Another season has come and gone. We are officially in the fall weather, and I’m curious to know if this will be a good one. Ever since I began to ask myself what my favorite season is, I’ve paid closer attention to what makes each one unique. On the one hand, it’s made me more self-aware of time, meaning I’ve appreciated the smaller things in life. However, it’s also convinced me that, at least by the constructs of modern weather patterns, no season is perfect. For as much as fall might win just because it’s a more ruminative period, it still sits in the shadow of a looming winter. Halloween is fun, but what does it mean when I’ll probably walk into a Home Depot in two weeks and see an inflatable Christmas tree? It’s more ruminative, but it also feels like it’s being overtaken by a rude sense of impatience.
But to address my thoughts on Summer 2026… it was fine. Not having centralized air conditioning will humble you real fast as you try to overcome physical restraints. I’m not somebody who likes to have a fine layer of sweat every second of the day, and it messes with your head. I think what’s messed with me the most is that, for a few nights, I found myself struggling to sleep because it felt at 2 A.M. like I wanted it to at 2 P.M. While it made sitting outside in a coolish breeze the perfect respite, there were still the days to dread, where my body felt limited to the necessities. It sucks, especially when you’re the type to want to do everything. I was downright getting sick when, one day, the weather spiked to 108°. To make matters worse, it dropped exactly 30° by the same period the following week.
I know this sounds like complaining, but September has been a rough, confusing time where my mind has been largely on how to survive the conditions. Thankfully, there’s been enough lulls for me to make up for lost time, but it still messes with my head that Southern California is allegedly only weeks away from an El Niño of historic proportions. I’m sure I’ll survive, but the ricochet right now is not my friend. Also, I can’t help but wonder if a wet winter means we’ll suffer a dry period right before LA28 that puts some plans at risk. If you need another hint of where I’m going with that, look up Palisade Fire 2025. Two wet winters in a row and certain negligence lead to some devastating consequences… and a Billy Crystal one-man show he’s not even performing in Southern California.
Did I like this summer? I mean, sure. For as much as I’m trying to remember what was significant about September 2026, it keeps getting blurred into August. I have a few topics I’ll hit on, but this month didn’t feel very significant. In some ways, it’s hard when there’s more anticipation for Halloween and everyone else is settling in after Back to School mania has dissipated. Sure, it means I get to loiter in stores to find the hot new candies and/or soda (coming for you, Voo-Dew), but what even is September right now?
The upside is that I got to see the inaugural WPBL season come to an end with a north vs. south California battle. Over the past two months, I’ve taken comfort in putting on a game around 4 P.M. and letting it relax me into the evening. I’ve long been a San Francisco Firebells fan due to the captain being an alumnus of my sister’s school. Cal State Fullerton in general has great baseball/softball programs, and it’s been heartwarming to see Kelsie Whitmore get to thrive outside the literal second banana of Bananaball. With that said, WPBL might be more fun to watch than MLB at times solely because you can tell what players were drafted from there, because there were a lot of splits and trick dives mixed in with more serious moments.
If I’m being honest, The Firebells were my favorite, but I would’ve predicted The New York Heights to be the other contender. No shade to The Los Angeles Queens, but those two were powerhouses, and I loved watching them compete in the home run record. Then again, The Queens murdered The Firebells in one game with a one-inning count of 10 runs. While SF was able to respond in the next two games, it wasn’t enough for the finale. If I had to determine what caused the setback, it was the almighty power of Gayle the goose showing up after being M.I.A. during the previous two games. But, long story short, it was a fun season of baseball, and I can only hope WPBL continues to build on their success.
On a side note of something I didn’t get to see, I want to shout out The Long Beach Coast for making it to the finals in their first year. It’s a testament to how much talent is around here, and I’ve been encouraged by the general morale that’s been built in the short window. And yes, there was a Sublime Night. We are nothing if not cliché. My only disappointment is that the actual band didn’t show up, though I’m sure Don’t Push did a lovely job.
I would also like to highlight two other sports-related events that happened recently. Earlier this week, NBA player Nicolas Batum retired. As a Los Angeles Clippers fan, I got to see him a few times and, while I took umbrage with their starting lineup, I admired the supporting players who filled in the gaps and went the extra mile. Batum was one of them, and he leaves the league on a very positive note in my book. What I didn’t expect was for him to use the specific date as his own personal symbolism. According to the press, he watched his father die during a game in 1991 and was conflicted about it since. He chose to retire 35 years later, believing that he would succeed where his father didn’t and appreciate a life off the court.
