The show premiered on Sunday night. An asteroid would've landed softer.
The word, as they say, is out.
It is the best and worst show ever. It is ultra serious and a total joke. The show is an expose of the immoral, hedonistic and voyeuristic rot of celebrity worship culture which had become the very fabric from which we wove the dark heart beating at the center of our dying empire. Also, it was the ultimate leap of faith into the bright light of a new, purely moral egalitarianism, embracing the idea that every human being deserved a shot at redemption, the chance to save their very soul, or in our case, to have it saved. A woman was being granted complete agency to decide that for her, showing a disgraced man mercy gives meaning and purpose to her life. Any opinion you wanted to hear you could find 1,000 times with a single click.
We win, they win, we all lose.
We are the light, and we are the dark.
But mostly, Zoe is really, really, really hot.
One episode in and Zoe is so inundated with sponsorship deal offers we had to change the filming schedule so she could have time to be wined and dined by one corporate jackal after another. Contracts were run by their lawyers and her lawyers and then our lawyers and accounting division so that every single cent owed us on every single deal came our way because Zoe Villenueve, as an entertainment entity, is our property.
The Inmates, on the other hand, are forbidden by law to profit in any way, directly or indirectly from their crimes.
We have no such hurdle. I have the prototype Carter Pressman and Big Sam Norwell Funco Pop collectable action figures on my desk. I have the Kit Rubinski Almond scented shower scrub and Darren Craig's BBQ rib seasoning.
Better Help online therapy says “We'll stop the killing before it starts”
Oxyclean Maxxx says there's nothing oxyclean can't get out. NOTHING.
Ziploc brand zip ties say 9 out of 10 human traffickers choose Ziploc.
All the Dating Apps now included Inmates in their dating pools. Playstation is making the official LWSYF video game. Milton Bradley is making a LWSYF board game. The Serial Killer Jeopardy special. Rumors of a Zoe Sextape. Fashion designers embracing “Death Row Chic”. Dicks Sporting goods have mace and tasers with a smiling Charlie McChesky on the box.
We are everywhere. We have people talking. Buzz is an understatement. I learned what the word “Zeitgeist” means. We are poised to be considered a media whirlwind that could in fact create a near unamous public focus approaching a return to monoculture.
Taylor Swift wore a “Zoe is a Badass” t-shirt on Fallon and JJ Abraham's told me at a party that he and Dick Wolf talked about me on the phone and President Trump said he thought everyone on that show should be lined up and shot and also said he can't wait until next weeks episode.
MacKenzie Carbondale wants a raise and there is surely enough money to go around but I am going to stonewall him completely, because he reminds me of my old neighbor Barry. I fucking hate Barry.
For a minute I'm thinking about Allie. Then I'm not.
Today I learn about the true importance of the word “percentages”. More precisely, “My percentages”. My name next to my job title means percentages of profits from everything: T shirts and bath oils and blood red oreos and micro transactions from the Fortnight crossover and sex dolls and the BTK knot tying online masterclass. There were product placements inside product placements inside program length commercials that followed programs that aren't commercials. But of course, they are too.
I know there's a cameraman following me today because I forgot the Adderall/Provigil combo (the “up” portion) of my morning drug cocktail and the aforementioned cameraman nudged me awake when I nodded out in front of a vending machine with a dollar in my outstretched hand.
Standing there, I was dreaming of a large glowing, pulsing pit that people had lined up to be swallowed by, and after every person disappeared into it, it would spit out some money into a basket and it was almost my turn and then I was standing next to a snack machine being lightly shaken by a stranger with a camera who, when I could focus on him, says “we can go do bumps if that'll help”, so we do.
I'm focusing on the maintenance of my general demeanor and he talks a lot and tells me a couple different times how he just films “general footage” in a way that sounds rehearsed but he's a nice enough guy and his coke is good and we both agree on how attractive Zoe is. After that he shows me his new gun and I tell him it's nice.