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.