Lockdown in Hell World

PRAISE FOR LUKE O'NEIL'S WELCOME TO HELL WORLD

"A vital and despairing collection of essays on modern American life."

- Longreads

"Reading... Hell World is a lot like staring deep into O'Neil's soul, and it's often a pretty dark place."

- Boston Magazine

"Stream-of-consciousness reports that detail the many reasons reasonable people have to be angry right now."

- New York Magazine

"A fever dream... It's a lot to handle, but it's great."

- InsideHook
₹1,749.47

Adding to cart… The item has been added
  • 176 pages
  • Paperback ISBN 9781682194089
  • E-book ISBN 9781682192450

about the bookabout

Foreshadowing a subsequent exodus, Luke O'Neil and his wife moved from the city to the suburbs just prior to the lockdown. Isolated not only by a virus but also by the alienation of a neighborhood where social distancing meant more than just geographical separation, O'Neil faced trials on numerous fronts: How to avoid potentially lethal clashes with new Republican neighbors? How to continue a working life as one America's most electric, hard-hitting commentators without the opportunity of face-to-face reporting? How to maintain his own sanity, always a frail ship, while the world as we knew it disintegrated?

These pages chronicle that struggle. In turns furious, funny and philosophical they show a writer leavening his own feelings of helplessness by conversing with others experiencing the same discomfort - a postal worker, grocery store clerk, hotel receptionist, and people with kids stuck at home or Trump supporting family members. He talks, too, with a demonstrator whose eye was blinded by a police projectile on a Black Lives Matter protest.

Shifting back and forth across a summer lost to a virus and an economic system already deeply unjust and now profoundly dysfunctional, the sense of desperation that laces together O'Neil's taut rendering serves, paradoxically, to reassure: In battling to overcome the particular obstacles they face in the pandemic, working class people are in this together.

"Luke O'Neil is like no other journalist working today, fusing original reporting with memoir and frequently-profane observational humor to create what feels like a new type of truth-telling: precise, fucked-up, infuriating, and, somehow, beautiful. ...This is what it looks like when a gifted writer finds his voice". - Hamish McKenzie, co-founder of Substack

"Tells it like it is. ...It's that honesty, along with pure writing ability, creativity, and a heavy helping of empathy, that makes Luke's writing so special". - The Alternative

"At once scathingly ironic and disarmingly sincere..." - Full Stop Magazine

"Writings on contemporary matters, from politics to music ... should be beautiful but hideous at the same time-and O'Neil scratches that itch for a remarkable 538 pages". - Dig Boston

About The Author / Editor

Photo courtesy the author space after caption Luke O'Neil has written for Esquire, New York Magazine, The Guardian, The New York Times Magazine, The Washington Post, The Atlantic, Playboy, Slate, Vice, and many other publications. He is the author of Welcome to Hell World: Dispatches from the American Dystopia.

Read An Excerpt

I want to swallow all the days ahead at once

Its March and I am a child who knows nothing and you are a child who knows nothing except that we can feel something moving in the basement and we know not to go down there. It's August and we're huddled in a besieged grocery store as terrific insects hurl themselves against the glass wearing the faces of our loved ones bearing invitations to playdates and barbecues.

It's March and I am a child who knows nothing and the idea of being isolated at home and unable to see anyone for weeks more never mind months more seems so suffocating that if I let myself envision it I feel like I'm going to collapse. Instead what I try to do is think about it one day at a time as the folks in the famous secret program which I probably will need to join after this is all over like to say. You don't have to survive and wait out the entirety of this thing all at once right now all you have to do is make it through today I told people back then when I was a child. Tomorrow will probably be the same shit and the day after that too but tomorrow isn't your problem at the moment I said but children like me are very famously idiots.

It's April and we've just moved into our new home and after over a month of quarantine I don't know if I can take my own advice from way back in March anymore. I want to swallow all the days ahead at once right now in one disgusting gulp like I'm trying to hide evidence from the police or like I'm trying to smuggle the duration of the virus onto an airplane and then I take a restless nap on the plane and shit it out after and hand it off to someone else so it’s not my problem anymore. The relief when it's no longer in your possession. I want to come out the other side. I want to get to the part where we're all like What the fuck was that all about? then we all go get egg sausage and cheese on an English muffin at Dunkins and eat them silently and very fast in a bustling unworried crowd of people whose eyes don't have poison inside of them.

