“Shut up and take my money”

May–June 2021 updates:

  • When not blubbering on an hermaphrodite’s shoulder, here’s how the Perfume Nationalist explains what a kind and generous guy he is online. (All copy-edited.)

    • Open invitation for anyone to simply talk to me instead of posting unwell-seeming threads of screenshots arguing with a Black Lodge version of me they’ve made up and projected the various unrelated strains and tensions of life in 2020 onto.

    • If you’re blocked and someone tells me you’re cool or want to be unblocked I’ll do it.

      Well established as a lie at this point, but let’s continue.

      But most people prefer the excitement of being blocked so they’ll have a little plotline for their group chats to discuss.

    • This is my block philosophy:

      • You favo[u]rite egregiously bad tweets about me
      • You normalize psychotic stalker behavior by encouraging people who do that
      • Antagonistic Reply Guy with annoying tone

      These are just mass blocks of spider nests. I don’t recall most blocked individuals.

    • If you have ever, and I mean ever, selected a stranger online to negatively focus on or spend a minute of your day trying to “own” or “expose” or “bullycide” instead of focus[s]ing on things and people you like, your priorities are fucked and you’re wrong about your entire life.

      (Another would-be fan: “I haven’t mentioned the Perfume Nationalist in like half a year. Why did he block me again, like, just recently? Very healthy to keep a mental Rolodex of everybody who has ever called you fat on the Internet and nurture grudges against them.”)

    • I unblock literally anyone who asks but most people prefer the giggly drama/feeling like they’re part of something important.

    • Love that people pretend it’s noble and brave to engage with random anon antagonistic reply-people instead of banishing them to the shadow realm forever because it’s really easy to read whether people are good or bad on here.

    • “These tweets are protected”: This person is a baby who’s addicted to Twitter but won’t even properly participate in it, gotcha. There’s literally no reason to post anything if you have your account locked. Get out of the kiddie pool, LURKERS.

  • Jack’s shockingly inarticulate brother (he at least recognizes same) is now making fun of the term eldergay, coined by DataLounge but known to these two only through me.

  • These fellas have been uniformly awful to me. But I still have the iMessages I had exchanged with Jack, in which I wrote “Thinking of you” when he had posted on Twitter how unwell he was feeling.

    I was going to PayPal Jack a hundred bucks (“Quoth Fry: ‘Shut up and take my money’ ”), but I knew he would just refuse my money, and that he and his brother would laugh about it on his show.

  • I spend all day telling people how Jack instigated podcasting’s parthenogenesis of culture. He brought an entire subgenre, the art podcast, into being (indeed in the shadow of Joe Frank – true no matter what the masterminds behind Ghost Jail do to me for pointing it out).

    But he and his friends are overall quite vile. One strains to separate art from artist.

Now they’re just fucking with me

“Do you want all four seasons of ‘Thirtysomething’?” “Yes”

Jack knows well I have a 330-page handwritten Thirtysomething episode guide and have told him the only episode I would ever want to appear on is that one.

Are Jack’s cussedness, grudge-cherishing, and biliousness contributing factors here?

If Camille Paglia ever writes to the Perfume Nationalist, it will have been of my doing

After a second-tier gay podcast actually received a reply E‑mail from Paglia, I assumed that, after 20-odd years of her being online, mailing the professor directly was finally tolerated. (In the olden days, one could not even fax-o-gram Camille Paglia.)

Acolyte builds entire hundred-episode podcast series around your work

I’m not that acolyte, though I have been a fan since Day 1. I am referring to Texan gay bear Jack Mason, better known as the Perfume Nationalist. For that is the title of his shockingly original podcast, which pairs transgressive or simply ill-appreciated artworks (typically movies) with the one thing middle-class ladies in offices have a “performative allergy” against, perfume.

On seemingly every episode, Jack explains how you were right about everything, and, in interviews, describes how you offer a means of interpreting culture that celebrates beauty and life. You’ll love his diatribes against the 2010s and against liberals, whom he blames for every censorious moral panic we’ve had to live through.

Of course he adores Liz Taylor and soap operas. (The Perfume Nationalist theme song is the one from Knots Landing.) By championing a Live Laugh Love™ philosophy, not only has Jack managed to Pied Piper a flock of beautiful straight guys to his art podcast (all of whom now buy and wear perfume!), he has instigated an entire subgenre of flanker art podcasts, to use a term from the fragrance biz.

There’s nobody like him. And none of it would have happened without you and your œuvre and your moxie. Indeed, his various avatars and user IDs have included your name or face…. (Do drop him a line – it would be the highlight of his day if not year!)

You quite fairly do not appear on podcasts, to the chagrin of impish Soviet-American author Michael Malice, who considers you the biggest possible get. But please allow this fan to suggest that you start listening to the Perfume Nationalist podcast, viz while driving or suchlike. A relevant recent episode unites all these masterpieces by or [e]voking Elizabeth Taylor: Passion, A Streetcar Named Desire, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, and (wait for it) Boom! and Secret Ceremony.

I will continue to cover TPN

Web sites do not discuss the Perfume Nationalist. Anyone who Googles this signature enterprise in the domain of the art podcast (indeed the progenitor of same) will find my discussion of TPN. Coverage will continue until morale improves.