More than any August in recent memory, the past few weeks have been an exhausting blur. Not so much because I’m short on topics, but because every day feels like it blends together, like heat rising from the pavement. Maybe it’s because the past few days leading up to this had temperatures rising above 95°, but it’s been hard to keep moving when your body wants to give up and your brain ceases to function beyond its necessary functions. I’m not saying it wasn’t a productive month full of highlights, just that I’m not sure what else I have that makes it stand out in the grand scheme.
To his credit, Neil Diamond was right to make “Hot August Nights” into his signature series of live albums. It is the type of weather where you want to hear some good music and just sway back and forth. I’m unsure how he personally could keep everything straight, but that’s the power of charismatic performers. Even so, the Southern California heat has not been encouraging in a way that’s made me want to go even to a park right now and see a local live band while sitting on a blanket. I’m just exhausted and need to find some way to start moving forward again.
Though, if there’s one thing that has been going fairly well, it’s walking into your backyard at 9 PM midweek and just lying there in the coolness, letting the wind return sensation to your skin. I’ve done it several times this summer, but it was especially welcome lately and brought with it a surprising amount of relaxation and clarity. I would also highly recommend finding a good record to just lie there and look at the stars (if you have them) and create the sensation of leaving your body. For me, I’ve found David Bowie’s Berlin period to be especially therapeutic. Maybe it’s because I saw a scene in Christine F. (1981) that really moved me, but I figured spacing out to “Heroes” would be a good call. It is, though I’m unsure that it tops the even more transcendent “Low,” which ranks highly on a very incomplete list of my favorite Bowie albums. Oddly enough, the other album that had the best impact on me relaxing outside? The first Suicide album… which is harder to defend, I’m sure.
I’m aware that the hot weather isn’t unique to Southern California, nor is this out of the ordinary for most summers in general. However, it has felt especially bad this year, and it’s a pain when there’s no centralized air conditioning to get you through those hours. You try to be productive, but then overexertion means you’re tired the next day and your muscles won’t cooperate. You sweat so much that you’re self-conscious of, well, everything having to do with human biology. You drink your weight in water, but is it really helping at all? Sometime last year I began to hypothesize what my favorite season is. I’ve been trying to find a good answer and, while July was phenomenal, I think August has really dampened my enthusiasm for picking summer even if the entertainment is superior to other periods.
To start shifting into the larger essay, it felt like a good idea to open with something that’s been on my mind a lot over the past few days. This week, singer Dolly Parton passed away at the age of 80. I’m not somebody who listens to most country music. I haven’t, quite sacrilegiously, ever heard her full version of “Jolene.” While she’s been in a few films I like – notably Steel Magnolias (1989) – there’s not much reason for me to write a passionate obituary about her. Many who knew her work better have done a more eloquent job at conveying her legacy.
And yet, I noticed her significance. Not in the broad sense that music soothes the savage beast. It was more that she was somebody who contradicted what the world is becoming. She strikes me as an optimist who used her powers to better the world. Not everyone will have the power she had, and yet she used it to improve various social issues. She donated books to literacy programs. She helped fund the Moderna vaccine. She did so much that I’m not even going to cover here, but it’s amazing to not go an hour online anymore without being reminded of the ways she taught people to embrace their identities and be kind to others. And not in a pretentious way. Even those with the best intentions can give off methodical airs that make it seem manufactured, but Parton’s gift was as much her music as it was allowing attention to focus on the people in need of help and not make the act all about her.
Maybe it comes from a lack of personal scrutiny that it all seems so genuine. Even so, she would be doing interviews and always sound engaged with her audience. I’m sure a lot of people were that way, but hearing these stories has caused me to recognize the value of being a kind person. There will come a day when our memory is all that’s left on this planet, and what will our legacy feature? For Parton, I think there’s insurmountable good that won’t be forgotten anytime soon.