On another note, Nneka Ogwumike of The Los Angeles Sparks is retiring after her own storied career. My history with The Sparks has been well-documented, so you’ll understand why I ultimately feel nostalgic about this news. I began going to games a bit too late to see Candace Parker play, but I got to see Ogwumike through highs and lows. Outside of the year she went to The Seattle Storm, I was there three times a season just watching her haul down the court. Even in 2026, during a season that might go down as The Sparks’ worst since 2021, she never gave up and only worked to develop a better reputation as “Madam President.” I’m going to miss her, and not just because the implosion leaves me uncertain as to what the off-season could possibly give us.
Oh, and I suppose it goes without saying, but… college volleyball is back. The black and gold are at things right now, preparing for the start of the regular season. I’m not sure what can be said other than I have enjoyed the preseason and think they’ve made a good argument for being one of the best teams in The Big West. Hoping that by next month’s entry I’ll have seen them a few times, or at least against Cal Poly because those teams bring the best out of each other. Also curious to see how Utah Valley, Sacramento State, and Cal Baptist do against the old hats now that my beloved Hawaii is in a different conference whose games I can’t just pop on ESPN+ on a Friday.
At the risk of fading from here into despair, I will say that I’m mixed on breaking down politics this month. From a California standpoint, there’s not a lot worth exploring as we get closer to Election Day. The simple truth is I have a strong idea of who I’m voting for, and Steve Hilton’s wishy-washy interview on Pod Save America didn’t do anything to change it. More than that, I’ve been concerned by how much of the national discourse remains interested in attacking the transgender community, especially since it seems so lazy at this point as a clear “we have nothing else to offer” talking point. I’ve heard of Texas candidates going after trans women and drag queens for no new reason, and it’s real “lady doth protest too much” vibes. I don’t get involved with other states’ local politics, but it’s upsetting how much is not about anything that betters the community. Hell, I feel that way every time the president uses a gaffe to make comedians do the tired, “Was that a joke?” routine for two minutes. It’s less funny when you accept that neither of them is making productive use of your time.
That may be why I’ll instead focus on the thing giving me hope. Along with seeing Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma (2026) with a largely queer cast, I have been putting in effort to watch more trans art. The obvious ones are, of course, Louise Weard and Vera Drew, but I’m trying to branch out and enjoy filmmakers who haven’t quite broken out yet. If I’m being honest, the 2020s will one day be studied for trans cinema the same way the 90s had New Queer Cinema. Not sure I’ve seen this generation’s Terminal U.S.A. (1993) yet, but PBS still has time to fund some truly deranged shit to air after Finding Your Roots.
Probably the biggest surprise so far has been Alice Mao Mackay. Not sure what it is this year with watching teenagers put my generation to shame (see also: Kane Parsons), but I’ve spent time over on Fawsome watching a variety of Mackay’s work. Something I don’t understand is how she randomly feels like the trans version of Xavier Dolan, who at only 22 has directed seven films. Not only that, but something must be different in Australia because T Blockers (2023) and Satranic Panic (2022) are phenomenally constructed movies with dazzling cinematography and editing. The performances also have some of the most kinetic trans characters I’ve seen in film history, let alone that they’re performing a screenplay with a level of confident camp that makes me understand how overbearing the American alternative is. Satranic Panic especially ends on a level of absurd performativity that gets me emotional BEFORE you realize it was written with that level of nuance and clarity by a 20-year-old.
My next goal would be to watch some Avalon Fast, especially since she’s somehow snuck into several other works I’ve seen this year. My sights are on Camp (2026), but I have nothing to report on at this time.
I bring this up because I do think the conversation has been progressively despairing on the American front. What is there to be hopeful for when the LGBTQIA+ community keeps getting cornered as the nonsense “political issue”? It’s why I’m grateful to have Jane Schoenbrun playing in mainstream theaters and that Girls Like Girls (2026) movie looks like a mid Mid-2000s safe lesbian movie. I get the value of feel-good, and I think it’s helped me to realize how joyless the people attacking them seem. I’ve long hated the sense of attack we’re forced to present to each other, but I get why most fall to it. The void’s been with us for over a decade. Our bodies can only pent up so much rage. Even still, I want something GOOD to happen one of these days.
Which I suppose makes it funny that this month’s YouTube target is someone very much against that ethos. I have no idea who Pens and Poison is, but she is obsessed with removing the Marxist read of literature. She constantly rails against contemporary fiction and calls it dumbed-down. I think it’s fair, though biased, how she presents her arguments – especially since she seems to favor Fyodor Dostoyevsky and (one of my personal favorites) William Faulkner. I suppose I’ve been curious to understand what her deal is because her expressiveness is sometimes too flamboyant to be sincere, yet I think she’s got decent skills of persuasion.
