These inexplicable “coincidences” may terrify you.
Am I stuck in the middle of a Stephen King novel? Or have I turned into Emma Thompson, the author in Stranger than Fiction?
I just read Allan Ishac’s excellent article comparing satire to fake news:
WARNING: SATIRE AHEAD
I wrote an anti-Trump humor post that upset so many people, my editor had to put a disclaimer on it that read, “Truth…
I was particularly drawn to these quotes:
“Fake news refers to stories that are created often by entities pretending to be news organizations solely to drive clicks and views based on nothing of substance.”
Finally, referencing Shepard’s definition, my views are not based on nothing but rather on very substantial bullshit. So, while a reader might not find my posts funny, and wouldn’t want to get any of it on the bottom of his or her shoes, they’re still not based on nothing. They’re based on making a farcical political point.
And then I thought of my own satiric writing. I’m a big Monty Ptyhon fan, so my take on comedy of the absurd makes it nowhere near as “real” (or as popular) as Ishac’s posts.
Sometimes I use graphic treatments (photoshop artist for hire) and text formatting to make my satire look like real news:
And sometimes I satirize fake news by writing fake news that looks like fake news trying to look like real news:
Elon Musk would be shocked if he saw this…
Is artificial intelligence writing Medium’s most popular stories?
I’m not sure if I’ve crossed over the line separating satire from fake news, but I’ve begun to worry about something far more serious.
What happens when my attempts at faking fake news turn into real news?
In May 2016, I wrote one of my favorite articles ever, featuring my absurd take on writing, Buddhism, quantum physics and the most absurd idea of all, a Donald Trump presidency.
To write or not to write… that is the question
A philosophical discussion of internal vs external validation
Here’s the direct quote:
And then President Trump tweets “push the button” to his personal assistant before any discussion can take place.
I didn’t think much about it. After all, even the Simpsons predicted a President Trump back in 2000.
But then I reread an even more absurd (and obscure) article I’d written in December of 2016 about the upcoming season of Game of Thrones. A minor character nicknamed “Little Hands” has taken over Kings Landing and the show runners can’t get him to stop tweeting the plot points about future episodes:
I totally forgot about this fake tweet I had created:
I wrote in May about an event that came to pass six months later. Then I wrote in December about an event that came to pass four months later. Is there a pattern here? It’s a little creepy, seeing what happens when I write about a little creep.
I’m scared and torn in two different directions, as the words of two great men echo in my mind:
With great power comes great responsibility…
Dios mio, I just kidding!!
Should I write about Trump’s proposed tax cuts for lobsters? Or maybe that they built the wall in the wrong place and now Brownsville, Texas is no longer part of the United States? Maybe I should play it safe and just write about how I won the lottery but they’re only paying in donuts.
Oh, and if things get even crazier in the next couple of months, you’ll know who to blame: