In 25 words or less?
I don't remember anyone back in the day taking Joyce Brothers seriously. She was pure entertainment. I am not sure that applies to articles puffing her, like this one.
We're living in a time when almost all art approved by the public and the bureaucracy is goofy. Conceptualism abounds in bad puns and other low-grade humor -- 'Don't take me seriously, I'm just a goofball.' It is the other side of The Fear and Security Mind. Someday this period will be known as 'the Era of the Sad Clowns', or maybe 'Sorry Clowns' -- unless it's forgotten completely.
It sounds like the writers are playing the game of 'Yes but', described in Eric Berne's classic Games People Play. One can play this game with any number of players on either side. Berne characterizes it as a 'party game' but it can be played anywhere where a conversation can be held. One player or side proposes a life problem, the other gives a suggestion for dealing with the problem, then the first player says 'Yes but' and gives a reason why the suggestion won't work. The first player or side to give up wins, but often players simply want to bat the old ball back and forth over the net indefinitely because they enjoy the roles -- Poor Me and Wise Helper / Savior.
In the particular case (writing what you like / art for money) the chances of success are so improbable that games like Yes But are crucial to getting anything out of the experience.
If the game becomes tiresome, one can consider switching roles, or even playing a different game. Berne's book has quite a few of them.
@Niko Bellic -- I have enough thumbs right now.
I would like the author's thumbprint, in blood.
@My Number Is My Address -- That was so appropriate. Burning hipsters -- it sounds like a 1959 poem by Allen Ginsburg. If the shoppe owners were smart (and what East Village shoppe owners are not smart?) they could make it a regular feature of their enterprise.
@skyslang -- No hats, no hipsters. 'Hip' died a long time ago, but no one told these people until a few years ago. Now they have vanished like snow on the river. Last one I saw was wandering along Kent Avenue a couple of years ago. There might be a few left in the provinces, like Bushwick.
Growing up is hard. And old age 'is not for sissies'. So enjoy being middle-aged while you can.
I know that there are no longer any hipsters because I have seen the funny little hipster hats for sale in the Chinese discount junk stores at very, very low prices.
On Moon Useless
What would happen if we lost our discovery.com? Seems like win-win.