Volume 5, Issue 57: He Is Risen

"Why don't you take my appointment? It'd be my good deed for the day."

My upcoming novel, Lloyd McNeil’s Last Ride, will be released on May 20. I believe you will like it. I hope you will pre-order it. Send me your pre-order receipt and I’ll send you a book plate and enter you into a contest to, like, hang out with me. Details here.

Much of America has spent this week with its collective hair on fire. It was impossible not to be touched by it in one way or another. Friends whose children have special medical needs anguished whether money for expensive medical procedures and life-saving drugs would still be available. Non-profits and charitable organizations, people whose sole calling is to help people in need, called emergency meetings to figure out how to survive a sudden evaporation of vital federal funding. We suffered our first fatal commercial plane crash in more than 15 years, a horrific tragedy that killed 67 people, and when we turned to our government for answers, or at least some sort of solace, we got incompetence, cruelty and downright wickedness. My father, who like most people has tried to take a break from politics and the news but quite reasonably turned on his television Thursday afternoon to find out why the plane fell out of the sky, was so haunted by the official response—”you want me to go swimming?”—that he could barely speak. It sure looks like a drug addict has orchestrated a governmental takeover, with the goal seemingly a fundamental teardown of the American financial system. It’s absolutely terrifying out there. We all had our fears. But it’s happening very quickly.

Figuring out how to respond to all this—how to try to help, how to combat it, how to keep one’s wits, how not to drown in it all—has become in many ways the fundamental struggle of this age. It is a question I find myself struggling with every day, and particularly in weeks like this one. I have my own life, my own family, my own obligations, my own mental health to worry about; I cannot neglect what is directly in front of me, what I am responsible for, because I have lost myself in the madness of the current state of the nation. But I also cannot stick my head in the sand, myopically tunnel-visioned on those closest to me, while those outside that carefully curated field of vision suffer, and the barbarians inch ever closer to the gate. How do you balance that? How do you distract yourself from the chaos of living through unsettled times without abdicating your place in them? How do you help when you are discouraged, when it feels like forces are so aligned against what you believe to be just and good that it seems like nothing you could do could possibly make a dent? What can you possibly do?

I want to figure out what we can do. And I wonder if you might want to help.

I am not specifically talking about direct political action, though of course that’s a part of it; one of the reasons the sudden spending freeze was lifted this week (for now, anyway) is because there was actual backlash and public outcry. That’s good: That’s a reminder that pressure works, that there can in fact be effective pushback, that normal rules of political gravity do in some ways still apply. But I am talking more holistically, in ways both universal and personal.

When I wrote about this a couple of weeks ago in the context of focusing on the little things rather than being overwhelmed by the largest ones, I found myself holding on to one specific mantra: Make the world a little bit better than it was five minutes ago. Maybe it’s for one person. Maybe it’s for several. Maybe it’s just for yourself. It’s putting something out into the planet that wasn’t there before. Whatever action one can take to move the needle just the tiniest bit. It will surely feel, in the moment, woefully, almost comically insufficient, an attempt to drain the ocean with a strainer. But you gotta get the little bit of water out that you can, just that little bit at a time. It might end in change, and it might not. But it is something. To get so discouraged that you quit isn’t just precisely what the forces aligned against goodness want you to do; it’s inherently self-destructive. It puts their rot inside you.

Maybe it’ll make a difference. Maybe it won’t. But it damn sure isn’t gonna hurt.

So let’s come up with some stuff. Let’s find some simple little things we can all do.

I’ll start: Here’s a little thing I’ve been doing. When I see someone out there doing something good, someone who is skilled at what they do, who values it, who works hard at it and takes pride in their particular corner of the universe, and it’s something that I find myself appreciating that it exists and is done with such care, I simply drop them a note to let them know their their care was noticed and has not been done in vain. This can be a person who is doing anything. I’ve sent these notes to teachers, to photographers, to sports beat reporters, to restaurant owners, to construction crews, to ER doctors, to the guy down the road who always makes sure the street is clear of tree branches after a storm.

