Christianity

The Patriarchate of Jerusalem is one of the most ancient thrones of Christianity. Its prestige lies in its uninterrupted custodianship of the Holy Land, yet its political weight has traditionally been limited compared to Constantinople, Alexandria, or Moscow. In recent years, however, Jerusalem has begun to act with growing assertiveness, repositioning itself on the global Orthodox chessboard. This is not an isolated gesture. It is a coherent strategy that combines ecclesiastical maneuvering with diplomatic calculation.

A measured distance from Constantinople

For centuries, the Ecumenical Patriarchate has exercised a primacy of honor that shaped Orthodox order. Its role became visible one more time after the Ukrainian autocephaly of 2018–2019, which triggered Moscow’s rupture with the Ecumenical Patriarchate and fragmented global Orthodoxy. In this fragile landscape, Jerusalem’s refusal to show customary respect to the Ecumenical Patriarchate, such as during Patriarch Theophilos’ visit to Constantinople while the Ecumenical Patriarch was absent, carried a strong symbolic charge.

In the Orthodox world, protocol is substance and responds to centuries-old traditions and rules. Jerusalem has chosen to highlight its autonomy, presenting itself less as a subordinate throne and more as an equal player that answers primarily to its own pastoral realities.

A visible embrace of Moscow

Parallel to this distancing, the Patriarchate of Jerusalem has cultivated visible proximity with Moscow. Encounters between Patriarch Theophilos and Patriarch Kirill in international forums are carefully staged. They showcase Jerusalem as one of the few Orthodox centers willing to stand with Moscow in public, at a time when the Russian Church is cut off from Constantinople after her own decision.

The significance is twofold. First, Jerusalem gains leverage by being seen with Moscow; it becomes indispensable to those who seek to keep channels open with the Russian Church. Second, it signals to Constantinople that Jerusalem has alternatives. In a polarized Orthodox world, Jerusalem positions itself as the third pole.

Exploiting the Orthodox divide

The fracture between Constantinople and Moscow is the defining fact of the present Orthodox landscape. Since the Ukrainian question, communion has been ruptured, and every inter-Orthodox initiative has become contested ground. Jerusalem has seized this moment. By maintaining relations with Moscow and refusing to follow Constantinople’s spiritual leadership, it elevates itself into a power broker.

The “Amman initiative,” launched by Patriarch Theophilos in 2020, was an early signal. Ostensibly a fraternal gathering, it was interpreted as an attempt to create a parallel framework of Orthodox coordination. The same logic continues today since the moment Jerusalem does not merely mediate, it seeks to shape the system in ways that enhance its own centrality.

Political dimensions and secular diplomacy

This ecclesiastical strategy intersects with secular diplomacy. Patriarch Theophilos’ meeting with Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan in Istanbul, without prior coordination with Athens or Constantinople, revealed how Jerusalem leverages regional power to reinforce its own profile. For Ankara, the encounter offered a stage to project international acceptance. For Jerusalem, it was an assertion of autonomy—the ability to engage heads of state directly, without reference to traditional Orthodox hierarchies.

Such moves demonstrate the Patriarchate’s dual logic. Ecclesiastical autonomy and political visibility. Yet they also risk entangling Jerusalem in agendas that exceed its spiritual mandate. When political authorities instrumentalize ecclesiastical actors, the cost is often borne by the broader unity of the Church.

At the heart of Jerusalem’s maneuvers lies a profound redefinition of legitimacy. The Patriarchate claims that its authority flows not from subordination to Constantinople but from its continuous guardianship of the Holy Land, its role as protector of Christian presence in the Middle East, and its ability to secure survival under adverse conditions. This narrative resonates with local communities and appeals to external partners who view Jerusalem less as a hierarchical institution and more as a political-religious actor with unique assets.

By presenting itself as sui generis, Jerusalem attempts to blur the lines of canonical order. It elevates historical custodianship over primacy of honor and pastoral necessity over hierarchical protocol. This reframing is powerful, but it destabilizes the traditional equilibrium of the Orthodox system.

Jerusalem’s strategy carries immediate benefits but long-term risks. Constantinople interprets distancing as defection. Moscow views cooperation as tactical, not loyal. Regional governments value the Patriarchate’s visibility but also use it for their own agendas. In the long run, Jerusalem risks being perceived less as a bridge and more as an opportunistic actor.

