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I, Jonah

1 min read

Every day that I fail to fulfill my destiny in Kiribati is another day spent as Jonah abondoning Nineveh. The question is: am I still on the boat or am I in the belly of the great fish? Am I sailing further away or have reached the lowest of lows surrounded by darkness? I know not.


The contempt I have for those drowning in the prevailing Establishment narrative is bottomless. They let headlines protect them from primary sources and breathlessly recite whatever smug tripe late night show hosts trot out to canned laughter. It would be sad if it weren't so damn funny.


Marvel Normies don't deserve Dune.


Infinite (2021) wants so hard to be Wanted and Inception, with a dash of Mission Impossible/Need For Speed. Shame that it fails to live up to all of them.


The Widow's Might

2 min read

I follow a widow on Twitter whom I have never met in real life but we're friends with all the same people online. I was there when she lost her husband and our community rallied around her. Recently she's been posting tender memories of her marriage as her anniversary approaches and it breaks my heart every time I see it.

Knowledge of life after death and the Plan of Salvation is comforting but never let it be said that we stop missing our loved ones. Watching a family quake with the loss of a father, husband, and best friend is sobering and I hope that this woman can find the peace she so dearly deserves.

Why would I feel the need to comment on all this? Because loss as an event, even when experienced in this digital age, is torturous yet cathartic, unsettling yet reassuring.

Sure I can say we really don't know each other but I do find myself caring unconditionally for her and her family. I guess I'm just gratefully that as I witness her strength and grace it gives me some confidence that I might be able to do the same. Or with more relevance, that I too might find love so strong. It is a loving God that would allow such tender mercies to accompany grief.


Almost all social media sites are dead or dying today. Let's pray it stays that way. Forever.


Reminiscence has the most unrelatably dense protagonist. I was rooting for the bad guys by the end of it.


Always Take The Elevator

3 min read

Back in 2019 I interned at the United Nations as a rep for USU when they had their climate conference in Salt Lake City. After one of the days meetings all the attendees were invited to a multimedia performance at the nearby theater and I took an old friend who was in town as my date. The performance was really weird but definitely interesting to watch (and make fun of). At the end I asked my date if she wanted to check out the view from the top floor of the building (since both of us were originally from Seattle). We get into an elevator going up when we realize everyone was like $$$RICH$$$. Like they all smelled like money. Fancy hats for the ladies, custom suits, ties that cost more than my entire outfit. I whisper to my date, "just go along with whatever happens next." The elevator doors open up and there's two Russian-looking bodyguard types right there, clearly meant to block anyone from getting out. In thick accents they ask everyone, "Are you here for the party?" to which my date and I meekly respond in the affirmative like everyone else around us.

We get escorted into a room that's right next to the balconies that look over the city (our original destination). From the looks of it, it's one of those private reception rooms that they tuck away for VIPs which is confirmed by the massive spread of fancy meats and expensive cheeses (and to my date's delight, an open bar). We split up grab food and drinks and settle in at a table with a nice old family. We start talking, turns out they're old money. Oil money, from Iran. My date and I easily charm them and tell them I'm Pacific Island chief spending time with one his wives. We're joined by more of our new friends' family members: an dancer, a factory owner, an artist. The atmosphere REEKS of culture.

The cute Iranian couple keeps introducing to other people and despite all of our charm it feels like we're only moments away from getting unmasked as interlopers. A construction exec from Florida is asking a lot of questions about our fictional pacific tribal family and the other wives when everyone just starts clapping. In walks a 30 deep entourage, more bodyguards, publicists, agents, performers (still in costume), socialites and the man himself. He strides in, arm in arm with his wife, her blushing and expressing gratitude and him beaming so proudly. Turns out that the psychedelic light show that night was her production and that Robert had also lent his voice for narration. All the rich people in the room are just as starstruck as my date and I, with the exception of our Iranian couple. "We're close friends with Robert, we see him all the time," they laugh.

My date and I queue up behind others and get pictures with Robert while his wife plays hosts mingling with the various cliques in the room. I stutter as I tell him the people of my country enjoy his films and he just smiles, looking like he could be anyone's grandfather. We say our goodbyes to our new friends, check out the balcony that we originally wanted to see, and book it before anyone could bust us. And that's why I always take elevators.



You can't force someone to love you by sheer force of will. If they do they do, if they don't they belong to someone else. If you're not allowing yourself to heal you're just letting every interaction hurt you while being blinded by nostalgia and seduced by impossible futures.


International Cringe: How I went slightly viral on accident

3 min read

About eight years ago my BYU-Hawaii friends introduced me to a fairly benign Canadian humor site called Tickld. It was an addictive meme trap with an even balance of normie and edgy content, filling the void left by picking the losing team of the Digg vs Reddit war. I was quickly hooked and even altered the No Avatar default picture from the site to be my Steam account picture.


On a whim I ended up purchasing some meme apparel and had the classic Jazzy 90s Men's T-Shirt shipped to me. After looking around stores for two weeks I was finally able to find the cups with the matching style and so in victory I posted the picture to Tickld with the caption “The stars have aligned to make this happen.” It quickly made the front page of the site and was apparently appealing enough for some enterprising individual to snag the image and cheesy caption. It was posted to Reddit three different times and eventually made it to the top of r/pics.



By the time it got to the front page of Reddit one of my friends had messaged me, asking why he was seeing a picture of me on the internet. When I finally saw it the Reddit account had already been deleted but the picture remained up. Assessing the damage with a couple of reverse image searches I saw the extent to which other opportunists had taken advantage of my cringey photo. Immediately after Reddit, it made its way to 9Gag then Facebook. Photo compilation sites like Uberhumor and Izispicy followed suite and soon it was everywhere, even internationally. My ugly mug ended up on Russian sites three different times; Polish, Greek, Spanish, even Chinese.

While I had made a Reddit account around the same time as Digg, my first and for a long time, only, interaction with the platform was commenting on the r/Pics picture- decrying the imposter as an attention whore. In the end it's both flattering and embarrassing. An innocent photo posted to a harmless Canadian site was my debut to the internet. I had lurked on the web long enough to know better than to expose myself to the degradation of that picture and that caption in a more public community like Reddit. But that’s just the nature of viral images. Digg survives but has fallen from its grand heights, Tickld is practically dead and the meme economy flourishes. I guess I’m lucky to have participated in it, even if inadvertently. And yet I’m still unwilling to sell out and start using Reddit actively.