if i met a genie and fixed the world and all its ills with my first two wishes, my third wish would be that sabrina carpenter would get gradually taller. she’d be in on it and think it was hilarious. we’d have a strong cap at 7 feet here, maybe an inch a week so people have time to theorize–let’s not be ridiculous. but she’d still keep up the “ooh! im so little and small!” schtick. but shed be gradually getting taller. she’d be like 6'1" and still jumping for the microphone. and she’d never say anything about it. and if anyone asked shed act like she had no idea what they were talking about. and shed cheekily play into it a little bit but mostly still keep up the “ooh im so little and small” schtick. do you see my vision. do you get it
ok and so if i met a genie and fixed the world and all its ills in one wish i would do the sabrina carpenter thing second and third i would wish for all evidence of one random taylor swift song to disappear from the world once every month or so. taylor would have no memory of it. her fans would remember it and there would be an outcry over where it went (it’s not even in concert videos anymore!) but taylor would have no memory of it
instead, all her brainspace spent on that song would be replaced with the vivid memories of roman gladiator, taylaurius velox. she’s able to hide this at first, but her music begins to take on a gradually romaner and romaner tint. at first, people are like “damn, she’s getting REALLY conservative, huh” and other people are like “wow, she’s so deep, she knows what a rubicon is” but eventually travis kelce leaves her out of nowhere (he wasn’t sure if dating someone possessed by a roman gladiator made him gay or not and anyway he was getting sick of being like “we’re going to play the lions” and taylor being like “LIONS? WHERE?”) and taylor publishes an entire brutus themed album about this betrayal and it’s beginning to weird people out
and so eventually travis kelce is getting like, bomb threats sent to his family for leaving taylor and eventually he’s like “okay, okay, i left her because she kept having all these vivid nightmares of gladatorial combat and she kept saying that football was giving her the ick because we never actually killed anybody for the glory of rome” and then he just gets more bomb threats because he left a struggling woman during a mental health crisis
and eventually taylor is writing music about her forbidden roman senator lover and her fanbase is either whittled WAY down or WAY up because people want to watch this trainwreck happen (or maybe she influences culture so hard that we’re just all really into rome now) but she’s being super cagey about the name of this roman senator. until. and now here’s the twist:
weird al has been getting all of the same vivid memories of taylaurius velox. and he still has all his memories of her old songs. so he’s writing all these detailed song parodies of taylor swift songs that don’t exist anymore including specific details about their shared gladiatorial reality that taylor has never shared with anybody else. including that her lover’s name was publius, and she’s been calling him Poob for short
at this point a lot of original swifties are leaving. they could do the brutus stuff, but they really can’t survive poob. taylor makes a clapping back at the haters song including the lyric “these bitches don’t know publius” and it ends up all over all sorts of merch. there’s a renewed archaeological interest in roman gladatorial combat
most importantly, the internet discourse is the best it’s ever been. does this make taylor swift transmasc? is travis kelce problematic for leaving his fiancee while she gradually morphs into a roman gladiator? is this good queer representation? if taylaurius velox was a gay man, does that mean the gaylors were technically correct? is weird al morally wrong for capitalizing off of her music if she cant remember it anymore? was weird al sent by god to torment taylor swift?
When I am elected president I will institute a law saying that anyone with a net worth over 50 million must, at their own expense, employ a Jester. They must feed, clothe, and house the Jester according to the Jesters wishes, may not fire the Jester, and may not retaliate against the Jester, as the Jester will have Jesters Privileges.
One must spend at least three hours per day on the company of your Jester, and allow the Jester access to your quarterly reports.
The Jesters will be chosen by voluntary lottery. Jesters will be regularly interviewed to make sure they have not become Lackeys.
This law will prevent rich folk from being surrounded with vapid yes-men. A lot of problems with the world right now are happening becuse rich and powerful men don’t have anybody on hand to say “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
ALT
