McSweeney's List (19 August 2026)

Out for coffee with a friend last week, her phone rang. They hardly ever ring anymore; often there's a text to set up a call, or a string of intermittent texts over days that replace phone calls entirely. This time though, it rang, doing what phones were meant to do, and, crazy as it may sound, she picked up. A few small friendly phrases were traded, and then she laughed and said “never free; sometimes available, though!”. She was chipper as she said it, but the statement felt ground shifting.

I've of course heard iterations of this before. Colleagues have said it to me off-handedly, and at least one has told me I should use the phrase myself. It seemed pedantic though, and unimportant; a thought experiment with no real purpose. However, when I heard my friend say it, there was joyful power in her response.

On the surface, it's almost a joke: your time isn't free, but you can be available. That doesn't mean that you're expecting trade for your time, nor does it mean that a cash payment would secure your time: if a boss asks for overtime, you still aren't necessarily available to take it on, regardless of the bonus pay. Beyond that though, it reminds others – and yourself – that your time is valuable, and you get to choose what you're willing to trade it for.

In the 1980s, the fax machine was going to become a revolutionary time saver. Paperwork would pop back and forth between offices, over oceans, and expedite everything. It would crank up efficiency so high that analysts anticipated shortened work weeks. That never came to pass, of course. Instead, expectations went up, work loads got bigger, and the economy trucked on, leaving workers with whiplash.

In the 90s, email was going to save the workers. Who needs paper when the message can zap across the telephone lines? Things would be accomplished so much faster! It was the kind of innovation that was destined to give us a four day work week. As you well know, it didn't. Instead, it created a never ending work day, because people are always available by email. It's just a tiny note asking for one small thing, after all. What's the harm in checking while you're at dinner with your family? Oh, the thing they asked for is so simple, why not do it on your off hours, and have one less thing on your plate in the morning?

And thus we went, slip-sliding down that slope, until off-hour emails became the norm. The plate never got empty, it just kept getting heaped upon. In 2024 Australia passed a law making it legal to ignore off-hour work texts (I.e. you can't be punished at work for leaving your job at the office). No provinces have such a law yet, (Ontario mandates that companies with more than 25 employees have a policy creating boundaries about such things), but it seems inevitable.

As AI looms large over the modern workforce, we’re hearing the same rhetoric, and I expect the same outcome: promises of less work spiralling into a never-ending work day. It becomes more clear with every technological advance that we are the ones who must create our own boundaries, and decide our own availability.

It's not only work, of course. We all have friends (or are the friends…I've definitely been that person) who heard what you had planned, and then started a campaign to convince you to ditch those plans and join their plans. They list the benefits of their plans, goading your FOMO, reminding you that you haven't seen them in ages, and that you're always doing other things…it's a combination of appealing to your sense of fun, with a heavy side of guilt trip.

Heaven forbid that the plans you had on deck were a book and some delicious soup (or mushrooms and Tetris, whatever your bag is). In that case, do you even have plans? And the truth is, yes, you do. You don't have to have outside plans or people plans to have been looking forward to something all week, nor for it to be absolutely fulfilling. The workaholics and overachievers might perceive this as nothing, but some of us work pretty dang hard to get to our quiet time, and it's okay if not everyone understands that. What it proves, is that it's incumbent upon each of us to protect the time we intentionally create, regardless of what we choose to do with it.

People – professionally and personally – will try to get more from you. That doesn't even mean their intentions are bad; it can simply mean they want more hang time because they dig you, or that you’ll make this party less weird for them, or they only trust your opinion on a shopping trip. It can also mean that your boss wants you to work on your off hours to avoid paying you overtime (and you are worth the money, you Busy Bee). Even a demanding boss will usually ease up when he hears that you can't stay late because your kid has a recital, or you have show tickets, or dinner reservations. My point is, it shouldn't matter.

The recital carries familial responsibility, the dinner and a show have financial impact, and those are readily accepted value metrics. I really want to finish reading this book tonight isn't given the same leniency, and it should be. In this one weird life we each get, who are we to allow other people to dictate how we spend our time? When we come to the end of our line and wish we had more days ahead, the bosses won't be there to hear our complaints. The party people we let steal us away from our book won't be there to hear our laments, and will never understand that we meant to spend our time differently. To boot, they don't deserve our blame: we are responsible for our own satisfaction.