These notes are not complicated, or overly flowery, or meant to be read as part of some sort of overarching movement. They are straightforward. I see the work you are doing. Your work is of a high quality and is appreciated. It has, in its small way, enhanced my life. Thank you for it. People do not do these things, I don’t think, because they want praise, or pats on the back, or an ego boost. I’ve generally found that people who crow the most about the good work they’re doing are often, in actuality, doing the least. But these people, those I like to reach out to, I believe they are doing them because they care about their craft, or their little corner of the universe, and think that it might make the rest of the universe a little bit better too. But they still always appreciate the note. It is important that people who are doing good know that people are noticing.

Do I think this is immediately going to change the world? I do not. But encouraging people who are doing good—no matter what it is they are doing this good for, whether it’s “important” or meets some sort of threshold for “the common good”—is never going to be an effort that is wasted. One of the hardest parts of this past week has been seeing quiet, unheralded competence not just ignored, but actively attacked: People who have dedicated themselves to a specific field—whether it’s governmental bookkeeping, providing meals for underprivileged kids, examining weather patterns, being a part of all these small bureaucratic banalities that we all take for granted and complain about but provide the gears that run the machine that allows tens of millions of people’s daily lives to actually work—having their expertised maligned or terminated entirely simply because they have that expertise. To care about something, to want to become as excellent at it as you can, to be your best self and share that with the world, is to be close to God: It is, yeah, to change the world. It's what all of this is supposed to be about.

Thus, I’ve tried to let those people know: I see you. And thank you. I plan on continuing to do so.

So that’s one thing I’m trying to do. I am sure many of you are doing something yourselves. So let’s make a list.

Moving forward, every week in this newsletter, we will have a section called “How To Help.” It will feature stories from readers sharing the things they’ve tried to do in their daily lives to make the world a little bit better during this unsettling, tumultuous time. I’ve actually set up an email address for this: howcanonepersonhelp@gmail.com. You can also just email me personally at williamfleitch@yahoo.com, or just respond to any newsletter—it all just goes straight to me. But please tell me your stories, your strategies, your little ways to make a difference, to cope, to make it through … to drain the ocean whatever small way you can. And we’ll see if we can all maybe get through this together … and may even help out a little while we’re at it.

Here is a numerical breakdown of all the things I wrote this week, in order of what I believe to be their quality.

1. The New Levels of Losing, As Exemplified by the Bills, The Washington Post. I am sorry, Bills fans.

2. The Bills Torture Has Reached New Levels, New York. I am really sorry, Bills fans.

3. MLB Season Preview: Team in Every Division With the Highest Stakes, MLB.com. Season preview continues. Talked about this one on MLB Network.

   

   They have started calling my segments “Pen Is Mightier,” but my kids of course just call them “Penis Mightier.”

4. Steven Soderbergh Movies, Ranked, Vulture. Updated with Presence.

5. Illini Power Rankings, Illini Board. I write this to keep myself sane. (In a way that is not entirely successful.)

6. Some Lingering Players We’re Still Waiting to Move, MLB.com. Things moving real slowly here right before everything starts.

PODCASTS

Grierson & Leitch, no show this week.

Morning Lineup, I did Friday’s show.

Seeing Red, Bernie Miklasz and I did our first show of 2025, though the Cardinals still haven’t done anything.

LONG STORY YOU SHOULD READ THIS MORNING … OF THE WEEK

“What Happened When America Emptied Its Youth Prisons,” James Forman Jr., The New York Times Magazine. A great story about some actual great news … and why it happened.

ONGOING LETTER-WRITING PROJECT!

This is your reminder that if you write me a letter and put it in the mail, I will respond to it with a letter of my own, and send that letter right to you! It really happens! Hundreds of satisfied customers! (Got some more of these out this week, stand by.)

Write me at:

Will Leitch
P.O. Box 48
Athens GA 30603

CURRENTLY LISTENING TO

“Bored,” Waxahatchee. This is a great band, one opening for Wilco on their tour this spring. Their album is “Tigers Blood” from last year is killer start to finish.

Remember to listen to The Official Will Leitch Newsletter Spotify Playlist, featuring every song ever mentioned in this section. Let this drive your listening, not the algorithm!

Also, there is an Official The Time Has Come Spotify Playlist.

Saw MJ Lenderman at the great 40 Watt last night. Another great mental health activity: Get out to a rock show.

Have a great weekend, all.

Best,
Will