#21. International Weed Witch Day: Friday the 13th, Sadie Hawkins + World Kindness Day! Rethinking Thanksgiving in a Month of Gratitude
Plus: The Limited Edition Drop of E.Ther x Weed Witch Discrete-Time Lighters
Vol. 21
Astromotional Update: International Weed Witch Day, Friday the 13th, Sadie Hawkins + World Kindness Day! A.K.A. “I Love My Grandma” and Scorpios
Rethinking Thanksgiving in a Month of Gratitude
Limited Edition “DISCRETE-TIME” E. Ther x The Weed Witch Lighters, and the story of Queen Esther
On The Adaptation of Restaurants, Chefs and The Sensory World
Jerking Off On The Internet
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Dear coven,
HAPPY INTERNATIONAL WEED WITCH DAY. I am officially declaring an unofficial holiday as it is Friday the 13th, a notoriously “unlucky” day that I would like to subvert because it also World Kindness Day and Sadie Hawkins Day, as well as my grandma’s birthday, my dear friend and screenwriter Josh Cagan’s birthday, and fellow food writer, Colu Henry’s birthday. Scorpio triplets! I love when I find birthday connections among the very wonderful people I know. It just makes me love them even more.
My grandma turned 93 today. I love her so much. She hasn’t really received a lot of recognition and never asks for it, so honoring her with a conceptually fake holiday of kindness and bizarro-world “girls taking the initiative” seemed like a fitting gesture. I know you are receiving this late, but there’s never a bad time to think of being kind and empowering women to take the lead.
She doesn’t use cannabis, though I recently tried to send her some Pachamama CBD pain cream and icy muscle gel. When you get to that age, your body breaks down frequently with tremendous pain in your joints and muscles. It’s super unsexy, but she also said her tits have long been hanging down to her belly button as she is beyond “over the hill.” I love her sense of humor and have to remind her of it often.
Believe it or not, she used to be able to run circles around me back in the day when I ran track. I once tried working out with her. At the time, she was using a trainer and could do so many mountain climbers, even in her 70s. I love reading stories about senior body builders and people who transformed themselves into stronger and wiser individuals at any age, proving that we can all evolve whenever we want. I am obsessed with Ernestine Shepherd, who looks so amazing at 79. She didn’t start this phase of her life until she was 56.
My grandma had to restart her life at 40 after abruptly losing her husband, left with three kids as a housewife in the ‘60s. When faced with uprooting her whole life, she became a hospital administrator. At a certain point, you put in your time, go through a loop, and decide: is this the path I want stick on or is there another one that’s worth taking?
This has been a hard year on older people, who often experience loneliness and pain even without a pandemic. Seniors have been especially vulnerable to the ravages of COVID. When I was feeling bored or sad this year, it was nice to hear their stories. Even the term “senior” feels so reductive for people who have boundless energy because we are living healthier, stronger and longer lives than ever before.
Somehow at 35, I am looking better than ever so it’s never too late to start making changes. Part of my job was to assess quality of product and places, so my body suffered a lot of abuse when I was younger. I often go through periods where I’ll abstain from cannabis and other substances as a detox to “reset the clock”—which is totally normal—so I can lower my tolerance and find moderation. Moderation is key!
The amount I need to relax or enjoy creatively is different than someone who has chronic pain, cancer, or a heavy hitter—that is their choice, too. The assessment of quality and efficacy, therefore, is going to be unique for every individual and is useful that we have all our respective wheelhouses to contribute. I love stupid stoners as much as pretentious intellectuals. This is why I call myself a “ratchet intellectual” because I am both.
In the past, detoxing was due to passing antiquated drug tests, but the same could be said of any substance: wine, beer, spirits, food. You assess for taste and quality, but no one is supposed to eat a tasting menu every day or sample 500 glasses of wine like professional sommeliers and other accredited professionals endure in order to provide curated recommendations. I did this in South France, which I wrote about in Vol. 10.
After being a human guinea pig for so many years, the secret to my 40 pound weight loss was a lifestyle change—but it wasn’t simple. Compounded with major stress and anxiety, moderation really did make the difference after so many years of consuming without abandon. We live such sedentary lives these days that it’s important to listen to our bodies.
