ROCKWELL I pitched Mike some ideas, and we read it through, and he was on board with the take I had on this guy. We wanted to make him feel possibly ex-military, super masculine and kind of nonchalant, which worked in contrast to Mike’s writing in the scene.

And the incest thing, it’s really more about someone who is trying to connect with his brother and his sister through the things they value. Saxon is all about getting off, and Piper is renouncing the materialistic.

MONAGHAN The three of us originally just referred to them as “the ladies.” People have taken to referring to them as “the toxic trio,” but Mike’s original inspiration for us was “the big blonde blob” — this group of women that moves together and sort of sounds alike and looks alike. Interchangeable. Once the season starts to progress, you start to see them individuate from each other. WHITE I knew I didn’t want to do, “Here’s the short dumpy one, here’s the pretty one …” I wanted them all to be variations on the same idea when they show up. I’d been on a vacation where there were these three women who I couldn’t even tell apart until one would peel off and you’d hear the other two talking [about her].

GOGGINS The very first conversation he and I had was me asking, like, “How does Rick move through the world? Where has he been? How does he dress?” Mike said, “I don’t know.” I go, “Well, I do know.” And he said, “OK, let’s do that.”

COON Mike will do this thing where he scream-laughs at the monitor if he thinks you’re funny. We’re actors, so as soon as you know that’s happening, you become obsessed by it. “He didn’t do the scream-laugh! It’s not funny! I’m not as funny as this person!” You just spiral.

Social media is the lens for a lot of the show’s biggest bits and even plotlines. It is, just as in life, omnipresent, and so, even as the show spotlights the inherent ridiculousness of the extremely online, it also understands the way social media is a deranging accelerant of everyday problems, and thus a medium of everyday life.

These are all just a bunch of funny jokes about people who are too online, celebrities whose shallow fame exists only by way of the apps, and a contemporary American culture hypnotized by the blue light of screens.

In her book The Drama of Celebrity, the scholar Sharon Marcus argues that celebrity, as we know it, is a cultural phenomenon with three distinct authors. There’s the celebrity, who expresses themself through whatever art or product they make; there are the journalists who write about and photograph and criticize and otherwise construct the celebrity’s public image; and then there’s the public, who contribute devotion and imagination, and money, and love and hate.

There was a time when Marilyn Monroe emerged as an illusion, a trick of the light produced between herself, her studio’s massive press apparatus, and an adoring and vampiric public. Today, anyone can be an illusion like this, if at smaller scale.

The show by no means wants to redeem the industry, but, this season especially, it’s become invested in exposing the lazy nihilism that can come along with seeing the worst in people. If you run into a craven, soulless industry hack in the morning, you ran into a craven, soulless industry hack; if you run into them all day, you are the craven, soulless industry hack.

The Other Two is about identity. It’s a flimsy, fungible thing, and it’s a trap. It’s a point of pride and a point of embarrassment. There’s the real you that we all struggle to find and to express truthfully; there’s the version of yourself that you perform for the public; there’s the version of you that others create in and against their own image.