It’s been nearly 2 months since the London Paper closed, and the London Lite is set to go on Friday. And quite frankly, aren’t we glad to see the back of them? Did we really need them in the first place? Was there ever such demand for scurrilous gossip about B-list celebrities that couldn’t be filled by existing publications? Or that brand of faux-journalism where the reader found themselves working overtime to find a credible fact to latch onto? Did anyone really care about the real identity of ‘CityBoy’? Why did he need the extra cash if he really was a successful city banker? Isn’t it better that tube carriages look like tube carriages and not rubbish-strewn alleyways? And if nothing else, surely we needed the trees in this incrementally warming global climate?
Having never opened a copy of the Evening Standard, I couldn’t pass comment on it. Nor have I yet found myself wanting to open a copy. Something in that brief holiday after the London Paper closing and the Standard becoming free convinced me that 15 minutes spent staring vacantly around the tube reflecting on my day was a better use of mental space than reading yet another article about Peaches, Lily or Amy.
Maybe recessions are good for something after all.
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