THE paper

I love the paper. I prefer the actual physical paper in all it’s dirty smelly glory.
I grew up with it, I often remember my father as the disembodied voice behind the Star Tribune:

“We’re furious with you! Aren’t we!?!”, Mother shrieked.
“furious.”, deadpanned Dad.

I know now that he had no clue why I was getting berated was about, he was just glad it wasn’t him.
The paper paper is intransitive – it’s not fluid like news on the web. I’ve often noticed that the best humor in the paper gets ‘corrected’ in the online version, usually after I sent it to some friends.
Something seems wrong to me about a continually fluid news stream. The optimistic would point out that accuracy would be increased. I think we’d lose something though, errors and journalistic lapses themselves are part of the news as well as being funny as hell.

Nobody else I know reads the paper – so I often have find what I’ve read online to share it. Sometimes the online version is much cooler, as in this fascinating graphic
The print version had one year instead of 20.

In other highlights from the weekend paper:

Everyone onstage dances like hell, and when we get to hell, it will be full of ballets like this. Its loud rock score, by David Rozenblatt, sounds like a refrigerator copulating with a hot tin roof.
— Alastair Macaulay

This quote disproves the inverted pyramid – the most important sentence in the article is the last one.