It’s not the spirituality that’s the problem — it’s the grammar of transcendence. Spiritual people don’t talk; they vibrate sentences.

This month, we turn our gaze — not upward toward greatness, but gently sideways — toward that rare and undervalued species of success: the minor triumph.

As the season of compulsory joy approaches, The Disappointment Institute would like to remind everyone that disappointment, too, has divine origins.

As the year limps toward its conclusion, The Disappointment Institute once again opens nominations for the coveted Most Disappointing Person of the Year Award — a modest recognition of extraordinary underachievement.

As tradition dictates, The Disappointment Institute gazes into the near future — not to foresee progress, but to map the contours of its inevitable letdown.

Every age produces its defining figure of disappointment. Ours, regrettably, is the Angry White Man — a creature of grievance, gadgetry, and gym membership that expired in 2018. Once, he imagined himself the protagonist of civilisation.