McSweeney’s

New Updates on the Arc of the Moral Universe

Amanda Lehr — Fri, 06 Nov 2026 13:00:00 -0500

“The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice.”
— Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

- - -

The arc of the moral universe scrolls in bed.

The arc of the moral universe says, Holy fucking shit.

The arc of the moral universe recalls the taste of food, the sound of water, the touch of grass.

The arc of the moral universe is libbing out.

The arc of the moral universe decides a little libbing out is okay.

The arc of the moral universe eats leftover Halloween candy for breakfast.

The arc of the moral universe is manically repainting its kitchen. Blue spatters the walls.

The arc of the moral universe missed some spots.

The arc of the moral universe may not say it aloud, but it’s grateful for that intervention you staged because, Christ, shit was getting DARK.

The arc of the moral universe reads all the firsts with deep joy.

The arc of the moral universe reads all the firsts with deep shame.

The arc of the moral universe can be a little eager to rest on its laurels.

The arc of the moral universe brought the coffee but forgot the donuts.

The arc of the moral universe is working on itself.

The arc of the moral universe says, Alhamdulillah.

The arc of the moral universe says, I believe you.

The arc of the moral universe thinks everyone needs to get out of Black women’s way.

The arc of the moral universe picks up glass with its bare hands.

The arc of the moral universe visits a vast cemetery. The earth is freshly turned.

I’m sorry, whispers the arc of the moral universe. I’m sorry that I didn’t make it in time.

The arc of the moral universe steals a bulldozer and drives it into a data center.

The arc of the moral universe thanks you for posting bail.

The arc of the moral universe wants to do more than it’s been doing.

The arc of the moral universe wants so much from you.

The arc of the moral universe wants so much for you.

The arc of the universe can’t help it if its love language is Bending Slightly and yours is Unceasing Toil.

The arc of the moral universe wants you to love it.

The arc of the moral universe knows it’s not easy to love.

But, under your hands, it bends.

Author Bios for Gen X Women Whose Fiction Has Yet to Be Published

Amy Powell Faeskorn — Fri, 06 Nov 2026 08:00:00 -0500

Michelle knows damn well the ending to her 50-word flash piece isn’t quite right but has no freaking clue how to fix it. When not combing through Reedsy articles on the importance of sensory details in advancing plot, she can be found in her VW Atlas plucking chin hairs with her Swiss Army knife tweezers while parked outside Target, trying to remember if she unplugged her curling iron.

- - -

Lisa is a wife, mother, and menopause survivor (C-PTSD). She meditates on the significance of rejection phrasing such as “Our judges found a lot to admire” and “We weren’t able to move forward with your submission” while walking the neighborhood—at heart rate zone three, HIIT equivalent—in her sixteen-pound weighted vest.

- - -

Kimberly’s half-assed attempts to win the NYC Midnight Two-Story Writing Challenge include a rom-com about pickleball-playing divorcées and a tale of horror that reads like Goonies fan fiction. Along with an ode to her Christmas cactus and colored pencil doodles that will surely unlock a flow state, they remain unfinished in her notebook. She’s currently at work on a grocery list that accurately reflects the contents of her pantry.

- - -

Melissa holds tight to the impossible dream of opening the latest issue of n+1 and seeing her name in print. A regular practitioner of cyclic sighing, she wonders if she should switch to prose poetry or if it all just boils down to how stringy her hair looks in her Duosuma profile photo.

- - -

Jennifer writes from a grey flat-pack desk she scored on Wayfair, not unlike a TV tray table set up under her bedroom window overlooking the tenth hole of her HOA’s golf course. Her work appears in worn-out pocket portfolios and peeling three-ring binders hidden under her husband’s sweatpants on the armchair. She attends innumerable Zoom writing classes, where she silently curses the full-blown puffery in the chat window. None of her stories are forthcoming.

We Billionaire Tech CEOs Were Quietly Rooting for a Blue Wave This Whole Time

Miles Kahn — Thu, 05 Nov 2026 13:00:00 -0500

“America’s billionaires woke up Wednesday to a ‘political reckoning’—and a Wall Street rally.” — CNBC

- - -

Like many Americans, we were invigorated by the news that the Democrats have secured an historic midterm victory. We believe this blue wave signals a mandate to restore America’s decency, a core tenet of our democracy that Trump and his party have ignored for far too long. And despite the $2.7B our collective group of CEOs spent this election cycle to keep Trump and his party in power, we were always secretly rooting for the Democrats to win. It’s just that for the past couple of years, our hands were tied.

It’s true that when Trump began his second term, each of us personally showered him with a $1M gift. There was also the $251.4M that we shoveled into Trump’s inauguration committee. Another $50M was donated to Trump’s future library. Oh, and we collectively funneled $333M Trump’s ballroom. It’s also true that since the inauguration, the collective wealth of our small cadre of billionaires surged by over $1.5T.

But don’t mistake these transactions for any kind of quid pro quo. We took no pleasure in standing idly by while Trump unleashed his unprecedented attack on American decency, including the time he pardoned every violent January 6th rioter (a group he later tried to compensate with $1.7B of taxpayer money), or the time he tarred the entire Somali American community as “garbage,” and that one time he destroyed USAID, killing 700,000 and counting, or when he sided with alleged rapists in early October 2026, or when he engraved juvenile insults and personal grievances onto the portraits of former presidents hanging in the White House, or when he empowered a vaccine conspiracy theorist to lead the nation to its biggest measles outbreak in three decades, or when he funneled billions of dollars away from food pantries and rural hospitals to erect an immigration detention gulag, or when he sided with a convicted rapist in late October 2026, or when he banned the press from the White House because he didn’t like their coverage, or when he slashed SNAP benefits, cutting food assistance to four million people including one million children and 1.2 million veterans, or when he struck a deal with Russia to lift their sanctions which would help fund Russia’s illegal war in Ukraine, or when he… You know what? You get it. And silently, we were a little miffed.

But our silence on Trump’s moral failures never represented our personal beliefs. We ask only that you see the issue from our side. Had we publicly spoken out about any of the atrocities, illegal activities, naked racism, xenophobia, rampant negligence, and cruelty, we never would’ve been able to afford to expand our efforts to make more money extracting the Earth’s remaining resources, to power AI to study ways to maximize the Earth’s remaining resources while living far away on Mars driving upside-down space Teslas.

Of course, some skeptics still believe our collective silence equals complicity. Nothing could be further from the truth. Take, for instance, the Ohio gubernatorial election, where Republican candidate Vivek Ramaswamy released a despicable attack ad devoid of any human decency, starring the estranged mother of his opponent, who stood by her husband, who was indicted for the rape of her daughter decades prior. It was an outrageous and shocking moment in an already dark political cycle. And yet the unimaginably wealthy group of CEO’s here—who again, contributed an historic $1.54B towards GOP ads like these—kept our mouths shut.

And for good reason. Had we spoken out against this grotesque attack on the Democrat candidate, we may have threatened the expansion of AI data centers in Ohio—an expansion Governor-elect Amy Acton opposes. Without those data centers, we may never achieve AGI, unlock the quantum math powering a self-sustaining base on Mars, or escape the hellhole that is the state of Ohio. You really have to see it from our point of view. What were we supposed to do? Not try to drain Ohio of clean water? (Amy, call us. We have some idea$$$!)

And lest you think that we were mute behind the scenes, you’d be sadly mistaken. There were dozens of times one of us sought an audience with the president to express our displeasure at a particular racial slur or a shooting of a white protester. In fact, shortly after ICE thugs tragically gunned down Renée Good, Bezos was like, “Not cool, Mr. President,” and we think he got the message. And when the president used an anti-trans slur to attack Senator-Elect Annie Andrews, Tim Cook nearly threatened to suggest taking back the twenty-four-karat gold plaque he gifted the president, as punishment. Take solace in the fact that we were always working from within to curb the president’s abhorrent indecency. In some ways, we’re just as brave as Renée Good.

We, too, dream of food that won’t cause explosive diarrhea and medicine that isn’t just sauerkraut and unpasteurized milk. But know that our silence will eventually bring relief. With the money we’ve accrued, we plan to launch rockets, fly to Mars, build cars that do flips and go woosh, and do other cool things. Also, we bet there’s a robot or something.

On June 9, 1954, at the height of the Red Scare, Joseph Welch, the attorney representing the US Army, made history when he admonished Joseph McCarthy with the immortal line, “Have you no sense of decency, sir, at long last?” On behalf of this group of selfless, pioneering CEO’s, we say to you: We stand for decency and always have. It’s time to make decency great again. And we’ll do that by donating untold trillions to the Democrats for at least the next two years—as long as they play their cards right.

Voters Rallied Against President Nyarlathotep’s Tenure of Terror. Now, It’s Time to Move On Like Nothing Happened

Andrew Paul — Thu, 05 Nov 2026 08:00:00 -0500

I’m as stunned as you all are. Nate Silver’s most recent goat entrail analysis foretold good tidings for the Democrats against Nyarlathotep’s death cultists in the midterms. As the House Minority Leader, I knew it was my job to project confidence going into Tuesday, but I admit now that I remained a tad worried about unexpected disappointments. We’re the Democratic Party, after all. If there’s one thing we’re known for, it’s our seemingly bottomless capacity to disappoint.

But wow, what a rebuke of President Nyarlathotep’s unfettered reign of grotesqueries! His teeming horde of minions—from the Duke of Hobgoblins Mike Johnson to the Lich Queen Laura Loomer—are reeling from the psychic blow of Tuesday’s election results. Democrats have established footholds in some of the most hardened of Death Cult safe havens, and the vote tallying still isn’t done.

Even the edgelord meme-magick of fleshsack hierophants like Elon Musk and Jake Paul couldn’t save Texas. Texas! Apparently an enchanted hemorrhoid like Ken Paxton was a step too far for enough of Nyarlathotep’s eroding base of cultists.

But to be frank, we have all seen Nyarlathotep’s sagging visage these last few months. It’s become increasingly clear that the Necronomicon’s hideous Outer God can only sustain Himself in corporeal form for so long. His once-ironclad (yet inexplicably moist) grasp on reality seems to have begun slipping as soon as He returned to the Oval Office two years ago. But death pangs are sometimes the most violent moments for an incomprehensible Creeping Terror like Nyarlathotep.

