I cancelled my longstanding subscription to the Paris Review shortly after their change in editorship. It was absolutely painful to do so. It once felt like a t

I cancelled my longstanding subscription to the Paris Review shortly after their change in editorship. It was absolutely painful to do so. It once felt like a thoughtful well-curated window into the emotional inner lives of others. It has comforted me through weird life circumstances better than anyone I know could. Somehow though, technology has challenged the meaning of what an inner life is. It has turned insides out. Competing with that has made recent literature feel like an identity based gimmick to me. It tries to capture an audience moreso than wait patiently with something strange and unique. Or the selection process which rewarded nuance has stopped functioning. It's tragic because our shut-in shutdown often trivial feeling lives bear a great need for elevation of the human experience these days.