But what is her deal? There are moments where I’ll be listening and get the sense that she’s forming a victim complex: a college dropout who hated how discussions were going in more liberal directions. I’m not totally sure she’s discussing them from a vindictive place, yet there are moments where I get the sense she might have “biases” that kept her out of a greater experience. At the same time, I’m not sure what her platform is besides “read older books,” which I’ll second, but I also think one’s life is only substantial if you cherrypick from everywhere.
I don’t know. I’m also a regular viewer of The Second Story, even though her objectionability is more subtle, sometimes buried under a more prosaic presentation. My read is she’s much more prudish about sexuality, but I also think her last video was a decent call to action to have people read more.
Admittedly, I’m too far out of literary circles to really feel connected to any narrative. Despite once living off of TikTok, I never encountered BookTok. I have no bigger opinion about BookTok. If it gets you to read, more power to you. However, I do want fiction to be challenging and fun. Maybe not always at once, but I can recognize there are meaningful conversations to be had from where English currently stands. A.I. is becoming more of an interloping menace, and we need perspectives that highlight the good and bad about the modern industry. I’m not versed in the modern books that Pens and Poison hates, so I’m not sure how much is irrational bias, but I do agree that some trends seem to favor banality. I guess it’s something I need to look into more because I just bought two Colleen Hoover books used. That’s how far behind I am. For lack of a constructive way to end this section, I’ll highlight Salted Latte, who I think meets in the middle of the discourse and is the most engaging… and not just because they use a cat puppet.
I want to quickly address a few albums that have also made September a wonderful little romp. I’m not familiar with her larger discography, but as someone who has enjoyed The Alchemist’s previous producer credits, I gave Erykah Badu’s “Before the Wind Blows” a listen and love its trippy “stoner soul” atmosphere. Not sure how often I’ll return to it, but I want to imagine a few lazy nights will be coming up where I’ll want to expand my mind. If nothing else, it’s one of the most wonderfully creative listens I’ve had this year and could use more like it.
I’m also a fan of Pool Girl. Maybe it’s because her album is called “Melancholy Beach Town,” but it immediately went on my must-listen column. Again, it’s not a home run, but her name very much fits her vibe, and I’ve turned to it a few times since to just relax while imagining that a humid September is the middle of June. Shout out also to Slow Pulp’s “Melodie” and Orville Peck’s “Mule.” Is this the first year where I have three country albums on my Top 25 for the year? I really like the new Charley Crockett (but I always do) and Kacey Musgraves, so anything is possible. I owe some apology to Blondshell for not having anything to say at the time of publication. I’ve loved her other two albums, so I have high hopes for “Violins” when I listen to it sometime post-release of this essay. If nothing else, her Coachella set was aces.
Crossing the boundaries into TV and music, I have been pulled into Jay-Z in 8 like a sucker. I’m not sure how well it works for younger generations, but Jay-Z was widely considered the best rapper alive when I was in middle school. I’d even go so far as to say “The Blueprint” is a foundational album of early 2000s rap. I’m more than confident that this is all just a marketing ploy for some comeback album, but it’s as good as anything. It has me hooked to just see the lyrics on screen, allowing you to break down the internal rhymes and clever wordplay. So much about him describes effort, and I think it’s why I was fine with this being a very self-indulgent way to build a show.
Even more than Jay-Z, having Rick Rubin do the Q&A intrigues me as someone who also hails him as one of the most formative producers of modern music. He did the Johnny Cash “American” records, for crying out loud. Does “Hurt” mean nothing to you? So the premise was intriguing from the jump. Provided it didn’t just dwindle into business talk and say something truly meaningful, it could be the thing necessary to make me care on a deeper level. After all, who does a better job hyping up the arts than two career-long obsessives?
I’m not going to pretend that Jay-Z in 8 is some masterclass in TV. However, it’s very compulsive and has gotten me to go back to the older records and fill in the gaps. While I’m a little familiar with “Reasonable Doubt,” most of the work until “The Blueprint” is a blind spot. I’ve only gotten through “Vol. 1,” and… it’s pretty good. I’ll admit his downfall at this stage of his career is not having top-end producers crafting to his voice. It’s very dated sonically, and the hustler motif hasn’t always been my favorite. With that said, hearing grown men sing, “We don’t love these hoes” is objectively funny because it makes them sound like, in modern nomenclature, beta males. I’m also mixed on the choice to sample existing songs so nakedly, especially after the Dissect podcast showed me how to do it as an art. Sure, it can work, but not when Puff Daddy is that confident of a pervert over a Waitresses motif.