It makes me ask what I hope to achieve in my much smaller window of influence. Not everyone can be of Parton’s stature, yet her actions are much more obtainable on a small scale. We can hold the door open, listen to friends who had a bad day, produce messaging that will better the court of public opinion. As hard as it is to believe, everyone has the gift of personal decision-making. You can wake up and be a Charlie Kirk type who promoted gun violence only to suffer at the hand of an assailant, or have more lucrative ideas on how to achieve peace and unity, to be the alternative you’re not seeing in the world. I recognize that life is more restrictive than that, but even choosing what to focus your free time on says a lot about what you want in this life.
Selfishly, this argument comes back to me. I personally accept that I have made a lot of mistakes in this life and worry that my bad days have clouded how many see me. However, I am also someone who believes in the possibility of redemption, where with enough effort, a person can change for the better. I ask myself if I’m using that tool more out of compassion or laziness sometimes, but I do what I can to recognize that the flaws in people aren’t always inherently bad. Deep down, I want to believe my writing will outlive me and be a connected gateway to the generations of writers before and after me. Not so much in the “Dickensian” or “Pynchonese” ways, but just in the sense that my work holds value when it’s brought up in literary discussion, and that I encouraged you to consider another approach to thinking. I’ll admit my reach will probably never be a fragment of Parton’s, but I want to believe when I pass that it reflects who I want to be.
It’s maybe a form of hope that I long for because the alternatives have felt comparatively dire. On the day of writing this, the president has renamed Lake Ontario to Lake America following a tariff dispute with Canada. As the counterpoint to my previous paragraphs, I think this man’s legacy is an easy example of what I don’t want to be. He seems bitter, unable to address new forms of thought or even consider that he might be wrong. Maybe it’s the distance from the epicenter, but I can notice how foolish the blitzkrieg of tagging your name on everything has become. There’s no effort or even subtlety. It’s a clear cry of desperation and loneliness that a man who has everything is never happy. He believes his latest endeavor will solve the problem when all it did was change The Great Lakes acronym from HOMES to SHAME. For what it’s worth, it’s the closest he’s come to playing what I perceive to be 3D chess in his entire political career.
Because I don’t know why anyone would want to spend their final years alive making others as miserable as possible, let alone that nobody is interfering with this cry for help. As much as I’ve tried not to sympathize with a man who has mostly hate in his heart, it does feel like the realization that his gimmicks no longer hold strong. Hearing him make offhand remarks that are blatantly false may be offensive to the ear, but they are half-hearted distractions at best, meant to create culture wars that don’t matter. If there’s any self-actualization at this point, it’s the depressing realization that his value has always been cliffhanging falsehoods. Does anyone love him for anything more genuine than power? Is he the ultimate symbol of objectification, and, even so, of something closer to depreciating currency?
I say this because it never feels like he’s doing anything supportive of a larger conversation anymore. He’s a dissociative video game character acquiring as many stats as possible while he still can, treating us all as some NPC. To think about this on levels beyond literal impact on millions of Americans is an existentialist nightmare, and yet it’s the one thing keeping me from joining in the laughter and poorly generated memes decrying the natural atrophy of an octogenarian. I hate him, but does he hate himself on a level he cannot begin to understand?
Then again, he has earned the ire of his critics several times over. One that has been on top of mind for me, largely as a WNBA fan, is the annoying rise of transphobia in women’s sports. It’s been an issue going back to when Joe Biden held office, but lately it’s felt like the vitriol has only gotten worse as two former NBA hirees have attempted to taunt The WNBA into letting them join. These individuals are biologically male and, from all available documentation, have not gone through legal procedures to transition into womanhood. It is unlikely they understand the years of effort to even do so. Their only goal is to say that women suck at sports and are using a minority of a minority (of which isn’t even currently in the league) as their whipping post. It has inspired people who don’t even like the sport and have no interest in engaging with it in a healthy manner to attend games and participate in shit that’s not that dissimilar from why I stopped giving J.K. Rowling my time of day.
