Olivia: The biggest lie we're taught isn't about money or success. It's that being polite will keep you safe. Today, we're exploring a book that argues the exact opposite—that sometimes, the most powerful thing you can do for your own survival is to be rude. Jackson: That is a bold claim. I'm hooked. It goes against everything we're conditioned to believe, especially the whole 'you catch more flies with honey' idea. This sounds like it’s suggesting you should just bring out a fly swatter. Olivia: Exactly. And it’s the core of the book we’re diving into today: Stay Sexy & Don't Get Murdered by Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark. Jackson: Ah, the minds behind the podcasting behemoth. I feel like you couldn't be online in the late 2010s without hearing their catchphrases. "Stay Sexy, Don't Get Murdered" became this cultural slogan. Olivia: It really did. And what's fascinating is how this book emerged from their wildly popular true-crime comedy podcast, My Favorite Murder. They essentially created a cultural phenomenon by blending humor with incredibly candid discussions on mental health and trauma, which just exploded during the peak of the true-crime podcast wave. Jackson: That "true-crime comedy" label has always been interesting to me. It's a tightrope walk, for sure. The book was a massive bestseller and highly rated, but the concept itself has definitely sparked debate. Olivia: It has, and they lean right into it. The book isn't just a collection of murder stories; it's a dual memoir about how they learned to navigate the world. And that starts with their most famous, and perhaps most important, piece of advice.

Olivia: It's a two-word philosophy that became a rallying cry for their listeners: "Fuck Politeness." Jackson: Okay, let's unpack that. It's intentionally provocative. What do they actually mean by it? Are they telling people to just be rude to everyone? Olivia: Not at all. They draw a sharp line between politeness and kindness. Kindness is genuine. It's about empathy and good intentions. Politeness, they argue, is often just a hollow social ritual, a script we follow to make others comfortable, even at our own expense. And that's where it gets dangerous. Jackson: At our own expense... I think I know where this is going. You follow the script even when your gut is screaming that something is wrong. Olivia: Precisely. And Georgia Hardstark shares this absolutely chilling personal story that makes the stakes crystal clear. It happened in 1998, right after she graduated high school. She was 19, working as a waitress, and considered herself this tough, independent, Riot Grrrl feminist. Jackson: So, not someone you'd think would be easily manipulated. Olivia: You would think. A regular customer at her restaurant, an older guy named Lawrence who was a photographer, asked to take her picture. He seemed harmless, showed her a portfolio of local scenes, and she was flattered. So she agreed. Jackson: I'm already getting a bad feeling. Olivia: Your gut is working. On the day of the shoot, he picks her up, and the first red flag hits. His car is filthy, just filled with junk. Georgia feels that prickle of unease, that "uh-oh" feeling, but she immediately starts to rationalize it. "Don't be judgmental," she tells herself. "It's just a messy car." Jackson: Wow. That's the internal negotiation right there. Arguing with your own survival instinct. Olivia: It gets worse. He drives her up to a secluded lookout point in the Santa Monica Mountains. The whole way, she's fighting this war in her head. Her intuition is screaming "DANGER," but the voice of politeness is louder, saying, "You already agreed. It would be so rude to back out now. He'll think you're a bitch." Jackson: That is so deeply relatable. The fear of being perceived as "a bitch" is such a powerful silencer. Olivia: It is. They get to this isolated spot, and he starts taking photos. She's feeling more and more uneasy. Then he asks her to take her top off. Jackson: Oh, no. There it is. The real agenda. Olivia: And in that moment, she's terrified. She's alone, in a remote location, with a man who is much older and larger than her. Every alarm bell is ringing. But she does it. She takes off her top for the photos because, in her words, she was more afraid of being rude than of what he might do to her. Jackson: That is just heartbreaking. And it's such a stark illustration of the concept. She prioritized his feelings over her own safety. Olivia: Exactly. She got through it, and he drove her back. The second she was safe in her own car, she just broke down sobbing, feeling so ashamed and angry at herself for not listening to her gut. Years later, she learned about the serial killer Rodney Alcala, who posed as a photographer in the 70s to lure, rape, and murder women. It was the same M.O. Jackson: That's horrifying. It validates her fear completely. It wasn't an overreaction; it was an accurate threat assessment. So, what's the actionable advice here? How do you actually "fuck politeness" in the moment without escalating a situation? Olivia: They offer a follow-up story that shows the principle in action. Years later, Georgia is at a bar. A male acquaintance she barely knows offers her a shot. She says no, thanks. He insists. She says no again. He goes and buys her the shot anyway and, with another guy, starts pressuring her to drink it. Jackson: Classic boundary-pushing. The old Georgia might have just taken it to be liked. Olivia: Right. But this time, she remembers the photographer. She smiles, looks both men in the eye, holds up the shot glass... and turns it upside down, pouring the drink onto the floor. Then she just says, "Well, goodnight!" and walks out. Jackson: Whoa. That's a power move. It's not aggressive, but it's an undeniable "no." It's a refusal to participate in their script. Olivia: And that's the key. It's not about starting a fight. It's about ending an interaction that someone else has made inappropriate. As they say, "They started it. They’re the dick here. You’re just fighting fire with fire." You can't care what a person who is actively disrespecting your boundaries thinks of you. Jackson: That's the hurdle, isn't it? Letting go of the need for their approval. It's a fundamental shift in whose opinion you value more: a stranger's or your own. Olivia: And that instinct to prioritize an external authority, whether it's a creepy photographer or just social pressure, is exactly what makes us vulnerable to what they call 'cults.' And they don't just mean the kind with compounds and weird robes.