It also doesn’t help that maybe I’ve always been more of a full-picture person than I let on. Jay-Z is gifted, yes, but listening to “Only Built 4 Cuban Links” or “Supreme Clientele” recently shows the value of complementary production. It’s just as sampled and full of gangsterisms, but it has that perspective you won’t get from A Tribe Called Quest or DMX. You know what you get from Raekwon or Ghostface Killah. Meanwhile, Jay-Z on “Vol. 1” is fun and confident, but I need things to be more in sync. Not sure if I’ll do a complete listen, especially because I remember “The Blueprint 3” having real “OK Boomer” tones to it, but I’ll keep going so long as the show keeps working like catnip. I may even get into Rick Rubin’s work more deliberately to see why everything just clicks with that dude.
I suppose that, in the midst of wrapping up, I should highlight something major that’s happening in the not-too-distant future. For the first time since 2020, I will be releasing a new short story collection. I currently have “Periphery” scheduled for October 19, 2026. Set your calendars and prepare for 20 selected stories that I hope will be amusing and insightful.
The beauty of being a writer who gravitates towards regularly publishing short stories is that I have a big catalog to pull from. My hope is that, of the third I’ve chosen, these are the ones that made the most sense together. I’m also optimistic that it will be more cohesive than “Esoteric Shapes,” in part because I’ve improved as a writer overall, but also because my thematic focus was during 2020-2025 or thereabouts. That isn’t to suggest that this anthology will center around the pandemic, but consider it as having impacted the creative process, whether as a way to understand or escape. Long story short, I hope you enjoy it because it’s full of heart and humor, as well as an odd mix of how I’ve seen the world over five years.
And with that, another month has come to an end. The fall is upon us and I’m looking forward to seeing if it’ll be kinder than summer. Despite being bipolar about which years I’m in the mood for Halloween, I’m hopeful that this will be one of the better years, if just because it offers a chance to indulge in spookiness. Maybe I’ll get around to some Avalon Fast since I’m sure she’s got some horror tones to her work. I’ll also probably factor in some Abel Ferrara, who is two for two in my book of being a fun, gritty filmmaker. You probably know the one I’m thinking of.
Other than that, it’s time to celebrate a new Laika Studios film. I’ve been grateful to have grown up alongside every entry and to see one of the finest animation houses advance the form. I’ll admit to never loving anything as much as Coraline (2009), but there’s so much to stop and appreciate from them. I’d even go so far as to say their most recent before, Missing Link (2019) is an underappreciated gem that’s only gotten better every time I’ve seen it. If nothing else, it’s their funniest and is nudging Kubo and the Two Strings (2016) for second favorite. I am doing my best to not get spoiled on Wildwood (2026) yet, but I promise it’s one I’ll be seeing in theaters with the glee some misguided folks only save for Disney or Pixar titles.
Besides that… I guess it’s prestige season. Got some fun movies to look forward to. Can The Social Reckoning (2026) compare to the first? I… don’t know what else is out there. I’d love to think Robert Pattinson for Primetime (2026) has any traction, but that’s not what he does for A24. Not yet, anyways. I guess that Jane Schoenbrun’s also releasing a book soon enough, so I’m optimistic that will be a delightful use of my time.
Beyond that… I don’t know. The World Series of Baseball? Going to (possibly) see The Outsiders at Segerstrom? Maybe the El Niño will doom us all, and nothing happens. For now, I’m just going to hope the world gets better before then. Tired of high gas prices, and the political talk is just wheels spinning at this juncture. Something needs to happen, but what? The most I can do right now is take care of those I love and try to make tomorrow better than yesterday.
My hope is the same for you. If you’re dealing with the heat, I hope you find shelter. If it’s raining, may the umbrella be by your side. Whatever ails you, I hope there’s some sign that the world’s not a terrible place. It may feel that way because of some’s arrogance, but I like to think there are those who are kind and caring, who don’t make ridiculous ads for something called “Patriot Mobile” where the premise is that the phone provider shares your moral values. I get on some level that ethics matter, but I don’t want to live with that bubble. I love diversity and hearing new ideas. It makes the world feel more alive. Fingers crossed that you encounter compassion in your everyday life soon enough. It’ll make everything better, I promise.
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