The New Yorker, My Gratitude Knows No Bounds

I always knew I didn’t much care for Coldplay, but up until now, I figured it was just a reasonable thing to do and I couldn’t ever trouble myself enough to investigate further. I thank you, The New Yorker!

Seven out of ten times, Coldplay sound almost exactly like U2—the U2 that exists now, not the wiry, feral U2 of 1980 (which would be a decent idea). U2 have not broken up. This is inefficient. Coldplay should consider copying Big Star or The Monkees.

I always knew I loved Miranda July, but even though this was exactly how it should be, until now, I could not have known all of the reasons why. The New Yorker, I thank you!

In time, I improved. I discovered that stealing required a loose, casual energy, a sort of oneness with the environment, like surfing or horse-whispering. And once I knew I could do it I felt strangely obliged to. I remember feeling guilty for not stealing, as though I were wasting money.

    • Gene
    • October 24th, 2011

    So clever of you to take liberties with an infamous Barbara Amiel comment in your header!

      • 68comeback
      • October 24th, 2011

      Accidents will happen.

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