I've been listening to fake guru voices, watching videos of charismatic new age leaders, and making cosmic GIFs for two months, nonstop, as a way to make amends for the emotional damage I inflicted on office drones a few months ago. This—Introspections.me—is the result. I feel like it's warped my mind.

At times, as circumstances dictate, we will cover the 2012 Republican National Convention in the style of noted New York Times columnist Thomas Friedman. The following reporting is 100% real:

The Labor Day weekend is a slow weekend at the movies, everyone's too busy trying to smother the dread of going back to work with hotdogs and beer, but there are still things opening! Beware of sharks! And moon aliens.

Pay attention: you will learn about a project called "American Sandwich," mumblecore filmmaker Andrew Bujalski's new film, a dumb joke about Do The Right Thing, somewhat profound insight, and this line on Goldman Sachs. Remember to breathe while reading. [n+1]

American genius thinker of the first order Mark Penn has produced yet another newspaper column, about a Microtrend, as is his wont. This one is about how We Are All Bosses Now and features many nonsensical space-filling words, namely:

Friend of the commoner Tom Wolfe is all white on the outside. But don't judge. The Observer caught up with the fancy author and had him explain what the rappers are talking about (SEX):

The March issue of Men's Journal (not online yet; subscribe, why don't you?) features a cover story on Josh Brolin, the mustachioed leading man who is stalked by Javier Bardem in "No Country For Old Men." As if that wasn't exciting enough, the story is written by child-loving Josh Stein nemesis Neal Pollack! Pollack doesn't get a chance to talk about his kids in the piece, but he does throw in some mentions of Brolin's kids, like this telling, priceless anecdote: "We did this one trip to Scotland. Just me and my kids. We had absolutely no plan...We used to have a running joke where I'd yell, 'Where do you wanna sleep tonight?' and the kids would yell, 'We don't care!'" Hahahahaha! We mention this by way of pointing out that this is potentially the least insightful celebrity profile in any magazine so far in 2008. Brolin picks Pollack up, they get stuck in traffic, they drive to Palmdale, they eat tacos, they go home. This is a completely accurate summary. Judge for yourself by this post-taco excerpt, which is, without exaggeration, the crowning achievement of Pollack's story: