Of course he isn't safe.

To dust we shall return

Is this the letter where I confess to you I used to watch the Duggars? (Stay with me).

It’s true. Look, we all need a mind-numblingly insipid reality TV situation and this one was 105 times purer than my other former guilty pleasure—a show about teenagers who got unexpectedly pregnant on MTV. And while the gift of a full life has left me with far fewer hours to watch trashy TV, making my choices these days much more deliberate and dare I say good (I mean, I still enjoy a Beat Bobby Flay marathon now and then), there was a time when I could have named the Duggars in order.

I jumped the look-at-these-weird-fundies ship well before the oldest brother’s exposed criminality and even before any of the other brothers tied the knot. But I always had a soft spot for Jinger, the ~quirky~ photographer who wanted to live in a big city. So when I saw she’d left the church of her upbringing, I didn’t go so far as to request her memoir at the library, but I did donate 45 minutes of my nightly YouTube binge to an interview she gave.