Thought Catalog

A Letter To My Unread Pile Of New Yorker Magazines

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I hate you. I mean, I don’t hate you hate you. I just resent you deeply. Like the way you resent an older, more successful sibling. Or the way all the other guys from ‘N SYNC can’t stand Justin Timberlake. You’re always sitting there, staring at me, reminding me of my failings. A neatly stacked pile of knowledge and intellect that I haven’t touched in months, mostly because I’ve been busy watching Dance Moms and The Complete Second Season of Felicity for the third time. You’re a constant reminder of everything I could be, New Yorkers, if only I applied myself. Smart, opinionated, totally recyclable. And you have cartoons! Cartoons so funny that when you read them they don’t actually seem funny at all, which is how you know that deep down they are very very funny indeed.

We started out on such a promising note, New Yorkers. I got that subscription for you for my birthday, and for a while we went everywhere together. To the gym. To the toilet. To the toilet at the gym. Every week I’d read you cover to cover, even the reviews of books no one would ever read and the profiles of deposed political leaders from countries I’m pretty sure you made up. You were so interesting, and allowed me to be so interesting in turn. I could use sentences like, “Did you read that story on education in the New Yorker?” or “Oh, that reminds me of this story on education in the New Yorker!” (It was a really good story.) And then I could watch as my friends looked back me, impressed. Annoyed too, of course, very annoyed, but also impressed. It was clear that they had let their New Yorkers go unread. But not I. I would be different. Sigh.

I tried so many things to keep our relationship fresh. When you’d arrive on Tuesday, I’d make a serious point of looking through you and picking out what I was going to read. “Oh, a profile on Seth MacFarlane, I’ll save that for this weekend!” Then the weekend would come, A&E would be showing a Duck Dynasty marathon, and I’d reschedule our date, like always. Could you say I was unfaithful? Of course. But Duck Dynasty is a show about a Louisiana family that shoots ducks and sells duck call machines and never ever trims their beards or showers. How are you gonna compete with that, Pile of New Yorkers?! With an article on how photosynthesis has contributed to the energy crisis?! Come on. Commitment is a two-way street. Make a little effort.

I really think I could make this work if you could make one change: come less frequently. I mean, a new magazine every week? It’s relentless. And frankly, a little insecure. I’m into you, New Yorker, I’m just not sure I’m that into you anymore. I accept the blame. I’ve changed, you haven’t. There was a time when I thought an entire bound “Innovators Issue” sounded like a spectacular idea. Now I just wish the mailman would deliver it directly the bottom of the pile sitting on my counter, because that’s where it’s going to stay. Which brings me to the final matter at hand. Truly, I don’t know what to do. You go all the way back until March, Unread Pile of New Yorkers, and I can’t bring myself to throw you away. I know there’s still good in you, articles I want to read, things I’ll miss when they’re gone. Even though, right now, looking at you makes me ashamed. Can we make this work? Do we go for therapy? Our should we start seeing other periodicals? Because I ran into Rolling Stone at CVS yesterday and we really hit it off. Her pictures looked really…great. And, well, I don’t know how to tell you this, but last week, I used one of you to swat a fly. Is that how we know it’s over? TC mark

image – The New Yorker

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    • Vaishnavi

      Send them to me! I would LOVE a New Yorker subscription. For the first month, at least.

      • http://thebriandonovan.wordpress.com Brian Donovan

        It seemed great to me too. And they are great, honestly, but they make me feel inferior.

    • Awal

      Please correct your spelling error. Change “Our” to “Or” in the last paragraph. You’ll see it.

    • frr@mailinator.com

      i i i i i’ve i’m my i i i’ll i i me i i i me me i i’ve i me my i’ll i i

    • http://dragonhuaa.wordpress.com dragonhuaw

      Hilarious! I have a pile too and I’ve used one to chase out a mosquito!

    • http://dragonhuaa.wordpress.com dragonhuaw

      Reblogged this on dragonhua and commented:
      To my New Yorker magazines-reblog from Brian Donovan.

    • http://bethaniethewookie.wordpress.com Bethanie the Wookie

      I feel this way about my fashion magazines. They lay there while I play MyTown2 on my phone and watch Mad Men on Netflix.

    • Guest

      Great Article!

    • http://25singlewhitefemale.wordpress.com 25swf

      So wonderful. I believe we are the same person. Even down to the Felicity reference. It makes me feel better that I take my New Yorkers out of a stack and strategically place them around my apartment. One in the bathroom, one in the kitchen, one on my desk…a few on the coffee table. Every time a new one comes I think…oh, already? And then immediate anxiety sets in. I need to catch up. I will never catch up. Here’s to cutting our loses and reading on.

    • Evelyn

      Brian, I dont know who you are, but I’m in love with you. Everything you said is exactly what I’ve done and how I feel….but wait, does this mean I’m in love with myself? And the time I’m spending reading a stranger’s blog could be time spent dedicated to consolidating that pile staring at me from the corner of my cocktail table? Mocking me? We shall see. Til then, I’m going to catch up on my missed Daily Show and Family Guy episodes on Hulu.

    • http://www.eventbrite.com/o/jacquelyn-7267955031 Jewellery

      Jewellery

      A Letter To My Unread Pile Of New Yorker Magazines | Thought Catalog

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      […] have lamented not being able to get through everything in the magazine. Everyone from The Onion to Thought Catalog has addressed the scourge of an unread stack of magazines, and a group of four anonymous New Yorker […]

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