One good way to spend your Sunday: reading a 7,834-word Atlantic profile of Kanye West.
How do you spell that cartoon noise where someone shakes their head from side to side in a violent blur of disbelief? Are you fucking kidding me? If ever there were a valid need for a 140-character limit, it would be in summarizing, in its vapid entirety, the nadir of anti-talent and zenith of overweening self-importance that come together in a deafening thunderclap of out-canceling, leaving us with the utter waste of oxygen conventionally known as Kanye Fucking West.
Didn't the Atlantic used to publish Mark Twain? Spengler, did you hear about this one?