What people they are. Clearly I’m won over by the woman’s “Listen to Me (damnit)” sign. I for one, refuse.
The most recent protest I saw called for the end of Israeli fascism, I however, took no pictures from the bus window. Clearly a mistake.
Below are pictures I took of the Tea Party’s rally outside of my office in Freedom Plaza. For a self-styled populist movement, they’re rather wealthy and educated, but OK.
I’ve been reading the New York Times with some frequency as of late. I’m blaming my iphone, but still kind of uneasy about the whole thing. Sure, sure, it’s a good publication, worthy of it’s readership, but do I see myself as part of the aforementioned readership? More pointed, do I want to see myself as part of said readership?
Being informed is all well and good, certainly desirable given the whole democratic society mumbo jumbo, but informed by what, by whom? What does it say about one when they’re at a cocktail party and they begin with the requisite, “yes, that’s fascinating; you know I was reading something in the New York Times not unrelated to that very subject just the other day…(ad infinitum)?”
What is the point of all of this? Why not just say, “the paper,” or “on the internet?” It seems to me that the New York Times (which I’ll start refering to as the NYT, partially out of laziness and partially because I don’t mind drawing the comparison with the BYT, another mythic publication [read: blog]) becomes the marker as one’s status as initiated: intelligent, aware, probably liberal, able to read. On recalling the publication itself, and not just the story, one is saying one has the time at work to surf the NYT website, a phone built after the year 2004 or the means and desire to spend several dollars on a quotidien luxury (not unlike a latte from one of various coffee shops that are just “worth it”).
To all who know me, I need not defend my status as a spender. Buying shit brings me so much joy I can’t even describe it, as does coffee. I get it, I get the splurge, the quality, the experience and above all, the craftsmanship. But somewhere along the way the NYT lost me. The mythology of it all is very charming to me, and I don’t doubt the quality either, but I remain in awe of the way it can become so central —or seemingly so— to the identity of its readers.
I right this as a preface, as my reading of said NYT continues, who know the person I will become. More informed, probably. More liberal, probably not. Ready to splurge on another thing I could probably do without or get for free on the internet, I won’t be surprised. Remember me as I am, a member of the dense, unsophisticated mass of non NYT readers, for I cannot promise you that our next meeting will not involve pontification that I will legitimize with all the news that’s fit to print.
Additionally, I may look like this:
Clearly, I mean no offense to the readers of or talented journalists working for the NYT, I’m now a disciple.
What the fuck is the internet ? (.tumblr.com)
