I don’t know about you, but the Britney Spears 24/7 channels are getting to me. Fortunately, I can turn the TV off.

But in an election year, at a time when we have actual stories of consequence being ignored for more “interesting” celebrity news, I seek the rationale and reassurance of traditional media outlets.

My local library has The New Yorker among its periodical holdings. And to make things even better, this particular library system allows you to check the magazines out. Tonight I found myself reading David Denby’s essay on the films of Otto Preminger from the January 14, 2008, issue.

To help ward off the legions of TMZs that seem to be doubling in size every day, The New Yorker is of help in many other ways. In addition to the magazine, The New Yorker offers online content, blogs and even audio confort in the form of podcasts. For example, a click here will offer listeners “The New Yorker’s poetry editor, Paul Muldoon, [as he] talks with Matt Dellinger about rock and roll and the state of poetry.”

If I can always find forms of media that engage me, rather than seemingly killing off brain cells as a victim of poor taste pop culture, I’ll be fine. At least that’s what I tell myself.