The Greek dimension

Greece remains a critical backdrop. Athens has aligned itself with the Ecumenical Patriarchate, supporting Ukrainian autocephaly and standing by the Fanar, defending its historical and canonical rights. However, Jerusalem invokes Greece whenever it needs legitimacy or support, especially to protect its institutions and heritage. This selective approach exposes Athens to the maneuvers of the Patriarchate without giving it substantial influence, as Greece is projected by Jerusalem as a guarantor but not as a decision-maker.

During the Sinai crisis, the Patriarchate of Jerusalem engaged Greece in a manner that combined dependence with instrumentalization. On the surface, Athens was acknowledged as a historical guarantor of the monastery’s continuity and as the institutional shield necessary for its protection. In practice, however, the Patriarchate pursued its course with minimal coordination and little transparency toward the Greek state. This dual approach created a paradox: Greece was projected internationally as an indispensable partner, yet it was excluded from substantive influence over the management of the crisis. By invoking Greek legitimacy when useful while retaining full control of decisions, the Jerusalem Patriarchate reinforced its own position but left Athens diplomatically exposed.

The announcement of Archbishop Damianos’ resignation from St. Catherine’s Monastery in Sinai, after decades of leadership, has brought to light more than an internal monastic dispute. It has exposed a larger power struggle at the intersection of ecclesiastical diplomacy and international politics. The controversy surrounding the monastery, one of the most historic centers of Orthodoxy in the Middle East, has turned into a stage where rival patriarchates, foreign influence, and states assert their presence.

For many observers, Damianos’ departure was not simply the end of an era but the culmination of months of escalating tension between the Monastery, the Patriarchate of Jerusalem, and wider Orthodox dynamics influenced by Moscow.

Jerusalem’s contested claims

At the heart of the dispute lies the claim of the Patriarchate of Jerusalem over Sinai. In its official response, Jerusalem characterized Damianos’ statements as “anti-ecclesiastical” and questioned even the authorship of his lengthy announcement, suggesting manipulation by third parties. Ecclesiastical circles interpret this as a deliberate strategy of delegitimization, portraying the elderly Archbishop as incapable of independent action in order to undermine his authority.

Beyond rhetoric, Jerusalem has consistently sought to present Sinai as canonically dependent on its patriarchal throne, despite the historic sigillion of Patriarch Gabriel IV in 1782, which sealed the monastery’s autonomy. For Damianos and his supporters, such attempts constitute ecclesiastical encroachment and a direct violation of centuries-old canonical order.

Moscow’s shadow over Sinai

Damianos’ final announcement did not spare Moscow either. He accused the Russian Church of fueling division within Orthodoxy and exploiting internal fissures of the Sinai brotherhood. According to his account, networks and organizations aligned with Russian influence attempted to capitalize on the crisis, promoting narratives foreign to Orthodox theology and tradition.

For ecclesiastical diplomacy analysts, this dimension is crucial. It situates the Sinai crisis within the broader confrontation between Constantinople and Moscow over primacy in the Orthodox world, extending the arena of contestation from Ukraine to the deserts of Sinai. The monastery thus becomes more than a spiritual center; it is a geopolitical outpost in the struggle for influence.

Athens and Cairo as indispensable actors

The role of Greece has emerged as pivotal. Damianos repeatedly underlined that without the active involvement of Athens, the monastery would have faced existential threats. The recent law 5224/2025, combined with constitutional guarantees, was presented as a shield of protection for the monastery’s legal and institutional identity.

At the same time, Egypt remains a decisive interlocutor. The court decision of Ismailia in May 2025 that challenged elements of the monastery’s status placed the issue squarely within the Egyptian legal framework. Damianos himself acknowledged that any durable solution requires a tripartite understanding between Athens, Cairo, and the monastery’s leadership.

This triangular dynamic underscores that the future of Sinai cannot be separated from Greek–Egyptian relations, a strategic partnership already central in the Eastern Mediterranean. The monastery, therefore, becomes both a symbol and a test of bilateral trust.

Ecclesiastical diplomacy at a crossroads

The broader Orthodox world has also been drawn into the crisis. Several patriarchates expressed support for Sinai, including Constantinople, Bulgaria, Cyprus, and Serbia, while Jerusalem remained isolated in its claims. The silence of Moscow, combined with its indirect involvement, reinforced perceptions that Sinai has become a flashpoint in the Orthodox fragmentation that Russia has often been accused of exacerbating.

