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When illness erases the fine line between love and obsession.
If not for a tragic car accident in 2001, W.G. Sebald would be celebrating his senior citizenship next week. Recalling an obsessive introduction to the author’s unclassifiable genre.
We’ve all had songs we could listen to it for days on end—and have, much to the annoyance of anyone within earshot.
Grief takes on many forms, though it’s rare to hear about a sudden addiction to comedy clubs and Seth Meyers’s political impersonations.
Find a new band, listen to the single, expand to a few more songs, then a whole album, then all the albums, and finally, months later, you’ve exhausted their entire catalog—and listened to nothing else in between. Now: Repeat.
There are many reasons to pepper a celebrity with fan mail: admiration, a sense of kinship, obsession, even boredom. Any are acceptable and all are believable—until you try to explain your motives to others.
A never-quenched need for aged, obscure cookery manuals, preferably the kind with recipes for Tunnel of Fudge.