Sure, our cadre of spectral consultants assured us two years back then that all their scrying results indicated the Dread Lord’s return wouldn’t be too much worse than His first rancid reign. But I’ll be the first to admit that we here at the highest echelons of the Democratic Party were quickly humbled by the lengths to which Nyarlathotep has gone in His quest for retribution. Perhaps we should have taken the “Vengeance” plank in the Republican Party Convention’s 2024 platform a bit more seriously. The spectral consultants are currently preparing a report on that—it should be ready for review by the next total solar eclipse. To be fair, that’s pretty good by their standards.

So, where do we go from here? Well, we now face a once-in-a-generation opportunity to finally excise an infernal tumor we’ve left embedded in this nation’s psyche since time immemorial. We’ve seen what happens when it’s ignored… apparently, it gains sentience in the form of some horrifically too-on-the-nose nexus of American excess and depravity. Then that vessel becomes an avatar of incomprehensible malice who eventually manages to bewitch just enough weak-minded voters to elevate Him to the U.S. presidency. Then they do it for a second time, for some reason.

Anyway. We could tackle the tumor. Or—and hear me out—we could just sort of chalk the last decade up to a bad trip. You know how a lot of people “experiment” in college? Well, this nation just so happened to experiment with Nihilistic Occultism, but we eventually realized it’s just not for us. No harm, no foul.

The rats are fleeing Nyarlathotep’s sinking ship, so that should take care of itself, right? It’s not like the rodent survivors’ progeny will eventually coalesce into some unholy Rat King that inevitably revisits our national sins in some cosmic horror Groundhog Day scenario? Totally impossible, right?

At least, that’s what my spectral consultants tell me. And my donors at Palantir and Anduril.

Way to Vote Yourselves Out of Five Thousand Bucks, Chumps

Cezary Jan Strusiewicz — Wed, 04 Nov 2026 19:00:00 -0500

“Trump promised every adult $5,000 if Republicans kept control of Congress. Thanks to the Blue Tsunami, taxpayers won’t have to blow up the debt.”
— Fortune

- - -

The American people have made a catastrophic mistake that will haunt this country for generations. They have voted against the Republican Party, and in doing so, they have deprived themselves of five thousand dollars. Imagine if such a thing as a one-dollar bill existed. Not so much, right? But now imagine FIVE THOUSAND of them. That’s what you threw away. And for what?! Democracy? Clearly, none of you have read The Art of the Deal.

You could have done anything you wanted with that money. Like buy a brand-new Mercedes, a vacation in the Maldives, and a modest collection of commemorative Trump gold coins. You could have paid for college, retired early, and opened a small business with all the money left over. You could have bought a house. A beautiful house. Three bedrooms, a living room, two bathrooms (one for pooping, one for storing documents). Maybe two houses if you know a guy. I know lots of guys. Some say I know more guys than anyone in history. And let me tell you, none of them were voting Democrat, and now they and you will be living in cardboard boxes, and I’ll personally jack up the rent on those.

I know there has been some confusion about the five thousand bucks. People were asking where all that money would come from. Was it a check? A direct deposit? A beautiful golden envelope delivered by a bald eagle with your Chipotle DoorDash? Questions like these are missing the bigger, more beautiful picture. The money was absolutely coming. It was practically here in every way but the actual and physical way. We had it. We were looking at it. YOU were basically holding it. But then the Democrats won, and now the money is gone. Just like that. Vanished. Probably to Mexico.

Or it was stolen! By the economists. The economists are probably to blame. They were always on about how five thousand dollars would not actually buy a house, a car, or even a fridge that was never used to store human feet. These economists are traitors to US society. Very dangerous people. They use calculators, which are basically little communist machines. Did you know they use ARAB numbers?

But let’s assume they were right. That five thousand dollars could still have paid for one and a half months of rent for an ordinary American family, assuming they lived somewhere beneath an asbestos factory and above a coal power plant. It might have bought several tanks of gasoline, probably enough to drive your car to the nearest dealership so you could sell it and buy groceries. And while it probably wouldn’t have covered a decent medical emergency, it would last from the time you entered the hospital to when the nurse asked you, “What’s your insurance?” Plus, those hospitals are air-conditioned, you know. Was this not enough? What the hell more did you want? The entitlement is what gets me.

Of course, I don’t blame the voters entirely. They have been subjected to relentless factual propaganda and the evidence of their own eyes about the real price of things. They have become obsessed with whether they can afford to live in the country they work in. I don’t like that. Reeks of desperation. Loser mentality. And I don’t like losers. We must remember that the five thousand dollars was never just five thousand dollars. It was a symbol. A symbol of hope, opportunity, and me not going to prison one day. It was a win-win for all. Why didn’t you take that deal? What the hell is wrong with you?

So, to everyone who voted Democrat: Congratulations on technically “winning,” but we are not done yet. We will regroup. We will rebuild. We will return with an even bigger promise: TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS. Maybe FIFTEEN. Possibly TWENTY-FIVE, depending on how delusional our base will be after all the votes are tallied. But don’t focus too much on the money. Don’t ask where it will come from. Money is an illusion anyway.

As Your Late Dentist’s Sister, I Can’t Believe You Didn’t Choose Me to Take Over His Dental Practice

Jennifer Haubrich — Wed, 04 Nov 2026 14:20:00 -0500

“I’m just looking at these results as I’m talking… I see that Darline lost. Wow, that’s amazing." — Donald Trump, speaking to The New York Times about South Carolina Republican Senate candidate (and brother of late South Carolina senator Lindsay Graham) Darline Graham’s election loss.

- - -

I’m saddened and disappointed that you, the patients at South Coast Dental, have decided not to allow me to take over this dental practice as a tribute to my brother, your former dentist for the past twenty-three years.

It is true that at first, I didn’t seek this position. In July, the manager of this office park asked me to take over my brother’s dental practice. He said, “For the Good of our Office Complex and maintaining a hundred percent occupancy rate, there will be no better way to honor your late brother than by taking over his dental practice.”

Did you hear that? I was handpicked. The manager could have chosen anyone in the world, but he chose me. And you know what? Once I started here, I decided he was right. The pay is good, and the benefits are amazing. I don’t even have to be in the office very much!

No, I am not a “dentist,” but I have devoted my life to serving this community for the past thirty years, ever since I worked at my parents’ restaurant / bar / pool hall. This is where I learned to do whatever it takes to make the customers happy, like handing out free drinks and reverting to using my maiden name to remind you that I’m biologically close to the dentist you’ve been seeing for the last two decades.

Being related to a dentist and willing to do whatever it takes is probably why the office park manager—who, may I remind you, handpicked me—also said that I will “NEVER LET YOU DOWN.” When someone like him types in all caps, you know it must be true.

Too bad I won’t have the opportunity to prove it to you now.

Yes, I have fully admitted that “filling cavities” is not my thing. It’s just not something that I am informed about. While cavities are beyond my scope, I didn’t think this would bother you.

Don’t the hygienists do 95 percent of the work anyway?

My focus was more on affordability, like giving out branded dental floss and toothbrushes, and less on things like “root canals.”

Which, incidentally, is also something I am not that informed about. Why would anyone want a canal in their mouth? It sounds painful.

Perhaps many of you believed that, in taking over this dental practice, I was trying to unfairly benefit from DEI. That’s not true. My brother didn’t even support DEI initiatives. It’s a complete coincidence that I was the first unlicensed woman dental practice owner and the first one to take over a sibling’s dental practice in the history of this office complex.

Also: I’m no nepo baby. I am my brother’s sister, not his child.

(This seems a good time to point out that he was so devoted to this dental practice that he never even had time to have children, or any publicly acknowledged relationship at all. For reasons known only to him and to everyone else.)

What you should know is that complete devotion like my brother’s is the level of service that you could have expected from me too.

But now you won’t.

My brother was always there for me, and right now I wish I could be there in his place for years to come, enjoying his office, his last name, and most importantly, his paycheck. But I will not be, because apparently, you, the patients of South Coast Dental, somehow believe that a successful dental practice should have a dentist and not just a non-dentist who is related to someone who once was a dentist.

I heard the dentist you chose used to be a doctor, so yeah, good luck with that.

Why Do Bad Things Happen to Bad People?

Devorah Blachor — Wed, 04 Nov 2026 11:45:00 -0500

A decade ago, when the new world order was established, people like me—the craven, the corrupt, and the clowns—knew we would be taken care of and rewarded. But now the worst possible people are actually losing their elections, and our faith is as shaky as Ken Paxton’s ethics. Dear God, why are bad things happening to bad people?

This country is supposed to be built on specific foundational principles: that all men are created equal, especially if they are born wealthy and white. But the whole system falls apart when an ironworker can unseat a real estate nepo baby. Oh Lord, what does it say about this country when a man can’t even hold a gun to his wife’s head and still keep his congressional seat?

No one could have possibly predicted that Trump’s tariffs and his war on Iran would hit rural America so hard with rising fuel costs, shrinking profits, and bankruptcies. But surely, none of that should matter in a state where Democrats haven’t won a Senate seat since 1932. And the last time I checked, a gynecologist should be able to charge his working-class patients 18 percent interest, bankrupt them, handcuff moms in front of their toddlers, and still get reelected. Heavenly Father, how can such a thing be happening?

In the America I know and love, an anti-abortion homophobe who voted to gut health care would never lose an election to a progressive who campaigned on “money out of politics, money in your pocket, Medicare for all.” Racist smear campaigns against minorities used to count for something in this country. Sweet Jesus, when did all that change?

Lord Almighty, help me understand. Is goose stepping and reenacting Martin Luter King’s assassination and hawking Mein Kampf on your podcast wrong? Is showing anti-Semitic memes of Jewish people around a Monopoly board not okay? Are white nationalists actually a liability now? And if a man rapes his stepdaughter, is it no longer acceptable to weaponize this crime against the victim to get elected as governor of Ohio? What kind of topsy-turvy world are we living in?