For Constantinople, Sinai’s autonomy is not negotiable. For Jerusalem, asserting control is both a matter of prestige and regional influence. For Moscow, exploiting divisions serves its wider strategy. And for Athens, safeguarding the monastery is part of its cultural diplomacy and historical responsibility toward the Eastern Christian heritage.

A power game with lasting implications

The resignation of Damianos closes a personal chapter but opens a much larger one. The crisis of Sinai illustrates how monastic autonomy, canonical tradition, and national diplomacy intersect. What appears as an ecclesiastical quarrel is, in fact, a power game of influence that involves patriarchates, states, and international alignments.

The outcome of the succession process, and whether a unified brotherhood can emerge, will determine not only the monastery’s internal cohesion but also the credibility of Greek–Egyptian partnership and the balance within Orthodoxy.

For analysts of ecclesiastical diplomacy, Sinai has become a microcosm of the wider struggle shaping the Orthodox world: the tension between autonomy and control, between local tradition and geopolitical leverage. The desert of Sinai, where Moses once received the Law, is today a battlefield of influence where spiritual heritage collides with political ambition.

Pete Hegseth, widely considered the least qualified Defense secretary in American history, is hardly anyone’s version of the ideal Christian husband and father.

Only 45 years old, he’s been married three times.

His first marriage — to his high school sweetheart — lasted a mere four years, deteriorating after Hegseth admitted to multiple extramarital affairs.

A couple of years later, he married his second wife, with whom he had three children. During that marriage, he fathered a child with a Fox News producer who eventually became his third wife.

He paid off a woman who accused him of sexual assault (he denies the assault). He routinely passed out drunk at family gatherings and misbehaved in public when inebriated, according to numerous witnesses. His own mother once accused him of being “an abuser of women,” though she later retracted her claims when Hegseth was facing Senate confirmation.

Still, the Senate’s Republican majority, cowed by President Trump, confirmed his appointment. Hegseth has two qualities that Trump prizes above all others. He is blindly loyal to the president, and he looks good on TV.

After his installation, Hegseth proceeded to fire top military brass who happened to be Black or women or both. He has restored the names of Confederate generals to Army bases (Bragg and Benning). His petty “anti-woke” crusade led him to strip the name of the assassinated gay rights leader Harvey Milk, a former Naval officer who served honorably, from a Navy ship. And he has considered doing the same to a ship named in honor of the abolitionist and Civil War hero Harriet Tubman. He has said that women do not belong in combat roles, and has kicked out transgender soldiers, cruelly stripping them of the pensions they earned for their service.

In March, he shared classified information about an impending American airstrike in Yemen on an unsecured Signal group chat that included his wife, on purpose, and the editor of the Atlantic, by accident.

He is, in short, the least serious man ever to lead this nation’s armed forces.

As if all that weren’t dispiriting enough, Hegseth is now in bed (metaphorically) with a crusading Christian nationalist.

Earlier this month, Hegseth made waves when he reposted on social media a CNN interview with Douglas Wilson, the pastor and theocrat who is working hard to turn the clock back on the rights of every American who is not white, Christian and male.

In the interview, Wilson expounded on his patriarchal, misogynistic, authoritarian and homophobic views.

Women, he said, should serve as “chief executive of the home” and should not have the right to vote. (Their men can do that for them.) Gay marriage and gay sex should be outlawed once again. “We know that sodomy is worse than slavery by how God responds to it,” he told CNN’s Pamela Brown. (Slavery is “unbiblical,” he avowed, though he did bizarrely defend it once, writing in 1990 a pamphlet that “slavery produced in the South a genuine affection between the races that we believe we can say has never existed in any nation before the War or since.”)

When a new outpost of his church opened in Washington, D.C ., in July, Hegseth and his family were among the worshippers. CNN described Hegseth’s presence as “a major achievement” for Wilson.

“All of Christ for All of Life,” wrote Hegseth as he endorsed and reposted the interview. That is the motto of Wilson’s expanding universe, which includes his Christ Church in Moscow, Idaho, the center of his Communion of Reformed Evangelical Churches, a network of more than 100 churches on four continents, parochial schools, a college, a publishing house and media platforms. “All of Christ for All of Life” is a shorthand for the belief that Christian doctrines should shape every part of life — including government, culture and education.

