And So It Begins... Again. I wrote this 2 years ago, then bilateral malaise recurred.
The Greatest Newsletter in the Tri-state area (informal poll of several family members) on politics, sports, foods which annoy me and whatever other random nonsense I feel like writing about.
Before I started this column, I was a board-certified writer of witty, intra-office emails.
I also post very deep thoughts, ruminations, and lyrical rants on a website about politics, but the royalties from that venture are not keeping up with the lay a way payments on my Technic Lego Porsche 911 GT2. Plus, the moderation algorithm continues to bully my comments into purgatory — out of sheer pettiness — and that makes me cross. Because if I can’t post my anonymous comments, then … well, nothing, but it buuuurns us, Precious. A vexing burn.
As you can see, my bona fides are impressive. Not just anybody can open a Substack page and just start spewing forth unregulated content. Wait. They can? That’s a bit deflating. So I re-took that Wonderlic test for nothing?
If you are receiving this email (actually, I was too lazy to input even my family’s emails during the set up process, so I think you’ll have to affirmatively visit this page by mistake in order to read this), it is because you have been identified as a person of interest in the Jan 6 Insurrection and are likely wearing a dual beer dispensing buffalo helmet right now while hand-loading ammo in your tastefully decorated doom prep bunker. This is your punishment.
I am a Renaissance Man, learned in a wide range of human endeavors, from breakfast cereal to the Augustinian Just Road Rage Theory to the inviolable Food Commandments (condiments are not in God’s plan, fruit does not go on pizza, never eat mystery crumbs off the carpet even if you are within the 5 Second Rule and certain they came from our delectable slice of Entenmann’s Crumb Cake because there remains a chance they came from your daughter’s fecund guinea pig), to the Dutch Masters (Cruyff, De Bruyne, etc.) to why Jordan is infinitely better than LeBron and if you disagree, you should be forced to date AOC. Accordingly, this is going to be some high brow stuff.
All of this and more (Query: do high beams attract more bugs, or just illuminate more bugs that were already there? We’ll ask the IPCC to weigh in.) we will cover in the coming days and weeks when my end stage slothfulness — I’m taking shark cartilage and Texas Superfood intravenously — does not prevent me from writing something. We may even tackle some Christian theology — wait, don’t flee! We’ll have engaging, dramatic skits which incorporate CRT best practices — and I’ll share my James Beard-nominated recipe for egg drop Ramen. (The key: double MSG, no kale.)
Hope you’ll stick around. We may have an Adventures of Jen Rubin week; horror stories about my childhood when my Mom, on a health kick, fed me and my sisters carob (“Hey kids, it tastes just like chocolate, if chocolate tasted like melted weather stripping and caused the same unpleasant gastrointestinal symptoms as Olestra!”) and, in a Dickensian flourish, gave us honey wheat germ — parsed out by the tea spoon, because honey wheat germ gluttony is a real problem — on our generic shredded wheat squares.
See you back here soon for actual content no one requested or desires. But in the spirit of our present moment of Gooder and Harder government, I feel compelled to provide it against your wishes.
Cheers.