Queso Gonna Ques
Dearests, I hope you’re having a lovely morning. As I will be off on vacation next week, attempting to completely cut myself off of the news cycle and anything resembling politics-related fever dreams, I’ve got a lot I’m trying to read before Friday at 5 pm, when I hurl my internet connection into the sun and glue my true crime-filled kindle to my face. So here we go!
As someone who does her best to purchase nearly everything from an internet-enabled store because #millennial, I devoured this batshit-cray piece on an internet mattress’s battles against online review sites. In a world where affiliate links make the world go round, the story of the “strange backwater of the internet economy” is amazing.
On the topic of Woody Allen’s so-demanded (UGH) response to the Weinstein allegations, Lindy West says what had to be said: Yes, This Is a Witch Hunt. I’m a Witch and I’m Hunting You. And she goes right for the heart with this, on the topic of our current nihilist predicament:
“Donald Trump, our predator in chief, seems to view the election of Barack Obama as a white man being fired. He and his supporters are willing to burn the world in revenge. This whole catastrophic cultural moment was born of that same entitlement, of Trump’s paws and Weinstein’s unbelted bathrobe, of the ancient cycles of abuse that ghostwrote the Trump campaign’s real slogan: If I can’t have you, no one will.”
I guess there’s some internet conspiracy about Melanie Trump having a body double, because folks somehow think we haven’t gone dystopia enough in 2017? And while there is absolutely nothing beyond internet speculation on the alleged clone, don’t worry my friends, Alexandra Petri has the only (humorous) take you need to read.
From Bloomberg: Chipotle Executive Urges Chain's Staff to Ignore Queso Backlash. FYI: Ignoring queso backlashes is my side hustle.
And the Reductress article of the day is Quiz: Are You an Introvert, Extrovert, Or Victorian Ghost With Unfinished Business?(Y’all KNOW I’m a Victorian ghost…)
See you tomorrow, poppets!