When you’re actually in it, the reality of the solo is, at least at first, one of total boredom. I cannot stress enough how little there is to do when you have confined yourself to the inside of a small circle of stones and sticks in a forest. But it is an instructive kind of boredom, insofar as boredom is the raw and unmediated experience of time. It is considered best practice not to have a watch, and to turn off your phone and keep it somewhere in the bottom of a bag so as to avoid the temptation to constantly check how long you’ve been out and how long you have left. And as you become untethered from your accustomed orientation in time — from always knowing what time it is, how long you have to do the thing you’re doing, when you have to stop doing it to do the next thing — you begin to glimpse a new perspective on the anxiety that arises from that orientation. Because this anxiety, which amounts to a sort of cost-benefit analysis of every passing moment, is a quintessentially modern predicament.

In this original e-book from the online magazine The Millions, Mark O’Connell, one of our funniest and most adroit young literary critics, sets out to answer these questions. He uncovers the historical context for our affinity for terrible art, tracing it back to Shakespeare and discovering the early-20th-century novelist who was dinner-party fodder for C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien. He tracks the ascendancy of a once esoteric phenomenon into the mainstream, where “what Marshall McLuhan famously referred to as the Global Village now anoints a new Global Village Idiot every other week.” He offers in-depth accounts of Rebecca Black, Tommy Wiseau, and the “Monkey Jesus”… and he probes the roots of his own obsession with terrible art. In this charming and insightful investigation into why we laugh, O’Connell not only spins a good tale, but he emerges as our leading analyst of the “so bad it’s good” phenomenon. And his discoveries may make you think twice the next time someone passes along a link to the latest, greatest “Epic Fail.”