Written by: Kyle Riddle
If I may, I’d like to begin with a simple sentiment—one that captures the quiet, shared understanding we all feel after five minutes of doomscrolling.
(clears throat)
AAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!!!
(deep breath)
AAAAAAGGGGGGHHHAHAGHAGHAGHA!!
I’d call today’s news cycle a train wreck, but that would be offensive to train wrecks—at least those usually involve fewer casualties (and most trains are just hauling boxes and breakfast cereal). If your mental stability goes off the rails every time you check your phone, you’re not alone.
It feels like we’re all stuck on a sadistic game show: wake up, spin the wheel, and find out what flavor of breakdown today will serve. Depression? Anxiety? Existential dread? So many choices! No whammies, no whammies, no panic attacks, big money!
But as the old saying goes, laughter is the best medicine—and I, a totally unlicensed, self-appointed doctor of comedy, am here to prescribe your daily dose of distraction. Below are the five most common emotional spirals brought on by the news cycle, each paired with a carefully selected comedic remedy.
So, take a deep breath, hold the screaming, and let’s laugh our way through the collapse.
1. Anxiety → John Mulaney’s Netflix Specials
Let’s kick off with anxiety—America’s favorite background noise.
Personally, I’ve lived with anxiety so long it’s become my emotional screensaver. The real shock comes during those rare, disorienting moments when I don’t feel anxious. How am I supposed to function when things feel… calm?
And now, every time you open the news and see “WWIII Officially Begins,” you’re one step closer to dry-heaving into a laundry basket.
If this sounds familiar, I prescribe a triple shot of John Mulaney. Start with New in Town or Kid Gorgeous—both are tailor-made for the terminally tense. Mulaney strolls onstage in a flawless suit, then unravels like a stylish human stress ball. Whether it’s panicking over a Best Buy rewards card or accidentally triggering a prostate exam in search of anxiety meds, his elegant descent into chaos is both hilarious and deeply validating.
His version of anxiety might not match your late-night news-induced dread—but trust me, any anxiety you can laugh at, even for a second, becomes a little less powerful.
(Just don’t pick up Mulaney’s former coke habit. That’s not the kind of prescription we’re writing here.)
2. Depression → I Think You Should Leave with Tim Robinson
Let’s move on to the heavyweight champion of mental spirals: depression.
Whether it’s mild, clinical, or “I just read a single headline and need to lie down for a week,” this one hits hard. With democracy eroding, the planet broiling, AI coming for your job, and war buzzing in the background like bad hold music, it’s no surprise if your mood resembles wet concrete.
If your brain is turning into a couch pillow and emotions are bouncing off like pennies, it’s time for a short-term comedy lobotomy.
Enter: I Think You Should Leave.
This sketch show is pure chaos. It doesn’t aim to critique society or offer grand insight—it’s just a glorious, messy, absurd scream into the void. Whether it’s a guy losing it over a zipline, a holiday-themed action movie starring Santa, or someone shrieking about “a thousand plastic meatballs,” this show bypasses your frontal lobe and slaps the dopamine button directly.
There’s no deeper message, no forced sentiment. Just stupid people doing stupid things in stupid costumes. And when you’re in the pit, sometimes that’s all you need to remember laughter exists.
3. Existential Dread → The Good Place
Do you ever stare at the news and think, “What’s the point?”
Do you ever Google “meaning of life” before noon?
Do you ever get hit with a random wave of cosmic insignificance while microwaving soup?
Congratulations! You’ve unlocked existential dread.
For this particular spiral, you don’t need silliness. You need meaning—preferably delivered in the form of a high-concept sitcom starring Kristen Bell and a demon in loafers.
The Good Place is your remedy.
Despite its sitcom shell, this show dives deep into ethics, mortality, and whether anyone can truly change. But it does so with enough jokes, plot twists, and frozen yogurt to keep you from spiraling too far into the void.
Between Chidi’s indecisive stomachaches and Janet’s existential sass, this show sneaks up on you with perspective—and a surprising number of gut punches. It’s smart, it’s heartfelt, and yes, it’s still funny.
And no, this post is not sponsored by Netflix. (Although if they’re reading, I’ll accept payment in gift cards or passwords that still work.)
4. Rage Spiral → The Daily Show
Now let’s talk about anger. Not frustration. Not irritation. I mean full-body, blood-boiling rage—the kind where you watch the news and suddenly want to scream into a throw pillow until the stuffing gives out.
We’re talking about teachers assaulting students. Kids dying in pointless wars. Billionaires launching vanity rockets while millions can’t afford groceries. It’s the kind of cascade that ends with you muttering, “I could headbutt a tree right now.”
That, my friend, is a rage spiral.
The only way to manage this brand of fury is to find someone equally enraged—but with better comedic timing. That’s where The Daily Show comes in.
Whether it’s Jon Stewart cracking a coffee mug mid-rant, or Desi Lydic shrieking into a pillow live on air, this show doesn’t just call out the madness—it matches your energy. It yells with you. And then, somehow, it makes you laugh.
That catharsis is priceless. It’s not just a show—it’s group therapy with a laugh track.
5. Emotional Numbness → Parks and Recreation
Finally, we arrive at the end stage of breakdown: numbness.
This is when you’ve felt everything so intensely, for so long, that you just… stop. No joy. No sadness. No reactions at all. You’re just floating through headlines like a ghost in sweatpants.
For this final form of crisis, I recommend my ultimate comfort show: Parks and Recreation.
This ensemble comedy offers more than laughs—it’s a warm blanket of optimism. It’s rage at bureaucracy, joy in community, and absurdity in civic life—all anchored by the relentlessly sunny Leslie Knope.
Watch one episode—just one—and see if your heart stirs when Leslie builds a throne out of waffles or singlehandedly runs a children’s concert. Watch Andy Dwyer be aggressively dumb. Watch Ron Swanson eat meat with the solemnity of a priest at Mass.
If you don’t feel something after that? Well… I mean, you could always try stabbing yourself in the leg with a plastic fork. I don’t recommend it—but hey, it’s plastic. You’ll survive. And you’ll feel something.
Take Two of These and Call Me in the Morning
That concludes my highly scientific comedy treatment plan. The next time the world implodes before breakfast, consult this chart and treat your inner chaos accordingly.
And don’t worry about overdosing on laughter. In fact, I recommend it.
We’re gonna need it.