We must protect our time from the vampires of the business world, and from the things we think the cool kids are doing. We have to step into our role as the arbiters of how we spend our time, and how and when it's really necessary to apologize for doing something else instead of what we're being baited to do. To do that, we must face the fact that we won't always be liked for our choices, but that the blade of mortality hangs over each of us, and will not take a raincheck. We have to remember that in the end, we can make ourselves available, but we can never be free.

PUNK IT UP

Blue Skies Turn Black presents The Undead, (featuring Bobby Steele, original guitarist of The Misfits), with Stormtrooper (featuring former members of UK Subs, Alternative TV, Chelsea), and Young Blades.

Special offer! Tickets are buy one get one free with proof of purchase of your Warped Tour ticket.

WHAT: The Undead

WHERE: Foufounes Electriques, 87 St. Catherine St. E., Montreal, H2X 1K5

WHEN: Friday, August 21, Doors @ 930 PM, Show @ 10 PM

METRO: Place-des-Arts (Green)

TICKETS: Universe

INTENTIONAL LISTENING

Habitat Sonore presents it's 2026 summer programming including album 𝘈 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘚𝘶𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦 by Arlo Parks, an artist who has made a notable impact on the scene with her distinct blend of raw lyrical self-expression and vivid vocal melody.

Ambiguous Desire is Arlo Parks’ third album, and it’s her most confident and experimental to date. Live band sessions are supplanted for modular synths, Ableton plugins and samplers that channel the frenetic, vibrant spaces she was immersed in, all while spotlighting the acclaimed poetry and lyricism she’s beloved for.

This confident and experimental album is yours to discover, exclusively in Habitat Sonore!

WHAT: Habitat Sonore - Ambiguous Desire by Arlo Parks

WHERE: PHI, 407 Rue Saint-Pierre, Montréal, QC H2Y 2M3·

WHEN: Friday, August 21 @ 12 PM, Saturday, August 22 & Sunday August 23 @ 11 AM

METRO: Square Victoria - OACI (Orange)

TICKETS: PHI

DO SOMETHING WEIRD

Run the Gambit of 100 Zombies!

That's the whole description on the events page, which is really underselling it. It says they're looking for 100 volunteers, ostensibly to dress up as zombies and hit the streets. Cities have these zombie runs (how fast can a zombie really run?), and they're a win for using free will absurdly. Get out your makeup, tear some clothes, and get ready to walk weird. Or, bring your camera and experience some of the strangest people watching you can imagine. Whatever you choose, don't panic when you see the zombies on the terrace later.

WHAT: The Zombie Run

WHERE: Jeanne Mance Park, 4422 Esplanade Ave., Montreal, H2W 1T2

WHEN: Saturday, August 22, 2 PM - 5 PM

METRO: Mont-Royal (Orange)

DETAILS: Facebook

NOISES IN THE NIGHT

Montreal like you’ve never experienced it before…

Haunted Montreal's Haunted Mountain is a spooky, lantern-lit Ghost Walk up the slopes of Mount Royal. Beginning in Montreal’s Plateau neighborhood, the ramble visits various haunted sites on the mountain, including several locations where ghosts have actually been sighted.

A theatrical guide (a professional actor and storyteller) will regale guests with ghost stories, mysteries and legends about Mount Royal, including haunted hospitals, abandoned castles, cemeteries teeming with undead spirits, and all sorts of paranormal activities on the mountain. Visitors will learn about the place of Mount Royal in Montreal’s history and lore, including the legend of the cross, the ghost of l’Esplanade Street, the child-victims of the Alan Memorial Institute’s brainwashing experiments, and the tragic tale of Jack McLean and the Haunted Funicular.

Guests will also visit Simon McTavish’s forgotten tomb, recently disturbed by archaeologists digging into the mountain where his earthly remains lie. The angry fur baron’s ghost is known to terrify people – by tobogganing at high speeds down the slopes of the mountain – in his own coffin!

Haunted Mountain aims to satisfy a taste for local history, spine-tingling ghost stories and an unforgettable ramble on the slopes of Mount Royal! Sturdy shoes and a flashlight are recommended. The Haunted Mountain Ghost Walk begins at Place Fletcher's Field. Guests are advised to wear sturdy walking shoes and to bring a flashlight and a camera. The tour is approximately 90 minutes and finishes at the top of Peel Street and Pine Avenue. Please be ready to depart from the ‘Fly at least 10 minutes before the tour starts. For those wishing to have a drink before the tour, please arrive even earlier.