A while back, our fiction editor Emma texted me a video of a man frantically dancing while maintaining direct eye contact with me, Diya Chaudhuri, from god knows where in the universe. “This is a video my uncle sent me — without comment — from a restaurant bathroom,” she said. “Must watch with sound on.” Indeed.
This has been Emma’s Uncle: Dancing. It’s been just that and nothing more. I’m not sure how much more you want from him.