Wilson is a prolific author of books with titles such as “Her Hand in Marriage,” “Federal Husband,” and “Reforming Marriage.” His book “Fidelity” teaches “what it means to be a one-woman man.” Doubtful it has crossed Hegseth’s desk.

“God hates divorce,” writes Wilson in one of his books.

Given the way sexual pleasure is celebrated in the Old and New Testaments, Wilson has a peculiarly dim view of sex. I mean, how many weddings have been graced with recitations from the Song of Solomon, with its thinly disguised allusions to pleasurable sexual intimacy? (“Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth! For your love is better than wine.”)

Wilson’s world is considerably less sensual.

“A man penetrates, conquers, colonizes, plants,” he writes in “Fidelity.” “A woman receives, surrenders, accepts.” Mutual sexual pleasure seems out of the question: “The sexual act cannot be made into an egalitarian pleasuring party.” Ugh.

There is nothing particularly new here; Wilson’s ideology is just another version of patriarchal figures using religion to fight back against the equality movements of the late 19th and 20th centuries. They are basically the hatemongers of the Westboro Baptist Church dressed up in respectable clothing.

“Some people may conflate Christian nationalism and Christianity because they both use the symbols and language of Christianity, such as a Bible, a cross and worship songs,” says the group Christians Against Christian Nationalism on its website. “But Christian nationalism uses the veneer of Christianity to advance its own aims — to point to a political figure, party or ideology instead of Jesus.”

What you have in people like Hegseth and Wilson are authoritarian men who hide behind their religion to execute the most unchristian of agendas.

God may hate divorce, but from my reading of the Bible, God hates hypocrisy even more.

Bluesky: @rabcarian
Threads: @rabcarian

“South Park” wasted no time putting its very existence on the line, again. On Wednesday, the Comedy Central series kicked off its 27th season with a searing indictment of President Trump and its network’s parent company, Paramount. Paramount recently paid the president $16 million toward his future library rather than fighting a lawsuit Trump brought against “60 Minutes” (Paramount is also a parent company of CBS).

It was also announced last week that “The Late Show With Stephen Colbert,” which airs on Paramount-owned CBS, was being canceled. Colbert is one of the most prominent political satirists in America, and from his pulpit has been a relentless critic of MAGA policy and Trump. Like the payout over the “60 Minutes” lawsuit, Colbert’s cancellation comes just as Paramount is seeking federal approval of an $8-billion merger with Skydance Media.

“South Park” couldn’t have returned at a better time.

The episode, titled “Sermon on the Mount,” opens with Cartman discovering his favorite radio station, NPR, has been canceled. Making fun of its wokeness was part of his identity, and now he’s lost and angry. “The government can’t cancel a show!” he laments before dropping a self-referential joke about “South Park’s” own vulnerability. “I mean, what show are they going to cancel next?”

Paramount might be tempted to cancel “South Park” after Wednesday night’s damning premiere, when the show repeatedly lampooned the company’s costly capitulation to Trump. And Paramount earlier this week announced a $1.5 billion deal with “South Park” creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone for 14 new movies, six more seasons and streaming rights on Paramount+ for the next five years.

The new season continues to plumb the horrifying depths of 2025 when Cartman also finds that his school is demanding students accept the presence of Jesus, literally. Cartman is called to the principal’s office for not letting Jesus sit with his group in the cafeteria at lunch, even though there were no empty seats. There’s always room for the Lord, he’s told.

The townspeople become angry that they voted in a guy who they thought would target other people — like immigrants. They don’t want religion forced on their kids at school, but newscasts make their plight seem hopeless. “More protests today as the president pushes harder for Christianity in our schools. The president stated earlier today that the spirit of Jesus is important to our country and he will sue anyone who doesn’t agree with him.”

The truly wicked satire begins when they cut to Trump at the White House. He’s the only character whose head is an actual photo rather than a drawing, and the president’s image is deftly manipulated to reflect the many faces of the real man: pouting, grimacing, smiling, leering and pouting, again.

He repeatedly demands that everyone relax while he threatens to destroy them. He argues with Canada’s prime minister over tariffs (“You don’t want me to bomb you like I did Iraq,” says Trump. “I thought you just bombed Iran,” the PM replies. “Iran. Iraq. What the hell’s the difference?”). Trump also lies naked in bed with Satan, revealing his minuscule manhood. Disgusted, the devil rebuffs the president’s advances and says, “I can’t even see anything, it’s so small.”

