So, today marked an historic date.... the final issue of thelondonpaper. I put the issue to Murdoch now: why not shut down The Sun or The Times instead? No? Well, fuck you, Murdoch. Fuck you anyway, but more so.
The final issue was more than a little touching. They did make something of a big deal out of the fact that they were closing, but perhaps the most affecting bit - in my view - happened to be the regular features, lacking more than a few usual features. City Boy wrote a long, funny column, but Lovestruck was missing (so no more mysterious messages to me, then), and I didn't see any men or ladies about town, gay or otherwise (maybe there were during the rest of the week), but I adore Katherine Richardson's column and... missed it. Damn.
Anyway, one of the things that did mention TLP's closure was a feature by the editor, featuring a huge picture of an inane grinning vendor surrounded with reminiscences of the development of TLP. "We came up," claims Hatfield (he's the editor... or, he was), "with the radical notion that many 18-35-year-old Londoners' principal occupation outside of work might be getting laid." As if to prove his point, the necessary addendum to any pithy comment, "(who knew?)," hung there afterwards, making me (at least) stop and check back.
Yes, Hatfield definitely referenced getting laid.
Bring back the damn paper already!
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