The amount of content a rational person can ingest in one week, while retaining any of it, can be based, in my opinion (and God knows my opinions have less weight than a stepped on Nilla wafer) on how up to date they are on their Economist and New Yorker subscriptions.
The Economist, thank the Unmoved Mover, is way hard newsy and thus I can enjoy it without obsessing over where clients should be placed. “Oh man there’s a story on another third world mud puddle’s new Dictator’s obsession with Peeps; he used all the UN aid he was getting for Peeps! And now the people are starving… That new Ford model we rep loves peeps; call the fucking editor!” I can read this magazine objectively and for pleasure.
The New Yorker though, I dunno I oscillate in levels of indulgence in its literary porn, while still wishing Briefly Noted would’ve covered more than a couple of books..It’s still pleasure but how can I keep up with all their content?
Those mags come fast man, and who’s got the time for leisure reading? “Fucking Peeps are trending in that dictators empire of malaria and your sitting here fucking reading for fun.”
How can two of the best weekly mags in the world start to feel like constant assaulting reminders of my tardiness? On my cognitive abilities to pretend I can live the fantasy of the literary romantic. Who can keep up with these? Rich people who don’t have to account to anyone I suppose. Anyway I read em both, a bit behind but I keep on em best I can.
I was musing about my old subculture recently:
The best shows I saw as a kid were the LES Stitches opening for The Queers at Coney Island High in 1996, Sick Of It All and Rancid in 1994 at the Limelight, The LES Stitches and Bouncing Souls at Coney Island High in 1996, NOFX at Coney Island High in 1996, The Pietasters at the NYU auditorium in 1995, Lagwagon at CIH in 96 as well, man.. All those bands at Tramps and The Wetlands as well.
ABC Norio was weird in the 90’s too. I had a Motorolla Startec in 1999, boarding school kid style, and my buddy’s band was playing at ABC. I was using my cell in front of punk rock kids and we had a laugh about it, and a fight about it, and I puked. That was a good summer vacation, before vacation, and back to school. Everything was younger then.