I was just cleaning out some old email from the “starred” folder in my Gmail account. And in that folder, starred, I found an email from myself, sent at 2:01 in the afternoon on July 5, 2017, which I present to you here in its entirety:
SUBJECT LINE: angry! COMPLETE UNALTERED TEXT: not the short end of the stick so much as the pointy end thought they were gone, but they were just getting new sticks
I’ve been thinking about this for upward of eight minutes, and still have no idea what I meant. It almost sounds profound? At least, I’m sure I thought it was profound when I emailed it to myself.
I tried googling “what happened on July 5, 2017,” but I’m fairly certain I was not angry because Arsenal FC broke a club transfer record paying €53m for Lyon striker Alexandre Lacazette; I recognize that many of those are English words, but beyond that I don’t know what they mean. I tried searching my Twitter history, because surely I must have been angry enough about this pointy stick thing to have posted about it — angry!, with an exclamation point! — but my only Twitter activity from July 5, 2017 was:
So I thought, why not open it up to some crowdsourcing? PLEASE TELL ME WHY I WAS ANGRY, WHO IS GETTING POKED WITH STICKS AND WHO IS DOING THE POKING, I NEED HELP. Seriously, because it’s driving me up the fucking wall.
By the way, remember when I quit my job last year and was all “I’m gonna start a magazine!”? Probably not, because why would you; there’s been some bigger shit going on in the world. Anyway: I started a magazine! And not just me! We have a publisher, and there is a masthead, and a real website, and A+ socialist principles, and we have already started paying writers real sums of money, and you can subscribe right now or sign up for our (free!) newsletter. No pressure. But you should do it.