Oh, how critics love to proclaim the death of something! What is that morbid fascination with dying that we must apply it to inanimate objects, places, activities? I am both irritated and weary at the articles heralding the death of books, the not-death of books, and on and on.
In addition to the book, we've heard this about:
The death of painting
The death of classical music
The death of the novel
The death of the short story
The death of letterpress
Online searches turn up:
The death of God
The death of money
The death of the west
The death of the party
The death of pop
The death of conversation
The death of comedy
The death of golf
The death of sprawl
The death of expertise
The death of satire
The death of the peanut
I say if we are still talking about it, it isn't dead. Long live civilization!
In addition to the book, we've heard this about:
The death of painting
The death of classical music
The death of the novel
The death of the short story
The death of letterpress
Since we find so many lists as we face the death of 2015, here is one more.
Online searches turn up:
The death of God
The death of money
The death of the west
The death of the party
The death of pop
The death of conversation
The death of comedy
The death of golf
The death of sprawl
The death of expertise
The death of satire
The death of the peanut
I say if we are still talking about it, it isn't dead. Long live civilization!
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