For The New Yorker, Hanif Abdurraqib considers the cost of what he calls “relentless convenience,” our ability to stream content of every kind, be it movies, music, and even potential mates on dating apps, and what we lose when we live in this frictionless existence. There’s so much to learn and to savor in friction, he suggests, be it waiting for a song on the radio to complete a prized mixtape or the deep connection we can find if we go through the time and trouble to ditch electronic communication and actually meet others, face to face.
Maybe what my pal who insists on finding love the old-fashioned way is saying is that it shouldn’t be as frictionless as browsing Amazon from your couch. If you believe, as she does, that the next person you fall in love with could be the last partner you ever pursue, and the last who ever pursues you, then that pursuit should find you thrown fully into the world, eager for the beauty and discomfort of spontaneous human interaction. And I tell her that I mostly agree, though I generally just avoid dating apps because the onslaught of visual information overwhelms me. Still, I understand her desire, because so many of my own desires are detached from the reality of the times we live in. I am still inventing inconvenience in order to bolster my desire to feel alive.
More thinking by Hanif Aburraqib
In Defense of Despair
“The feeling is most commonly framed as an end point, a level of despondency that cannot be overcome. But it doesn’t have to be.”
André 3000 Is at Peace (For Now)
“One of the greatest rappers of our time in conversation with one of the most lauded culture writers alive on freedom, fame, flutes, and the burning question: ‘You gonna put some beats on that shit?’”
Beyond a ‘Reasonable Doubt’
“Revisiting Jay-Z’s hustler masterpiece—released on his own label at age 25—in the rapper’s billionaire era.”
