if you are wondering whether the United States is actually a country, and whether it ever was, and what human beings might do if it isn’t

if you feel saudades about people who are far away and wish people would talk about why that is

if you enjoy literary nonfiction vignettes that are in the style of Joseph Mitchell, E. B. White, Tom Wolfe, or John McPhee, but are less into being a straight white guy, and if you would enjoy occasional forays into Hunter S. Thompson territory (you know, like if you couldn’t stop in the New Yorker because it was bat country)1

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the new yorker is, and has always been, bat country