It’s scant comfort that a man who voted to keep child marriage legal could still be elected in Virginia, or that a far-right repellant Islamphobe won comfortably in Florida, or even that the crypto-grifter can still use his power to make more money and pardon criminals. When the world’s richest man isn’t able to buy elections with a half a billion dollars, it shakes our entire belief system. Truly, like Job, we are being tested.

God, you are all-good, all-knowing, and all-powerful. When bad things happen to bad people, we feel confused, abandoned, and adrift. For fuck’s sake, Lord, how could you let someone like Lauren Boebert suffer this way?

Perhaps the worst part is seeing good people rewarded for good policies and for being good. Folks who say Christian nationalism is bad and that Jesus cared about other people won yesterday. Candidates who champion civil rights and focus on affordability will get to govern. Doctors and doctor moms and union leaders who want health care for all Americans prevailed. Also, Susan Collins lost.

Come January, our most sacred beliefs will be severely challenged. The first Black woman governor will be the chief executive in a former slave state. A Democrat who wants to tax billionaires will represent Iowa. Hakeem Jeffries is going to be Speaker of the House, and he’s definitely going to mention Biggie at some point on the House floor. Cry, the beloved country.

Our faith is shattered, our hearts are empty, and our spirits are broken. It’s hard to find words of comfort at such dark times. If only God had provided us with a kind of doctrine to make sense of it all, a guiding principle of some sort, perhaps even a rule that’s the same color as a Mar-a-Lago toilet, that might help us understand everything that just happened. Perhaps we should look to scripture for some answers.

Or maybe we can just say the election was stolen. What do you think, God? What would Jesus do?

The Midterms Were a Reckoning, but I Have No Doubt the Republican Party Will Emerge Stronger, More Unified, and Still Extremely Racist

Jack Loftus — Wed, 04 Nov 2026 08:00:00 -0500

The midterm elections did not go well for Republicans, but there are still plenty of reasons for optimism. I have no doubt that the devastating losses, while painful in the short term, will motivate the party to create an energized, more dynamic, and ideologically diverse coalition capable of attracting new voters, accommodating competing philosophies, and, of course, preserving all the racism.

For decades, the GOP stood for limited government, free markets, fiscal restraint, and a strong national defense. A nationwide blue wave has shattered that old consensus, creating space for a fledgling, clear-eyed next generation of conservatives who will challenge virtually every platform plank and principle, except the really obvious one.

Consider foreign policy. Traditional hawks favor American military intervention, while younger nationalists question foreign entanglements. There is absolutely no reason these competing visions cannot coexist within a political movement organized around a shared suspicion of dark-skinned foreigners.

The Make America Healthy Again movement has brought wellness enthusiasts, vaccine skeptics, and food-additive critics into the fold. These voters may disagree with traditional conservatives about the proper role of federal regulators, but there is plenty of room under the big tent for differing opinions on additives, vaccines, and how immigrants are poisoning the blood of the nation.

Ironically, such contradictions may prove to be the party’s greatest strength. Where else in American politics can you find a coalition accommodating free-market capitalists, economic populists, evangelical Christians, secular libertarians, and a broad cross section of bigots?

Even among that last constituency, differences abound. Some bigots prioritize novel, gray-area immigration enforcement; others prefer hardscrabble voting restrictions in places that overindex on Bad Bunny playlists; and still others express their views through concerns about neighborhood character, declining property values, and “that new apartment complex downtown where ‘they’ probably live.” This is the kind of productive internal debate that keeps a political movement intellectually vibrant.

The party’s prospective standard bearers, including JD Vance, Marco Rubio, and Ron DeSantis, offer competing visions of conservatism. Each has penned a distinct, personal playbook for the future of America, while at the same time recognizing the importance of maintaining strong, ironclad relationships with the party’s innumerable white-nationalist constituencies.

History offers a useful precedent. New Deal Democrats united Northern labor unions, urban immigrants, and Southern segregationists under one political roof. It was an arrangement that endured for decades, although the racism did eventually become something of a sticking point.

Today’s Republicans have an opportunity to build something similarly durable and tailor-made for the history books, without making the mistake of allowing the racism to become a sticking point.

Compromise will be essential. Populists must accept corporate tax cuts, noninterventionists the occasional war, and fiscal conservatives additional spending. Fortunately, the party’s decades-strong, deep-rooted racial grievance infrastructure should require relatively little negotiation.

This is the promise of a post-Trump coalition: not ideological uniformity, but the ability to accommodate competing priorities and settle disagreement through robust democratic debate. Tariffs can be negotiated, tax policy evolves, and positions on artificial intelligence, foreign intervention, and federal regulation will change with the times. Even the most deeply held ideological commitments must occasionally yield to political necessity.

The overt racism, however, will provide a welcome measure of continuity. In an era of extraordinary political uncertainty, there is something blessedly reassuring about that, especially for white people.

Now, if you don’t mind, your papers, please.

McSweeney’s Election Night Coverage

Ginny Hogan and Carlos Greaves — Tue, 03 Nov 2026 19:02:00 -0500

To Be Updated as Results Come In, Assuming Democracy Holds.

- - -

McSweeney’s authors Ginny Hogan and Carlos Greaves (Obey in Advance: How to Survive and Thrive Under Authoritarianism) have put on their Kornacki khakis and are providing election coverage throughout the evening. Check back here relentlessly for their important updates.

- - -

11:59 p.m. WAIT. We have one final update. In a STUNNING result, 60.03% of Floridians have voted to SAVE the state’s puppies from drowning.

Governor Ron DeSantis issued a statement, saying “Florida voters have made it clear: they do not want to round up all of the state’s puppies into burlap sacks and hold them under water until the bubbles stop. But it’s not all bad news. At least Ashley Moody won.”

11:58 p.m. That’s it for us for tonight. Thank you to everyone who tuned in!

11:57 p.m. This is a stunning reversal from their race in 2024. It seems many voters in the Land Beyond the Mist simply chose to stay in their lairs this election cycle. Only one question remains: Will Argoth the Unrelenting, in fact, relent? We’ll bring you an update if he does concede.

11:54 p.m. ASHLEY SCHAFER HAS BEATEN ARGOTH THE UNRELENTING

11:48 p.m. Obviously it would be nice if Susan Collins also loses. But at this point, who even cares?

11:42 p.m. BREAKING: The New York Times has just published an op-ed: “Why Tonight’s Results Are Actually Bad News For Democrats and Why a Return to Corporate Centrism May Be the Only Solution”

11:38 p.m. The president insists tonight’s outcome would have been different for Republicans if he had been on the ballot. He’s right. It would have been even worse.

11:29 p.m. As results from Iowa and Kansas point to Democratic flips, we turn our attention to neighboring Missouri. This is a race we haven’t talked about much tonight, but there’s a lot to unpack. Walsh is in a tight race with Zuzerath Archmage of the Accursed Order.

Not sure we’ll see full results until the morning, but numbers are looking really good in Walsh’s native St. Louis, where he leads Zuzerath by 29 points. This is a competitive district, though, and Toxcissa’s last-minute endorsement of Zuzerath may have some effect in the suburban and rural parts of the district.

None of that may end up mattering, though, if DOJ official Slag the Unjust imprisons Walsh at the president’s behest. As a reminder to readers, there is an ongoing investigation into whether Walsh’s campaign recruited Independent candidate, Zuzerath Archmage of the Cursed Order to enter the race. We’ll keep you updated as the situation develops.

11:25 p.m. Texas will have a new governor, which will have massive implications for reigning in the Beasts of the Putrid Fen. We may finally start to see an end to all the goring.

11:24 p.m. HINOJOSA WINS

11:23 p.m. BIBLICAL BLUE WAVE

11:14 p.m. Sorry, just spent the last five minutes howling with laughter imagining how Elon Musk must be feeling right now.

11:09 p.m. We are getting word that the mood in The Land That Never Ceases to Ooze is cataclysmically dour. Lots of wailing and gnashing of teeth.

11:05 p.m. Dang, wish we’d had those results a few minutes ago so we could’ve sent word with that kid. Oh well. Gulgaron will find out soon enough.

11:03 p.m. BREAKING: Raul Jimenez has won Texas District 40

10:58 p.m. We’re expecting more results from Bexar county shortly. That should tell us if Jimenez has enough support there to overcome Gulgaron’s strong numbers in The Land That Never Ceases to Ooze.

10:57 p.m. TALARICO TAKES TEXAS!!!

10:56 p.m. BREAKING: Vivek Ramaswamy is a dillhole who just lost a gubernatorial race.

10:55 p.m. He forgot to bring the statement from Gulgaron. Going back down.

10:54 p.m. THE CHILD HAS EMERGED FROM THE MINES

10:51 p.m. Latest Truth Social post from President Trump: “I wasn’t on the Ballot and if I was, we would have won IN A LANDSLIDE! Thank you for your attention to this matter." Ugh, he’s definitely going to run for a third term isn’t he?

10:48 p.m. Starting to sober up a tiny bit.

10:45 p.m. We wish we were able to call the Ohio gubernatorial race. But we can confirm that, regardless of what happens tonight, Vivek Ramaswamy is, and always will be, a world-class dillhole.

10:39 p.m. Before you even ask, no, I do not LIVE with my parents, I am VISITING my parents. But yes, I am slightly drunk while typing on the couch in my parent’s basement and I have ZERO regrets.

10:36 p.m. Alas, another speech-to-text mishap. As we said before, this is a first for us.

10:34 p.m. Mom, are there any more nachos? Can you bring me some?

10:33 p.m. As we wait for more results to come in from Texas, and Michigan, an important reminder that control of the Senate has major implications for the Supreme Court

10:27 p.m. Really regretting not drinking that Diet Coke. That would have really helped balance out the alcohol.

10:23 p.m. We have once again violated our journalistic standards on use of language, and that is a mistake. We never should have had those standards in the first place. Shit. Fuck. Cock. God that felt good.

10:21 p.m. I LOVE YOU. I fucking love all of you.

10:19 p.m. You may have noticed that tonight’s live updates are a bit more informal in both language and tone compared to our usual reporting. That is because I am extremely, extremely drunk.

