"There is no escape, is there?" Marie asked. Did she end with a cry or a laugh?
Both the NYer & n+1 (above) feature stories of impending doom, maybe. These are not the stories we have learned to expect with clear Armageddon trajectories complete with explosions or raining brimstone. Instead, they are curiously tepid stories told in the language of crisis. Do they express a self-doubting anxiety or mock the prevalent paranoia of these times? I am not quite sure what to make of it.