I want to post that Portlandia clip where Carrie and Fred are arguing that they’ve read more than the other one EVERY SINGLE DAY. (“Did you read that steampunk article on Boingboing?” “Did you read that article in Dwell about all the midcentury modern houses?” “Did you read that thing in The New Yorker last month about how golf is an analogy for marriage?” “Did you read that thing in Spin about all the festivals?” God I have it MEMORIZED!)
In other news: did you read that thing in The New Yorker about Daphne Guinness from like four months ago? I liked it, even though there were some truly ludicrous things in there:
(somehow…I doubt that)
But every time I tried to explain to J why I liked it I sounded like what I really liked was rich people.
It mostly made me think about the particular loveliness of people who devote themselves to beauty and beauty only. I read it on the beach and felt floaty and lovely and the light was all gauzy and sleepy and I loved it.
But the more I thought about it on the drive home, the weirder I felt.
And I think that’s a metaphor for reading TNYer in general.
Breathtaking pieces about people you will never meet* that leave you feeling, upon reflection, slightly scummy.
*And in a truly snobby twist, I have to point out here that I am ***actually friends!!!!!!*** with two people who have been profiled in The New Yorker and a handful of clients from my old meal delivery were mentioned in Talk of the Town pieces as well (I feel like there was an article about Fareed Zakaria, one of my most famous clients, somewhere back there, too. Probs.). The fact that I can’t not point this out is part of the particular sickness that is reading the damn mag.
PS: WordPress changed its posting settings to some ghastly new system I can’t figure out, thus what I’m now doing is publishing a post with tons of typos and then clicking on “edit” because editing a published post is the only way I can figure out how to get back to the old system that actually works. Which means if you get posts automatically in your email you will see a post with heaps of problems. Which also means you won’t see this message, since I’m adding it after the fact.
In the time it took to write this paragraph, I guarantee I could have figured out how to use the new system. Hmm. Hrumph. Off to the beach!