10:15 p.m. Not to toot our own horn again, but I mean…we called South Carolina at least a FULL HOUR before anyone else did. SUCK ON THAT NATE SILVER. SUCK. ON. THAT.

10:12 p.m. Okay, we’re finally starting to get some numbers in from Michigan’s 16th District. In the Land Beyond the Mist, Argoth the Unrelenting leads Ashley Schafer by just 12 points. Compare that to 38 points in the 2024 election.

10:09 p.m. I hate to cause anyone alarm, but I’m starting to feel a strange sensation throughout my body. It almost feels like…how do I describe it…like…good things are possible? That life might actually get…better? That’s impossible, medically speaking, right? There must be something seriously wrong with me. Can someone call a doctor?

10:03 p.m. This is starting to look like a historically bad night for the pro-necromancy agenda.

9:58 p.m. Listen, this South Carolina thing is starting to look real. I mean I know we reported it over an hour ago. But seriously. I think we got it.

9:56 p.m. BREAKING: Elections are much funner when we’re not losing.

9:54 p.m. While we wait on further results, we can report this: in exactly 126 minutes, the 2028 presidential primary is expected to begin.

9:52 p.m. Democrats are now projected to take the House, which obviously comes as a blow to any man whose name is currently covered by a black bar in the Epstein files.

9:51 p.m. So, on a personal level, I skipped the Diet Coke but I’m starting to regret it. Suffice it to say: I don’t think I’ll be making it to Alaska.

9:49 p.m. Has anybody checked in on Marco Rubio? Actually, don’t. I’m sure he’s fine.

9:47 p.m. As more good news pours in for Democrats, it’s worth asking: did voters not like the renovations Trump did to the White House, or did they simply not care? Or – perhaps – did they not know enough about all his architectural endeavors? Historians may look back at this election as a hinge moment, when Presidents decided that they actually needed to talk even more about demolishing the East Wing. Because if that news doesn’t reach people, it can’t become a voting issue. Which is obviously unacceptable.

9:42 p.m. The real winner of the night? Mike Johnson, who clearly never wanted that job.

9:40 p.m. We don’t yet have results on some of the biggest races of the night, but we do know this: somewhere, JD Vance is sobbing into a pillow.

9:37 p.m. At this point in the night, voters are asking: is it a wave? A tsunami? Perhaps a biblical flood? Or maybe that thing where the moon just gives up and crashes into the ocean?

9:34 p.m. BREAKING: Abolish ICE.

9:32 p.m. Early returns show that coastal liberal elites were right, again.

9:30 p.m. Chris Pappas has made history as the first openly gay man elected to the Senate, strong emphasis on the “openly.”

9:28 p.m. Fun-fact: the technical term for the amount of money Elon Musk wasted on these elections is “stupid.”

9:19 p.m. BREAKING: Somebody is definitely getting fired tomorrow. Hopefully Pete Hegseth. Realistically Susie Wiles.

9:17 p.m. BREAKING: Can u guys count faster pls?

9:15 p.m. So far, tonight’s takeaway is clear: don’t be a Republican.

9:10 p.m. Your party’s in rough shape when the only person who seems to have done anything good is Ron DeSantis.

9:08 p.m. Keisha Lance Bottoms has won the Georgia gubernatorial election & made history as the country’s first Black woman governor! Sorry for the exclamation mark. That was too earnest. Keisha Lance Bottoms has won the Georgia gubernatorial election & made history as the country’s first Black woman governor. Cool.

9:07 p.m. Democrats David Jolly and Angie Nixon got incredibly close to winning in Florida, which is surprising, because of the whole gator jerking thing. Good for them!

9:06 p.m. As Maine results begin to come in, Susan Collins leaves us once again asking: is “over-performing polls” a feature of a person’s personality? And does Susan Collins have a personality?

9:05 p.m. We want to issue yet another apology for the cursing, especially since Democrats are winning and therefore finance guys can no longer say the r-word.

9:03 p.m. BREAKING: Ken Paxton has left the state of Texas, probably.

9:02 p.m. BREAKING: Woke is back, and it’s once again humiliating to be straight.

8:59 p.m. Due to the use of a speech-to-text system, several foul words were entered into the blog feed. That never should have happened. That is 100% ON US.

8:58 p.m. Oh shit, I cursed again. Goddammit!

8:57 p.m. More polls are starting to close. Fucking finally.

8:55 p.m. We apologize that we have yet to bring you any updates on Gulgaron the Demented. We believe he is holding his campaign watch party 2,200 feet underground deep within the labyrinthine recesses of the salt mines of Morgath. We therefore have no way to reach him or any member of his staff.

We are being told that a child messenger has been dispatched to deliver a statement from Gulgaron, but the treacherous journey up and out of the central shaft of the mine could take an hour or more. We will let you know once the child emerges.

8:46 p.m. Roy Cooper is projected to win his senate race in North Carolina, the first FLIP for Democrats. Cooper will be the first Democrat to win a senate race in North Carolina since 2008.

At that time, dissatisfaction with the economy and frustration over a seemingly endless war led to a massive blue wave. No idea what’s going on this time around.

8:41 p.m. It’s 8:41 p.m. on election night and Michael Walsh has yet to comment on the Mbarara massacre of 1971. His silence is DEAFENING.

8:38 p.m. CORRECTION: In that previous update, we called Florida the Gator Jerky State. That was a misprint. Florida is the Gator Jerking State. But don’t worry, it’s not what it sounds like. Gator jerking is when you bring an alligator to orgasm using your hands, a common pastime in the state.

8:36 p.m. CORRECTION: In an earlier story, we had reported that Florida Question 1: Should we drown all the puppies? needed greater than 50% of the vote in order to pass.

Our listeners in Florida informed us that ballot measures in the Gator Jerky State require 60% in order to pass.

They also pointed out that, the way the question is worded, it will require a 60% ‘NO’ vote in order to PREVENT the puppies from being drowned.

Early numbers are not looking good…

8:28 p.m. It is with heavy hearts that we report that Vivek Ramaswamy continues to receive votes.

8:25 p.m. Question 1, which would guarantee right to an abortion, is expected to pass in Virginia. This is a major blow to Republicans who had campaigned hard on the pro-life slogan BREED ’EM AND WEEP.

8:20 p.m. I apologize for the longer than usual gap between updates just now. I reeeeeeeaaallly had to pee.

8:18 p.m. Josh Shapiro is projected to win in Pennsylvania. He has reportedly left his campaign watch party because he has to be up early tomorrow morning to kick off his 2028 presidential campaign.

8:11 p.m. A previous blog update violated our reporting standards due to its use of foul language. We will leave the offending post up because we believe it is important to own up to our mistakes. We apologize to any who were upset by the colorful language and assure you that it will not happen again.

8:09 p.m. MAJOR SURPRISE: My pad see ew came with beef AND shrimp even though I ordered it with just beef. Fuck yeah!

8:08 p.m. Polls closed at 8:00 p.m. in 16 states and D.C., so we’re about to get a fresh batch of results. Unlikely we’ll see any major surprises.

8:03 p.m. At a watch party in The Land Beyond the Mist, Argoth the Unrelenting told supporters “If we don’t win tonight, mark my words, the streets will run red with the blood of the innocent.” A surprisingly measured response from the ordinarily fiery congressman.

8:01 p.m. This hour of coverage is brought to you by the brand-new Keeping America MAGA crypto coin, or $KAM. It’s the only crypto coin that is guaranteed to make you rich beyond your wildest dreams.

With $KAM, you can feel confident investing all of your retirement savings and children’s college funds knowing it will increase in value, guaranteed. That’s because it’s the only crypto coin personally backed by Donald Trump’s word.

We would never wait until the price of $KAM goes up, then pull all of the money out, leaving ordinary investors penniless. Does that really sound like something the president would do?

Invest today with code GRIFT (the code was supposed to be GIFT but our intern typed an extra R by accident) and get 47 coins (retail value $2.06) FREE.

7:59 p.m. Polls have closed in Ohio, and Vivek Ramaswamy is still a loser.

7:58 p.m. We’re calling it here now: Dr. Annie Andrews wins South Carolina. No, this isn’t official. Nor have all the votes been counted. But if Andrews does win, just remember: McSweeney’s reported it first. And Darline Graham doesn’t know where Taiwan is.

7:57 p.m. Things are a bit slow right now…. what’s Haley Stevens up to? We could use some _~~drama~~

7:55 p.m. As we continue to await results from most of the key states, let’s discuss what color blue this wave may turn out to be. Cerulean? Sky? Cornflower? Navy? Cobalt. Weigh in in the comments.

7:53 p.m. My food arrived!

7:52 p.m. So far, the Blue Tsunami is still allegedly on the way, but has yet to fully materialize. Kinda like the Thai food I ordered an hour ago.

7:50 p.m. As of the latest ballot dump, Angie Nixon is leading Ashley Moody both in the Florida Senate results & just generally overall.

7:47 p.m. I spoke with voters earlier today. Not about the election, but my MetroCard wasn’t working & I needed someone to open the gate for me. The nice lady was wearing an “I voted” sticker.

7:45 p.m. I am personally considering cracking open another Diet Coke, if anyone even cares.

7:42 p.m. I’ve seen enough. Stephen Miller belongs in jail.

7:40 p.m. Hearing troubling reports that Vivek Ramaswamy has also received votes… even one is too many. Concerning.

7:38 p.m. Update: We’ve confirmed at least one listener heard the Ossoff news on McSweeney’s first. So, the real winner of the Georgia Senate race: us.

7:35 p.m. Decision Desk HQ is predicting that Jon Ossoff will win re-election. And to that we say: BOOOORING! Do a competitive one next.

7:31 p.m. Elon Musk has spent nearly half a billion dollars on these midterms, but unfortunately, we are able to confirm that even after all that, he is still rich.

7:29 p.m. The question on all voters’ minds: who will win the 2026 midterms, and also, what happens when you die?

7:26 p.m. To answer a common listener question – unfortunately, no, voters do not have the option of getting rid of JD Vance tonight. But we do have the opportunity to make him feel really bad, so that’s not nothing.

