Stephen Rodrick In the years before Twitter was euthanized, I’d patiently wait for the onset of the holiday season, and the renewal in my feed of the great “Love Actually” Debate.
Every year, the best and brightest of the world — middle management apparatchiks, underemployed magazine writers and hall of fame doomscrollers — would chime in, mostly on the nein side, and make their arguments with eloquence.
My favorite was ‘You’re a fucking idiot.’ That one I heard a lot. “Love Actually” turns 20 this month, and I thought it was time for a thorough revaluation.
Was it still a glorious double-steak overstuffed Chipotle burrito of humanity, or would I now see it as they did — a foot-long Subway sandwich with way too many olives bought at a South Dakota gas station?
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