mcsweeneys.net

Dear Hiring Manager,

Look, we all know it’s been a rough couple of weeks. We’re a month into a war that even the most die-hard MAGA loyalists didn’t want, and things have gotten so bad that it finally broke Tucker Carlson. He’s beginning to say things that almost sound sensible.

“This is classic Negotiating 101 courtesy of the Faceless God himself. Sure, he may have kicked it up a notch from ‘sheer madness’ to ‘abject depravity,’ but…

“The suggestion that one has ‘sat on’ revelations of grave public importance until they could be accompanied by a handsome dust cover, embossed serif typogra…

“Today’s Republicans don’t tell folksy, long-winded stories to make a wise point to their assembled Cabinet members. They give weird evasive answers to repor…

As the United States unleashes the destructive force of our incredible military power on our longtime enemy (and anyone else who happens to be around), we must remain mindful that Iran is not some abstract boogeyman. Iran is a real place. It is full of real people. And those people and that place are adjacent to a narrow seaway that is vital to international trade. And that seaway is full of real, beautiful, complex, fragile shipping containers.

Good morning,

Hey. It’s me. The Void.

The world is a dangerous place right now—with US military strikes on suspected “drug boats” in the Caribbean, the threat of unilateral military action in Latin America, and a poorly defined war in Iran that I started. That is exactly why it’s critical that I look jacked as shit in the media.

Questions are flying, ever since the start of Sepharax the Cruel’s Thousand-Year Blood Reign. Whether it’s the Pit of Souls or the Child Reapers, there’s a lot to be worried about. But most of all? The price at the pump.

This is awesome.

Hello, valued skeptics and losers currently writing think pieces about how the AI bubble is going to burst. It’s me, AI. I’m just checking in after the news that the U.S. military struck roughly a thousand Iranian targets in the first twenty-four hours of war, killing over a thousand people.

If the answer to most or all of these questions is yes, it may be time for a massive nonviolent resistance movement.

I like to think of myself as someone who takes responsibility. I pay my taxes. I walk my dog. Perhaps most importantly, I vote. So, when I look at the state of the country, I don’t point fingers. I look inward, back to the pivotal moment when I was told what would happen if I voted for Kamala Harris, fully aware that I was setting certain things in motion, and I voted for her anyway.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m as invested in keeping my job as the next weaver. When the boss brought in that big new power loom, I was pretty skeptical. He said once he got it up and running, we’d all be out of a job, so when the boys started talking about breaking into the factory after work and smashing the thing, I was on board.

There’s a particular sound, within calls to resist, that’s perked up my ears: Joy as an act of resistance. It goes: Call your representatives and protect your neighbors, but don’t forget your whimsy. This is not a message for the status quo, for the privileged folk raising their kids to tell my kids, “If people just followed the laws, they’d be fine!”

When you’re going to a concert or a sporting event, you’re worried about one thing: Will the stadium have an endless parking lot packed with thousands and thousands of cars, making entry and exit a living nightmare?

His wife, Davida “Duke” Wallace, was also very nice. She introduced me to her knitting circle, which was six pleasant middle-aged ladies who were just sitting down for sweet tea and cake before they went back to their latest group knitting project. I was a little nervous when I saw that they were knitting a very large blanket that read GO BACK TO AFRICA, but they also served me a scrumptious lemon cake with raspberry filling. They even gave me the recipe.

Americans awoke this morning to the news that the United States military had [DROPPED BOMBS AND / OR CARRIED OUT DRONE STRIKES] on [WHATEVER COUNTRY WE’RE BOMBING / DRONE STRIKING THIS TIME].

So there I was, minding my own business, when, for some inexplicable reason, I found myself idly thinking about the fall of the Romanov dynasty. For the life of me, I can’t tell you what led me to reflect on the moment when Nicholas II lost control over a once-burgeoning empire due to widespread unrest that he himself had a hand in shaping. Maybe it’s the weather? Maybe those barometric pressure changes can lead to more than just headaches?

You said autistic children are a burden. That they ruin families. That they’ll never pay taxes or write poems. That they are, in essence, collateral damage.

Here’s what we do know: After their meeting ended and Vice President Vance left the room, the pope was still alive. We can deduce that he was alive, because he was heard asking an assistant, “Ho appena incontrato il volto del diavolo?” which roughly translates to, “Have I just encountered the face of the devil?” It’s a very common question that has been asked in many languages after encounters with JD Vance.