It breaks my heart because this sport has been such a welcoming place for family and me over the past few years. I’ve regularly attended games where everybody brings a positive mindset, where the only hostility is in the competitive nature on the court. Even three years ago, I would tell you that a Sparks game was a safe place to watch a fun game. Now it feels like, because Sophie Cunningham said some foolish statements that have dog whistles in them, everything deserves to fall apart. Your special thing can’t be for fans only. We need to give in to drama and have these young people who barely know about the world have authoritative opinions on political issues that don’t concern them, simply for ragebait content. It’s partially why it’s been hard to enjoy Caitlin Clark’s rise to power despite agreeing that she’s talented. It’s less who she is than the people who use her as a symbol of things beyond “promising up-and-comer.” As it stands, I want to believe that Cunningham could still have a conversation with others that betters her awareness of political issues, but I worry the backlash is going to make her harmfully double down on things that might’ve been, at best, a gaffe brought on by bad-faith presenters.
With that said, I’m proud of people like Cameron Brink standing up for trans rights in a time when equality has apparently become a heated discussion. Of course, and I’m sure the haters don’t recognize this, she was on a team for one season with the only publicly trans WNBA athletes IN HISTORY, so she ideally understands their humanity better. It’s soul-crushing to have a president who joked in the past month about having LeBron James join the WNBA so that they could dominate over the best athletes. There’s no décor around this conversation, just a naked humiliation act from the crowd who once tried to argue “defend women’s sports.” They didn’t stop the dildos from flying on court to win stupid online bets. Now they’re laughing at two men, quite transphobically, pretending to be women and not understanding the complications of dysphoria or the medical steps to become legally recognized as a woman.
I hate it for many reasons, let alone that we’re otherwise in a great time for the league. There are so many talented teams out there all fighting for top honors, and it’s been a thrill to see how far they all wind up. While my local team bowed out early, I still have hope for The Atlanta Dream, who have been a thrill to watch this season. I also want to give a shout out for The Golden State Valkyries, who haven’t stopped running this state since Day 1. With that said, I got to see them play earlier this month, and they were fantastic. If I didn’t believe in their potential before, I am more than ecstatic for their future. Also, happy to finally see Kaitlyn Chen, who was on a shortlist of names I’ve been dying to see.
Maybe this is coming off too much as rambling, but I have one last thing about this sport before I continue. As a self-professed fan of mascots, I was more than elated to know that, in a one-week period, the new kids on the block both got their own representation. Up first was The Toronto Tempo, who landed on Dez the Turtle and Dot the Hare. I think the symbolism is a bit overstretched, but they still are an attractive pair. I especially like Dot, if just because her eyes look like a cat chasing a laser pointer. The other, which I was able to predict more easily, was Rosie the Dragon for The Portland Fire. She’s maybe a bit too flamboyant for my tastes, but she fits the vibe of Oregon’s latest very well, and it’s nice to see a mascot that breathes glitter. Also, humble brag here: I was one of the first 30 people to follow them on Instagram after the announcement.
Okay, I promise to move on now. At the start of the month, I wrote an article detailing the first two games of The WBPL, or Women’s Professional Baseball League. A major reason that I’ve been supportive is that the overall number one pick, Kelsie Whitmore, is an alumna of my sister’s university (Go Titans!) and I want to see her go all the way. There are only four teams, so certain match-ups have been more predictable in the weeks since, but I’m loving the energy of all four teams so far. I’m personally riding for The San Francisco Firebells, but I can’t deny the power of The New York Heights so far. As long as this league continues to build, I’m betting they’ll be the powerhouses of the franchise… and not just because both have the leading home run scorers right now. Though, for real, Whitmore is kicking butt right now and I’m happy for everyone on the team. I’m also happy that there’s legitimate rivalry and not just one dominant team.
