!!!!!!!!!SALE!!!!!!!!!

For the next 24 HOURS ONLY, you can subscribe to the Cosmopolitan Globalist for a PRICE SO LOW you'll say I'm CRAZY!

Ahem.

Over the past week, our subscription numbers have gone down, not up.

I don’t know why. This past week was great, wasn’t it? Unless you’re some huge Vivek Ramaswamy fan, I don’t know what more you could want from me. (I suspect the people who cancelled their subscriptions probably were Ramaswamy fans. That’s the most obvious explanation. But why would the kind of person who’d be so loyal to Vivek Ramaswamy that he’d cancel his subscription to a newsletter that spoke ill of the ‘vek subscribe to a newsletter by Claire Berlinski in the first place? How does that make sense?)

I’m so demoralized.

Guys! I’ve been working my heart out! I’ve woken up every morning this past week with but one goal in mind—to make you happy—and I’ve worked from dawn to dusk and well into the night every single day without rest in service of that aim. (Except the one afternoon I took off to go for a walk by the Seine with Mario Loyola, who was in town with his wife and his 16-month-old toddler, who’s really cute. That was nice.)

But I’m so down after looking at this morning’s stats that I can’t bring myself to work anymore. I mean, what’s the point? I’m doing this because I need the money. Writing and editing CG doesn’t exactly bring in a princely sum, but so long as I can see the numbers go up, however slowly, I can justify it by telling myself that if that continues, I’ll be able to pay off my credit card by 2039.

But if the numbers are going down, then I’m kidding myself about this plan, my talent, and my life. I need to quit and get a real job.¹

Part of the problem is Elon Musk. Since he took power at Twitter, the delta on our subscriber growth has plummeted. You can actually see this on the graph:

But there’s not a thing I can do about that. Dwelling on Musk’s loathsomeness won’t boost our subscriber numbers. Or to be precise, it gives them a modest boost, but that’s not a viable long-term strategy because the people who subscribe when I write about how much I hate Elon Musk aren’t the right kind of readers: As soon as they realize they’ve actually signed on for debates about how to China-proof our supply chains, they up and cancel. (Which is stupid, because if they ever gave it a moment’s thought, they’d grasp that China-proofing our supply chains would also Elon-proof our newsfeeds.)

Therefore ….

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We are having the most insane sale ever!

I love writing this newsletter! And I love my subscribers, small in number though they are—my few, my happy few, my band of brothers! I don’t want to give up yet.

Instead, I will try an experiment.

For one day—and one day only—I am running the sale of the century.

If you subscribe to the Cosmopolitan Globalist in the 24 hours after this newsletter is published—and not for one minute afterward—you will receive your first week for FREE, and after that, you will pay only TWO DOLLARS A MONTH to read all of the Cosmopolitan Globalist. And if you are not completely satisfied, I will refund your money.

That is correct. It is not a typo. ⬇️

Now, what could be fairer than that?

Again, this offer lasts only 24 hours.

And it will never be repeated.

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But why would you do something so crazy, Claire?

Because I want to know, first, whether there really are loads of people out there who would love to read CG, but just can’t afford it. If that’s the case, our price structure is wrong for our market, and I should try lowering the cost, bit by (little) bit, until I find the sweet spot on the revenue curve.

I also (I guess) want to know if no one subscribes even when I give it away. That would tell me this is never going to work, so I need to pack it up, marry some rich schmuck for his money, and spend the rest of my bitter, disappointed life earning my living the old-fashioned way. (But earning it on 600 thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets, at least.)

But most of all, I just need to see those subscriber numbers go up. I don’t care how. I don’t care if it doesn’t actually mean that I can pay my bills this month. I’m so conditioned to calibrating my mood to the gradient of our “subscriptions” graph that if it goes up, I’ll be happy. Whether or not that makes sense.

So—subscribe now. Make me happy! Make yourself happy! I guarantee you, this offer will never come around again.

And it is the best deal you will ever, ever get. On anything.

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The Paywall of Honor

Now, what about those of you who love this newsletter and earn a respectable income, yet who somehow just never get around to subscribing? Those of you who tell yourselves, “Yeah, I’d like to, but if I paid for every newsletter out there, I’d go bankrupt?” Well, you can take advantage of this cheapo offer too.

Or you could ask yourself, “Am I a man of honor?”

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For those of you who *really* love this newsletter ….

If you truly love this newsletter—if its arrival is the light of your life, if you cannot imagine how you’d go on without it; if you’re horrified by the thought that if I can’t make it work financially, I have to pack it in and work at McDonald’s—you might consider becoming a Founding Member.

