Like, attempted murder.
Why buy a newspaper? To be informed and then depressed about the Middle East or Africa? To get angry because of some stupid government policy that's bringing lazy or murderous illegal aliens into the country?
No. The point is to read about a tragedy that makes you feel better about your own miserable life. Like:
Uplifting, isn't it! Serves 'em right, doesn't it?
A fucking "real estate developer." It could only have been more amusing if this Dearden dope (with the trendy stubble mustache-and-beard set) had been a HEDGE FUND TRADER.
This fuckhead is living in a half a million dollar home in Yonkers. If he didn't have two daughters to feed he'd probably have a million dollar home in Bronxville, or a two million dollar estate further up the train line to Tuckahoe or Chappaqua (where the Clintons live in suburban splendor).
He's got a decent-looking wife. On the surface, everything's fine. He might not even have erectile dysfunction (as a result of his dull fuckin' job). So his wife, a PSYCHOLOGIST, is cheating on him. "Trouble in Paradise."
Happily he survives a gunshot to the back of his head. For this, the woman is only charged with "second degree attempted murder" (she might not even serve time) and he has to get out an order of protection to keep her away from him!
But it's a fun story.
Let's read more.
Yes, the fun here, is that as bad as our lives are, as little as we might be making, as far from the storybook "house and family" as we might be...look at what happened here. "Beware what you wish for, Dearden." Lucky your crazy PSYCHOLOGIST wife didn't go black on you, or Muslim, and chop your head off to make sure you were dead, and THEN blame it on a mysterious stranger.
And so we feel momentarily better about ourselves by enjoying the suffering of others. As long as it has a fairly happy ending (he's alive, she goes to jail and maybe doesn't get conjugal visits with her married lover).
Then we move on to the television page, the sports, the gossip, the crossword puzzle, the horoscope...without the depression kicking in of, "See, even if you have everything in life, fate conspires to make you miserable. Who is happy?"
Oh, Dearden, maybe. He's in the glow of "lucky to be alive." He might actually start thinking, "make good use of the time you have left," which doesn't mean setting up a Rapidgator account and making nickels and dimes by stealing the new Taylor Swift album.
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