The world in which the five members of The National–and, I suspect, at least 90% of AD readers–live and move and gesture towards being is a wide, wide space with very low ceilings. It is a world in which many things are possible but very few of them provide any kind of lasting satisfaction, and the redlands near the edge of the horizon grow more terrifying, desolate, and unpopulated as they cease to be explored. The freedom to do and fail at anything tends to keep people . . .
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