MALONE-MAIL No. 18: Everything Happens So Much
Whew, this week – and let's face it, the whole time we've been apart, you and I, dear reader – has been a wild one. But at the very least, I'm happy to say that through a byzantine web of two-hour multi-party phone calls to apple and 12 hours of trial-and-error file-transfers yesterday, I was able to recover almost all of the files I lost earlier in the week when my hard drive decided to bite the dust. Hooray for digital trauma!
In all seriousness, though, luckily this week has also been a very heartening one, because so many of y'all sent me such lovely, lovely messages about the essay I published earlier this week (see below). It truly made all the difference (and also made me very emosh'), so thank you all for that.
Plus, we were #blessed with this Kanye tweet. I mean, can you really top this?
What I wrote:
This summer, despite being THE HOTTEST MONTHS OF MY LIFE, GODDAMN, was pretty exciting! Since you and I last hung out in your inbox, (in case you hadn't seen) I wrote about why I quit my job for Jezebel. I wrote an essay for Vice about Reddit's moral meltdown in the wake of its CEO, Ellen Pao, stepping down. I profiled Kristen Schaal for Out Magazine and Evan Peters for NYLON Magazine, and my profile of Kiernan Shipka from earlier this summer, also for NYLON, went online. I started recapping Minority Report and Heroes Reborn for Vulture. Annnnnnnnnd I divined the future of the Rock's career, which went very, very, unusually well.
What I read:
The two best advice columns (one, two) I have read outside of Dear Sugar (possibly including it!). The serious downside of Sesame Street's cashing out. Ayn Rand's If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. YouTube star Issa Rae grapples with her future. Medical students learn empathy from the dead. We are double-plus unfree. "Ernest Hemingway would have died rather than get old. And he did. He shot himself. A short sentence. Anything rather than a long sentence, a life sentence. Death sentences are short and very, very manly." Speaking of women and literary drunks! Living your life as a robot. Unearthing forgotten cold cases. Lololololol, the real estate delusions of my peers. And California, if you didn't already know, is seriously, seriously fucked.
Also, I know this doesn't mean much to anybody but me, but I've been READING BOOKS. AND FINISHING THEM. IT'S CRAZY. The last time I was this literarily productive, my email address was dev100@aol.com and my biggest worry was that my brother got a holographic Charizard Pokémon card in his first booster pack and I didn't. Books I've read and recommend include: Ta-Nehisi Coates' Between the World and Me, Ursula K. LeGuin's A Wizard of Earthsea, Sara Benincasa's D.C. Trip (out in November!), George Saunders' Pastoralia, and a random collection of my superfave Philip K. Dick's short stories. Working through Le Guin' The Left Hand of Darkness and Katherine Dunn's Geek Love now — will report back next time on those.
What I listened to:
If you hate "indie rock" in the abstract but a lot of music you like can be filed under "indie rock," listen to: Beach House's Depression Cherry, All Dogs' Kicking Every Day, Palehound's Dry Food, Aye Nako's The Blackest Eye and Hop Along's Painted Shut.
If you like pop and you don't care who knows it, listen to: Carly Rae Jepsen's E•mo•tion, Chvrches' Every Open Eye, and Peaches' Rub.
If you like hip-hop and are sick of the radio hits on repeat, listen to Boogie's The Reach, Future's DS2 and Spotify's Outkast radio station.
What I watched:
Lordt, I watch a lot of TV. Recently I've been torturing myself with the later seasons of Heroes to brush up before recapping Heroes Reborn for Vulture. Before that, though, I was devouring the first three seasons of Damages (all terrifying and highly recommended), keeping up faithfully with the faithless Masters of Sex (I won't lie, I would have walked if it wasn't for the Lizzy Caplan and Josh Charles Have a Mutually Respectful, Totally Grown-Up Relationship plot), and getting suuuuper-paranoid with the delightfully refreshing (if a little Fight Club-y) Mr. Robot.
Anyway, other than that, I've mostly been hanging out with my dog a lot, going in pools, and sending my (and my poor roommates') energy bill skyrocketing as I plant myself squarely in front of our house's air conditioning units.
P.S. (Parting Shot):
THIS. PORCUPINE. WATCH THE VIDEO. SOUND IS MANDATORY. YOU WILL NOT BE DISAPPOINTED. Second only to yum-yum kitten. (Shout-out to my girl Lauren for this. Why aren't you following Lauren? Or reading her column? You should be.)
S.P.S. (Supplementary Parting Shot):
The other night I attended Pop-Up Magazine, a really spectacular live-journalism show. I thought I'd like it well enough, considering it's in my magazine-journalist-nerd niche, but seriously, every performance (it's basically a variety show of stories told by writers, photographers, artists, etc.) is so unique and enchanting and brilliantly constructed that I was not bored once. It's a really special show — and they're on tour! So if you're in or near Portland, Seattle, Chicago or New York, check it out for sure.
Aided by Manual Cinema (the coolest thing ever, btw), New York Times Magazine staff writer (and all-around unicorn person) Jenna Wortham read us a story about an iPhone — as seen the eyes of a man with brain damage.