Couple of curious things about this packaging:

1. It’s trying to market food and it looks repulsive.

2. The design team apparently decided using the “disgusting chocolate drum” graphic was worth it to be able to keep the “Smashing” adjective in the product name.

3. “Smashing” is not at all synonymous with musical percussion. It is only, at best, tangentially related.

4. They could have easily kept “Smashing” and gone with a different graphic entirely.

5. Like keep “Smashing” but use a British theme. A picture of the candy wearing a crown and holding a scepter. That took me three seconds to come up with.

Matt Powers lives in New York.

More Twitter wisdom from economist Umair Haque. He’s one of the only people in my feed consistently talking about How Not Okay Everything Is, and I find that refreshing. (Elon Green is another one: “Take your time, motherfuckers. RT @politicalwire: White House Continues to Weigh Climate Change Options”)

While most professional comedians keep busy by involving themselves in many different projects, it seems like Jenny Slate has a lot going on even compared to her most diligent peers. In addition to recurring roles on Parks and Recreation, House of Lies, and Kroll Show, Slate is writing the new Looney Tunes movie for Warner Brothers and, as she reveals in the following interview, co-writing an independent movie based on her hit viral video, “Marcel the Shell with Shoes On.” On top of all of that, she has a new web series, Catherine, which debuted on the YouTube comedy channel JASH last month. Slate stars in Catherine as the title character and also co-writes the series with her husband, Dean Fleischer-Camp, who directs. Three new episodes of Catherine are set to debut today, and I had the chance to talk to Slate about the series, why she’s turning Marcel the Shell into a movie, and the sitcom pilot she starred in with Kristen Schaal and June Diane Raphael that ABC bafflingly didn’t pick up.

So how’d you end up working with JASH?

I think my husband Dean had a meeting with Daniel Kellison. He had directed for Sarah Silverman, and they just asked us to come in and meet with them. We heard that they were looking for maybe some unconventional ideas, and that’s always exciting. So yeah, we went in and met with Daniel one day a couple months ago. It was very easy. That’s what it was.

Where did the idea for the web series come from?

It was a perfect storm of a lot of different things that we had been watching on TV. I was super stoned at my house, and Dean and I were talking about the idea of “what is normal and what is neutral.” Not trying to be being boring and not trying to not be funny, but what is exactly straight down the middle? What is it when you’re not trying to do anything? You’re not trying to be boring; you’re not necessarily trying to be funny. You’re just existing somewhere in the middle. I started to act out this scene that you see in episode one of Catherine. It made us laugh really hard, so we started to write down more. We never thought that anybody would pay us to make them, but I’m really glad that they did [Laughs].

It has to be a unique writing process, writing something with such a specific tone.

It’s hard because the smallest details will make one of us say to the other one, “You’re pushing it too much.” Like, the way that Catherine hangs up the phone, we’ll be really specific about it. I’ll say something, and he will be like, “No, that’s too vague.” We’re always trying to stay in that zone, and it’s really hard. It’s really hard to act in that zone, as well, because as a comedian, it’s obviously my instinct to try to make every living thing smile into my face so that I feel happy [Laughs].

Do you have to get other actors to tone down their performances to fit into that specific world?

You know, that’s not really my area. That’s Dean, but he has such a calm confidence on set that I never saw him say to anybody, “You’re doing too much” and making them feel bad or something because obviously, I think that’s the worst thing you can say to a comedian is to tell them that they’re doing too much. I mean, most of us do do too much, but to me, I always take it really personally because I feel like someone is saying, “You’re trying too hard.” But you know, that’s how it goes, and I never once saw Dean do that. He just keeps a pretty calm control. He was really focused on the look of Catherine and put it together. I wrote it with him, but on the days of the shoot, I felt mostly just like an actress.

Did you guys have any inspirations for the tone? Were there other shows you looked to in terms of capturing this neutral tone?

Yeah, we really, really like the look of shows like Mr. Bean or Keeping Up Appearances, two really British shows. And a lot of people have mentioned to us now that Catherine kind of looks like instructional videos, but I think we just wanted it to have a fairly neutral tone. When we watch Mr. Bean or Keeping Up Appearances, something about the camera and the colors… I don’t know what it is. I would never know how to put it together, but Dean knew exactly what to do. But it’s also still that thing of not trying to push it, you know, like not having the weird little computer. It’s hard to gather the props and set dressing in that way, but I feel like he did it very well.