7:20 p.m. As results come in, consider that Trump’s approval rating is hovering around 36%, which is low for a President, but pretty high for a Trump.

7:18 p.m. One state I’m watching closely tonight is my personal mental one.

7:15 p.m. If you’re in line at Walgreens for your Klonopin refill, STAY IN LINE.

7:12 p.m. As experts, we warn against reading too far into the data this early in the night. To distract yourself instead, consider drinking directly from the reflecting pool.

7:10 p.m. Turnout has hit record highs for midterms. Why? Did something happen?

7:08 p.m. One state we’re not expecting results from tonight is Alaska, where honestly, the votes would come in faster if they were delivered by moose.

7:06 p.m. Hearing alarming reports that Ken Paxton has received votes…

7:05 p.m. Tonight’s midterms coverage is brought to you by BANSHI. Unlike other prediction markets, BANSHI has none of the boring stuff, like sports and entertainment. The only bets you’ll see on BANSHI are for fun stuff, like war, ethnic cleansing, and politics.

For those struggling with gambling addiction, please call our toll-free hotline, and we will set you up with your first five wagers, along with a one-month membership to our VIP tier, BANSHI+, all absolutely free!

7:04 p.m. Florida is one of the states we expect to get numbers from first and will be one of the earliest indications of how the rest of the night is going to go.

As you all know, Florida recently outlawed Arabic numerals with Governor Ron DeSantis calling it “Sharia Math.”

Arabic numerals will be replaced with Roman numerals in honor of our “Proud Western Heritage.” Speed Limit signs across the state will now read: LXV MPH. This has led to some confusion on roads where the speed limit is 30 miles per hour.

7:03 p.m. What a year for Ted Cruz to not be on the ballot.

7:01 p.m. I’m ready to call it. Blue Tsunami.

7:00 p.m. As polls close on the East Coast, we’ll be updating you as numbers start to trickle in. We’re cautiously optimistic about tonight’s outcome. Then again, never underestimate the American electorate’s ability to disappoint. Or Nate Silver’s ability to get it “slightly less wrong” than every other pollster.

First, some quick background on us:

We’re Ginny Hogan and Carlos Greaves; we’re comedy writers who have contributed to McSweeney’s, The New Yorker, The Borowitz Report, and more. We also recently published a book, Obey In Advance: How to Survive (and Thrive) Under Authoritarianism—available for 25 percent off at McSweeney’s store site tonight!

As two people who are both incredibly anxious about the [gestures broadly] state of the world, writing helps us make sense of the world. We hope you find our writing as cathartic to read as it is to write!

Here’s what to expect tonight:

We’ll post updates every few minutes with the latest results for real candidates (Argoth, Gulgaton, Zuzerath), as well as a few “fake” candidates we made up (Vivek Ramaswamy, Ken Paxton, Dans Sullivan, etc.). It’s a big night, since it’s when we’ll finally find out if Trump’s closing message of “Ashley Hinson didn’t use GLP-1s” and “trans” has landed. A reminder that a lot is at stake tonight besides control of the House and Senate, including future Supreme Court picks and funding for ICE.

It’s not going to be a constant feed, so it’s probably the sort of thing that’s best...

The Two Political Parties Are Exactly the Same

Ginny Hogan — Tue, 03 Nov 2026 08:30:00 -0500

PROGRAMMING NOTE: Join McSweeney’s authors (Obey in Advance) Ginny Hogan and Carlos Greaves tonight here at McSweeney’s Internet Tendency at 7 p.m. EST for live updates of election results.

- - -

The two parties are exactly the same. Sure, one wants to fund social programs, and the other wants to fund tax breaks for billionaires. But they both want to fund stuff. The mono-party DC consensus must end.

The two parties are exactly the same. Sure, one shut down the government to save health-care subsidies, and one tore down the East Wing to build a ballroom. But both have shown clear destructive tendencies.

The two parties are exactly the same. Sure, one wants green energy, and the other wants Greenland. But they’re both into green stuff, and I find that sus. Why green? Why not yellow???

The two parties are exactly the same. One follows the rules, and the other follows their rules. But that’s a two-letter difference, max.

The two parties are exactly the same. Sure, one defends the post-WWII global order, and one defends the most corrupt president in US history. But they’re both just full of toadies defending shit that isn’t Anne Hathaway. I’m a big believer that the only person we should defend is Anne Hathaway. Back off, Hatha-haters.

The two parties are exactly the same. Sure, one sends me fourteen fundraising texts a day, and the other texted war plans to a journalist on Signal. But they both need to put the phone down and touch grass.

The two parties are exactly the same. Sure, one sends masked agents to grab people off the street, and one suggested I wear a mask at Trader Joe’s in 2020. But they’re both obsessed with masks. Show your faces, cowards.

The two parties are exactly the same. Sure, one sent the National Guard into American cities, and one sent a strongly worded letter to the president. But they’re both always sending stuff. Get a hobby. Get an owl to do that for you.

The two parties are exactly the same. Sure, one believes vaccines prevent measles, and the other believes measles builds character. But they’re both bringing measles back into the discourse. Ew. Who wants to talk about measles? Grow up.

The two parties are exactly the same. Sure, one had a president who pardoned his son, and one had a president who pardoned 1,500 insurrectionists. But ultimately, they both believe in second chances. Which I don’t. Hence, I continue to hold Democrats responsible for their pre–Civil War views on slavery.

The two parties are exactly the same. Sure, one responded to authoritarianism by holding up little paddles, and one responded to authoritarianism by doing authoritarianism. But ultimately, both were hard to watch.

The two parties are exactly the same. Sure, one deployed troops to Chicago, and the other held a convention there. But both made it impossible to get an Uber… in Chicago.

The two parties are exactly the same. One did the Iraq War, and the other did the Iran War. Wait, no, those were the same party. Whatever, the point still stands.

The two parties are exactly the same. Sure, one has John Fetterman, and so does the other. See what I mean? The same. They’re the same. They’re that Office meme of Pam saying, “They’re the same picture.” They’re identical. The same. The same. The same.

The two parties are exactly the same. Both have, at one point, lost an election to the other. Embarrassing.

The two parties are exactly the same. Sure, one is blue, and one is red. But those are both colors. Wake up, sheeple. They’re the same.

The two parties are exactly the same. Both end in “s.” You know what else ends in “s”? “Lies.” And “snakes.” And “Mets.” In the words of Avril Lavigne: “Could I make it any more obvious?”

The two parties are exactly the same. Don’t you think it’s weird that we’ve never seen them in the same room at the same time? Except Congress. And the debates. And the inauguration. But other than that, never. EVER. Need I say more?

The two parties are exactly the same. And until one of them nominates Anne Hathaway, I’m out.

- - -

Looking for more political satire? Check out Ginny Hogan and Carlos Greaves’s new book, Obey in Advance: How to Survive and Thrive Under Authoritarianism, available now in our store and wherever books are sold.

- - -

Praise for Obey in Advance:

“This book is the catharsis we all need. It’s not easy to make this current political moment funny, but Greaves and Hogan pull it off again and again. I laughed my ass off (which explains where it went).”
—Nikki Glasser

“This is the only self-help guide to living under a dictatorship that you will ever need, and by far the funniest. Read it before it’s banned.”
—Andy Borowitz, The Borowitz Report

“Democracy is priceless, but fascism sure seems to pay well. If you’re morally bankrupt and looking to sell your soul, Obey in Advance has everything you need for a profitable life of lickspittlery.”
—Kevin Kruse, Professor of History, Princeton University

Obey in Advance is out now and available for purchase at our store and wherever else you buy books.

Argoth the Unrelenting’s Unsurprising Victory, and other Election Night Results

Ginny Hogan and Carlos Greaves — Mon, 02 Nov 2026 13:00:00 -0500

The following is an excerpt from our new book, Obey In Advance: How to Survive and Thrive Under Authoritarianism by longtime McSweeney’s writer Ginny Hogan and McSweeney’s resident satirist Carlos Greaves. From how to stick your head in the sand to avoid thinking about your dictator, to the most effective ways to reeducate the masses, this hilarious (and oddly reassuring?) guide has you covered—whether you want to Make Authoritarianism Great Again or not.

Ginny and Carlos will also take over our site tomorrow night, starting at 7.p.m. EST to cover the results of the midterms.

- - -

In Missouri’s 10th district, with 98 percent of precincts reporting, it looks like 32-year-old Democrat Michael Walsh has lost to Zuzerath, Archmage of the Accursed Order. Walsh ran a strong campaign that leaned heavily on grassroots organizing and social media, but it’s possible voters simply didn’t think he had enough experience compared to Zuzerath’s 752 years serving as Grand Sorcerer of the Netherrealms.

In Michigan’s 16th district, Ashley Schafer has just conceded the race to Argoth the Unrelenting. This is a disappointing loss for Democrats in this D+2 district, and you have to wonder if Schafer ran too far to the left in a purple part of the state. Schafer made Medicaid expansion a key part of her campaign, while Argoth favored culling the sickly and frail, a move budget-conscious, middle-class voters may have seen as more moderate and cost-effective.

Turning now to Texas district 40, where incumbent Democrat Raul Jimenez has upset Republican challenger Gulgaron the Demented. Republicans had tried to unseat Jimenez by redrawing his district into majority-Latino South Texas. While it’s too early to speculate, Latino voters in the R+4 district seem wary of Gulgaron’s proposal to unleash the Beasts of the Putrid Fen—the vicious night-creatures that destroy all in their wake—to secure the border.

Gulgaron has yet to concede amid unsubstantiated claims of widespread voter fraud and has called on Texas Governor Greg Abbott to confine Jimenez in the Panopticon of Misery, a for-profit prison in east Texas run by Gulgaron. If the recount results stand, it will reduce Texas’ Republican congressional majority from 37 out of 40 to just 36 out of 40.

Meanwhile, in California’s 54th district, longtime incumbent Sandra Coleman has lost to Republican Rarmar Glax, Admiral of the Forgotten Fleet—an unexpected pickup for the GOP in what is usually a solidly blue district. Democratic insiders had been pressuring the 98-year-old Coleman to step down amid her steady cognitive decline, while Republicans in the district were energized by Admiral Glax’s fiery, tough-on-crime calls to carpet-bomb San Francisco.

