Yapjaw: This Newsletter Peaked In High School
Slackjaw readers and patrons of comedy, my name is Adam Dietz and I am the editor of Slackjaw’s thrice-monthly newsletter Yapjaw. Each month, I will showcase the best and brightest humor on Slackjaw in addition to some other cool stuff from equally cool spots. As a middle-class kid growing up in suburban Michigan, an unpaid editing opportunity like this one was something that only existed in my wildest dreams.
On this week’s edition of Yapjaw, we’re talking jazz, squirrels, and The Great Gatsby. Want the goods? Keep reading!
Slackjaw’s Best In Show:
The only thing I’ll know is deep faultless inner peace unknown to anyone on earth.
Great Work From Other Great Places:
Father “Kind of Bummed” He Didn’t Receive Praise From Strangers While Grocery Shopping With His Children by Andrew Knott in Frazzled
Poseidon, God Of The Sea, Has The “Talk” With His Son, Percy Jackson by Lincoln Sorscher in McSweeney’s
I Am The Narrator Of The Tell-Tale Heart, And I’m Here About The Elder Care Position by Gregg Siegel in Greener Pastures Magazine
Network Notes For The Upcoming Frasier Reboot by Alex Griffiths in Points In Case
A Letter to the Tenant From the Squirrel Living in the Attic by Julia Giantomasi in Greener Pastures Magazine
From The Slackjaw Editors’ Desk:
9 Ways To Fake Authenticity For Your Personal Brand by Alex Baia in Slackjaw
The Great Lakes Gatsby by Troy Doetch & Adam Dietz in McSweeney’s
Slackjaw editor, and all-around kind soul, Sarah James wrote a dang book! Entitled “The Woman with Two Shadows,” this fascinating debut historical novel details one of the most closely held secrets of World War II and the woman caught up in it. The book is available wherever books are sold and also here.
Letter to the Editor:
Sometimes when I can’t sleep at night I do this thing where I envision everyone being at my funeral. It’s a huge crowd wherein everyone is really sad, devastated really. They all say really nice things and talk about how great I look in the coffin. When I do this, it makes me feel comforted and usually results in me falling asleep. Am I weird?
-Becca from Haines City, Florida
I assure you that you’re not weird. I think thoughts like this are more common than you think. I am not immune to feelings of the sort as I, too, have imagined my own funeral. In my mind, it’s a massive affair, probably large enough to fill a minor league baseball stadium, and the surrounding parking lots, and frankly… it’s pretty devastating for those who attend. At the wake, all of my friends, loose acquaintances, and even my enemies stand and expound on how cool, handsome, and funny I was. It’s slightly appealing, everyone dressed in their finest death clothes talking about how great you were (even if you weren’t) and how much you will be missed (even if you won’t), and I believe that thinking about all of it is pretty natural.
Admittedly it’s a bit hubristic and a more than a little masturbatory. Perhaps it’s grounded in some kind of concern that people won’t care or show up when we’re gone, but I think being able to take comfort in such an event and occurrence is a lot better than the opposite, Becca. No, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you. I really don’t. With that said next time you can’t sleep, I might try counting sheep or picturing yourself walking through lush woods while Cat Stevens plays in the distance. Taking comfort in death is one thing, but thinking about it every night is entirely another.
The Final Bell:
Interesting in submitting to Slackjaw? Of course you are! Our submission guidelines can be found here.
Spread the word, comment below, tell your friends. Keep reading, writing, drinking, eating, and doing your thing.
Until the next edition of Yapjaw, take it easy.