It almost feels like Twin Peaks to me in a certain way tonally.

Yeah. Well, you know what? I was also watching a lot of Twin Peaks at the time. I’m kind of reluctant [to mention it] because it’s not a Lynch spoof. To us, we were really motivated by wanting to do a new kind of thing, but at the time, I was watching a lot of Twin Peaks. It’s just so eerie, but sometimes it’s so funny and sometimes it’s really, really scary and it all exists in that one world. Yeah, I’m sure that was really in the front of my mind.

In terms of generating ideas when you write, how is working solo different from working with Dean or working with Gabe Liedman?

It’s a lot more loud and explosive working with Dean and Gabe. Gabe and I have been friends and have been a comedy duo since we were 18 years old, so with us, it’s just part of a conversation that’s already going on. It’s very rare that we have to switch gears. We met each other as creative partners basically, so it’s just really, really fun and easy. It’s always easiest for me when I work with a partner because I have my doubts fall away because I can see in their face whether or not I’m entertaining them or whether or not I’m making that connection. And when I’m working by myself, it’s just more of a — I wouldn’t even say “subdued” — it’s just like a peaceful, slow dance towards the end.

Do you guys have any future plans for Marcel the Shell?

Yeah, we’ve been trying to make it into a TV show and had a few different ways we could have gone with it, but every time there was someone who wanted to do it, the conversation became a lot about merchandising and who would have the rights to the character. Dean and I didn’t want to give up our creative rights. We didn’t think we should have to because there are millions of people online who like it just as it is and we certainly didn’t want to go the Angry Birds route and have Marcel all over the place. Not that I’m saying it would have been like that, but it can get out of control and Marcel, I think, is very cute. People want to play that up, and that’s really not my favorite part about him at all.

So, we were doing that, and there were a lot of nice people who were interested, but there was just one day where Dean and I — I don’t know which one of us said it first but — one of us just said, “This really bums me out. I’m really uncomfortable. We did this for fun, and it’s not fun anymore, and everybody scares us.” They were trying to make us some sort of offer here, and we just decided to step back. I think what we really want to do and what we are going to do now is to independently fund a feature of Marcel. That’s really what we wanted to do in the first place, and I think we just never thought that we could do it because everybody was saying TV to us and I think we thought we should be obedient and do that, but it really turned out to not be right. So, now we’ll make a movie.

Have you guys started writing that yet?

The process of Marcel is not really heavily written, but we’re working on the plotline. It’s just how it goes. It’s really heavily improvised.

Are you allowed to say what TV networks you were in negotiations with?

Oh no, I have no interest in doing that. [Laughs] I have no interest in making anyone into the bad guy when that is not at all what it was. It just wasn’t the right fit for me and Dean, and everybody that we met with genuinely loved Marcel. Everyone is nice, but then it’s also show business, and sometimes, show business isn’t, like, right. Sometimes, show business doesn’t feel right, and then you have to step back and wait until the right business arrangement can be made.

You mentioned the cute side of Marcel isn’t your favorite part of the character. What is?

Well, I think it’s easy to look at Marcel and say that he’s small and cute and that he has a little voice. I totally get that, and I agree with it. His casual honesty, I guess, is what I like.

How did filming the pilot for ABC’s Pulling go?

Oh, it was so much fun. I loved it. I loved the script and where it ended up. Obviously, the writers are really smart and the director, Jason Moore, is very, very talented, but what was really special for me was getting to work with Kristen [Schaal] and June [Diane Raphael]. It’s a show about three people in their 30s who are trying to make their lives work, and it’s nice that they cast three women who are actually in their 30s [and] who are real. That was really exciting to me to work with two other female comedians that have very strong and very clearly developed voices.

To me, it felt like it had a real true heart, like we were really going in there every day and everybody just had a great attitude. When you make a pilot, you never know what will happen to it. I feel like I always have to exist somewhere in the middle. Like, I don’t want to say, “Yeah, for sure! It’ll change or lives” or “No, the industry is dark.” I can’t do either one of those things because neither one of those things are true.

For me, when we left, it was like, ‘Well, this might be the only time we do this, but I leave with the knowledge that this was one of my favorite things that I’ve ever done and I’m really proud of my work.’ I’ve known Kristen for many, many years, but I never really got to work with her and she is an angel. She is the nicest person, and same with June. They’re people that we circulate and we see each other at shows or parties, but to get to know both of them… June is incredibly talented. She’s so pretty and together and good at her job and she’s so funny. Being around her and Kristen feels like I got into a popular group or something. They’re really cool sweet women. We had a lovely time.

Is there still talk of bringing it to another network?

I don’t know. That would be great, and I just haven’t really been chasing after that info because I’m not sure that that’s a healthy thing for me to do. I hope so. That would be very great.

Yeah, I was pretty disappointed to hear it didn’t get picked up by ABC. It seems like such a funny group.

Yeah, it’s pretty sad. It doesn’t really make sense to me, but I don’t really know what goes on. I don’t know how to run a network; I don’t know what they need. I know what I need as a woman and a consumer, but I don’t need what everyone else needs. I know for sure when we wrapped up the pilot — and I haven’t even seen it — I walked away from it thinking, ‘This is really good. I hope they take a chance on it.’

Were you a fan of Parks and Rec before you were cast on the show?

Yeah, yeah, I’ve always been a fan of the show. I think it’s incredibly funny and fast and it has the thing that I always hope comedy will have, which is a sweet heart. And I think it’s got real heart.

What was your experience like on the show?

It was a total dream. Joe Mande came up with the character idea and called me and said, “Would you come in and play this character?” I said, “Obviously, I will.” I’d worked with Ben [Schwartz] before because I do House of Lies with him. It felt like doing a fun skit at camp or something. I go there, they put me in this ridiculous costume, and I play this crazy blown-out character, and then I get to be around the cast members, who are all people I truly admire. It was a real pleasure for me.

Can you talk a little about the Looney Tunes movie that you’re writing?

I don’t know what I’m allowed to say about it, but I will say that I love writing it and I love the research that I did for it, which is basically watch one million cartoons and categorize all the characters. It’s a really, really fun world to be in. It’s just an instant, really fast, punchy fun world, and the people that I work with at Warner Brothers and at [production companies] Heyday and KatzSmith are so nice to me. I’ve never written a movie before, and there are a lot of questions I have to ask that I feel are very stupid. They actually had to give me the new version of Final Draft, and I had to like buy a new computer. They seem to just put faith in my ideas and because they’ve always been supportive of me as a creative person, writing this has been a real pleasure and I’m proud that they let me do it. I love it, and I like the story that I’ve written a lot. You know, we’ll see. I don’t know. There might be somebody else there writing one that’s better, but I like the one that I’m writing. So, that’s all I can say. What else can I do except for like the shit that I’m doing and try to not be an asshole?

Half of the country’s new HIV cases are in the rural South. James Hamblin explores why in The Atlantic. (One reason: “In a Mississippi classroom, high school teacher Sharon Morris is trying to teach sex education without acknowledging condoms, because in that district it’s not legal.”)

Molly Mills is a name I’ve made up for a 24-year-old college grad living with her parents and interning in Boston. We talked about her career so far, including stints working on campaigns; a program called the Startup Institute that turned things around (and sounds better than college); and how to negotiate. She’s a young person to feel good about.

LS: Okay! So to start, what is your current life status—do you have a job? Do you have debt? Savings?

MM: I have been very, very, fortunate to have parents and grandparents who have contributed to my education, so I have no debt, and right now I’m lucky enough to be living at home with my parents. I have an internship that pays, which is great, so for the first time, I really feel like I am able to save.

LS: How old are you/how long have you been out of school?

MM: I turned 24 in April, and I finished college in December of 2011. I went to a liberal arts college and studied political science—which I love—but basically since sophomore year I been wondering what I will do with my life.

LS: What happened right after you graduated?