Satan is also perturbed that some rando on Insta keeps commenting about sex trafficker Jeffrey Epstein’s client list.

“Epstein, are we still talking about that?” Trump says.

“Are you on the list or not?” Satan asks. “It’s weird that when it comes up you just keep telling everyone to relax.”

Then we jump to a segment of “60 Minutes” where the beleaguered show’s hosts mumble in terror for fear of another lawsuit as the show’s signature stopwatch sound is set to the image of a ticking time bomb. They refer to the president as “a great man” who “is probably watching” before cutting to their reporter who is covering the protests against Trump in South Park, Colorado.

Jesus touches down to address his flock under the guise of fulfilling Trump’s wish to bring Christianity back into public schools. But he’s really there to warn the crowd, and does so in a whisper. “I didn’t want to come back and be in the school, but I had to because it was part of a lawsuit and the agreement with Paramount.”

“The president’s suing you?” a protester asks.

Jesus, through clenched teeth, explains: “The guy can do what he wants now that someone backed down. … You guys see what’s happened to CBS? Well, guess who owns CBS? Paramount! You really want to end up like Colbert? … All of you, shut the f— up or South Park is over!”

The town ends up being sued by Trump, and they, like Paramount, cave. They pay him off, but are also required to sing his praises as part of the settlement.

The episode ends with a pro-Trump ad by the town. It’s a realistic deepfake video of the president trekking through the desert heat in a show of loyalty to his supporters. He strips naked and once again we’re reminded that it’s not just his hands that are small.

That wail you just heard? It’s coming from the White House. A new lawsuit is born.

Of all the pop hits vying to become the song of the summer, Alex Warren’s “Ordinary” might be the most improbable: A stark and brooding ballad full of lurid Christian imagery — “Shatter me with your touch / Oh Lord, return me to dust,” goes one line — it’s about a guy seeking the kind of sexual-spiritual fulfillment not typically found on the beach or at a barbecue.

Yet the song, which has more than 720 million streams on Spotify, just logged its sixth week since early June atop Billboard’s Hot 100 — more than a month longer at No. 1 than Sabrina Carpenter’s “Manchild,” to name one of the sunnier tunes soundtracking the season. (Among Warren’s other competitors: Drake, who posted an image of the current chart on Instagram on Monday showing his song “What Did I Miss?” at No. 2 behind Warren’s hit. “I’m taking that soon don’t worry,” the rapper wrote.)

“Ordinary’s” somber tone is all the more striking given that Warren — whose father died when he was 9 and who grew up in Carlsbad with a single mother he’s described as an abusive alcoholic — first made a name for himself as a founding member of Hype House, the early-2020s conclave of TikTokers known for beaming out goofy bite-size content from a rented mansion in Los Angeles. Half a decade later, Warren is still a faithful user of his TikTok account (with its 18.8 million followers), though these days he’s mostly driving attention — often with the help of his wife, fellow influencer Kouvr Annon — to his music, which combines the moody theatrics of early Sam Smith with the highly buffed textures of Imagine Dragons.

On Friday, Warren will release his debut LP, “You’ll Be Alright, Kid,” featuring guest appearances by Blackpink’s Rosé and by Jelly Roll, who brought Warren to the stage at April’s Stagecoach festival to sing “Ordinary” and to premiere their duet “Bloodline.” Warren, 24, discussed his journey during a recent trip to L.A. from his new home in Nashville, where he lives not far from Jelly Roll and Teddy Swims. “I was just texting Teddy,” Warren says as we sit down. “I got off tour and immediately was like, ‘Oh, I want to buy a go-kart.’ Teddy FaceTimes me, he goes, ‘You a—hole. I’m trying to buy a go-kart right now too.’ Apparently, I bought the last go-kart in Tennessee.” These are excerpts from our conversation.

“Ordinary” is clearly drawing on your identity as a Christian. Yet there’s something almost sacrilegious about the song.
I get that criticism a lot.

To me it’s what makes the song interesting — the erotic energy in a line like “You got me kissing the ground of your sanctuary.”
I’m worshiping my wife in a way — she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You can’t just write a song like that and be like, “Oh, baby, you’re my everything.” Everyone’s already done “You’re my world,” you know? I wanted to do something different — almost Hozier-esque. I wrote into it being like, I really love my wife, and I have a relationship with God — that’s something I can compare it to.