She was pretty hesitant about the topicals because she didn’t want to use marijuana—even when I reminded her that CBD doesn’t have psychosomatic components, though it is scientifically proven to reduce inflammation and widely valued for its naturopathic qualities for treating chronic pain.
Still, her pain is pretty deep and requires cortisol shots. Between the lack of standardization in double-blind testing and the placebo effect, it’s all still so relative and personal. Topicals help me quite a bit when I have tense pain, which are often combined with other soothing ingredients like turkey tail mushrooms, arnica, capsicum, etc.
People often don’t think about these niche ingredients until they need them, but what a beautiful thing we have available on our own planet. I love plants and learning about their origin stories. When you search for specific ingredients, it takes you to the “Earth Mother stores”—as my friend Nick Prueher of the Found Footage Festival would say.
He’s a vegetarian who often travels across the U.S., which means he often lands at these hippie/holistic shops in the most random places. Nick, by the way, is one of the funniest people on the planet and the biggest trolls. He is such a goof, and doesn’t even smoke weed. But the Found Footage Festival is one of the best things to watch stoned.
I love those shops, as well as the witch shops—even when they’re kind of cheesy—because they’re always filled with the nicest people. Plus, you can usually count on these places to have concerted efforts towards careful sourcing when everything else is questionable fast food at truck stops. Truck drivers, too, have to put considerable wear and tear on their bodies for long hauls and would benefit from nicer, affordable meals on the road.
I’ve been spending a lot of time with older people, which has humbled me and provided compassion towards an uncertain future that we all face. The past few years while I was on my own journey, I consulted people of all ages to learn about their paths. Everyone an interesting story. I wish I could tell them all.
During lockdown in New York, I volunteered with a few organizations to lend time, which was a really rewarding experience at a time when I felt so disconnected from others. The term “essential workers” made me feel “unessential,” and I saddened by the news, so I made myself essential. I delivered Meals on Wheels via God’s Love We Deliver and Goddard Riverside, helped edit teen dystopian poetry through 826 NYC, and did a drop off for a really lovely older woman named Louise on the Upper West Side on Rosh Hashanah with Dorot.
All of these contactless deliveries and experiences were incredibly rewarding. I had an hour-and-a-half call with Louise, and occasionally check in on her. She has a trainer, too, and misses getting out and about. I love knowing the poetry I edited will be compiled into a book that helps young teens establish their work. I didn’t need my name attached to any of these things, but simply the act of doing it is what really mattered. It made me feel more connected to my city that needed so much help.
Talking about how much help was needed on the internet seemed to be a bigger waste of time than just jumping in to lend a hand where I could. Many of my friends felt similarly after phone banking or taking time to work at their local food bank. A break from the internet to be more involved is how we all make a difference between the online and offline worlds.
It is incredibly common to go through multiple transformations, career changes, and loss throughout one’s life, especially in your mid-thirties as the friends you once knew often start new lives with families. You might be on the same path, or a different one. This past year, in particular, was really hard for a lot of people in isolation—especially those alone or going through challenging times with their loved ones, roommates or partners.
Some people found love in “a hopeless place,” and I wanted to help others in this way, too. Which is why I thought, “You know, there are a lot of stupid pseudo-holidays out there. Why not add my own?” By the way, did you know that March 26 is actually Make Up Your Holiday Day? How meta!
A luxury gift is always amazing, but I also know what it is like to be with limited means. Simply making a gift or finding a special item to repurpose can be a meaningful gesture, too. You bring a nice gift for your host at a potluck. An apple or art supplies for a teacher. A thoughtful card in the mail to a friend. A phone call. You give gifts to your boss or your employee. To the people you appreciate to let them know you care. Everyone loves gifts, and when we give to others, we should pay it forward, acknowledge our gratitude to the ones who thought of us, and remember them, too. I am grateful for all of my friends, especially if you are here now reading this.
I love to repurpose and regift items, as I think our world has too much trash. I was raised to reuse and recycle. To make space with a one-in, one-out policy. The community repurpose piles happening in New York City and elsewhere have been such an amazing thing. When I first getting my life together during college and otherwise, I loved a good hand-me-down.
As I got older was able to afford new things or was given items as a result of my job, I was able to upgrade and loved finding new homes for my former possessions that could be loved by someone else as much as I did. So, I always appreciate a curated blend of old and new things, especially when they are made with love. Including the brands who have committed themselves to a more sustainable mission that can empower local communities and responsible manufacturing.
