They thought we were just a bunch of fuckin’ scumbags putting out a paper, having a good time, smoking a bunch of pot. But they couldn’t give up that ultimate control and let us go nuts.
Whereas the Bernie party embraced imagery we’ve all been brainwashed into associating with right wingery—plastic furniture designed for outdoor use, a concession selling hot dogs to cover costs for a traveling little league baseball team—the Warren watch party looked like a casting call for an L.L. Bean commercial.
"Unfortunately, the leadership of the Republican party is at odds with their own voters, so I think we should replace the leader with a Republican who’s actually pro-environment."
"I have one regret from my Dig time, and it’s the story I never wrote."
“Sure! I’ll run into an abandoned subway tunnel for a freelancer I just met! No problem!”
"It was kind of a perfect storm moment. Gay marriage was on the ballot. When you get a cover like that, it sticks with you for a while."
I asked Billy Joel fans questions that a fundamentalist Christian would ask after a Marilyn Manson concert in 1997, swapping the names “Billy Joel” for “Marilyn Manson.”
The intern wrote something like, “The ’80s! It’s fun! Dance party!” I looked at that and said, “No, this is too earnest. I will destroy it.”
We’re like, “Sure! That should go in a newspaper! Put that in there!”
The Dig at that point was more of a Dadaist prank or a piece of performance art—almost a metacommentary joke about having a newspaper—as much as it was a newspaper.