I love a printed newspaper. I hate reading my news online. I don’t mind that my news is, by definition, at least 12 hours out of date by the time I read it. I like being alerted to the news I don’t read, even if I just flick through the many pages dedicated to sport. I like reading things in hard copy. I like being able to see at a glance just how long I will be spending on an article.
I was kind of appalled by how hard it was to get any kind of paper in New York.
Recently, I went into a convenience shop in Temple Bar where I have frequently bought the paper in the past only to be told that they do not sell newspapers. The, presumably new, employee said that they never had. I mean, I suppose they didn’t sell a lot of newspapers there but still and all.
When I go abroad, I like to pick up a local newspaper and see what’s going on in my chosen holiday destination. Is all this to end?
Well, according to this article in the Irish Times (note how I have photographed it from the paper, rather than putting in a link, a nice touch, I think you will agree), yes. Oh alas.
I hear you. As someone who cycles what most people think is ridiculous distances to buy a paper every day, I feel like I’m doubly out of kilter with the times. But on the plus side someone has just gifted me a year’s subscription to the (paper) London Review of Books and I’m extremely pleased about it.
Oh God the LRB was too much for me. It comes with such horrifying regularity. I can really recommend Slightly Foxed though – it comes quarterly and is a much less demanding read.