I can't breathe!

Ever notice how goddamn heavy and unwieldy Artforum is? I try to peruse its pages in bed, but only end up with red marks on my thighs and sore wrists. Basically, the only way to view it efficiently is seated upright at a table.

You’re not meant to curl up to Artforum. You’re supposed to respect it.

On a similar subject:

I’ve been reading the catalogue for "between two deaths," a show in Germany this summer premised on the intriguing idea that melancholy, loss and anxiety are cultural trends, representing a return to romanticism. The release promises work that promises emancipation. The essays however are so weighed down with intellectual blah-blah, you don’t stand a chance of breathing. If you were to trim off the fat to get to the point, you’d have nothing more than the two sentences I wrote to describe the project.

So much goddamn weight everywhere passing for meaning.