You Can See Everything, while completely unremarkable in every way (it’s reality television), did supply me with an opportunity to lean over to my friend and whisper “this is why I left California” when, two hours into the drably staged, monotone Kabuki of fake autism (actually substance abuse and narcissism, but the most boring varieties of both), the monotone, fake-autistic Nathan Fielder marvels at the monotone, fake-autistic Elizabeth Holmes’ feigned inability to understand a simple joke, something I personally had to endure hundreds of times when dealing with this (exceedingly common) strain of Cali-poisoned “savant” whose entire pathology is that they’re just not very bright. A nice little blip of insight wrested from three hours of ketamine-assisted woolgathering I wish I never got involved with in the first place.