MM: Right after college I was pretty convinced I was going to go to law school. I started studying for the LSAT, etc, etc. Then I did my research and realized that THERE ARE NO JOBS, and that law schools would say their grads were employed in a legal position but really they were working in the university’s law library for three months. And $150,000 of intense studying for a degree which everyone else in the world seemed to have suddenly seemed like a very foolish idea. I wasn’t sure I could get into a top 10 law school, which was really the only way to guarantee the cost/benefit analysis would come out in my favor. Or be from a family of lawyers, but I’m not.

LS: Would you have had to take out loans?

MM: I didn’t even get that far into it. I think my parents would have paid for some, but only if I got into a good school and only if they saw me excited about it. And I was getting less and less excited. Around the time I was freaking out about that, a friend of mine told me he was managing a congressional race across the country, and asked if I would like to come and join him! This seemed to be the one of the only other practical application for political science: law school, campaigns, lobbying, think tanks, The Hill.

So I talked about it with my parents, and we decided that I could probably figure out what I wanted to do with my life in three years for less than $150,000. The idea being that very very few people with a B.A. are ready for full-time, career-track employment. Or rather, employers aren’t ready for them. So I set out dividing my life up into segments and not freaking out (too much) that I didn’t know where I would be in four months.

LS: That’s really smart. I like your mom.

MM: I do too! And so it began. So the first segment was California, for my friend’s campaign. I got the title “deputy campaign manager,” which was crazy. We lost in the primary, so I moved back home again. And then in a freak totally serendipitous proves-you-should-get-out-of-the-house event, I found myself volunteering for a local state representative race a week before their primary. A week after I started volunteering I was offered the job as a campaign manager. I was overwhelmed but took it, and was able to make some great local connections, people who helped me in the fall but also good people to know now. The only downside was that I worked 60-80 hours a week and got $200/week for it.

LS: Oh shit. Is that normal???

MM: For that kind of a race, I think it is. Sometimes it’s $1,000/month, plus a bonus if you win. But my candidate took out loans to run (most do), so it felt really weird to say, “Hey, give me more of your money.” I think the longer you do this kind of stuff, and the bigger your race is, the more you get paid. But nobody does it for the money.

Fortunately, we won that race. (Winning feels better than losing, in case you were wondering.)

LS: Does this interview end with you working in the White House?

MM: Hahah, I WISH, do you know anyone??

No, what it ends up with is me realizing I didn’t want to work for $200 per week for the rest of my life, moving from state to state wherever the next campaign was. I did this whole analysis of what I liked about campaigns and what I didn’t. Did I want to go work in the state house? They get paid $32,000 and what do you do after that?  So, probably not. Then what did I want to do? So thus began my next “four month” stage of my life.

Then I heard of this program called Startup Institute. I don’t remember where. Twitter? A blog? Somewhere on the internet. It’s an eight-week program where they teach you SKILLS! There are four tracks: sales, marketing, software dev, and ux/ui design. They aim to help people who may be going through a professional crisis to switch gears, learn about startups, or just buff up on their product design skills, for example. That sounded like me, and I liked the idea of a startup—people passionate about their work, working hard, etc.—kind of like a political campaign. So I applied, and then I interviewed, and then I got in!

It was great, because all of our teachers—we had classes every day—were individuals from startups in Boston. They would come in and teach us about something they were an expert in, PLUS we got to quiz them/network with them. Half of it was learning skills, and half was the networking.

LS: That sounds amazing. How much did this cost?

MM: So, I paid $2,500, which was the early fee, and my parents helped with that. But they have payment plans and whatnot, too. BUT: If you get a real, salaried job with one of their sponsors, the sponsor pays your tuition back. So there is clearly an incentive to network and get a job at any of the partner companies.

The way it works at the end, is that all 55 of us give a big pitch. We stand up in a room and anyone who wants to hire comes and listens. So we have one minute to explain who we are and what we’re looking for. And we were outnumbered last time, with more employers than students, obviously there is a heavy demand for developers, but if you give a good pitch, people come and talk to you.

LS: And how did that work out for you?

MM: I got my internship through the program, and then beyond that, I got taught how to negotiate, which my mom pointed out was worth the money.

LS: Tell me about it.