In fact, if this newsletter were supported by just a handful of generous patrons of the arts, I could make it free for everyone else. Subsidizing a woman of letters is a respectable thing for a patron of taste to do: That’s how artists were subsidized during the Renaissance, after all, and no one complains about how Florence turned out.

Founding Members are entitled to a range of benefits from—well, just tell me what you want. A best man’s wedding toast? A funeral oration? A love letter so powerful it will get you out of trouble even if your wife finds panties under the sofa cushion that don’t belong to her?

It’s yours. And the newsletter, of course.

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But Claire, I want to give you even more

Seriously? Are there strings attached? Well, I shouldn’t ask questions if I don’t want to know the answer, right? Here are three ways to do it:

• Become my Patron on Patreon

• Send it by PayPal

• Send it by Zelle (You need to be enrolled in Zelle to use this. But I just enrolled, and it only took 20 seconds.)

And if none of that works, send me an email and we’ll find another way. Believe me, we’ll find a way. Nothing will stand between me and your … generosity.

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Screw the newsletter. I want to marry you.

If you’re not interested in the least in this newsletter, but you perked up at the thought that I might offer my hand in matrimony to a man of financial gravitas, here is what I propose.

First, let’s see anyone subscribes in the next 24 hours. Maybe it won’t be necessary.

Failing that, let’s see if McDonalds will employ me. If I pass that hurdle, it would be prudent for me to work for a month or two to be sure I won’t immediately get myself fired again. (I’ve kind of got a mixed record when it comes to the hospitality industry. But I’m much more mature now than I was when I waitressed at The Unphogettable—and that hoopla over such a tiny pot brownie was a total overreaction on their part.)

If, however, the worst comes to pass and I must marry a man of means to avoid living on cat food in my old age, I shall seriously entertain your proposal. If you are that man—and serious offers only, please—then do please send me, by registered mail:

1. Income, state, and capital gains tax returns dating from 2000; original or certified copies of your twenty (20) most recent pay slips and bonus payments; letter from your employer confirming your salary; your latest audited accounts (if self-employed) and your company and personal bank statements dating from 2010. All foreign bank accounts must be included, as must separately managed investment accounts.

2. Your CPA’s detailed analysis of your future earnings from employment, self-employment, royalties, dividends, interest on shares, and property rentals.

3. Certified investment/savings certificates, contract notes or cash-in statements, bank statements clearly showing receipt of funds in your or your investment company’s name, and signed letters from a chartered accountant detailing the market value of your investment portfolio. Copies of documents such as stock certificates, mutual fund statements, and bond certificates must be appended.

4. Deeds to your primary and secondary residences with mortgage loan balances and property tax receipts, current and notarized. Digital or scanned copies not acceptable. A certified copy of a sales contract may be acceptable with a signed letter from a reputable estate agent. Copies of media coverage (if applicable) may be appended as supporting evidence.

5. A grant of probate for your inheritance (with a copy of the will), which must include the assessed value of the estate. Donor’s source of wealth must be specified. (Requirements of evidence as stated above for each individual source of wealth.)

6. Signed letters from your lawyer and chartered accountant indicating value of the sale of your companies, plus two (2) copies, one notarized, of the contract of sale, plus bank statement showing proceeds.

7. An itemized list of assets valued over US$25,000, such as unusual bicycles.

8. An itemized list of liabilities such as loans, accounts payable, mortgages, credit card balances, student and car loans, and gambling debts. Do not omit obligations such as bills, past-due taxes, alimony payments, and child support.

9. Unretouched head and body shots from front, back, left, and right, taken against a plain white background, in natural light. Indicate height, weight, chest and waist size. Note distinguishing features such as freckles, moles, or visible tattoos. (Nude photos will be immediately reported to INTERPOL.)

10. Letters of recommendation: 2,500 words (double-spaced, Times New Roman, 12 pt) from your ex-wives and every ex-girlfriend you have impregnated, whether or not live issue resulted.

11. While it may be possible for you to prepare the required documents yourself, I recommend a certified public accountant review them for accuracy and completeness. Marriage is a serious commitment.

12. For obvious reasons, you must be under the age of thirty (30) or over the age of eighty-five (85). No exceptions.

Or, you know, you could also just subscribe—at the usual price.

C’mon, readers. Pay up.

1. I just looked up the entry-level job salaries at McDonald’s, and actually, that is an attractive option that’s well worth considering. Boy, that makes me feel better. If this trend continues, I could replace my salary right away at Mickey D.’s—if they’d have me—and pretty soon, I bet, if I worked hard, I could make shift manager. Then I’d be rolling in it. Also, the hours are a hell of a lot better, and since this is France, I’d get a month of paid vacation every year—a damned sight more time off than my crazy American boss ever gives me.