I enjoy reading a lot of periodicals, but quite a few not enough to pay for regular, unlimited access. Given the limits of time, even if they cost less, in many cases I’d still pass.
The Guardian takes an interesting, Wikipedia-like approach of saying, “Hey, we notice you’ve read this many articles lately, how ’bout ponying up a little you cheap son-of-a-bitch, and you know, enable our journos to feed their families.” Well, something like that.
There’s one pub, Slate.com, that I’m uncharacteristically quite conflicted about not having access to. All because of Slate’s ‘Dear Prudence’ advice column. And it’s all because of their steady diet of seriously clickbaity headlines.
I am weak, so I wanna click, click, click these.
Help! My Husband’s Appearance Has Deteriorated to a Frightening Degree.
Help! My Sister Insists I Invite Her Disastrous Husband to My Bachelor Party. Oh No.
Help! My Husband Interprets Every Little Thing as “Evidence” of an Affair.
Help! My Wife Thinks She’s Great at Socializing. Yikes.
Help! My Priest Told Me He’s Leaving His Priesthood for Me.
You are right! My life would be enriched by a steady diet of ‘Dear Prudence’ exchanges of this nature.* So I should just pay up.
Thank you for listening.
*unless the Good Wife is responsible for the first