We are best when we are conscious consumers, make space in our lives by getting rid of things we don’t need. I love the hunt of hitting up a thrift store to find treasures, and miss diving into record stores where you could take a chance on a new album, or discover an up-and-coming band at a show. We can still discover new things every day, but I mainly love the act of sharing these things that I find.
Which is why I made the valuation was about $25 for International Weed Witch Day and The Weed Witch Pen Pal club. It didn’t have to be new, just something thoughtful. Getting the word out, unfortunately, for all of my big ideas was challenging on top of everything, but connecting even the smallest amount of people to do a simple act of unseen kindness made me feel connected to spreading positivity in the world. I’ve noticed a few pen pal clubs and chain letters resurfacing through social media, and it makes me so optimistic to see the online world positively translating again into offline spaces.
Update: Right after I sent this, I had to edit it because I found a report from the Better Business Bureau that apparently these types of exchanges have been co-opted by horrible forces as a scam. God. Can anything be good?
If you didn’t sign up, but would like to for the future, I hope to have a better method next year. Third time is usually the charm anyway, right? This is an experimental journal that came out during a pandemic, after all, not a hard-lined prescription. We’re all doing our best here! If you participated this year, thank you!
Going through and making a conscious effort to tidy up some of my massively unedited work over the past nine months. Excited about packaging this into a full-fledged literary journal and magazine. It’s going to be a tremendous undertaking, but I am excited.
Yours,
The Weed Witch
Rethinking Thanksgiving and Gratitude
This is a month of gratitude—but also capitalism! “Green Wednesday” or “Weed Wednesday” deemed “The Black Friday of Cannabis” is the Wednesday before Thanksgiving and has quickly become one of the largest sales day for cannabis, seconded only by 4/20. I had no idea about this, but whatever gift you want to give that makes you feel a sense of gratitude you can share with others is cool.
For Thanksgiving, I think shining a light on indigenous makers in cannabis and arts is a way of offering gratitude and remembrance, and an extension of good will in our modern world. To subvert meaning in a day associated with so much pain by honoring with food and friendship, are important to recognize both. Which is basically every Jewish high holiday associated with some story of persecution through the symbolism of food: remembrance and celebrating mitzvahs.
RELATED READING
The History of Indigenous Cannabis: Natives, Explorers, and Colonists (Dispensing Freedom)
Michigan Tribe Is About to Create Its Own Legal Weed Market Free From State Control (Merry Jane)
The Time I Drove Two Hours To A Reservation For Pre-Rolled Joints (Cannabitch)
Thanksgiving was among my favorite holidays as a food writer. The time when I would go home to visit my family, just before it became too unbearably cold in Chicago. Last year was the first time I didn’t home for it and I’m not going this year, either, because of COVID.
However, last year I ended up hopping onto the tail end of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, which I watched every year at my family’s home. I was living up in East Harlem and figured this was the best opportunity to do it, ended up missing the whole thing, and trailing on the end. I took this photo of myself with the floats, just to say that I did it, even though I wasn’t invited. I thought it was really funny and cute. What a troll: to be a stupid happy stoner marcher in the parade not associated with anyone, but just wanting to be part of the event. Classic.
I always loved the food traditions, and felt the holiday was pretty non-denominational for us as meaning, but also know it represents a lot of pain for native populations. Particularly as these communities still struggle with identity and autonomy against corporate giants and politicos.
So, yes! I will do my best to compile the endless mega-lists as I have in the past for GQ, and you will click on all of my affiliate links. Because everyone says they hate capitalism, but you all want nice stuff! I know you do! This is how our economy moves, and as conscious consumers, I recognize that access and availability will ultimately have to include a mix of recognizable brands and indie makers of all price points. I’m only one person running a scrappy journal/newsletter, but always find it cool when I dig around and find new people.
America is so lucky in its complex history to be among such an amalgamation of cultures that all co-exist, where we have so much at our fingertips that we take for granted. I hope you learn some new, some old, and it inspires you to discover things for yourself that will help you live beautiful stoners lives.
