When I started my first journalism job out of college, I was 22 and writing at a small-ish newspaper in the middle of Texas.
Back then, I hung out with a lot of TV reporters. It made sense; we all saw each other at car wrecks, murders, city councils and school board meetings.
We'd get beers after work together and rehash the day. We were all young, single and eternally broke, making terrible money even by small-town standards (the TV reporters were the poorest — if you didn't have a rich parents, you were screwed).
And of course, we'd complain about our jobs. I'd gripe about having to write about zoo elephants eating leftover Halloween pumpkins. They'd be mad about having to cover their millionth house fire.
Why did they do it?
"You always have to remember," one TV reporter told me, "that you're watching a show."
Their point was: yes, it wasn't the biggest news, but flames looked good on camera. Therefore more people watched. Therefore it was news.
This has left me with a permanent presumption that everything on TV is fake.
And it’s worse now, because it’s bled into everything else, too. We’re all on social media, and everyone, even your parents, are constantly trying to go viral. And it’s exhausting.
Which brings me to Phoebe Bridgers, who was the musical guest on SNL this weekend. At the end of her second song, she "smashed" up her guitar. But this wasn't The Who. It wasn’t Kurt Cobain diving into a drum kit.
No, it was very sad and very 2021. She hit her monitor with a few halfhearted swings, complete with realistic looking "sparks." Eventually she got tired of it and they went to commercial.
Why did she do this, even though she clearly wasn't into it?
Because she was trying to go viral. I'm sure her manager told her to, or at least strongly encouraged her to pull off the stunt. It would get the internet buzzing, and lead to a few additional Sunday morning headlines.
That got me thinking about politics and everything else we watch on TV.
Like Marjorie Taylor Greene, a very stupid and very cunning Congresswoman from Georgia. Does she really believe that school shootings were faked or that Jewish Space Lasers really started wildfires in California?
I don't think so. But honestly, it doesn't matter. She's in the fame game, too. Look at the coverage she's gotten. Even if she gets expelled from Congress now, she's accomplished her objective: getting attention. Breaking through the clutter and dominating a few news cycles.
She's set herself up to Be Famous. Well, not super famous, but famous enough. At the very least, some Koch or Mercer-funded outfit will pay her a few hundred thousand dollars a year after she leaves office. She won.
And literally everyone else is trying to do that, too. With capitalism collapsing, the lack of good middle-class jobs, and too many overly encouraging parents, everyone is trying to make something that gets popular — their cupcake shop, their funny needlepoints on etsy, their podcast, their Twitch stream.
If you’re a nobody, going viral is one of the few paths to a middle class life now.
And it never stops, no matter how big you get. Why do you think Ted Cruz constantly is having "Twitter wars" with Seth Rogan? He's trying to get his fame up. So is Seth Rogan.
My sneaking suspicion is that nobody actually believes what they're saying anymore. Hang out with Republican staffers and they'll reassure you that their boss doesn't "really" hate trans people or immigrants, he's actually super cool behind the scenes.
The reality is worse: they’re just trying to keep their voters happy and supportive.
Alex Jones’s lawyer has admitted that his show is just an act, despite him regularly calling for revolution against the deep state. But why would he want an actual revolution when he can make millions selling supplements?
But it's not just right wing politicians and con artists. Everyone does it.
Over the last 10 years, there’s been a wave of “cancelling comedians” whose jokes don’t live up to modern standards.
But it’s not genuine outrage. It’s a career path. Call out somebody more famous than you. Get Twitter followers. Get a book deal.
Everybody’s faking it for clicks.
Nobody's THAT amazed at the new Star Wars movie trailer, despite how much they ham it up for their reaction videos on youtube. But you do what you have to do to get attention.
It’s all fake.
Nobody's THAT happy to be streaming Minecraft for the millionth time. But if you watch it, they'll keep doing it. Beats having a real job.
If you get a sponsor, it’s not “selling out” anymore — it’s getting your paper up!
I’m no better. I'm writing this substack for the same reason.
The attention economy is shitty and soul-sucking and unavoidable. We all are just trying to get rich enough to have a relatively comfortable life (which of course, only rich people can afford.)
Start a side hustle. Start an OnlyFans. Start a podcast. Say the craziest shit you can think of, just do the most important thing: build an audience.
I used to think it was just limited to the staged world of pro wrestling. In wrestling, they call it a "work" when something is fake. They're not really mad at each other, despite all the screaming and yelling.
Jerry Lawler didn’t hate Andy Kaufmann, even though he slapped him on David Letterman.
It was a work. But everything’s a work now.
The funny thing is that I liked Phoebe Bridgers’ songs on SNL. She didn't have to pretend smash a guitar. Her art was good enough.
This is genuinely very insightful. I also really like the writing cadence and style, there’s much more tangible and authentic personality in it than what I’m used to reading. 10/10