Helping You Get the Most Out of Your Misery






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Saturday, March 12, 2011



It's hard to walk away from a relationship. It's so hard that, sometimes, we stay and stay and stay in a situation that's just no good for us. When there are other, more fulfilling things we could be doing, we make the choice to stay in the relationship we don't want anymore to avoid having nothing. We take the coward's way out because it always just seems like it's easier to stay together.

I've tried to end it any number of times. And then I swallow my pride and come crawling back, knowing that the love isn't there. Well, I'm done with that. I mean it.

Because there comes a breaking point, doesn't there? There comes that point when you know. You know that, if you make that same mistake one more time; if you cave in and let things continue once again, you will have lost an amount of respect for yourself you cannot lose and still go on.

So I've reached that point. And it's over.

It's liberating, knowing that this is it. That the longest relationship of my life is coming to an end. Time to move on.

It was time to move on as soon as I saw that you'd put Lost on the cover this week. Ten fucking months after the show goes off the air and you feel that Lost is relevant enough to merit not just an article, but a fucking cover? It was bad enough when the show was still on and you'd have them on the cover every other week. But now? I'll be honest, I don't give a shit what the stars of Lost are doing now. And I loved that show. Loved it! But I have less than no desire to read a fucking cover story about Matthew Fox doing a play in the West End. No, sir. Sorry, Entertainment Weekly. I'm out.

I've left before, I know. And then I see a Dark Knight cover and I buy an issue off the newsstand. And then I pay $4.50 for a Summer Movie Preview and I start to think, "Hey, if I'm going to be buying this anyway, I might as well be paying the subscription rate." Which is how I find myself reading the fucking Power Issue. And your big American Idol preview. Or the latest utterly unnecessary list, like The Fifty Greatest Movies Featuring Cheese or whatever other pointless set of factoids you crap out.

And I'll be honest, even the Summer Movie Preview isn't what it used to be. That's right. Even at your best these days, you can't recapture what we had way back when. I haven't forgotten, Entertainment Weekly. I remember back in the 90s. Back when you had that edge. Back when you were young and hip and we'd spend hours together. That was a long time ago. And I don't need you now.

You might as well know: I've been seeing the AV Club for awhile now. They're everything you used to be and more. And they're free. So this is it. This is goodbye. Don't send me your pathetic renewal requests, because I'm not coming back. I might think of you every once in awhile. But then I'll remember how many of your articles I skip on average these days, and I'll set you back down gently on the magazine rack and walk away.