The Coconut Timeline
Introducing the Burn It All Down Hot 5™️
This week’s episode is brought to you by CrowdStrike. Put some money under the mattress, my guy.
Or give it to me and I’ll put it under my mattress for you:
Hi friends!
A mere fortnight has passed since Donald Trump survived an assassination attempt, and just one busy week has unfolded since President Uncle Joe announced his return to bed. I don’t want to jinx anything … but with only a few hours to go, it seems we may make it through the weekend without a head-spinning, thumb-numbing political event happening in America. And if we don’t, I’m suing.
This was a huge week with unhinged energy all around. High highs, mid mids, and low lows. But we did it, you guys. We jumped to the coconut timeline.
On this timeline there is a vibrant, brilliant, hot woman taking center stage and being as authentic in her unserious eloquence as any politician could ever be. I have accused Kamala of being high for the very last time — not that there’s anything wrong with that.
The vibe shift is palpable. Even the internet stopped being a menace and brought people together to fundraise for the greater good. First 44,000 Black women got on a Zoom under the light of a full moon and opened the right kind of portal. Then more than 50,000 Black men. Then 164,000+ white women, which broke the platform. I feel inspired to organize in my community — my fellow Jews who love sandwiches, let me know some times that work for you. We’re on track to have our very first “first mensch” come January. I want to SoulCycle with Douglas.
Are things really better on this timeline? Unclear since we all lost our minds in the old reality and are now trying to find them in the new one. An embodied woman of color rises as the potential next president of the United States. And people are yelling about tradwives.
Cultural chaos is not ending its winning streak any time soon. And so, I’ve decided to start charting it.
Introducing the Burn It All Down Hot 5™️:
At number 5, we have Spongebob’s autism.
Earlier this week, the voice actor behind the internet’s favorite sponge confirmed that his character is autistic. “That's his superpower, the same way that's your superpower,” he told a fan who is on the spectrum (and everyone who has diagnosed themselves with autism after seeing a TikTok).
The comment went so viral that he felt compelled to address it at Comic-Con, "I'm not a medical doctor and SpongeBob is imaginary … so I'm not really qualified to speak.”
OK. I need a medical doctor’s take on the neurological makeup of this cartoon sponge immediately.
At number 4, we have being weird.
I feel like this track will be spending many weeks on the chart. I love being weird, so I’m not thrilled about relinquishing the word. But if it means that Kamala HQ will keep bullying Trump with this level of schoolyard pettiness, so chic in its simplicity, I will make the sacrifice.
JD Vance is objectively weird. He didn’t actually fuck a couch, but his idiotic, regressive views on women, children, and Diet Mountain Dew are weirder than couch fucking. He’s so foul he activated Jennifer Aniston who can usually be found serenely paddle-boarding in Santa Barbara.
And Trump could never stop being weird — that’s his whole thing! He’s out of his little, demented mind, it’s why we can’t stop watching. Unfortunately for all of us, he missed his calling as a professional buffoon and pursued dictatorship instead. Telling his “beautiful Christians” that this is the last time they’ll ever have to vote is freakishly dystopian. And dystopia is always a weird vibe.
At number 3, we have cocaine sharks.
Ending a major drought in aquatic unhingements, this week a bunch of sharks were caught partying against their will off the coast of Brazil. Researchers found an unprecedented amount of cocaine in the thirteen sharks they tested, which feels very sharkcore.
Every single living creature is on something: cocaine, Lexapro, a ketamine drip, a cheeky mushroom pill or two. If anyone is absolutely raw-dogging it in 2024, nary an ashwagandha in sight, please get in touch. I need to hear your story.
The rest of us are fighting for our lives. They should really be testing marine life for Adderall. Do we know if our sea creatures are on business meth yet? If any marine biologists are reading this, I have your next blockbuster paper.
At number 2, we have memesplaining.
The coconut tree is an embarrassing timeline for cable news. And a boon to the people who write boring articles that take the fun out of internet culture.
The power of the Brat meme is wild, both inside and outside of the context. I made one for work earlier this summer and I went back and checked and it was posted on June 15. And then I was like, wait, I know I’ve been going on and on about this fucking coconut tree … and the first time I mentioned it was the first week of APRIL(!!!). Here’s what I wrote (because this newsletter is my own personal grimoire):
I have no idea what the context is but Kamala Harris is out of her mind in this magnificent TikTok and I am going to need more. Gives me hope that funnier characters could take center stage in this relentless theatre of the absurd production we are the captive audience for.
Last week was very funny but we need to clear the coconut cache. I’m concerned about my ability to mark the passage of time when it’s this many months later and we’re still on the same meme.
At number 1, we have out with the old.
It actually happened, you guys. After so many years of being abused by the elders, we are on our healing journey. And we’re not going back.
A woman on the verge of 60 is being considered young. We are seeing an expression of unapologetic female power rooted in joy and humor. Trump can’t even come up with a good nickname for her. This feels like a new paradigm: lawless energy delivering the possibility that we talked about last week.
Transition has been in the air for years, but it feels like there is some urgency now, a collective need to shed stasis, to kiss well-worn edges goodbye and take the leap into something new.
I went to go see my therapist for the first time in a long time because there are some new, exciting developments in my life and in classic me fashion I decided to have a little spiral. There’s nothing quite like being confronted with the manifestation of your own delusions.
But Kamala wasn’t the only one receiving endorsements this week. According to a licensed mental health professional who has known me for seven years, I am now hinged. Yes, the phrase, “you’re hinged” came out of her mouth. Anything is possible, which is why we never give up hope.
She also drew me a very important diagram:
I’m calling it the three concentric circles of hell, but if anyone knows if this is, like, a named thing, do let me know. The gist of it is: You can stay inside your comfort zone but then nothing changes. Or overshoot what you can handle and end up in panic. The middle circle is where change and growth happen. It’s also the discomfort zone — that janky place where you don’t really know what you’re doing but have all the potential to figure it out. That’s where I’m supposed to be living, in all my hinged glory.
And, I’m going to try because time is marching forwards and it’s time to shoot some shots. No use hanging on to the past for comfort when the present is so bonkers and the future looks as uncertain as they come.
What do any of us have to lose by going outside of our comfort zone? The old version of ourself, for one. But I think that unhinged bitch is already gone. Off somewhere smoking ciggies and doing a TikTok dance with my inner child.
Since the thrill of the unknown is such a huge part of my latest evolution, I am literally never saying another word about when I’m sending this newsletter. It has become an inadvertent bit and I can’t with myself. So, see you when I see you (sometime next week for sure). And take care — it’s all so real, but we might just make it.
Less Lessons More Blessins™️
Liz