“I don’t go to the party. I let the party come to me . . . so, ah, I’m basically just sittin’ here . . . I get stuff on this screen. I just read this thing about a ‘loneliness epidemic.’ Sounded weird, at first, but I think it makes sense. And then I watched this video where this rich bald guy on this podcast was telling people to go out and get shitfaced at parties to meet new people. ‘Make some stupid decisions,’ this guy said. So, uh, then on a subsequent episode the host guy who interviewed the rich-bald-stupid-decisions-guy actually went out to some parties over the course of a month and, well, most everybody was on their screens. The host guy drank a little bit, hit his weed vape a bit-it just wasn’t a party feeling. Not anywhere this guy went. The host guy tried it out with college kids, with some office karaoke types, with these old married guys who drink beer and shoot pool at a bowling alley, with a bunch of people who worked at a hospital, just a whole lotta nothin’. The hospital people had their faces all blurred because they had all this truly primo opioid shit they’d liberated from the pharmacy-so they were all floated-the-Christ-out by 1:15am, kinda no stamina with that bunch, but definitely feelin’ no pain. The college kids were barely even partying, just snorting Adderall to tighten up for study screen time during a somnolent DJ set in the brightly lit dorm basement. The students were all seated in a tidy arrangement of desks, full fluorescents blazing overhead, grinding away at keyboards and touch screens. The host guy reminisced about how back at the turn of the millennium everyone was partying their faces off like they were a bunch of fraternity assholes-even the art students and the theatre kids like himself. The office karaoke types were basically five people who watched two people do all the singing, with little to no variation in the set list. This one lady who just watched said they used to vary up their routine, but over the years they found the perfect set of songs, and if they deviated from that perfected lineup of 1980s & 1990s classics people were at risk of panic attacks and anxiety episodes and so forth. The host guy kept offering to do “My Way” and “Pink Pony Club,” but, well, neither of those songs were ever on the set list so no joy. The old guys playing pool were strictly interested in playing pool, and being away from their wives-those old dudes didn’t even know each other’s names! On the plus side, they didn’t have any screens on ‘em-except one guy had a flip phone that he hated but his better half insisted that he keep it on his person at all times. The aged pool sharks barely even looked each other in the eyes. “Faces distract,” this one silver haired hustler said, presumably referring to his gaming technique, which made sense to me . . . so, uh, later on . . . I find this other video of the rich bald guy talking about his daily rich bald guy routine. He talked about how he rarely went out, how he had his home office profits-to-profits pipeline worked out like a fucking equation . . . and I keep waiting for someone to ask him why he would recommend other people go out and party when he himself never did. No one asked. I watched some more videos with this rich bald guy to try to make sense of his seemingly insincere advice . . . but I think it’s all there on the surface. The rich bald guy goes on podcasts, says stuff, and people listen to him because he’s rich. He just says what sounds good in the context of whatever host he’s addressing, and tries to pander to the presumed audience demographic attached to that particular host at that particular time. Sometimes he tells people to all be Stoics. Other times he’s pro-Hysterics. On the left-wing podcast he criticizes the excesses of capitalism, says he would be happy to pay a higher tax rate. On the right-wing podcast he extols the virtues of the free market system and the individual free agent. On the free form chatty casts he rambles about his marriages and divorces. On the crypto coin show he gets super granular and focused on the foolish wagers and the sure bets and the differences between the two . . . at a certain point . . . I realized that this guy . . . was just another bald rich guy . . . and so I moved on to True Crime . . . and then UFOs . . . retro video games . . . audio-only Neo-Jungian analysis . . . audio-only ASMR . . . someone once told me that faces distract . . .”
