When I started the series of posts titled "Periodical Ramblings", I noted that I shared a fondness for magazines with a sister who had tons of them piled around her house. It has been pointed out to me that I also have several pounds of them as well, many of which I can access electronically. As fall approaches I have been throwing them out. Reluctantly. While doing so, I paused over the covers of the New Yorker. Here are two from almost a decade ago and they seem still to have some relevance. Unfortunately.
The Bonus:
Loyal readers will know that this often is where the good stuff is found. In this instance, it is not so much a clever remark or insightful insight, but an actual gift. The first reader to respond, and who has a pickup truck, can have a huge stack of Spy magazines. Here is the cover of one from 1993, which is also relevant since it will apply to a sizeable segment of the U.S. electorate in early Nov.
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