Finally, in the tightest midterm race, Marcela Diaz appears to have edged out Hargatha the Wastelayer, Nightwitch of the Fetid Mire and keeper of the Talismans of Anguish. Although overseas and military ballots have yet to be tallied, Diaz is expected to hold on to her razor-thin lead of 50.02 percent over Hargatha’s 49.98 percent. Both political newcomers, Diaz and Hargatha fought hard to make their case to Broward County voters in one of the few toss-up districts in the state, with Diaz campaigning on paid maternity leave and universal pre-K, and Hargatha campaigning on using her dark powers to sink the ethnically diverse parts of Miami into the sea.

- - -

Praise for Obey in Advance:

“This is the only self-help guide to living under a dictatorship that you will ever need, and by far the funniest. Read it before it’s banned.”
—Andy Borowitz, The Borowitz Report

Obey in Advance is out now and available for purchase at our store and wherever else you buy books.

Excerpts from Frog and Toad Make History

Jennie Egerdie — Mon, 02 Nov 2026 09:00:00 -0500

With tender-hearted humor, author (and frequent McSweeney’s contributor) Jennie Egerdie transports us away from the chaotic present day with her latest parody, Frog and Toad Make History. Egerdie channels the charms of Arnold Lobel’s iconic duo as she imagines how they’d react to moments throughout history, from cave amphibians through ancient Greece, the Middle Ages, the Industrial Revolution, and more. We’re thrilled to share an excerpt from this hilarious book.

- - -

The (Very) Dark Ages
1007 CE

Frog and Toad were sitting in the dark.

“Frog,” said Toad. “Why is it so dark?”

“Because it is the Dark Ages,” said Frog.

“Drat,” said Toad.

Frog and Toad tried to stare at each other, but it was too dark to see.

“Frog,” asked Toad. “Why do we have to go through these Dark Ages?”

“I do not know,” said Frog.

Frog and Toad sat a little closer together.

There was a lot about the world they did not understand.

They were scared.

“Frog,” said Toad. “How long will the Dark Ages last?”

“I suppose it will end…” said Frog. “When someone turns on a light?”

“That makes sense,” nodded Toad.

Frog and Toad smiled.

They couldn’t see each other’s smile, but even still.

It was a warm, good feeling.

- - -

The Fur Trade
1703 CE

Way up north, in Montreal, Frog and Toad were confused.

“I still don’t understand,” said Frog. “Do you want a beaver or not?”

The Hudson’s Bay Company merchant slapped his forehead.

“Oui, we trade in beaver! La fourrure de castor,” said the frustrated French merchant. “But monsieurs, la fourrure est généralement removed from le beaver.”

“Fourrure… the fur?” repeated Frog.

“Oui, la fourrure,” nodded the merchant.

“And it’s removed… how?” asked Toad.

The agent made a slicing motion.

Frog and Toad were horrified.

“But you can’t! That’s Carl’s coat!” protested Frog.

“You can’t take Carl’s coat!” spluttered Toad.

“Yeah!” said Carl the Beaver. Carl was their friend and a member of the Haudenosaunee Confederacy. He journeyed with Frog and Toad to Montreal under the impression that he was going to visit Europe, a place where beavers were very popular.

A cold wave of reality splashed on Frog, Toad, and Carl at the same moment.

Beavers were not popular GUESTS in Europe. They were…

“Monsieur, please accept my sincere apologies,” offered the embarrassed agent. “We do not usually speak with les castors directly—” “I should say not!” said Carl, incensed.

“This is a TERRIBLE store!” yelled Toad.

Frog and Toad hustled Carl out of the shop.

“We are so sorry,” said Frog.

“So, so sorry,” said Toad.

Frog and Toad gave Carl a warm hug.

They took Carl to a café and bought him a mug of hot apple cider and a comforting maple syrup biscuit.

After a while, Carl felt a little calmer.

“I just can’t believe it,” said Carl, shaking his head.

“I know how you feel,” said Frog sympathetically. “You’ll never guess what they wanted to do with my legs in France . . .”

- - -

The Second Industrial Revolution
1913 CE

Frog drove up the path to Toad’s house.

He honked his horn.

There was no answer.

“Toad, Toad,” shouted Frog. “It is the Industrial Revolution!”

“We already had that,” said a voice from inside the house.

“The Second Industrial Revolution,” cried Frog. “It is so much better than the first!”

“I am not here,” said the voice.

Frog walked into the house.

It was dark. All the shutters were closed.

“Toad, where are you?” called Frog.

“Go away,” said a muffled voice from a corner of the room.

Frog turned on the lights.

“Help!” said Toad. “It’s too bright in here!”

“Don’t be silly,” said Frog. “I had the house wired for electricity, Toad! No more gas or oil or candles to fuss with, just clean, easy electricity brightening up the nights!”

“You brighten up the night by yourself, Frog,” said Toad. “I will be too tired. I am going back to bed.”

Toad got into the bed and pulled the covers over his head.

“But, Toad,” cried Frog, “I have more to show you!”

“More?” cried Toad from under the covers. “I just got used to the typewriter, the phonograph, AND indoor plumbing. Now I’m supposed to learn more?”

“Yes,” said Frog.

“No,” said Toad. “It is too much. Wake me up when it is all over.”

Frog shook his head.

“But it will not ever be over, Toad,” said Frog. “If you do not change with the times, you will be left behind.”

“Good,” mumbled Toad. “That is what I am hoping for.”

Frog sighed.

But then, Frog had an idea.

He went outside.

He walked down the road to the old town hall.

He picked up the receiver at the telephone pay station that had been installed the week before.

“Yes?” said the operator.

“Hello,” said Frog. “Would you please place a call to my friend Toad? Telephone number 6?”

“I’ll connect you. One moment, please,” said the operator.

As Frog waited for Toad to answer, he could hear Toad yelling from down the street.

“WHAT IS THAT?” screamed Toad. “WHAT IS THAT??? RINGING?”

After a few minutes, Frog heard a click on the other end of the line.

“Ahoy-hoy?” said Toad, carefully.

“Hello, Toad, it is me, Frog,” said Frog cheerfully. “I had a telephone installed along with the electricity!”

Toad hung up the phone.

- - -

A Sparkling Wit
1927 CE

Downstairs at the Algonquin Hotel in New York City, conversation flowed. A group of stylish animals sat crowded around a round table, trading witticisms.

Some of the animals were well-known writers, some were movie stars, but all had a glittering, madcap air. The scene was thick with smoke and laughter.

“I’ve pegged out!” gloated Alexander Woollcott the Sheep in celebration, knocking the cribbage board, around which he and his friends sat.
A round pink pig named Benchley tossed twenty dollars at the gleeful winner.

Alice Miller, a canary draped in diamonds, threw her cards on the table. “You, sir,” she said, dripping with disdain, “are the lowest form of life. A cribbage pimp.”

“I’ll say,” said Dorothy Parker, a mockingbird with the sharpest beak you’d ever seen. She was swirling a generous drink. “If you want to know what God thinks of money, just look at the people he gave it to.”

“And how!” chuckled Toad enthusiastically from across the room.

Toad had been staring at the group for almost thirty minutes, waiting for the right moment to jump in.

“Why,” cried Toad, gesturing at Woollcott with a martini. “That sheep is nothing more than a clown Dutchman with the mind of a blue-footed booby!”

“Excuse me?” belched Benchley the Pig.

“Excuse yourself, you old rutabaga!” guffawed Toad. “Why, his brain’s more fizz than fuzz!”

The group stared.

“… Is he batty?” frowned Alexander Woollcott.

“No, I’m Toad-y! Applesauce! Toboggans!” tittered Toad. “You, sir, are persnickety. Whereas, I’m positively per-snack-ity!”

Toad laughed uproariously at his bon mot. He saluted the stunned table with a flourish, then spun around to face Frog.

“Are they looking?” Toad breathed. His face was covered in sweat.

“Uh-huh,” said Frog.

“Did I sound smart? Funny? Do you think they’re impressed?” whispered Toad.

“I… don’t think so?” said Frog. “But you sounded very confident.”

“Thank you,” beamed Toad.

“What on earth did it mean?” asked Frog.

Toad winked.

He took a long, self-assured sip of his martini.

“I have no idea,” said Toad.

- - -

Illustrations by Ellie Hajdu.

- - -

Jennie Egerdie’s Frog and Toad Make History, is available wherever books are sold.

- - -

Excerpted from FROG AND TOAD MAKE HISTORY [A PARODY] by Jennie Egerdie, Illustrated by Ellie Hajdu. Reprinted with permission from Running Press, an imprint of Hachette Book Group, Inc. Copyright 2026 by Jennie Egerdie.

Things to Do While Waiting for Midterm Election Results

Wendi Aarons — Mon, 02 Nov 2026 08:00:00 -0500

Take your dog to the park

Bake a loaf of pumpkin bread

~~Put on Meta glasses and wander around sorority row~~

Pay a friendly visit to a neighbor

Go on a nature hike

~~Help your kid finish their application to Cornell University~~

Read a book from the library

Donate to a food pantry

~~Put a bottle of champagne in the fridge~~

Text a friend across the country to check in

Finally finish that craft project you started during the pandemic

~~Tell your cousin you’ll still be friends even though she voted Republican~~

~~Visit the reflecting pool in DC and ponder the state of democracy~~

Casually research becoming a citizen of a country with free health care

Play a few pickleball matches

Reply Stop2End to the latest political text asking for $5

~~Carve ELON SUX on the hood of a Cybertruck using garden tools~~

~~Call Texas Senate candidate Ken Paxton’s office and leave a message that includes ten “motherfuckers” and five “shitheads”~~

~~Build a Trump effigy out of Crisco, paprika, and shit from the garbage disposal then light it on fire and throw it at a Hobby Lobby~~

Try a new kind of cheese

Turn on the TV but only to watch The Office

Put your phone on airplane mode

~~Throw an election night party because they’ve been so much fun in the past~~

Get under the covers and tell yourself it’ll all be okay

Get under the covers and tell the world it’ll all be okay.

