company he co-founded. So we have a boss cheating on his co-worker/spouse with a subordinate. Then you learn that he founded the company with three of his best friends. Then you learn that the significant-others of those friends are also all employed by the Try Guys brand, and you realize that Ned Fulmer is probably living in a van down by the river right now.
Good old schadenfreude. I am not afraid to admit that a solid third of my personality is made up of looking at people like, um, everyone mentioned so far in this post, and thinking, Well, at least I’m not that guy. (And, given The Itch, my not-being-Ned-Fulmer was a real high point this week.) I know I’m not the only one.
Get that cash, darling
If for some reason you don’t want to lose your livelihood and friends, may I suggest the tried and true low-grade messiness of shading your workplace?
Kiki Layne, you’re up:
Truly, Don’t Worry Darling is the mess that keeps on messing. I sincerely hope that society holds together long enough for us to get an oral history of the production from everyone involved (even the ferret-man). Can that be our new “Save the Planet”? “Think of the Gossip?” Come on people, let’s solve global warming. There’s so much more messiness to look forward to!