It goes without saying, but as of this publication, we are officially back into the season for NCAA women’s volleyball! It technically started last week with some of the better schools, but this week marks the start of the teams I care most about: The Big West. While this year, unfortunately, won’t feature U.C. Davis or the incomparable talent of Hawaii, there’s still a lot to be hopeful for. CSULB is currently ranked number two in the coach’s poll behind my other favorite school in the division, Cal Poly. There’s not enough to go off of other than it was a year of major turnover, so we’ll be seeing a lot of new faces. I’m nervous about their chances against UCLA tonight, but at least it’ll get the gears turning again.
To continue moving in a more positive direction, I feel like mentioning some of the ways that I’ve been beating the heat. For starters, I went out and saw The Odyssey (2026) again, which, fun fact, is a very good movie and my first double-dipping of Christopher Nolan in theaters since Dunkirk (2017). I’m also a fan of the new Marvel film Spider-Man: Brand New Day (2026), which I think updates the character with a sense of maturity and depth that I feel like the last film really lacked. Spider-Man: Far From Home (2019) is still my favorite of the Tom Holland era, but this one comes close to matching that overall pathos.
Then there was one of the movies I was most anticipating from August. I’ve been a Jane Schoenbrun fan since watching We’re All Going to the World’s Fair (2021) many years ago. It captured the sensation of scrolling online late at night and looking for connection. At the time, I wouldn’t have been able to predict that the director would jump directly to mainstream cineplexes. In fact, I’m still not sure how Schoenbrun swung that deal, given that I Saw The TV Glow (2024) is a movie that still shakes me on a very personal level. It’s a masterpiece that will likely stay in my Top 10 for the decade for some time.
That is why I was curious to see Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma (2026). Even if I’m surprised that they kept the name given how titillating it is, I think it lives up to the promises it offers. Schoenbrun continues to favor a personalized deconstruction of media that delivers plenty of humor and heart in ways that I wouldn’t expect. Even if I was more indifferent to this one than I wished (not into slasher movies), I commend them on giving Schoenbrun an astounding budget to achieve such a gorgeous movie. Not only that, but to sit in a popular theater in a run-of-the-mill mall and see a movie co-starring Louise Weard, Avalon Fast, and Eva Victor feels like a small win during a period when queer representation is being discarded. Though if this film needed *any* additional support, I was at the same Los Angeles Sparks vs. Las Vegas Aces game as Hannah Einbinder, so we are sympatico.
Probably the biggest highlight in a theater is Six: The Musical (2025). While I was closer to indifferent when seeing it on stage, I found myself in constant awe of the film version. Part of it was familiarizing myself with the material enough to know what’s going on. However, it’s also just that I got to see it with some awesome family members who were dancing in their seats the entire time. There’s a vivacity to it that, while not my favorite musical, lands in ways that the best theater has. It knows its audience and really caters to their impulses.
On a more technical level, I was impressed with the presentation in ways I haven’t been with anything since probably Hamilton (2020). Whereas the Lin-Manuel Miranda work was tailored to perfection, most pro-shots, to me, feel like they’re too eager to be film and miss elements of what it’s like to be in the room where it happens. Outside of Waitress (2023), most of the recent run has a few marks against it despite being shows I love with all of my heart. Six, meanwhile, incorporates new techniques that enhance the live setting and make it feel as counterculture as it’s trying to be. Hadestown (2026) may be a better show, but I took issue with the pro-shot because it removed certain elements (turntables) from focus. Six is much smaller yet comes across as more expansive because of the ingenuity in technique. Also, the songs are bops. If I had to make a shortlist of how to make these types of works, I’d put Six on there in a heartbeat.
Which, speaking of music, it’s been a good month for the old song and dance as well. On top of The Lost Boys OBCR being very charming and epic, I have a few records that stand to be on my best of the year list whenever that comes out.