MM: The internship offered me $12 per hour, and I was kind of disappointed, because I’ve made more than that ($12.50 at a summer job!) and one of the startup employees was like, no, you need to ask for more. And I was petrified! I’d never done that before, and what if they think I’m pushy, or what if they rescind the offer? But he was like, “No, you need to do this. This is what companies do.” And he basically handheld me through the process and read my email and made sure it looked good. And I got the pay raise, PLUS the free subway pass I asked for. They didn’t even try to talk me down.

LS: Hand hold me through the proces.

MM: So, it was an email, which was easier. So here is my initial response to the offer:

Hi FUTURE BOSS PERSON,
Thanks for the offer! I’m honored. I’ll need until the end of the week before giving you a final answer (our instructors are keeping us very busy!).

Hope your weekend was good

Thank you,
MOLLY

And then the follow-up to that:

Hi FUTURE BOSS PERSON,

Thank you for the offer for a summer internship, and I am anxious to accept. I wanted to work through a couple points, though.

I have spent the past eight weeks immersed in learning marketing skills and techniques at Startup Institute and I am driven to succeed in all aspects of life; for this position I would feel more comfortable earning $16/hr for my work. Finally, would it be possible for COMPANY to pay for my monthly T pass?

Looking forward to working with you and the team!

MOLLY

LS: I just got so excited reading that. LEANING IN!!!!!!

MM: I know! I was so happy! I was giddy for a week. I was thinking they’d say, well, $14 per hour and no T pass. Which I would have taken. But I cannot tell you HOW NERVOUS I was. But I learned: that’s what’s expected. Play up your strengths, commitment, and express excitement to start. And make sure you proofread it a million times.

Really the whole email is like a Mad Libs: Insert [previous job] and [level of commitment] and [how anxious you are to start], but you’ll need [x dollars].

LS: It sounds like this program is better than college. What were the other people there like? Were most of them young?

MM: Most of us were under 30. There was one woman who was re-entering the workforce, she had three kids and was a software engineer, but had been home for seven years or something. There was one 17-year-old. Most everyone else was fresh out of college and not loving their jobs.

LS: Did you have, uh, computer experience before?

MM: No. I hadn’t done any web development or learned Java or Python or anything. Obviously, the marketing track is going to learn different skills than the software track, so I’m not going to do all the back-end work for your site, but (especially with a little more practice) I can do some very basic stuff. I learned things, but I also learned what I *could* know. And where I can turn for help (professionally).

LS: So whats next for you?

MM: I prefer the research and analytical aspects of my job, and I am trying to buff up my r/sql/python skills (i.e., learn them) this summer so I can position myself as someone with SKILLS and be hired.

LS: What would be your number 1 dream, right now?

MM: Knowing very little about this actual job description, I think it would be some sort of analyst. Like, here’s all this information and please sort through it and make sense of it. And that information could be any sort of thing: companies, data, political stuff. It’s super vague, I know. But I have definitely narrowed it down in the last 18 months.

LS: Do you have a due date you’ve set for getting a job, moving out?

MM: I don’t have a due date. I probably should, but my parents are totally fine having me here, and I work hard to let them know I appreciate it. It’s silly, but most of the time being home isn’t too bad.  We’re near public transit, so I take that every day, and I can see friends without any more trouble than I would otherwise. Plus rent in Boston is EXPENSIVE.

LS: I lived at home for a year two years ago and really liked it. Theres so much food. Clean towels.

MM: I know! And a kitchen. It’s not my long-term goal to stay here, obviously. I will reassess in the fall when my internship is over and when I know what my future employment status is looking like. I’m looking forward to being financially independent.

During Diablo II’s “boom years” of the mid-2000s, a small, dedicated set of gamers sought to capitalize on the game’s mounting interest and rapidly expanding economy by selling items for real world dollars through eBay. Many made good money doing so. While hardcore gamers loved it, average players hated it – feeling that it imperilled Diablo’s intrinsically meritocratic form of wealth distribution – yet both sides agreed that the situation was unsustainable. Items were frequently stolen, accounts were mistakenly deleted by Blizzard and finally, after eBay’s banning of the sale of virtual goods in 2007 pushed the sale of Diablo II items completely under the table, it was clear that some type of compromise was necessary. And thus, the real money auction house was born.