WRITING OPPORTUNITY: CHAPTER HOUSE JOURNAL
My friend, Dr. Miye Nadya Tom (Paiute/Pomo/Russian), a postcolonial scholar who has researched, published, and lectured on race/ethnicity in education nationally and internationally is currently running an online literary magazine out of Denver called Chapter House Journal (formerly Mud City Journal) by way of the Institute of American Indian Arts (IAIA) Low Residency MFA Program in Santa Fe, New Mexico. She is accepting work from native and non-native writers on a variety of topics. I know I have a number of creative writers who follow me and this is an amazing opportunity to help build upon an incredible native-run publication.
On that note, as I mentioned in Vol. 16, museum stores are the best ever for finding cool swag. Check out the IAIA store if you are interested in discovering books, apparel and jewelry from curated native makers.
Limited Edition “DISCRETE-TIME” E. Ther x The Weed Witch Lighters
Speaking of indie makers, I am excited to announce my line of “Discrete-Time” artful lighters that will be available soon. “E. Ther” is essentially my Sasha Fierce persona and pen name for The Weed Witch, referencing my chosen Hebrew name, Esther. She’s the Biblical heroine who saved the Jews of Persia through her leveraged relationship with Ahasuerus, or King Xerxes I, and the inspiration behind the holiday, Purim. National Geographic has a really awesome overview of this history that’s filled with Jewish mysticism. She is also frequently seen within goddess tarot arcana decks, like this one from Divine Sanctuary.
Queen Esther
The Morning Star
Who She Is
Esther represents the powerful combination of feminine intuition and divine timing. Esther was a Hebrew orphan born with the name Hadassah. Raised by her cousin Mordecai, she lived with the Jewish community in exile in Persia during th 5th century B.C.E. Mordecai became aware of a plot against the Jewish people created by the king’s chief minister, Haman.
Using her brilliance and her intuition, Esther came up with a plan to save her cousin and her people. Her beauty had caught the attention of the king. So, when his current wife, Vashti, refused to come to him when called, Esther seized the moment and the king chose her to be his wife. Then Esther didn’t wait for the king to call her; she prepared a large banquet and called for him. Once he was fully in love with her, she revealed that she was a Jew and that Haman had plotted to kill her people.
The book of Esther in the Tanakh, or the Hebrew scriptures is known as the scroll, or the Megillah, and it is read twice out loud, once in the morning and in the evening, during the festival of Purim to celebrate the memory of Esther’s brave actions. Her name is derived from the word meaning “bright star” or “morning and evening star.” This is the name she grew into when she courageously trusted her intuition and used its divine timing to save herself and her people.
When Your Soul Selects Her Card
The ego has a timetable that the soul couldn’t care less about. When we are feeling stressed or threatened in some way, fear can be exceptionally loud and can inform the ego to work overtime in trying to get something to happen. The natural flow of energy that’s always at work behind the scenes, the universe’s capacity to assist us, then gets blocked.
When we are in service of love, we are following the dictates of out soul. And when the ego is in service of the soul, divine timing ensues. Esther mastered this art. Even under extreme duress, she listened wisely to her soul. She became a queen by letting her love for her people inform her feminine intuitive powers. This is her imperative: trust that everything is aligning in divine timing; trust your soul-voice.
Coincidentally, Madonna also took the name Esther when she dabbled in Kabbalah, which I mentioned in Vol. 6. My mother had dressed me up as a little ‘80s Madonna Queen Esther when I was a child for Purim. In retrospect, I could see where that was probably construed as inappropriate, but I think it’s pretty bad ass.
Also, can we just acknowledge how much work that I’ve produced this year? Issue 21!
I have a lot of cool hipster parent friends who gave their kids mohawks, Morrissey swag, or imparted their unique sense of style onto their kids. The biggest form of rebellion, therefore, is to be conservative, like Saffron and Edie in Absolutely Fabulous. I totally rebelled against my mom by tepid about her free-thinking ways. I actually appreciate it a lot now that I’m older, because so many other kids thought I was weird. I love their dysfunctional relationship and that show.
Back to the lighters: I made these using salvaged materials and rhinestones to embrace a scrappy STEM-meets-art-meets-spirituality vibe. A right- and left-brained approach to flames. Hence, “Esther” becomes “E.Ther”—a word that is both scientific and literary in its duality; a subversive “gray area” where more than one thing can be true at once.
noun
CHEMISTRY: a pleasant-smelling colorless volatile liquid that is highly flammable. It is used as an anesthetic and as a solvent or intermediate in industrial processes.
