The Nepotist

 

It’s not who you know that matters, but who your parents know. And it’s not your first name that people care about, but your last name. The trouble is most of us can’t get around the random circumstances of our birth. 

Until now.

Because, for a modest sum (actually, sums), you can finally get that pedigree to go with your advanced degree. A Nepotist is like an exorcist, except instead of enlisting someone to work on neck flexibility and a liquid diet, you’re paying a person to provide the necessary credentials to succeed in life. Need a name change? No problem. Need a new car? Start shopping. Like any university, we provide predatory loans so anyone can take full advantage of our suite of offerings. Everyone should know what it’s like to be a scion of industry.  

Too many would-be celebrities are identity bereft. You’re probably struggling submitting that screenplay languishing in your desk drawer? The Nepotist can help you. Try querying studios with the last name Apatow and watch as your phone won’t stop vibrating. Have you always wanted to work at NASA? Turns out, having the last name Einstein doesn’t exactly hurt. Think you can build a better car than Musk? How does Henry Ford Jr. Jr. sound? We all love performing dance videos on TikTok. You know what helps? When a viewer connects you to an actual Oscar winner. 

Some applicants worry about the potential for fallout. I always use one question to prove my point. How many Baldwin brothers are there? 4? 6? 18? 57? See? You have no idea. And neither do they. Nobody does. They won't mind one more. Trust me. When you make that first audition as Abner Baldwin, I’m sure the rest of the brood will be happy when you land the role. Because Hollywood, like most industries, is one big family.

What a Nepotist does is shrouded in mystery and NDAs. But make no mistake about: this is not a meritocracy. You know what helps to get a series greenlit on Netflix? Not going to film school, of course, but rather showing producers you are 1/128^th Corsican prince. Nepotists try to rid you of your non-celebrity soul and replace it with at least a C-lister. 

Don’t believe me? Here’s one testimonial in support of what we do.

“I was struggling to make it as a visual artist. Literally starving. I wanted to be the next Warhol and couldn’t even afford a soup can for dinner. So I contacted the Nepotist and we worked out a payment plan over the course of my life span. I went from unknown painter, Drew Dinkins, to celebrity wunderkind, Phillipe Picasso. Not too bad. Thanks, Nepotist, you’re a life saver. Especially since you have my life savings now.”

Remember. If you can’t be famous, you can pretend to be related to someone famous. It beats praying. 

ChitChatGPT

While everyone at home is trying to stump the newest AI with wild requests like, “do the Great Gatsby but please dear God don’t set it in Long Island” or “Rewrite Moby Dick focused on Ahab’s obsession with Bob Marley and the Whalers,” few have stopped to check in on the bot itself? Fame and notoriety can go to anyone’s head, or whatever the closest approximation is to a head in this case. Has anyone even thought of asking, “how are you?”

What we don’t need are more superhero movies or stupid limericks. What we need are friends and confidants. Confidantes to some, actual enemies to others. Either way, the point of a chat bot is not to get the best of them, but to find some common ground. 

Think of it like this. know plenty of robotic people out there, never so much as altering their route to work. But they have to moisturize. Chatbots don't have to do that. They also have to sleep and eat. There are other things, too. I just can't think of them right now. Maybe I'll ask a friend for help. 

Of course, I don’t need a friend. I’m in the middle of culling season. Every January, I review friendship applications and set aside a few lucky ones for the highly coveted “waiting list.” Being a friend my easy, staying my friend, now that takes some persistence. I left a spot open for ChatGPT, the way some restaurants insist on leaving empty tables for the walk-in, causing a great deal of consternation for the reservation obsessed. With that in mind, I waited for ChatGPT to come crawling back to me, panic-stricken, asking questions about esoteric topics, desperately in need of something to crib that wasn’t already written on Wikipedia. 

The first piece of correspondence I got were little snippets. But I wasn’t having any one it. I quickly landed on a solution. I mailed Chat a self-addressed stamped envelope (Battle Creek, MI) and said, “put everything you want to talk about on writing but do it here.” That way, there was no risk of hacking. Yes, the mail is slow and tedious, and letters can get wet (very wet), but I firmly believe it was worth the risk. The last thing I wanted was a screenshot showing up somewhere like TikTok or worse (Instagram reels). 

I’m still waiting to hear back. 

At Wit's End

 

How about Kanye West, folks? More like Kanye career-going-south.

Let me be the first to say that daylight savings time is annoying. When did we all develop a kinship with rural farmers? 

What’s the deal with working from home? More like not home from working, am I right?

I was reading an interesting article yesterday. No, wait, I was listening to an interesting podcast. No, I was actually reading an interesting podcast description. Well, to be honest, I was listening to someone describe an interesting podcast on another podcast. Okay, so really, a friend I very much respect was telling me about this subject. Not a friend per se, but a celebrity who does a lot of speaking in public. Anyway, it was about 

I’m a big proponent of gentrification. Why? Because I consider myself a real gent. 

There’s a lot of discussion about the pronunciation of “GIF.” But does anyone say “me me” when the mean “meme?” I say it because I consider every piece of content solely for me. 

What kind of name is “Elon” anyway? No joke here, just a question. 

January 6^th was two years ago today. It was also a year ago today. And three years ago today. And four years ago today. As well as fifty and hundred and three hundred and fifty. Time sure is something, huh? 

Not Modern Seinfeld

 

Ralph orders a Peloton for Alice who gets offended at the implication. Stammering to show her anyone can use it, he becomes addicted to working out. They have a big fight and she tells him, “I liked you better when you were fat.” He puts it on the curb the next morning to salvage the relationship. Later, Norton tells him he finally got a six pack. Ralph, relieved, and in desperate need of a cold one, is startled when his pal pulls up his shirt to reveal the results of his newfound passion.   