It’ll all be okay, right?

Put a bottle of champagne in the fridge

We Will Not Be Allowing Phones at This Year’s Wicker Man Ritual

Billy Patterson — Fri, 30 Oct 2026 10:00:00 -0700

Attention, all village residents and visitors to the Wicker Man festivities this upcoming weekend: We will enforce a strict “no phones” policy at this year’s ceremony.

While we understand this may inconvenience some of you, please know this decision was made with the best interests of attendees, staff, and human sacrifices in mind. We hope that by banning cell phone use during the ritual, we can encourage people to live in the moment and engage authentically with their surroundings as they experience the burning of this year’s pagan blood offerings.

In recent years, there was much debate among the village elders over this issue, as cell phones began to play more and more of a part in the ceremony. At first, we were pleased that festival-goers wanted to record the ritual burnings to share with their followers. Our marketing team even leaned into this, building a selfie wall and creating custom hashtags (#wickermanfest, #humansacrificefriday, #blood4thegods, etc.) to encourage social media chatter.

But as the festival became more and more social media friendly, we feel that it began to lose part of what made it special. The Wicker Man Ritual was never about Instagram stories or online engagement; it was about people coming together as one for the shared human experience of watching their neighbors get burned to death in a wicker cage to appease the cruel and bloodthirsty gods that govern our world.

The intrusion of smartphones only served to compromise this experience. It’s hard to immerse yourself in the spectacle of the sacrifice when there’s someone in the front row recording it on an iPad. And the growing number of influencers has brought in people more interested in content creation than in respecting the traditions and customs of this ancient homicidal ritual. Last year, there were several incidents of influencers talking during the chief elder’s opening incantation, and of LED ring lights in the crowd distracting the sacrificial heifer during the bloodletting prosperity covenant.

So this year, attendees will be required to place all phones, handheld gaming devices, and smartwatches into a goat skull that will be held for them at the festival entrance. (Note: you will be given a ticket stub that corresponds with the number on your goat skull—DO NOT lose your ticket stub or you will not get your goat skull back.) Please treat our cell phone handlers with courtesy and respect. Many of them are members of our pagan youth group, and we don’t want their first time at a human sacrifice to be an unpleasant one.

Anyone caught using a cell phone within the festival grounds will be ejected immediately and will be barred from attending any future events on the village commons, including winter solstice orgies, virgin stonings, and chili cook-offs.

We hope you will join us with enthusiasm in this phone-free initiative. We understand that many of you may find enjoyment in sharing your experience of the Wicker Man Ritual online, but trust us, the smell of burning flesh and the screams of the victims can’t be adequately captured on a phone; they have to be seen in person.

Be honest, you’re not going to want to sit down to rewatch a forty-five-minute vertical video of any event you attended, no matter how many people were killed.

So, prepare to pack those phones away and have a great time. We’re confident that once your phone is out of sight and you’re living in the moment, making direct eye contact with a man as flames devour him, you’ll see we made the right call.

Reasons Why I Still Need You, a Werewolf, to Come into the Office During the Full Moon

Dave Thompson — Fri, 30 Oct 2026 05:00:00 -0700

1. The Full Moon Is Not an Excuse for Absenteeism.
While HR acknowledges that you become a five-hundred-pound, flesh-hungry wolf, our company calendar was set well in advance. The full moon occurs every twenty-nine and a half days, which means you have had ample time to plan ahead. Please treat your transformation as you would a dentist appointment or your child’s school holiday.

2. We Prefer Our Employees to Suffer Together.
At this company, we believe no one should have to navigate difficult experiences alone. We care about you too much to allow you to twist and turn in pain all night by yourself when you could be doing so at your desk with the rest of the team. As your bones crack and your jaw extends through your face, please remain mindful of the noise level. Your coworkers are trying to work, and your whimpering “Why is this happening to me?” is keeping them from hearing Bob from Accounting drone on about last quarter’s numbers.

3. Your Homicidal Thoughts Can Wait Until After Hours.
If there’s a meeting during the full moon, we expect you to attend. We understand typing with your claws will be difficult for you, but someone needs to make that presentation. Growling at your boss, flipping the conference table over, or tearing everyone in the break room to shreds will not be tolerated. Accordingly, we will follow normal disciplinary guidelines, starting with a written warning. If you feel the need to maul someone, please wait until after the meeting so we can accurately record the incident as occurring outside working hours.

4. Your Coworkers Have Problems Too.
Everyone has personal challenges. Some have stomach aches. Others have the flu. Gary has a bad knee that, I might remind you, flares up on the same dates as your transformation, and not once has Gary’s knee eaten every employee around him. So, while we sympathize with your situation, we don’t think it’s fair to grant you special treatment when your coworkers have persevered through their own discomfort. Remember, pain is temporary, but your employee engagement score is permanent. Keep this in mind as you experience the sensation of your rib cage splitting open.

5. If You Finish the Quarter, We May Approve Your Leave Before You Die.
We are committed to providing reasonable accommodations where appropriate. All requests must include documentation from a licensed physician confirming that you are, in fact, a werewolf and not simply wearing a cheap costume to get out of work. A notarized Certificate of Lupine Incapacitation is also required and available for $10,400. Please allow six to eight weeks for processing. We trust you understand the need for due diligence, especially since the company cannot approve an accommodation before it has established that your condition exists.

6. We’re a Family, Not a Pack.
Think of the bigger picture. Think of your peers who depend on you to cover their shifts. Think of your shareholders, who have generously entrusted their investments to your capable (furry) hands. I know that right now, you’re busy ripping your shirt off your chest and devouring our regional manager in the parking lot, but please try to maintain control long enough to puke out those four little words we work so hard to hear: I LOVE MY JOB. Instead of viewing this transformation as debilitating, see it as a chance to show the kind of out-of-the-box thinking that has made this company a leader in its field.

Thank you for your continued commitment to excellence. We expect to see you tomorrow at 8:30 p.m., after hours, when the moon reaches peak illumination, and your transformation is projected to be at its most disruptive. Together, we can ensure that no full moons, loss of humanity, or sudden desire to bite others gets in the way of us delivering value to our shareholders. Thank you for your flexibility during this exciting time.

My Political Opponent Is Lying About Me Being the Mud Monster from Mulholland Drive

Patrick Coyne — Thu, 29 Oct 2026 10:30:00 -0700

As Election Day approaches, political mudslinging has taken an ugly, slanderous, and, in some ways, literal turn.

It seems my opponent has decided to ramp up his personal insults by claiming I am not an authentic, down-to-earth politician who only wants to improve his community. He alleges that I am the mud monster from the movie Mulholland Drive.

A truly preposterous and desperate ploy cooked up by a flailing campaign!

Initially, I chose not to get mired in the muck and instead focused on my message of affordability. But after consulting with my advisors, I have decided to address this egregious lie directly.

No, I am not the “mud monster.” That is a fictional character, also referred to as the “dumpster hobo.” Which, I guess if I had to choose between the two, I would much rather be known as the “mud monster.” But the truth is, the only thing I want to be called after the election is “Representative of the 4th congressional district.”

However, while I am obviously not the actual mud monster from the movie, I should clarify a few minor details.

It is true that I have, on occasion, caked my face in mud “Mrs. Doubtfire-style,” sprinkled peat moss in my hair, and hung out near the dumpster behind Winkie’s diner. Check my record—I have never once disputed any of this.

I’m also not ashamed to admit that, yes, I did once (accidentally) scare David Lynch so bad he collapsed in terror. But to baselessly extrapolate that I am some eldritch entity that inspired an art-house movie character is ludicrous.

Yet, my opponent refuses to put this non-issue to bed, even taking the opportunity to completely derail our most recent debate. When questioned on his voting record, my adversary insisted I hypnotized him with my “hollow, jagged eyes.” When I tried to steer the conversation back to raising the minimum wage, my opponent could only yell, “Watch as her ghastly visage glides across the stage,” “she is a mirror reflecting the darkness in the hearts of man,” and “how is this harbinger of ruin polling at 48 percent?!”

Well, excuse me for not playing the “identity politics” game and instead focusing on real life issues that affect my fellow Americans.

His latest attack ads abandoned all semblance of a functional political campaign, with TV commercials that don’t even mention who he is or why he’s running. The entire sixty-second ad is spent questioning whether I am a manifestation of his guilt or his secret desire to become a movie star.

Nothing addressing rampant inflation, by the way!

He also spent nearly $47,000 blanketing the Front Street Shopping Center with very expensive, high-gloss flyers that imply I’m some sort of gatekeeper between his fractured dreamscape and conscious reality.

Ultimately, the nature of who or what I am is for my opponent to decide. And that answer is more a reflection of his nature than mine.

But as far as the constituency is concerned, the only thing I want to be is your next representative. While I may have spent time lingering behind diners, void-walking between realities, or sharing cryptic prophecies via nightmares that envelop the human mind, on Tuesday, the only place you’ll find me is at the polls, and I hope you will all join me.

Ursine Performance

Ali Fitzgerald — Thu, 29 Oct 2026 08:54:00 -0700

Underground Artists is an ongoing comic by Ali Fitzgerald (Hungover Bear & Friends) that follows woodland creatures as they create art and search out whimsy in a bleak forest.

- - -

The Headless Horseman Doesn’t Want to Bother the ER

Nathan Cowley — Thu, 29 Oct 2026 05:00:00 -0700

Honestly, I’m fine.

It’s really not as bad as it looks. The bridge was just a lot lower than expected.

I appreciate you stopping to help, and hopefully you understand ASL, but you’re fussing over nothing. It’s just a scratch. This kind of thing happens all the time. I’m sure my head will turn up eventually.

Please, there’s no need to get the hospital involved. The doctors have enough on their plates without having to examine my neck hole. I have a couple of gauze pads in my kitchen cupboard. They should do the trick. Besides, it’s already starting to feel a lot better. I’m almost wondering whether I even need the head at all.

Plus, Tarrytown General is like half an hour away. It’s a long trip to make for the paramedics. I’m sure they’re sick of people calling ambulances for the smallest little things. They’d probably roll their eyes when they saw me. “Eurgh, not another decapitation.” I’d hate to waste anyone’s time.