LITERARY: the clear sky; the upper regions of air beyond the clouds.
It seemed fitting, therefore, to make it a lighter as a functional small flame. Also, I just thought it was kind of a cool thing to have and make. I love collecting lighters when I travel because they are useful for joints, and also give me a small sense of place and memory. You don’t have to use them for joints, of course. Incense is nice, relight your gas burner.
Plus, they just look pretty cool if you don’t want to get that deep about it. Anyway, I digress. Coming soon to a weed witch near you for your peace pipe!
On The Adaptation of Restaurants, Chefs and The Sensory World
Writing about restaurants was basically my entire life, but I was happy to pass along that torch. That said, this past week, I got a couple rolls as a treat to myself from Sushi On Jones, an omakase bar in the West Village which is where I spotted Martha Stewart the day the election was called (word has it she loves the sake there). I haven’t had sushi in ages and really missed it. They were so sweet and gave me an extra roll as we discussed how hard it has been for restaurants and their employees this year everywhere as a result of COVID.
Walking around New York City, I appreciate the whimsy restaurants injected into this bruised and battered city, using twinkling lighting for outdoor seating that create a sense of normalcy even in these plague-ravaged and piss-soaked streets. Knowing that we’re all going to have to move indoors, spend more time at home, or cross our fingers that take out will be available and safe. (Get your flu shot! It’s free at CVS! Love, your Jewish mom). My feeling is that restaurants in temperature-dependent states restrictive from year-round outdoor dining will adapt to seasonal operating models for the undetermined future, if I was going to guess.
Restaurants are often a wayward home for creative individuals who look at the world through a different sensory lens of sight, smell, taste, sound, and touch, i.e. experiences. That’s not to say what is “good” or “bad,” but simply that these are places of incredible joy and pain exist under the same roof, often with the very thin veil of a door or curtain for things we don’t see as they specialize in the art of hospitality and care. The places we create beautiful memories that often require so much unseen labor delivered with a simple smile.
Also, chefs are usually the biggest stoners with the best munchies! You’ll find many former art school kids here, along with writers, actors and musicians hustling to make ends meet between their jobs. Where health and nutrition often live side-by-side with the seedy underbelly of sex, drugs and alcohol. The meeting places of the minds as historic pillars of communities where change and growth occur.
The thing I am most excited about national legalization and the future of cannabis will be the contribution of chefs and the hospitality industry. Where someday we will all be able to take our vape pens or an edible to enjoy an afternoon walking through an art park, a gallery, hiking in nature, or enjoying a nice meal.
I believe cannabis will be as important to the future of culinary education and medicine as any other segment of wine, food, culture and history. The products readily available in legal states and the carving of terroir is already under way on the West Coast and Canada, running circles around the ground work that had been laid in Europe.
After spending considerable time researching this rapidly shifting landscape over the past few years in the search for terroir and culture, I am optimistic about a future where someday we won’t think twice about someone micro-dosing an edible at a party in the same way that someone else might have a beer. Where we relinquish judgment, provide safe access, and to help undo the damage caused by prohibition. I don’t know if this will all sort itself out in my lifetime, but I feel that documenting this lens is so important and why I was called to use my experience in this way.
The closure of some of these relics, therefore, is tragic as a result of COVID. But I am optimistic for a future that is rebuilding, even in the wake of such monumental destruction. We had to spread our diverse populations back into the struggling monocultures, to help uplift them again with the work that was already under way. To share our knowledge and appreciation for understanding that quality takes time to produce. Where a small container of $8 Nielsen-Massey vanilla—seen as “too fancy” or snobby, by some—is the product of over three-years of natural labor of bees, sunshine, earth, and humans to extract, bottle, ship, place on a shelf and come to your pantry.
When we think about where things come from, we appreciate them more. We appreciate the care it takes because we want all of these things to sustain and be open to all. We advocate for this education and knowledge that is usually carried out by the food people—the intermediaries between the farmers, laborers, and merchants. These people have continued to operate in unsafe spaces. Same thing with those who transformed prohibited plant medicine in edible goods. Healers and dealers.
A few chefs I know are taking time to temporarily close their restaurants for some much-needed R&R. Bartenders, who are used to lending a sympathetic ear while chasing tips, are often emotionally exhausted and overextended. More often than not, these people love getting lifted with cannabis to help with joints and pain—or just for a good time. They know how to party, after all.
