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.
"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.”
Here at the Dig, along with our partners from the Boston Institute for Nonprofit Journalism, we are busy working on multiple investigations—you know, the kind that critics who don’t know the first thing about independent media in 2018 keep alleging that papers like ours have stopped producing.