Great profile of David Remnick in The Observer last Sunday. I love his New Yorker, though I'll refrain from saying anything catty about its previous incarnation, and I sorely miss receiving it in the mail once a week. It just costs far too much money to pay for international delivery, and the online version only has a third of the magazine in it. (If I ever decide to launch a Pay Pal button, as some bloggers have done, you may be sure donations will go to the New Yorker subscription fund).
The David Remnick of my generation is kicking around somewhere. Maybe he's blogging. But where? I'm just so impatient with so many of the under 35 year-olds on the loudspeaker-- that is, who have something of a public voice-- they strike me as whiny, self-centered would be hipsters or "New Bohemians" (cf recent New York Times photo essay) with more of an interest in their own withering irony than in investigating, tunnelling, interrogating, questioning.
Either that or they're overly earnest and moralizing academics. Sometimes they're academic hipsters (groan). You'll forgive me for not citing people by name, I'm not trying to alienate anyone, merely venting about the real lack of authentic, dedicated thought amongst Generation X.
Nevermind the bollocks, the pretensions; where is the good writing, people?