Working with Space Monkey Collective in Belfast for my story in Merry Jane was particularly touching because they are headed by a former pastry chef who needed cannabis to help his aching joints and muscles after working long stretches running ragged in the kitchen. He transformed plant medicine into beautiful pastries, inspired by his culinary training and the work happening in the U.S. along the West Coast, as he helped cancer patients and other medical users.
Alia Volz, whose book Home Baked: My Mom, Marijuana, and the Stoning of San Francisco (Amazon | IndieBound) came out the same time as my book—in the middle of lockdown of the pandemic—details how revolutionary it was for her mother to bake weed brownies back in the day while simultaneously being weened on Nancy Reagan’s D.A.R.E. program. Weirdly, I understood this duality myself, having grown up in South Florida in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s on the heels of the Miami drug wars, where you had to prepare your children about “Stranger Danger” while protecting their innocence.
By the time I made it to the Midwest in the mid ‘90s, I was very desensitized to issues of sex and drugs, but routinely found this would be new to so many other kids and teens again and again, at every age, even in college, after being protected so fiercely. Some adults are still learning—some will never know. If anything, my levels of experimentation were pretty low because I was properly educated about the risks and use of birth control and abortion to empower my decision-making. Same with drugs. Marijuana is so benign compared to other drugs that it's wild to me it's even in the same category.
Even now, many adults are still torn about their feelings on cannabis and alcohol. Alcohol can be a social conduit or abused. Cannabis can uplift some to higher consciousness, while causing anxiety spirals and paranoia in others. To say either of these are all good or bad is a relative statement. It is removing the prohibition, creating access and equity that allows individuals to make those choices understanding the risks.
It’s amazing how far we’ve come since then in terms of education. There is so much discovery ahead, as well as how we think to consider and engage with that plant. There unique wonders in science, such as how aromatherapy and terpenes in olfactory research for dementia. We live during a time when culinary professionals can receive certifications through the American Culinary Federation, as well as Cannabusiness and Cannalaw at NYU. Where you can now get “weed wine” and elegant cannabis-infused aperitifs as alcohol replacements. The boundless creativity is amazing.
I tend to think legalizing cannabis as a plant does more good than harm, and will be good for society economically. Where the best case scenario is it that it becomes as boring and everyday in places like Amsterdam, where most locals appreciate the tourists but also have to function in the every day. A bartender or budtender does not have the same consumption habits as a casual toker, a medical patient, or a first-timer.
Then again, can you remember the first time you had too much to drink and paid for it with a horrible hangover? We all learn our limits through trial and error. I would rather get high from a joint than jump out of a plane sober to get my thrills. That’s just a choice. We will all face unique challenges in the world around us where we have to make choices and consider the implications.
In the meantime, as we wait in the present for the future to catch up across state lines: I just discovered this app called Too Good To Go that helps connect consumers with food waste from restaurants. There is so much that gets thrown away, and this is a cool way to both support restaurants while reducing the footprint, along with affordability for those who are on a budget.
Jerking Off On The Internet
Ah, Jeffrey Toobin. I don’t know why that story still sticks out to me, but I think it’s maybe the best levity and punctuated statement about “jerking off on the internet” to have a writer who has enjoyed the long-time perks of his cushy job at The New Yorker rightfully pulled after getting caught masturbating on Zoom in front of all of his coworkers.
I don’t like to be cruel because I am actually somewhat empathetic and don’t think he is a bad person for jerking off or that it absolves his talent, but what I noticed from all of this was a debate as to whether or not the ends justified the means. Which is to completely overlook the fact that even if he wasn’t trying to be a predator and it was an accident, he was caught doing something he shouldn’t have. Not only in the middle of the work day—which would be inappropriate at any office, even acknowledging the struggles of the lack of work-home life balance that we have all adjusted to—but that he shouldn’t have been doing it at all. He just got caught. Period. I don’t even understand why there’s a question on that.
The way media discusses this is so hilarious and explains such a sense of mental fragmentation from people who need to go engage offline in the real world for a minute. Because it adequately demonstrates why no one empathizes with the struggles of New York writers who get to jerk offline musing about the world around them with hoards of sympathizers about getting caught doing something you shouldn’t have been doing in the first place. Instead, it was seen as an attack on “workers rights” as one editor at The Incept obtusely mused.