Jackson: Okay, I'm intrigued by that framing. When they say 'You're in a cult, call your dad,' what kind of cults are they talking about? Olivia: They broaden the definition to include any destructive belief system that isolates you and makes you act against your own best interests. Karen Kilgariff, drawing on her background as a comedian who moved to L.A. in the 90s, talks about being fascinated and terrified by Scientology. She saw how it preyed on the hopes and insecurities of aspiring artists. But then she turns the lens on herself. Jackson: She was in a cult? Olivia: She argues she was in several. The first was the "cult of booze." For years, she believed the doctrine that drinking was essential for fun, for connection, for being an interesting person. The 'cult' told her that a night without alcohol was a boring failure. Jackson: That's a brilliant way to put it. It reframes addiction not just as a chemical dependency, but as being brainwashed by a pervasive cultural belief system. You're following a set of rules that are ultimately destroying you. Olivia: Exactly. She also talks about the "cult of perfect." Growing up in the 80s, she was indoctrinated with the belief that her worth was tied to her physical appearance. She had a mental list of all the things she needed to "fix" to be acceptable—her nose, her skin, her weight. It was a belief system that demanded constant self-scrutiny and self-hatred. Jackson: That sounds like the internal monologue of half the population scrolling through social media today. It's a cult with billions of members. So if these are the cults, what does "call your dad" mean? What if your dad is part of the problem? Olivia: That's the perfect question. "Dad" is a metaphor. It represents your anchor to reality. It's the person or people in your life who will call you on your bullshit. The ones who love you enough to tell you the truth, even when it's hard to hear. Jackson: The person who sees you're drinking the Kool-Aid and tells you to put the cup down. Olivia: Precisely. They talk about the importance of curating a small, trusted "inner circle." Karen's therapist called it the "clutch-five." These are the one to five people who have your back unconditionally. You don't take your inner-circle problems to outer-circle people, because they don't have the context and can give you terrible advice. Your inner circle is your personal board of directors. Jackson: I love that. It's about being intentional with your support system. And the "call your dad" part is about having the vulnerability to actually reach out to them when you're lost. Olivia: Yes, and Georgia shares a story that perfectly captures this. When she was 13, she went through a shoplifting phase. She felt angry and deprived and started stealing small things. One day, she gets caught stealing a cheap pair of earrings. She's taken to the back office, and they tell her to call a parent. Jackson: Oh, the dreaded call. Olivia: She knows she can't call her mom, who would be furious. So, terrified, she calls her dad. He shows up, and he's not angry. He's just...disappointed. He's crying. He pays the fine, and on the way home, he doesn't yell. He just talks to her, trying to understand. Jackson: Wow. That's a real "dad" moment. He showed up with support, not punishment. Olivia: And that was the point. His compassionate response broke the spell of her little "cult of rebellion." She realized her actions had consequences that hurt the people who loved her. She had someone to call who could pull her back to reality. That's the essence of the advice: know who your "dad" is, and have the courage to make the call when you realize you're in a cult, whether it's shoplifting, an eating disorder, or a toxic relationship. Jackson: It's so powerful because it connects the two big ideas. 'Fuck Politeness' is about trusting your gut to protect yourself from external threats. 'Call Your Dad' is about trusting your inner circle to protect you from your own internal blind spots. Olivia: You've nailed it. It's a two-part survival guide for the modern world. One is an external shield, the other is an internal compass.

Olivia: When you put it all together, the book is really a manual for building a more resilient, self-aware life. It’s about learning to advocate for yourself in a world that often encourages you not to. Jackson: It really is. They use true crime stories not for the gory details, but as case studies in human psychology and survival. And that's where they sidestep a lot of the criticism about the genre being exploitative. Their focus is almost always on the victim's perspective and what we can learn from it about setting boundaries. Olivia: And they've become more sophisticated about that over time. They acknowledge in the book that early on, they might have focused too much on what a victim could have done differently, which can sound like victim-blaming. Now, they're very clear: the only person at fault is the perpetrator. The advice is for the rest of us, the potential victims, to arm ourselves with awareness. Jackson: The ultimate takeaway for me is about active curation. You have to actively curate your mindset to "fuck politeness" when necessary. And you have to actively curate your "clutch-five" inner circle so you have someone to call. It's not passive. Safety, both emotional and physical, is something you build. Olivia: That's beautifully put. It's about taking responsibility for your own safety net. The book gives you permission to be your own fierce advocate. It’s a powerful message, and it’s delivered with so much humor and vulnerability that it feels less like a lecture and more like advice from a friend who’s been through it. Jackson: A very funny, very wise, and slightly morbid friend. So, the question for everyone listening is pretty clear: Who is in your clutch-five? Who is the "dad" you would call? It's a surprisingly difficult question to answer on the spot. Olivia: It is, and it's a vital one. We'd love to hear your thoughts on this. What are the everyday 'cults' you see around you, and how do you fight them? Join the conversation on our community channels and let us know. Jackson: It’s a conversation worth having. This book gives you the language for it. Olivia: This is Aibrary, signing off.