So now a post on Thought Catalog alerts me that my generation murdered irony? Transcontinental Ironic Bitchfight! Denver, go get the video camera!
New York blog Gawker, which once called “stunt novelist” Tao Lin “the single most irritating person we’ve ever had to deal with,” then told its friend it liked him, then told its other friend it like like liked him, seems to have started hating him again at some point, as if the rest of us give a flying fuck.
This past week Gawker called out those “rain-soaked latte zombies” in Seattle for their cover story on Lin, by Lin, and in doing so managed to step in a big squishy irony turd, which is gonna be tough to get out of those point-toed goth shoes you New York vamps always wear.
This all has something to do with some man who calls himself “Jonathan Franzen,” who apparently writes some sort of books or something, and whom Time magazine, which has made a habit lately of working my last Goddamn nerve, seems to like enough to light up like a neanderthal statue in the Houston Science Museum.