“Get a job” is what most people say to writers, as the journalistic landscape of free press—essential to the checks and balances of a healthy society—has scraped to bare-bone teams siloing so many of us into newsletters (Working on it!). To shame creatives into manual labor as honest work, rejecting the notion that we don’t need roses as well as our daily bread. I think Toobin’s net worth is $10 million and he has books. He’ll be OK. He can write another whole book about this with all this time and his dick in his hands. God, the dick jokes are so good.
Interestingly, I think only Vice was among the only ones that used the word “masturbating,” instead for the expression “exposing himself.” Because that’s what it was. (To be fair, Vice is pretty masturbatory, too). It would be just as disgusting and unsavory as if it was your boss or coworker at whichever boring day job you have where people somehow get through their day not doing that. As if Jeffrey Toobin is exempt from the rules that apply to everyone else because of his legacy attachment to this institution that he carelessly disrespected, as well his audience, coworkers and family.
The fact he jerked off means nothing to me. That’s an unfortunate thing, just like it’s unfortunate he couldn’t wait an hour to do it. At the very least, I hope he has a paid account. Sex work is, after all, work. Getting off guys like Toobin who jerk off during their work day with a slap on the wrist while sex workers have to protect every aspect of their personhood is precisely why no one should care that the worst thing that happened was everyone found out and he got fired. Matt Lauer, by comparison, is “suffering his disgrace” by selling a $44 million mansion in the Hamptons and driving around in a Ferrari. Clearly no one cares.
I’d say he probably suffered the least amount of shame because if a woman did this, not only would she be fired, but probably dragged, doxxed and harassed online, called a whore, while being unable to find a respectable job again and chastised for being so stupid. This wasn’t some lesser offense accident, such as going to the bathroom or casually not wearing pants on a GMA interview (also stranger—you’re on Good Morning America and can’t get together to wear pants? What are you, a toddler?). He was gratifying himself on company time in front of his coworkers. He should be embarrassed.
Meanwhile, everyone was so sad about this and jumped in to defend Toobin as “a cultural problem.” I wondered, if in a corporate meeting instead The New Yorker, having your co-worker whip his dick out because he was that bored that he couldn’t sit through a one-hour meeting he was being paid for from the safety and comfort of his house, while so many others struggle to adapt and make ends meet, why would there be any exception? Why do we see these double standards? Because he’s smart? Clearly not smart enough! The upside is it just generated more sensationalist traffic to waste everyone’s time—and also, an uplifting thing we can all laugh at it. Thank you, Jeffrey. I needed that.
I believe in forgiving mistakes. Also: how arrogant. Toobin has a pretty decent following and doesn’t need The New Yorker or CNN to maintain that because people will always empathize with him. He can start a Substack just like everyone else and go on a “Things I Learned From Jerking Off On The Internet” tour, uplifted with subscriptions from sympathizers who see themselves in Jeffrey as weak individuals tempted by the forces of women and pornography, who can’t “control themselves” while taking up space in leadership positions jerking off on the internet and failing to communicate the value of journalism to general public that is losing ad dollars every day.
Most journalists I know are barely able to afford doing this line of work, facing mass layoffs, putting themselves at risk to report in the field being arrested this year during protests and facing hundreds of freedom of press violations. Meanwhile, he literally jerked off on the internet.
My favorite zinger from all of this was from a sex worker, of all people, who had more professionalism in knowing how to use Zoom.
I don’t think shame is an effective method for change—nor do I necessarily have any personal feelings towards Toobin. He may be a talented writer, but he is a clearly a moron. If he wanted to do some good from this, it would be to take some time to think about how he ended up in that position and humble himself towards being a better person after 27 years completely unchecked. Actually, why not donate to a sex worker relief fund? Oregon sex workers can now apply for this.
It points out a very obvious gap in leadership with detachment from the world around individuals who become too consumed in their daily lives to remember gratitude for others until they are faced with the repercussions of their own actions. I don’t think he is necessarily a “bad person,” but clearly careless. I just think this indicates the double standard of how with great power comes great responsibility, and he neglected that.
That said, so many amazing dick jokes out of this! I’d hand it to him, but it seems as though he has his hands full. ;)
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