As the song has gone out, I’ve heard a lot of Christians’ opinions on it, and some people are like, “F— this guy.” There’s also so many people who think it’s a super die-hard Christian song and don’t like it either. I have to be OK with both sides hating me.

You’ve led a peculiar life, which obviously lends context to your music for anyone who knows the details. Yet “Ordinary” is big enough now that many listeners — maybe most listeners — are hearing it without knowing anything about you.
This new song I’ve been teasing [“Eternity”] is about grief, and people are like, “I can’t wait to play it at my wedding.” It’s cool that people are making it their own. It reminds me of Lewis Capaldi’s “Someone You Loved,” where people were like, “Oh my God, this is a breakup record.” No, he wrote it about his grandma.

Are you a Capaldi fan?
I love Lewis. I don’t look like a Justin Bieber/Shawn Mendes traditional pop star, but it’s cool because Lewis kind of made it popular to not give a f—. Lewis and Ed [Sheeran], I would say — I mean, I’ve seen Ed’s closet, and it’s just nine white Prada T-shirts.

You have an unusual voice.
Thank you — I think?

It’s deeper than most pop voices right now. Does it seem unusual to you?
No. I asked my wife, “Do I have a basic voice?” She was like, “What are you talking about?” I was like, “I live with this voice, and I think it just sounds like every other bitch.” But I’m my No. 1 hater.

I went back and looked at the series Netflix made about Hype House.
I’m so sorry.

There’s some significant fluctuations in your weight, and I was wondering how working in a visual field from a pretty young age shaped your ideas about eating and exercise.
When I started making money, I didn’t know what to do with it and I just used DoorDash every second I could. As time went on, especially in Hype House, you have so many people’s opinions and everyone’s pointing out your flaws, and the weight was definitely one of them. After that I was like, “OK, how do I fix this?” I’m 24 now — I was 22, 21 at the time, and I was like, “I should be in the best shape of my life.”

But it definitely does take a toll on you. Even now, if you go look at my TikTok comments, thousands of people are loving me. You go on Twitter, the first 400 comments are like, “He’s so ugly,” “His nose is crooked,” all these things. It hits a point where you have a thousand people loving you, but those two people not — you’re like, “Wait, are they the ones telling me the truth? Is everyone else just gassing me up?”

Kind of bleak.
It’s such a strange career. I have the Kids’ Choice Awards on Saturday, and I’m like, “Should I be eating this the next few days?”

Would you say you’re in a good place in terms of how you think about your physical appearance?
Looking in the mirror, probably not. But when it comes to having to approve a photo, I don’t give a s—. I’ll approve whatever, double chin and all.

Is that true?
Truly, I don’t mind, because I don’t think people are watching my videos for my attractiveness. That being said, if I was lighter, I think I’d be happier looking at myself. But at the same time, I don’t care because these songs to me are more about what they’re about and less about how I look. Also, it gives me some leeway if someone catches me lacking at In-N-Out.

Warren’s song “Ordinary” now has more than 720 million streams on Spotify and has just logged its sixth week since early June atop Billboard’s Hot 100.

(Ethan Benavidez / For The Times)

You’ve said you don’t really drink or do drugs but that you get drunk once a year. What would be the occasion?
I just got drunk with Ed Sheeran — I drank two Modelos and I got put on my ass. This was at Santa’s Pub [in Nashville] — me, Noah Kahan and Ed Sheeran. They had just played something, and Ed was like, “Do you want a drink?” I was like, “If I’m getting drunk this year, it’s getting drunk with Ed Sheeran.” So he gave me a Modelo, and I was like, “Whoa, I’m feeling this.” He’s like, “OK, dude, I’m on my 11th.” He hands me a second one, and my wife had to drive me home.

So I’ve been getting a little loose with it. But it’s always beer — I don’t really drink any hard stuff. Nothing against it, I’ve just always preferred Diet Coke. I wish I liked alcohol.

I mean, you can cultivate this. It’s easy to do.
I’ve been trying. I had a sip of my friend’s old fashioned. I thought it was interesting — sugary, but I liked it.

Your song “The Outside” on this new record talks about the illusory nature of happiness and success.
I went into it wanting to write about the things that people go through to turn to God or another power or something to get out of their own heads. I wanted to depict people finding a sense of purpose.

“Hollywood wasn’t all that she thought / City of Angels but her wings got caught / She got high enough to think she met God.”
You move to L.A. to pursue a dream and you see God after doing a hallucinogenic — that’s referencing a friend of mine who’s now a Christian buff who did ayahuasca. The other [verse] is about health care — watching my friends who don’t have it because it’s so expensive.

“‘It’s just stress,’ so the doctor says / His young heart’s beating out of his chest / Student loans and medical debt.”
The Luigi Mangione case happened around the time we wrote that record.

Luigi was in your head as you were writing?
That second verse is literally about Luigi Mangione. Not to get political, but the things that I feel are necessary in life — you have to pay for it, and it causes people to turn to something like God. The song ends with me being like, “I talk to my dad in the sky, hoping he talks to me back.” That song means a lot to me.

Your music is extremely tidy, which stands in contrast to the singer-songwriter mode of the Zach Bryans —
And the Noah Kahans, where they’re flat in some parts and it doesn’t matter because the emotion’s there.

Why is your instinct as a musician to go for something neater?
Because I don’t have the luxury of being able to make what some people view as mistakes. Coming from TikTok to music, I feel like it needs to be neat — it needs to be, “Oh my God, this guy can do this.” The next album I’m working on, it’s more rugged. I’m finding different parts of my voice. I’ve been listening to a lot of older music too, which has been really good.

Such as?
Hall & Oates — dude, “Rich Girl”? Billy Joel too.

Is there still a Hype House group chat?
I have a group chat with not all of them but the ones that — I’m not gonna name-drop them, but the ones getting popular with music. It was formative years in my life — my college experience, I guess. We’re able to look back on it and have a moment of, like, “That sucked, but it was also awesome.”

Would people in the house have called that you and Addison Rae would be the ones to break out as musicians?
No, I don’t think so — especially not me. Maybe Addison — Addison has always been cool. Everyone loved Addison, even in the house, and she’s always been so kind. Even to this day, she’s a good friend of mine. But no one would have guessed me. I don’t think anyone liked me.

In the house?
Just in general. The Netflix show — a lot of it was fake, but looking at that, I feel like I’m such a better person now.

“The next album I’m working on, it’s more rugged,” says Warren, whose debut LP “You’ll Be Alright, Kid” comes out Friday. “I’m finding different parts of my voice.”

(Ethan Benavidez / For The Times)

Are you glad that “Ordinary” happened after the influencer moment in your life — that there’s a bit of separation?
I started this in 2020, 2021 — I put out my first song then, and I was still an influencer, vlogging, doing all those things. Everyone’s like, “He came out of nowhere,” and I’m like, I’ve been doing this for five years.

But nobody cared until well after your time as an influencer — which might be a good thing, right? I’m not sure the overlap served Lil Huddy. In a weird way, you might’ve gotten lucky.
I think about that often. I made videos with my wife — I never really made videos with the content house — and those videos were successful in their own right. I think a lot of my fans today were watching me at that time, but not for the Hype House. Actually, no, that’s not true.

It’s hard to generalize about the audience for a song this big.
All I do is put my head down and promote the records. I’m not paying attention to the scope of things.

Of course you’re checking the numbers.
I’m not understanding the scope besides the numbers. My monthly listeners [on Spotify], someone told me it was 50-something million — that’s sick. But I can’t contextualize that. If I’m walking down the street, how many people have heard the song and how many people know who I am? I know the song is big, but I’m under the assumption that the record’s bigger than I am.

That seems true.
OK, so what does that mean? I can compare it to a Lola Young, or is it a Benson Boone? I think that’s two separate things right now. Also, I don’t know the age demographic. If I walk into a bingo night, are they gonna know who I am?

A bingo night?
You know what I’m saying. The song is No. 1 on Hot AC — that’s adult contemporary. Is it someone’s mom? I don’t know who’s listening to the record. But I write songs about people passing away, and most people — no matter rich, poor, whatever — it’s typically gonna be your 40-and-up who are gonna relate to that record. Kids don’t necessarily deal with loss the same way.

Is it weird to think that a significant portion of your audience is people twice your age?
No, that’s f—ing rad to me — the older audience is the hardest to grab. I think it’s safe to say that most people judge notoriety on whether their mom knows who they are, right? If that’s where I start, that’s cool.