Club Mediocrity

“I just wish they’d self-deprecate in the first person singular,” he says, “instead of electing me a de facto member of the club.”

I ask him why he cares what they think about themselves or about him by association, or even about how they work through their insecurities.

“Couldn’t it be that they’re just making light of adversity?” I say. “Why not laugh along?”

“Because it’s evolved into something more than a comedic through-line,” he says. “They’ve adopted it as our collective identity.”

“Club Mediocrity.”

“Yes.”