Welcome to The Rational Lambpoon
Please leave your pants, lawyers, and retainers at the door
If you don’t read this article, the offices of the National Lampoon will shoot me for copyright infringement.
You may have noticed changes around these parts, and I don’t mean sudden changes in the narrative around who is a woman and who is not. No sirs and/or ladies or whatever, I mean changes at this here newsletter. Big changes. The kind that need to be announced. That's how you know it’s big.
The previous name, The Lamb Jam, was entirely too stupid to leave standing. Oh sure, there are other reasons. Real reasons for the change. I promise. But a stupid name is as good as any of them to change it.
So, I present to you, The Rational Lambpoon. Fret not, friends. Rebrands are merely sleights of hand. Magicianry. Illusion. Politics. Cease and Desist Letters, etc.
The content here won’t change and I won’t suddenly start waxing intellectual about this or that thing. But I cannot promise I won’t wax vulgarly about waxing this or that thing. That’s a joke about masturbation, by the way. I know it isn’t great. I know there are many like it, but this one is mine.
But aside from jerk-jerk jokes for jerk-jerking jerks, I do have some plans I may execute if the fancy strikes me.
For the first time ever, I’m planning on tossing up a paywall. Now, before you clutch your wallets and pearls and penises, I’d like to stress the fact most content will be free. Nobody knows who I am, excepting the FBI and friends. Nor do they know how hilarious and handsome I am. So, I have to give it away for free for now. Stuff like my Antipho and Bud and Soil satires will be free and arrive when I bloody well feel like writing the things or when my cats stop dying on me.
But I am writing a new book and I’m planning on publishing still-rough-but-got-some-polish-chapters as I finish them here. So, if that’s something you would be interested in, you’ll have to subscribe to my premium option. You’ll also be invited to tear it apart, if you have no care for my personal wellbeing, and I strongly encourage that.
The book is a novel - a novel project for me - that follows a homeless kid as he tries to get by. Over the course of the thing, he meets some interesting people and creatures who inspire him to reach for more. He is cynical, short, strangely stupid in some ways and brilliant in others.
It isn't what is known disparagingly as a Young Adult Novel. I’m not writing it for kids. I’m writing it for me. So, I want it to be a Middle-Aged Balding Adult Novel, instead. Also, I’d like it to be good.
It just happens to follow a kid, because they’re empty and don’t know anything. They literally haven’t lived long enough to know things. Everything confuses them, so as a narrative vehicle it works great. But they’re also more likely to strike deals, bargains, and covenants with whoever. Again, because they know nothing about upsides and downsides or tradeoffs.
And really that’s what it’s about. The give and take of a covenant between strangers. One of whom is quite strange, indeed. Quid pro quo, Clarice. The way of the world and of the gods. What a strange coincidence.
But I hope to add just enough to make the way of the world entertaining. There will be magic of a sort. I know you all live in the world already, quite familiar with it. But you might be turning to me to do something about that, even just for a few minutes. We’ll see how I do but what I’ve got so far has certainly entertained me.
So ciao, friends! Please look forward to it. And every once in a while, poke me with a stick to make sure I’m like, actually writing the thing still. Or to drop off some paper towels. Both of those things are euphemisms for subscribe.
But in the meantime, my collection of silly travel journals is available for purchase here.