for one thing, the critical enterprise is crucial to maintaining the intellectual and spiritual health of the arts, obviously.
but for another thing: let you find pleasure in something i knee-jerkingly disapprove of? you thought! πΉ get that shit out of my sight. i am a marrow-level hater. the fire of sanctimonious disdain burns within me as though divinely ordained. i am not going to sit back and let you clap like a seal every time deadpool breaks the fourth wall. shame on you. oh, you refer to podcasters by their first name, like you know them? did you say dasha? i spit at your feet and laugh maliciously at your parasocial delusions. is that addison rae i hear? i am coming for the wire of your headphones with a pair of scissors. i can do this all day. i live for this. i donβt even need to believe what iβm saying or know what iβm talking about. this is my bread and butter, and i will not stop for as long as i live. mercy is no name i have ever known
