Jessica: I need to arrange the Return Of My Radar with you — once you're done pawing at it and getting it all dirty.
MediaOperative:There's a fighting chance I might be getting my very own copy, now.
Jessica:WELL! You love 'em and leave 'em, I see. Cruel.
MediaOperative:I have a mean streak.
Jessica:Yeah, yeah. And I have Nothing, really.
MediaOperative:You have a copy of Radar!
Jessica:But I know something you don't.
MediaOperative:Most people do.
Jessica:Radar doesn't bring happiness. In fact, it's rather empty.
MediaOperative:No! LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA!
Jessica: I've never felt so dead as I did when I first opened that Radar and saw, well, a lot of primary colors and sans serif text.
Jessica: And not much else, my friend.
MediaOperative:I CAN'T HEEEEEAR YOU!
Jessica: I didn't want to be the one to tell you
Jessica: Money buys happiness, but Radar does not.
MediaOperative: But Radar gets money.
MediaOperative: It's like a koan.
Jessica: But do you think they're going to buy your happiness for you?
MediaOperative: Isn't that what magazines do?
Jessica: Only Cond titles.
MediaOperative: And Absolute.
Jessica: Radar is like bad cocaine — you'll do unspeakable things to get your hands on it, but once you've got a bump, you feel dead on the inside.
Jessica: And I'm totally publishing this conversation.
MediaOperative: Shit. Oxfeld was bad enough, now I've got to compete with my own musings about magazines when I write my musing-about-magazines Radar thing?
Jessica: Hahahaha. WICKED GAME.