I have never played Diablo but this post by the Ivey Business Review about the history of the game’s virtual economy is totally fascinating.

More ways unemployment messes everything up for everyone: Great workers become eh workers. “The deterioration of employment prospects during a deep, prolonged recession might induce some elite workers to lose their pro-work ethic. Since identities are sticky, they might keep their new identity even when the recession is long past.”

Via our pal Jon Custer, here is a really great piece in BBC’s News magazine about Latifa Nabizada, who, with her sister Laliuma, became the first two women pilots in Afghan air force history. When Latifa gave birth to her daughter, she took her to work and in the air with her.

The recent court rulings in favor of the Black Swan and Conde Nast interns brings up conflicting feelings for me.

Like a lot of college graduates—particularly one in a creative field—I had an internship my first summer out of college for a local magazine. At the time, I knew that some internships were paid and some were not. I was prepared to work for free for three months for this magazine as a stepping stone to something bigger. What I didn’t realize as an intern was just how much that free work would cost me.

For three months, I worked part time at a restaurant in San Francisco for $10 per hour, for about 15 hours a week as a hostess. I lived with my sister rent-free in a suburb in the East Bay so I had to commute every day to San Francisco for my 20-hour-a-week internship and part-time job. In the span of three months, I overdrew my account twice, changed jobs, and borrowed a bunch of money from my sister to stay afloat.

But I did all this in hopes of getting valuable training and contacts. I saw from previous email addresses that many interns at this magazine went on to become contributors, and sometimes, even editors. But it was a small place, and I had no idea if a full-time editorial position would open up just as I was finishing my final month as an intern.

I got hired pretty quickly and moved my way up. Pretty soon I was in charge of the intern pool and I started feeling a bit uncomfortable at times. Actually looking up the definition of “intern” under the Department of Labor made me extra vigilant about how I ran the operation: No overtime. No coffee runs. No excessive amounts of paper pushing. And assignments, assignments, assignments. I gave direct feedback when I had time between proofreading other features. I gave interns interviews to do, articles to write, PR people to contact, articles to proofread (along with training on proofreading).

Once, I passed on a chance to interview Lady Gaga (before she was famous), and assigned it to one of my interns. It was a top story on our website for weeks. Our interns saw an entire production cycle of an issue and reaped the benefits of grateful editors willing to help them along with their careers. Four were later hired in various positions from photo editor to copyeditor to web editor.

Having been on both sides of interning, it’s hard for me to figure out what these court rulings mean. There are some legit internships out there with job training. If companies have to pay interns, then most companies (especially in publishing) will simply cut their programs. If companies confine internships to university students only, they leave out people who are trying to break into industries or people too poor to attend university but have a desire to work in a business like journalism.

Obviously, it’s time that people cracked down on the abuse of interns. But not all internships are useless wastes of time. And not all companies with internships are evil jerks preying on innocent post-grad kids.

Katie Peoples lives in San Diego and is an ESL teacher by day, writer by night.

For three years, the National Association of Colleges and Employers has asked graduating seniors if they’ve received a job offer and if they’ve ever had either a paid or unpaid internship. And for three years, it’s reached the same conclusion: Unpaid internships don’t seem to give college kids much of a leg up when it comes time to look for employment.

Jordan Weissmann looked at a survey by NACE showing that college students who do unpaid internships aren’t more likely to get a job than students who never interned (students who do paid internships are). He says we’re left with a little bit of mystery about why this is, but I’d guess that the students who aren’t doing internships are simply working a regular job, and that’s also valuable. When I was in college, I had part-time job working in my college’s housing office, mostly doing administrative work and answering questions from new students and parents. That kind of experience was probably a lot more helpful in getting a job after I graduated than fetching coffee and transcribing interviews at an unpaid internship.

Also, yes to this:

It might also be time to stop calling post-collegiate internships “internships.” As Intern Bridge Vice President Robert Shindell said to me, whether or not they’re paid, they really are just generally temp jobs with a fancy title.

Photo: Sean MacEntee