It’s my fault for not taking enough vitamins. I’ve been meaning to stock up on Centrum, but just never got around to it. The medical staff shouldn’t be punished for my poor nutrition. As the old proverb says, “An apple a day keeps your head from rolling away.”

I might be paraphrasing.

And before you ask, it’s not about money. I’ve got all the necessary insurance. There are people in the waiting room with real injuries. They should get to see the doctor first—bullet wounds, broken arms, concussions. Okay, granted, I may have a concussion. I won’t know until I’m reunited with my noggin. I’d feel awful about taking up somebody’s spot, that’s all.

The truth is, if I go to the ER, they’ll see the missing head and probably want to keep me in. And then I won’t have my overnight bag or my phone charger or my CPAP. I know I don’t have a nose right now, but I’m sure Amazon sells some kind of attachment to cover my opening. And what about the new ACOTAR? I promised my book club I’d read it by next week. It’s literally the worst possible time to be losing a cranium.

Okay, I can’t see it, but I can definitely still feel that worried look on your face. So, how about we make a deal? I promise to get checked out the moment any spinal fluid starts leaking. As soon as there’s the tiniest sign of drippage, I’ll dial 911.

Scout’s honor.

Now, if you’d be so kind as to point me in the general direction of Sleepy Hollow. The no-eyes thing is kind of affecting my navigation.

We Must Protect Our Elections from Voters

Eli Grober — Wed, 28 Oct 2026 12:20:00 -0400

“Anybody reporting Voter Fraud in the past Elections, or the upcoming 2026 Midterm Election, will be paid $1,000,000 upon the arrest and conviction of those that created the Fraud! Thank you for your attention to this matter.” — President Donald Trump

- - -
There is a scourge on our democracy. A dark cloud that casts a shadow over our electoral system. It calls into question everything we stand for as a nation. For far too long, our elections have been influenced by a cabal of insurgents known as “voters.” Each year they arrive at polling places across the United States to do the unspeakable: fill in ballots. They seem to have infiltrated every facet of our representative system.

We can’t keep letting the people of this country get away with interfering in the democratic process by participating in it. We must put an end to that participation. We must take back our country from the American people. We must protect our elections from voters.

Think of it this way: Say I spend millions of dollars every year trying to get my favorite candidates in office. Anytime someone casts a vote (especially if they don’t vote for my guys), they’re making a decision without involving me and my money. That kind of independence is deeply un-American. I believe there is nothing more important than free and fair elections. Specifically, elections must be free from votes and fair to me more than anyone else.

So what to do? Well, we must start by securing the nation’s voting infrastructure against voting.

How do you secure a ballot box? Simple: you weld it shut so nobody can add their ballots. Just like that, you’ve prevented any potential conspiracy to remove you or your party from office by means of voting. Those slimy, slippery registered voters will have to think of something else to do now.

How do you secure a voting machine? You unplug it. I’m not sure where you take it to get rid of it. Is it like a battery? I don’t know where you’re supposed to throw those out either. It’s confusing. But you unplug the voting machine and, as a result, no one’s vote counts more than anyone else’s because no one’s vote counts at all. It’s the perfect solution to a populace that insists on reading the news and then voting based on what they read.

How do you secure mail-in ballots? Sure, you could burn them or confiscate them or insist that they legally can’t be counted. Or—better yet—you could destroy the means by which the ballots are mailed. We must protect our elections not just from voters but also from the post office. In fact, we must destroy the post office. We have no choice. Finally, the public’s vice grip on despicable habits like communicating and making their voices heard will be shattered. This great American experiment can continue, unimpeded by individual liberty and consent of the governed.

Of course, since we already left the door open to voter interference this year, all of this will depend on what voters end up deciding. If they correctly agree with me on everything and do what I told them to do with all the money I spent, that’s proof that voting works and our elections don’t need to be secured anymore because they’re already one hundred percent secure. But if voters swing the other direction, that will be more than enough evidence to declare the election moot due to there having been votes. We’ll have to do a recount, which itself must be protected against ballots of any kind. You see how this works, right?

So here is my charge to you: If you know anyone considering voting, remind them that voting is exactly what ruins elections for me. If they really love this country, they’ll stay out of its business. Together, we can protect this election from voters.

If the First Marathon Had Been Completed by a Running Bro

Natasha Dumas — Wed, 28 Oct 2026 05:01:00 -0700

ARISTIDES: Greetings, Pheidippides! Why are you covered in sweat?

PHEIDIPPIDES: It is because I ran all the way here from Marathon. My friend, I bring important news.

ARISTIDES: Oh, my prayers have been answered! We have all been waiting anxiously for updates. What has happened?

PHEIDIPPIDES: I have achieved a PR!

ARISTIDES: A “PR”?

PHEIDIPPIDES: Oh, I apologize. I forgot you are not a runner. Or rather, you are not yet a runner. PR stands for “Personal Record.” I ran that distance in three hours and thirty minutes. I mean, it is technically the first of its kind, so it would have been a record whatever I did, but I certainly beat my expectations.

ARISTIDES: What happened with the Persians?

PHEIDIPPIDES: Hold on one moment. Let me take some time to transcribe the details.

ARISTIDES: That is a good idea. This way we can circulate the updates through the city faster. But please hurry. Every moment matters, and I am anxious to know what happened.

PHEIDIPPIDES: Here you go.

ARISTIDES (takes the papyrus): “Start Time: 08:36. End Time: 12:09. Distance: 26.2 miles. Elevation gain: Approximately—” Sorry, what is this?

PHEIDIPPIDES: Oh, elevation is crucial, and it is so often overlooked. But when you have a hilly terrain, versus a slight decline, it is a completely different experience.

ARISTIDES: This document just transcribes the statistics of your run.

PHEIDIPPIDES: Yes. I know, it is a vice. But if I do not record it, it is as if it never happened.

ARISTIDES: But what happened with the battle at Marathon?

PHEIDIPPIDES: At Marathon? There absolutely was a battle, but it was a good distance from Marathon. The first fifteen miles, I could really feel my training working. My heart rate was barely elevated, and my muscles and joints felt fine. But around mile eighteen, lactic acid was building up, and my IC band was becoming inflamed. I was in such pain. I thought to myself: “I am in a battle with my body.” But then I realized I was not in a battle with my body; I was in a battle with my fears. My fear of suffering. My fear of giving up. My fear of failure. My fear of—

ARISTIDES: What happened with the battle with the Persians?

PHEIDIPPIDES: Oh, they were defeated.

ARISTIDES: Oh, praise to the gods!

PHEIDIPPIDES: Do you happen to have any ambrosia? I need to replenish my electrolytes.

ARISTIDES: Alas, no. I am sorry. But this is fantastic news. How did this happen?

PHEIDIPPIDES: One word: sandals. Far too often, people overlook the importance of footwear. But the difference between good and bad arch support is the difference between a complete marathon and a DNF.

ARISTIDES: How did we defeat the Persians?

PHEIDIPPIDES: I am sadly not sure. Before I started running, I was a nervous mess. It was hard to focus on anything else. I was able to get into the zone, but only moments before my run began. So I do not know the details.

ARISTIDES: You must address the Assembly!

PHEIDIPPIDES: I mean, I really do not wish to boast, and I do not know if I have any special insight. Honestly, I am just a regular guy who decided to give it a try, and forgot to stop running. But I suppose that if my story can inspire even a single person to take that risk, to push themselves to—

ARISTIDES: We must tell them the news of the Persians.

PHEIDIPPIDES: Do you mind if I hold onto your shoulder while I stretch? I apologize; my body is so sore.

ARISTIDES: Have the Persians fled?

PHEIDIPPIDES: Some of them have. Others are headed to Athens.

ARISTIDES: Oh, my stars! Is it a trap?

PHEIDIPPIDES: Not traps, per se. The pain is mainly in my lower body, although I do feel soreness in my obliques and my delts. This is why I am so grateful that I did cross-training.

ARISTIDES: If the Persians are headed to Athens, we must warn the council immediately. Something must be done.

PHEIDIPPIDES: I know exactly what to do.

ARISTIDES: Yes? What is it?

PHEIDIPPIDES: I shall swim out to intercept them. I have been meaning to get into triathlons anyway.

McSweeney’s

New Updates on the Arc of the Moral Universe

Author Bios for Gen X Women Whose Fiction Has Yet to Be Published

We Billionaire Tech CEOs Were Quietly Rooting for a Blue Wave This Whole Time

Voters Rallied Against President Nyarlathotep’s Tenure of Terror. Now, It’s Time to Move On Like Nothing Happened

Way to Vote Yourselves Out of Five Thousand Bucks, Chumps

As Your Late Dentist’s Sister, I Can’t Believe You Didn’t Choose Me to Take Over His Dental Practice

Why Do Bad Things Happen to Bad People?

The Midterms Were a Reckoning, but I Have No Doubt the Republican Party Will Emerge Stronger, More Unified, and Still Extremely Racist

McSweeney’s Election Night Coverage

To Be Updated as Results Come In, Assuming Democracy Holds.

The Two Political Parties Are Exactly the Same

Praise for Obey in Advance:

Argoth the Unrelenting’s Unsurprising Victory, and other Election Night Results

Praise for Obey in Advance:

Excerpts from Frog and Toad Make History

The (Very) Dark Ages 1007 CE

The Fur Trade 1703 CE

The Second Industrial Revolution 1913 CE

A Sparkling Wit 1927 CE

Things to Do While Waiting for Midterm Election Results

We Will Not Be Allowing Phones at This Year’s Wicker Man Ritual

Reasons Why I Still Need You, a Werewolf, to Come into the Office During the Full Moon

My Political Opponent Is Lying About Me Being the Mud Monster from Mulholland Drive

Ursine Performance

The Headless Horseman Doesn’t Want to Bother the ER

We Must Protect Our Elections from Voters

If the First Marathon Had Been Completed by a Running Bro

The (Very) Dark Ages
1007 CE

The Fur Trade
1703 CE

The Second Industrial Revolution
1913 CE

A Sparkling Wit
1927 CE