The most predictable is, of course, Phoebe Bridgers’ “The Lost Weekend.” As the album was coming out, I was reflecting on how “Punisher” was a formative record for me in 2021 because it was what I listened to every day before attending Zoom meetings for class. It centered me and gave me some hope during a time when melancholy was on my mind. The new album may not be a grand slam for me as of yet, but Bridgers has always been a thrilling lyricist, and I love how she explores the meditative nature of post-pandemic life and the fears of living in a world without the ones you love – a concept I think was done a little better on the new Hyd record but in different manners. I’m sure this one will continue to grow on me.
Also, shoutout to Boards of Canada’s “Inferno” and Arca’s “XXXXX” for providing the ambient alternative. I’m especially in love with Arca’s experimentation and find it to be one of the most engaging oddballs I’ve run across so far this year. I’m new to the world of Boards of Canada, who, outside of a Backrooms (2026) track, I hadn’t heard before. If all of their music is this immersive of a soundscape, then put me on the fan list and ship me out.
It’s also been a good time for rap. Thierra Whack’s “Whack’s Museum” is a great mix of clever rhymes and addictive flows that also touch on the vulnerability of getting older and thinking of one’s legacy. With that said, a record that almost missed the cutoff here, Denzel Curry’s “ii” seems destined to be my fast food record of the year. Given how much I bumped “King of the Mischievous South, Vol. 2” over the past two years, you can guess how eager I am to hit replay on the new one. I’m not as well-versed in his larger career, but everything since “Melt My Eyez, See Your Future” has been awesome. This record in particular scratches an itch of carefree, go-for-broke energy that makes me want to get up and dance. I love it. If it’s not in my Top 10 for the year, then 2026 will have delivered in the last four months. One final shoutout to Open Mike Eagle’s “Doomed!” which is another lowkey gem, even if I’m so used to his YouTube livestreams that he sometimes sounds closer to talking than rapping.
To touch on some other stray art that I’ve been getting into this past August, let me highlight SlimGiltSoul. From what I gather, they make their own comic book art where a lot of the characters are designed to look like cats. If you’re familiar with certain posters for Louise Weard’s Castration Movie series, you’ll know exactly what it looks like. With that said, I checked out a lot of the available work, and I enjoy their storytelling on top of the Mid-2000s Millennial nostalgia technique that incorporates MySpace and various iconography from the time. It’s very much about the introspection of the youthful hedonist and a life beyond those ambitions. Their latest seems to be focused on their actual cat, so it’s a lot more heartfelt, but even so, I find their technique to be very intriguing.
Also in the loosely related world of Weard is a musician named fixurheartsordie. She came out with a recent EP called “Container” that’s a lot of fun. I’ll openly admit that part of the appeal is this person’s obsession with the Castration Movie series, including many that have yet to come out. We don’t talk often, but I made contact on a YouTube video, and there was plenty to like right off the bat. I’m curious to check out their entire discography at some point. Their Letterboxd is also plenty of fun, given their love of supposedly having bad opinions (they’ve also seen Camp Miasma at least three times from what I’ve seen).
The harder one to explain is my discovery of the video game Class of 09. As someone who graduated in 2008, the title alone has some intrigue even if I had no idea what to expect. In fact, I saw it on a YouTube short, long before I knew what it was. I remember laughing at the absurdity of the anime footage and wanted to learn more. This is to say I’ve been going down that rabbit hole and, if it means anything, it’s a tad less traumatizing than when I had a few nights of trying to figure out what Doki Doki Literature Club was. Class of 09 is broader comedy than that, and I think weirdly lands as an example of offensive, over-the-top comedy from the time, even if I feel like the sting wears off after 20 minutes. Then again, I’ve mostly watched things out of context, so it’s been a lot of weird violent lesbian jokes and parental neglect.
