I used to read the New Yorker, years ago, I don't know what changed, me or them. Much of what they publish now comes across as self-pity, I don't have time in m

I used to read the New Yorker, years ago, I don't know what changed, me or them. Much of what they publish now comes across as self-pity, I don't have time in my life for that. Same as McSweeney's, I used to read it and I thought it was funny and now I read it and it comes across as self-pity. Give me decorative gourd season any time, but pieces where people complain about the things they haven't done aren't worth my time. Something new, please.