Your prodigal son returns.
I’m back 😬
Now if you remember, a few weeks ago I explained that I (and This is bullshit and so can you) is (are?) going through a bit of an identity crisis. Don’t recall? Refresh your memory here.
As promised, I have gone back to the drawing board. And I’m going to split This is bullshit and so can you into two separate newsletters: one focused on OCD/mental health content and another focused on edutainment/explainers/general bullshit.
I’m working on this now. I’ll send another email in 3-4 weeks once I’m done spinning all this up, so be on the lookout for that.
In my next email, I’m going to outline a This is bullshit and so can you game plan—and in it, I’ll discuss what I want this thing to turn into in the next one, two, 500+ years.
As Substack’s #1 food and recipe writer (don’t fact check that), I’m constantly on the internet. What’s tough, though, is that I hate the internet. To be fair, I hate most things—it’s what makes me so pleasant to be around.
I also hate the metaverse. I hate NFTs, Twitter, TikTok, Zuckerberg’s stupid face, Tesla fanboys, people who hate Tesla fanboys… and to be honest I’m not convinced I don’t hate you.
Now let me question you this question: have you seen American History X? TikTok feels like the digital equivalent of that scene where Edward Norton curb stomps a guy. In this analogy I guess Edward Norton is ByteDance, I’m the guy getting curb stomped, and the curb is that a-b-c-d-e-eff-you and your mom and your sister and your job TikTok trend.
But it’s not like Facebook is any better. It seems like whenever I venture into Zuck’s universe, the algorithm either serves me videos of wild animals fighting each other or fentanyl addiction ads.
And now let me question you this other question: have you heard of peak oil? It’s this theory where at some point we will reach peak oil production and the extraction of petroleum will permanently decrease. Or something. I don’t really know much about it or if we’ve hit it or will ever hit it. But I do wonder if we’ve hit peak culture—I wonder if we will forever be on a cultural decline. Maybe the first season of How to with John Wilson was peak culture and the rest of human existence will just be short-form video doom-scrolling and fentanyl addiction ads.
Or maybe the answer is just #MoreNewsletters. If we’re to believe Substack and the $65 million they raised from dem boiz at Andreessen Horowitz, the future of media is BRIGHT.
Although—I’m getting prettyyyy tired of those ✋ Five tips to grow your newsletter! 🤯 emails. I miss the good ol’ days when you could just open up a garment store on the Lower East Side. Maybe you became insanely wealthy and had a liberal arts college named after you or maybe your child got whooping cough and died.
I just think the explosion of newsletters is bizarre. I feel like Substack has inadvertently created an environment where it’s just a bunch of writers sending each other the same $5 back and forth.
And it’s not like Medium is any better—Medium appears to just be a sad sack of people screaming and weeping and begging for 100 followers so they can make eight cents from Medium’s Partner Program.
But according to Forbes/Fast Company/a16z/my uncle Gary—this is the golden age of the creator economy. 🤷♂️🏆💰
And now a quick sidebar (as if this isn’t already an absolute schlep of an email)—what the fuck am I doing? This? Really? This is what I’m spending my time doing? I could be building houses for Habitat for Humanity but instead I’m tip-tapping away at something called This is bullshit and so can you. My grandpa immigrated to America and spent four decades working on the railroad so his grandson could do the digital media equivalent of fingerpopping his own asshole.
I’ve recently been tossing around the idea of just becoming a farmer so I could worry about real things instead—like drought, or mice, or seeds. Farmers still use seeds, right? But if I stick with This is bullshit and so can you, I’ll need to do this whole newsletter thing a bit differently. Differently and dumber. If I ever try to monetize this thing, maybe I’ll just send you seeds in the mail. Or guns. Y’all like guns?
This email is almost over, I promise. Just one more thing:
I think writing a newsletter is a lot like being a bird. I’m the daddy bird and you are my bird children. And every week, I vomit into your mouth. But as a thank you for my warm, nourishing puke, you occasionally just chirp fuck you and nut tap me on your way out.
I just think the relationship between a writer and a subscriber is all mucked up. I say: Thank you for subscribing. No. Fuck that. Fuck you. Thank me for you subscribing.
All I do is give, give, give. I spend my time worrying if my piece comparing my OCD to Mambo No. 5 will resonate with my ‘scribers. I nervously refresh my subscriber count after sending you my open letter to Steph Curry. I incessantly bother my wife: “Do you think they’ll like my y’all like guns joke?” And what do I get in return? Nothing. Where were you last month when my uncle died?
So fuck you guys. I don’t need you.
Anyway—look out for my email in the next few weeks! Much love, much respect. Blessings! ❤️✌️ Blessings!