Summary

The narrative describes a meeting at the Mill, where the protagonist and his flunky, Pee Wee, are informed by Charles Van Ness, an Ivy League-educated account manager, that their Medium project is underperforming, prompting an urgent editorial meeting to address the issue.

Abstract

In the office at the Mill, the protagonist is engaged in a game of cribbage with his assistant, Pee Wee, when Charles Van Ness, the account manager for the Medium project, interrupts them. Despite initial resistance due to Van Ness's role as a 'bean counter,' the protagonist finds him to be a likeable individual, despite his preppy attire and elite education. Van Ness delivers bad news: their Medium posts are not attracting readers, and the platform's limitations are being blamed for the lack of engagement. The protagonist, having chosen the platform, is now under pressure from Mrs. Bottlesworth-Potsdam to improve the situation before the project is terminated. It is revealed that the project's funding comes from questionable sources, and the protagonist takes drastic measures to convene an editorial meeting to salvage the project.

Opinions

The protagonist initially dismisses Van Ness as a mere 'flunky' of the publisher, indicating a clear separation between editorial and business roles.
Despite Van Ness's privileged background, the protagonist acknowledges his good nature and normalcy, suggesting a change in the protagonist's initial perception.
The protagonist criticizes the Medium platform for its shortcomings, such as the lack of a following list and poor user engagement, attributing the project's failure to these issues.
The protagonist's decision to choose the Medium platform based on the potential for seeing people in their underwear is humorous and indicates a casual approach to the project.
The urgency of the situation is underscored by the threat of funding withdrawal from Mrs. Bottlesworth-Potsdam if the audience engagement does not improve.
The revelation that the project's capital came from the Tong is met with disbelief, highlighting the protagonist's ignorance of the funding source.
The protagonist's unconventional methods, such as using the budget for a copy editor to subscribe to Grammarly and purchasing a Steam Machine instead of hiring a fact checker, suggest a non-traditional and perhaps haphazard approach to the editorial process.

A Visit From Charles Van Ness

The Angel of Death Has No Body Fat Either

So I was in the office at the Mill playing cribbage with Pee Wee, my flunky, when this kid named Charles Van Ness came in. He’s the “account manager” for the Medium project this summer. We used to call account managers “bean counters”, I think. I once asked him what he did, and he said that he was in charge of “metrics” and making sure the Mill got “a good return” on the project. “So you’re the publisher’s flunky?” I said, “I should throw you out of this office. This side of the wall is editorial, kid. You don’t come in here unless you’re inviting us to lunch or delivering a bottle of scotch.”

He didn’t leave, and he turned out to be OK. He went to an Ivy League school, but he’s really a good guy. I know, it’s hard to believe. He also majored in mathematics, but, I promise, he’s pretty normal. I should mention that he played varsity lacrosse in college, wears boat shoes and button-down shirts, and sports aviator Ray-Bans when outside, but really, I know… trust me… it defies credibility… but if you met him you would like him. He’s very nice.

So I knew when he came in that we were in some trouble. The business office only sends him down when things are bad. As soon as Charles came in, Pee Wee put down his cribbage hand and picked up his paper, which means he’s been snitching on me again.

The kid said our Medium numbers are in the toilet, nobody is reading the posts we put up.

“It must be the platform,” I said, “Look, this is the same con we’ve run all across the Internet. It’s tried and true. Put up some dreck, make a few comments, create a couple of characters… it has always worked. The problem must be the site. Who uses notes? Why are the comments so sparse? How come you can’t see a list of writers you are following? It’s all a heaping pile of pretentious caca. If you’re looking for someone to flay, you should find out who put us here.”

“You picked the platform for the summer,” he said.

“I did?” I said. “Why did I do that?”

“At the time, you said that there might be pictures of people in their underwear.”

“Hmmm. That would be a good reason,” I said.

“As of today none of the articles you have posted have been recommended. You are a quarter of the way through the summer, and you have bupkis. Mrs. Bottlesworth-Potsdam says that if you don’t start generating an audience she will pull the plug before August.”

“Before the August solstice celebration?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“Hey,” I said, “How does a kid named Van Ness know the word bupkis?”

“I grew up on the Upper East Side.” He said.

“I should have known that,” I said. “Look, why are they so worried about numbers? I thought the Medium project was burning through some venture capital or something.”

“onDay’tay entionmay the enturevay apitalcay.”

“I don’t conjugate what you are saying,” I said.

“The ‘venture capital’ was from the Tong.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I said.

“I’m totally serious,” he said.

I started speaking into my Apple watch. “Pee Wee,” I said, “call the clowns, get the Gretchen sisters in here, assemble the usual gang of idiots, and dust off the kielbasa pot. We’re going to have an editorial meeting.”

“How do you have an Apple watch?” Charles asked, his face squinched up with a mixture of disapproval and shock.

“I budgeted for a copy editor and then bought a subscription to Grammarly instead. I bought a Steam Machine with the fact checker.”

“This is worse than I thought,” he said.

“You’re telling me,” I replied