much too much Ma
HOW I KNOW I AM BECOMING (MILDLY) DEPRESSED
I get angry at inanimate objects, to the point of semi-believing that they are thwarting me intentionally. Stupid cockshitting pissfucker of a jar lid that won’t come off. Goddamn this piece of shit dickfart pen that fell out of my hand on the ground. I swear to Christ I’m going set this ass-sucking package of limpdick crackers on fire. (I only say these sorts of things in my head, or if I’m home alone, as even depressed and angry me is not in the business of ruining everyone else’s peace like a demented Mean Grandpa.)
Frankly comical and stereotypical self-pity thoughts like “No one cares about me.” This is not only objectively untrue, it’s something neither my depressed self or my normal self even believes! It is a ridiculous thing to say, not only because it’s a ridiculous thing to say, but also because it’s a ridiculous thing to say! If you know what I mean.
Thinking about quitting my job daily, if not hourly. Checking the 401k and calculating withdrawal rates. Pricing out open-market health insurance. Making absolutely sure the camera is off and giving Johnny-Cash-style middle fingers to the Zoom meeting. (Quitting would be such a dumb financial move, by the way. Nothing is objectively terrible, I’ve just lost all my FIRE my BURNING DESIRE, big black shape with eyes of FIRE. I am just not all that into our group success or even my career victories or my professional reputation. Feeling the mortality a little too strongly to cheer on the team, coach. Don’t put me in, this bench is WARM.
EVEN WHEN I’M BUMMED OUT THINGS ARE KINDA ALL RIGHT THOUGH
In an argument (with myself) about good art vs bad art vs bad-faith art I had a Linus in the pumpkin patch moment where I decided it all came down to sincerity, which is not the same thing as believing in yourself. And that people confuse that with authenticity all the time. Like, imagine Eminem was his artistic self in every other way (the whole output is the same) but he grew up middle class. Or even wealthy. Imagine you didn’t know this.* You’d still hear that unhinged rage and those descriptions of great violence and think, “This guy means it. He is at the very least familiar with these overwhelming violent emotions if not these literal actions.” That is why Eminem is not ridiculous, even if in theory he kind of is. He can still perform this kind of thing even as a wealthy 50-year-old and make you believe it, because he’s been there (emotionally).
*Things might change in your mind if you do know this. That’s a whole other argument.
Fuck, I meant to make a larger point about art and sincerity and it ended up just sounding like a panegyric to Eminem. Future generations will read this and be like: what the fuck were you on about. Mimi we had no idea you were Eminem’s #1, we’ve barely ever heard you talk about Eminem but you somehow typed an AP English Writing Extended Response about Eminem. Wild.
To which I say: you can swap in Trent Reznor if you wish, it works the same.
WE PAUSE NOW TO SAY
Metaloaf: The Meatloaf Made of Meatloaf
Edible Idea: The Thrice-Baked Potato (“Bakes You Back”)
Lasagna: So Many Funny Ways To Say It
QUANTIFICATION OF THE THING I DO WHEN I SHOULD BE DOING OTHER THINGS
There is no way I will make it to 200 books this year, although it is closer than it’s ever been (average about 150 books a year according to spreadsheet book data collected since 2020). I think it is safe to call it and list the ones with yellow highlighting, meaning they stood out in some way.
- Pastoralia, George Saunders (a re-read, but how can you not give it a gold star every time)
- The Hypocrite, Jo Hamya
- Ballad of a Small Player, Lawrence Osborne (I may have mentioned him before, but he writes these crazy old Orientalist novels of crime and lassitude, usually set in the exotic tropics, all humid tuxedos, drunken protagonists, and socialites turning up dead. Gambling and ghosts and prostitutes and seafood. Fantastic stuff.)
- The Heart in Winter, Kevin Barry
- Unretouchable, Sofia Szamosi (graphic novel)
- Grey Dog, Elliot Gish
- Leonard and Hungry Paul, Ronan Hession
- Nonfiction: A Novel, Julie Myerson
- We Play Ourselves, Jen Silverman
- North Woods, Daniel Mason
- The Mystery of Mrs. Christie, Heather Terrell
- This Sweet Sickness, Patricia Highsmith
- Feh: A Memoir, Shalom Auslander
- Ill Will, Dan Chaon
- Mount Chicago, Adam Levin
Goodbye 2025, hope we all had fun.
—mimi smartypants is walking through walls in the heart of December.