Playing the Victim

New Highs: abject nudes, flip-flop heels, dog food, nervous breakdowns, motion picture soundtracks

I’ve fallen into a pattern of beginning every day like a cold open out of the Alan Ball series Six Feet Under: watching somebody die. Typically, it’s a heinous, eviscerating death. I’m not sure what tipped my algorithm into becoming a nickelodeon of snuff films, but there seems to be no way to turn it off. The other day, for example, I watched a video o…