Tiger King

Just as Jesus rose from the dead on Easter Sunday, so too did the spirit of Joe Exotic return from the meth-fueled fever dream from whence it came to grace our screens once again.

During these times of self-quarantine, are you choosing not to watch the cinematic masterpiece that is Netflix’s Tiger King in order to be “productive,” or “work” because you’re an “essential employee,” or maybe you’re just boycotting it because you’ve heard about the blatant animal abuse in the show?

If there’s only one thing this country can agree on right now, it’s that we’re all obsessed with Tiger King.

If you're the kind of person who likes true crime, chances are you've finished Tiger King by now.

March 2020 will undoubtedly go down in history as a turning point for mankind.

We've already explored the many, many questions Netflix's Tiger King leaves its audience to answer, like "are you really allowed to just own a tiger?" and "what is Howard's deal?" But the most pressing question Tiger King asks is if who, if anyone, are the good people here?

If you manage to make your way past coronavirus Twitter, you'll notice that people are talking about something called Tiger King. The new Netflix docuseries that follows Oklahoma-based, eccentric, openly gay tiger breeder and zookeeper Joe Exotic (not his government name) has been taking the internet by storm, and for good reason: it is the quarantine distraction we all need.