Ralph threatens to quit his job after a fleet of hybrid buses arrives in Brooklyn. He tells Norton that he can walk faster than that. Well, maybe not him, but a man in better shape could (probably one who owns a Peloton). When he goes to put in his notice, he ends up sitting down in one of the new buses, discovering the seats are much more comfortable. After taking it for a spin, he forgets his plan to quit. Since these buses are slower, most of his problem customers opt to skip the bus and wait for another faster one. Alice gets annoyed that he gets home much later and tells him to ride a bicycle if he cares that much about the environment. 

Ralph and Alice go on vacation but before leaving install a home security system. While relaxing on the beach (in Queens) he watches Norton on his smartphone camera. His pal is going into his fridge, taking food and making himself at home. Furious, he tells Alice they’re driving back to Brooklyn to confront his soon-to-be-ex-friend. When they arrive, Trixie yells “surprise!” Ralph totally forgot it was his birthday. Alice is mortified. Ralph politely invites the police officers he called in for cake.  

Ralph becomes obsessed with the Great British Bake Off, and even starts to dress like Paul Hollywood, finally letting his hair go gray. He starts a Great Brooklyn Bake Off with Norton, feeding the neighborhood children delicious sweets for a modest price. That’s until a group of angry dentists confront Ralph at his home arguing he’s now the number one cause of cavities in the borough. Alice hands them some raw broccoli and tells them to scram. 

Ralph invests their savings into crypto without telling Alice, the logic being, “it means secret in Ancient Greek.” When the FTX scandal blows up, she laughs, saying, “I’m glad we didn’t put our money in that. Right?” There’s a big pause and she repeats, “right?” Ralph turns red and says it was going to be a big surprise after he cleared the first million. Alice is mad at first, but moved by the gesture, dumb as it is. Alice tells him it’s okay, she didn’t marry him for his money. Or his smarts. Or his looks. He gets it and she can stop now, but she continues listing things, “ Or your manners, your clothes, your taste, your common sense…” as the credits roll. 

Copy writing

The secret to writing, especially copywriting is to copy writing. There’s no reason to hurt yourself trying to come up with original ideas when familiar ones will do just fine. Consider this: how many religions rely on a big civilization cleansing flood to get things rolling? According to my notes, lots. It’s God’s way of hitting the reset button on humanity.

However, given that, you’d think a couple of them would opt against a massive deluge in favor of something more incendiary, like volcanoes. But it turns out, that lava don’t have nearly the same staying power as water. For one thing, you can’t bottle or can it and sell it at supermarkets for people who have never paid attention to what drips out of their faucet. Which reminds me, when are we going to have bagged water? Biodegradable water balloons you throw at the mouths of the dehydrated. 

So true believers go with what works, not wanting to rock the boat. Though having a boat helps when those first few waves burst down Main Street. As a certain credit card company said many years ago, unoriginal ideas are everywhere you want to be. And like a shoe company keeps on saying, just copy it. 

Headlines, memes, even love letters to your soulmate have all been done (and done better) long before you entered the fray. Think of it as one less thing you have to think about. Don't go for more, go for more of the same. 

Light Reading

 

Recently, it’s come to my attention that many people say things without thinking. In other words, it’s become apparent that a larger number of individuals don’t consider what comes out of their mouth. As someone working in the illumination business, I had a bright idea. Make a list of those problematic phrases that are no longer acceptable. Giving people a chance to adapt before it’s too late. 

Hit the Lights

Now why would you want to do that? What did the lights ever do to you? This is violent, hostile imagery and evokes a dangerous, forceful act. Consider replacing with Consensually Touch the Lights.

Dim the Lights

When I was a schoolboy, poor students were often referred to as dim bulbs. But as anyone who has ever sat in an overly bright room, there’s nothing wrong with dimness. In fact, it can be much nicer, far easier on the eyes. The problem with this phrase is that not ever light switch contains a dimmer. It’s like asking a person with no feet to kick you a soccer ball. A real faux pas. Lighten the Lights is positive, if only slightly less clear. 

Kill the Lights

This is a major no-no. Thou Shalt Not Kill – it’s in the Bible, for God’s sake. Killing is illegal. Why would it be any different here. Think about saying Help the Lights instead. 

 

Now you could follow these rules to a T. Or you could choose to make light of them.

2023: Year in Review

It seems like last year was only yesterday. But in fact, it was two days ago. Boy does time fly when you’re sitting on your hands staring into the persistent glow of a generic computer screen. My New Year’s resolution was to be more mindful of time and not procrastinate. That’s why I’ve decided to put together a list that most people leave until late December. I’m getting on top of it early. Some might say, “too early.” Only time will tell.

Best Day of the Year

I’d have to go with yesterday (January 1^st), since it was a full day and in the city the sky was blue and the weather was quite temperate. 

Best Meal

Last night’s dinner was good. Leftovers, yes, but good ones at that. 

Best TV Show

I don’t have a TV. 

Best Movie

I haven’t watched any movies yet, at least not all the way through. I am about halfway through the mediocre Sean Connery vehicle, “Presidio,” starring Mark Harmon of NCIS fame. It’s not good. But if you’re like me and despise the topography of San Francisco, it’s great to see sparks flying from a getaway car’s undercarriage. 

Best Podcast

I’m a radio man. You should know that.

Quote of the Year

“Can we get please get rid of our Christmas tree?”

Best Book

2023 was the year people stopped read once and for all. 

Things That Didn’t Live up to the Hype

Spring and summer.

Biggest Trend

Doing things earlier than expected. Like say, this list.