Here’s a funky little week opener that I’ve had playing on loop. It’s addictive, it turns out, to hear the word, “Yes” stated at you firmly every three seconds, reaffirming your life as it does that percussion line. Clearly, the subject of the music video agrees; turn it on ASAP and see if you can channel her imaginary-hoola-hooping energy all day.

For years now, we’ve been running along the fault lines of Uber drivers and Handy cleaners and Door Dashers and Tasking Rabbits. And finally last week, Derek Thompson at the Atlantic gave this industry the title we’ve been sniffing but not acknowledging: wealth work. As the rapid rise of companies like Lyft might indicate, it’s one of the fastest-growing professional sectors (see this chart). But it’s not as if servitude is new. It’s just that, under the direct-to-consumer model (against the old live-in staff arrangement) the people seeking the service don’t have to know their providers’ names, which is either a preservation of autonomy (workers get to have their own lives), or an easy means to exploit (workers get no benefits and miss out on the humanity of a personal relationship). Or both. At least it has a name.

While everyone’s busy reading Jia Tolentino’s book, our other favorite cultural critic, Amanda Hess, is over here dropping some lines. In a meditation on Queer Eye, she calls out the spiritual meaning imbued in the subjects’ consumerist upgrades, the soul-searching pep talk that accompanies a new West Elm couch. But is a new-furniture swoop-in what these guys need? What would be more useful, from a lifestyle perspective, is to be from the class that the Fab Five are from, where there’s enough money and time to care for yourself. Preach, Amanda.

Now that wealth is top of mind, check out this delightful graphic feature on Vox by Adam Roberts, a Snake Person* and one-percenter who wonders if retaining wealth is immoral, and has dedicated his working life to redistributing it.

*Millennial