It's August and I don't particularly care what happens anymore or about the passage of time in general. Soon Michelle will be forced into returning to school to teach a roomful of children how not to die instead of how to do multiplication but no one in charge has of yet provided her with that particular curriculum.

in the media

Lockdown in Hell World

PRAISE FOR LUKE O'NEIL'S WELCOME TO HELL WORLD

"A vital and despairing collection of essays on modern American life."

- Longreads

"Reading... Hell World is a lot like staring deep into O'Neil's soul, and it's often a pretty dark place."

- Boston Magazine

"Stream-of-consciousness reports that detail the many reasons reasonable people have to be angry right now."

- New York Magazine

"A fever dream... It's a lot to handle, but it's great."

- InsideHook
₹1,749.47

Add to Cart

Adding to cart… The item has been added

about the bookabout

Foreshadowing a subsequent exodus, Luke O'Neil and his wife moved from the city to the suburbs just prior to the lockdown. Isolated not only by a virus but also by the alienation of a neighborhood where social distancing meant more than just geographical separation, O'Neil faced trials on numerous fronts: How to avoid potentially lethal clashes with new Republican neighbors? How to continue a working life as one America's most electric, hard-hitting commentators without the opportunity of face-to-face reporting? How to maintain his own sanity, always a frail ship, while the world as we knew it disintegrated?

These pages chronicle that struggle. In turns furious, funny and philosophical they show a writer leavening his own feelings of helplessness by conversing with others experiencing the same discomfort - a postal worker, grocery store clerk, hotel receptionist, and people with kids stuck at home or Trump supporting family members. He talks, too, with a demonstrator whose eye was blinded by a police projectile on a Black Lives Matter protest.

Shifting back and forth across a summer lost to a virus and an economic system already deeply unjust and now profoundly dysfunctional, the sense of desperation that laces together O'Neil's taut rendering serves, paradoxically, to reassure: In battling to overcome the particular obstacles they face in the pandemic, working class people are in this together.

"Luke O'Neil is like no other journalist working today, fusing original reporting with memoir and frequently-profane observational humor to create what feels like a new type of truth-telling: precise, fucked-up, infuriating, and, somehow, beautiful. ...This is what it looks like when a gifted writer finds his voice". - Hamish McKenzie, co-founder of Substack

"Tells it like it is. ...It's that honesty, along with pure writing ability, creativity, and a heavy helping of empathy, that makes Luke's writing so special". - The Alternative

"At once scathingly ironic and disarmingly sincere..." - Full Stop Magazine

"Writings on contemporary matters, from politics to music ... should be beautiful but hideous at the same time-and O'Neil scratches that itch for a remarkable 538 pages". - Dig Boston

About The Author / Editor

Photo courtesy the author space after caption Luke O'Neil has written for Esquire, New York Magazine, The Guardian, The New York Times Magazine, The Washington Post, The Atlantic, Playboy, Slate, Vice, and many other publications. He is the author of Welcome to Hell World: Dispatches from the American Dystopia.

Read An Excerpt

I want to swallow all the days ahead at once

Its March and I am a child who knows nothing and you are a child who knows nothing except that we can feel something moving in the basement and we know not to go down there. It's August and we're huddled in a besieged grocery store as terrific insects hurl themselves against the glass wearing the faces of our loved ones bearing invitations to playdates and barbecues.

It's March and I am a child who knows nothing and the idea of being isolated at home and unable to see anyone for weeks more never mind months more seems so suffocating that if I let myself envision it I feel like I'm going to collapse. Instead what I try to do is think about it one day at a time as the folks in the famous secret program which I probably will need to join after this is all over like to say. You don't have to survive and wait out the entirety of this thing all at once right now all you have to do is make it through today I told people back then when I was a child. Tomorrow will probably be the same shit and the day after that too but tomorrow isn't your problem at the moment I said but children like me are very famously idiots.

It's April and we've just moved into our new home and after over a month of quarantine I don't know if I can take my own advice from way back in March anymore. I want to swallow all the days ahead at once right now in one disgusting gulp like I'm trying to hide evidence from the police or like I'm trying to smuggle the duration of the virus onto an airplane and then I take a restless nap on the plane and shit it out after and hand it off to someone else so it’s not my problem anymore. The relief when it's no longer in your possession. I want to come out the other side. I want to get to the part where we're all like What the fuck was that all about? then we all go get egg sausage and cheese on an English muffin at Dunkins and eat them silently and very fast in a bustling unworried crowd of people whose eyes don't have poison inside of them.

It's August and I don't particularly care what happens anymore or about the passage of time in general. Soon Michelle will be forced into returning to school to teach a roomful of children how not to die instead of how to do multiplication but no one in charge has of yet provided her with that particular curriculum.

in the media