Yes, I’m aware of allegations against the creator. Part of my research is trying to make sense of the larger history because it does seem like the type of work that had a few skeletons in its closet. Despite my hope that every edgy comedian is secretly nice and using their creativity to let out their impulses, I recognize that sometimes the satirist can become the satire, and that does ruin Class of 09 a little bit. Even so, I can’t shake it yet because it’s weirdly nostalgic, even if it also feels at times like I’m just succumbing to somebody else’s idea of the time and not something more genuine.
I’ll admit that I don’t play video games at all, so a lot of this is secondhand material found long after the fact. I’m not trying to suggest I’m cool for finding any of this, yet it’s something on my mind. Maybe it’s because my mind is a bit mushy after the heat wore me down, but sometimes the carelessness of the jokes does it for me. I may not want the world to be full of cruel, heartless people, but sometimes having a safe distance goes a long way towards making it more palatable. For what it’s worth, this miserable weather got me to buy a Pom Wonderful for the first time in years. The bottle’s awesome. Not sure what it has to do with this topic other than it’s another random thing from many years ago that I haven’t seen around in a while.
One last thing before I start wrapping this up. HBO came out with a new series called Lanterns that I really enjoy. I’ve been more positive on Damon Lindelof lately ever since I rewatched The Leftovers last year and found it to be one of the greatest shows I’ve seen. Watchmen is also something that rates very highly. While he seems to be in a more minor role here, I was curious to see what he brought to The Green Lantern world, especially when the film version is notoriously bad. I’m not that well-versed in Hal Jordan lore, so this was a chance to break in.
Keep in mind that this is only two episodes in. However, I love what he’s doing with the characterization. For as much as I want old-timey, colorful, goofy nonsense, I do appreciate Lanterns taking its time to establish a connection between character and location. There’s been so much to grip onto and appreciate, and it honestly makes the few moments of superhero gimmickry land all the better. I also want to shout out Kyle Chandler, who has always been great and is delivering a top-notch performance here. There’s plenty of humor and plot twists to keep things fresh. Along with X-Men ’97, this has been a good time for comic book TV.
As much as I feel like I could keep going, I’m going to stop here. Despite feeling exhausted and weak right now, there’s clearly been a lot on my mind. I try not to get too rambling, but that’s the nature of this column. It’s an encapsulation of how I feel at the time. Unfortunately, it’s been a period of turmoil and division. Even so, the recent tributes to Dolly Parton are enough to remind you that there’s some good in the world and, if she had her way, that influence will continue to inform generations long after this moment ends.
I’m not entirely sure what I want to say to wrap this up. September is the start of Fall season, and I’m sure that’s going to bring its own jubilees. At this moment, I’m looking at the immediate calendar and notice that Sara Bareilles has a new album out called “Good Grief” that looks promising. Mike D of The Beastie Boys is also making an album. The new Evita with Rachel Zegler is dropping and, given how much I love her work on “The Last Five Years,” I am definitely down for that interpretation. I think I’ve also seen the trailer for Primetime (2026) enough that I’m sold on Robert Pattinson’s intensity. Speaking of, John Wilson has a new film called The History of Concrete (2026), and I’m very charmed by the trailer. At the same time, Da Ali G Show has a new spin-off called Ali G: Who Iz I? (2026) that I’m not sure looks great, but I’m nothing if not a fan of Sacha Baron Cohen’s three O.G. characters. Booyakasha!
I’m not sure what’s going on in the personal realm that I care to discuss here. Life’s been okay so far, and I hope it cools down enough for me to start going for walks and clearing my head again. Until then, I’m just going to stay creative and keep working on my short story collection (release date: TBD October/November). It’s been rewarding to edit them and remember that even if I’m critical of myself sometimes, I can at least make myself laugh.
So yeah. Sorry if this seemed a bit all over the place and didn’t really go anywhere. August kind of feels that way. For what it’s worth, that’s how things feel right now. I’m doing fine. Could be better. Even so, I got volleyball on the horizon. That can only lead to good things. I hope you have that one thing keeping you happy this summer. It definitely helps to find balance sometimes.
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