Respect Authority

Back in the day, when my faith in the magazine industry was not yet lost, I made the massive mistake of subscribing to Radar. I say this was both a mistake, and massive, not because I don’t enjoy Radar — rather, it was and is one of my two favorite magazines — but because the process of subscribing to a dying media is trying, frustrating and ultimately heartbreaking.

You see, in a way this was my fault. Being something of a nerd for media gossip, I knew Radar’s unfortunate history: the magazine had already started and folded several times before its latest incarnation, sort of like a determined toddler whose attempts at walking keep ending with crashes into the coffee table.

Moreover, Radar’s latest foray into the great big world of publishing came at a time when magazines were already on the decline: some of the country’s more stalwart titles — Time, Newsweek, Men’s Vogue — were already seeing storm clouds on the horizon, so for a magazine devoted to the very celebrity gossip and snarky commentary reinvented by the mag-killing blogosphere to attempt a print revival — well it was sort of like glossy suicide.

But I was willing to hope. To this day, I stand by my belief that Radar offered some of the most unique content out there, and even its cornier pieces (the “top 100″ lists on the back page were a particularly egregious offender) were negated by a solid mix of investigative reporting and unwavering cynical banter. Unfortunately even that impressive blend of content and tone wasn’t enough to keep the mag’s latest comeback from faltering. Radar folded, again, last year, and its Web site has since been turned into a withering husk of subpar celebrity commentary (since being bought by American Media, the “brains” behind Star and the National Enquirer).

So when your favorite magazine is a goner, what’s a loyal reader to do? I assumed I’d never see my hard-earned $18 subscription fee again, so you can imagine my surprise when months after Radar’s unfortunate demise, I received a notice in the mail: I was to get a replacement subscription!

Sadly, my options were limited (thank you American Media) and terrible. Given the choice between Star, Men’s Fitness (inapplicable) and upbeat women’s title Self (equally inapplicable, thank you), I was forced to become a reluctant subscriber to what I consider one of the worst celebrity gossip magazines available. Perhaps more offensively, yet another two months have passed and I have still not received a single issue of Star in the mail!

Word to the wise RA readers, stick with blogs — particularly ours — lest you find yourself having wasted loyalty on a doomed medium, and out the cost of a decent little bag of weed.