Better than Sex?

The Hinternet Catches Election Fever!

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Some of you will already have recognized the present essay’s name as a variation, distinguished only by its lone punctuation mark, on the title of Hunter S. Thompson’s 1994 collection of articles, essays, faxes, and other scattered communications emitted over the preceding years. That same book’s subtitle is Confessions of a Political Junkie, which implies that it is, precisely, politics that our patron saint of gonzo wishes to place in comparison with sex. We have significant evidence that by that late date Thompson had long since lost his virginity, not least the birth of his son Juan 31 years prior, which leaves me, at least, wondering what sort of experience he must have had in both of these domains of human folly that should have caused him to venture such a juxtaposition.

We may at least agree that sex and politics merit some comparison. For one thing, they are alike in that almost all writing about either of them threatens ever to lapse into vulgarity. For the same reason these are also the most lucrative domains of human folly to tap for anyone with an online following, or even just an internet connection. In fact politics probably is better than sex, at least in this regard, that writing about it (them?) consistently proves to be the best way to transform Substack, for example, into a virtual ATM with practically unlimited available funds. Need to withdraw a couple grand? Home-down-payment savings account not growing fast enough? Just crank something out with “MAGA” or “Supreme Court” or “brokered convention” in the title, position your paywall at just the right spot a few paragraphs in, and sit back and watch as that sweet sweet cash starts flowing in. One would be a fool not to appreciate such an incentive as this. We online writers, when it comes down to it, are none of us so unlike those Macedonian teenagers who, circa 2015, had just started up their low-traffic porn sites only to discover soon enough that the real money was in pumping out propaganda for the Trump campaign. 

I confess I’ve given in to the same temptation — or at least half of me has. You see, I discovered the most remarkable option hidden in my Substack settings, whereby I can opt, on any given Sunday, to share two entirely different pieces. This week, 50% of my readers, selected at random, will receive an exquisite essay I wrote about the subtle relationship between death and irony in Chekhov’s deeply moving short story, “The Runaway” (1887), while the other half, likewise chosen at random by Substack’s secret algorithm, will get a steaming mound of pure political chum thrown their way, as I reveal which candidate I am going to vote for come November, and I explain how I arrived at this decision.

To which half of my loyal readership did the algorithm assign you? Keep reading to find out!