The season of cool breezes and kaleidoscopic leaves. Of football fandom—watching young men ruin their brains for life—and campus strolls, where you can watch our youth rack up a lifetime of student-loan debt in exchange for the most uncertain employment outlook for college grads in a generation.
Misery, thy name is autumn.
At least we have the arts, which seize the season with new vigor every September, and where depression, dysfunction and an overall dismal disposition is not a state of mind: it’s material.
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