Dear New York Times,
We have been through much over the years, but I feel that our close relationship must soon come to an end. I have to tell you something though: it's not me, it's you.
By requiring that I pay you 50 dollars for the privilege of reading your op-ed columnists is absolutely ridiculous. I am unsure as to how to proceed with our relationship. Do I simply bid thee adieu? I can't imagine living without your opinions in my life anymore, though it's something I suddenly may have to cope with. Let me tell you something, Times. I am fully prepared to cheat on you. While I once was naive enough to believe you would never hurt me, now it has come too far.
The way I see it, I have two factors working for me. One, I am smarter than you, and two, the internet is bigger than you. I shall scour the depths of the internet, seeking the small nuggets of wisdom that your writers produce once in a blue moon, and I will read. And learn. And you will be powerless to stop me, try as you might.
You know, I considered breaking up with you a few weeks ago, when you first started running those full-screen ads right after I clicked on a link. I would have to quickly press the "reload" button in order to skip the ad and go directly to the article or column. I know that in every relationship there is some give-and-take, and I assumed you were upset with my Firefox AdBlock configuration. But I was prepared to accept your obtrusive ads for products I could never afford, and I thought we were seeing eye-to-eye. But now I see the wisdom in the adage, "give an inch, take a mile."
So, NYTimes, it has finally come to this. The true test shall come down the road, when many newspapers run the same lifeless AP tripe, but you venture out and come back with a great story. I will be tempted to link to it, in an attempt to keep my readership informed on current events. And I may give in to temptation. But know this: I shall link to a printer-friendly format of your article. That's right, no ads, no clicking for second page, and I'll probably just cut-and-paste a large chunk of it, without permission, on my blog.
And if an insightful column is protected with your oh-so-brilliant NYTimes Select service? I have a feeling that passwords for this service will not be difficult to find. I'm still unclear as to whether you don't want me reading your columns, or whether this service is simply a tax on idiots, like the lottery or cigarettes. I'm going with the "tax-on-idiots" theory. You still love me, but I can understand if you need some space. I can go off on a fling, too. I know some bloggers who are just dying for attention. I might even find a new major daily that I like, who knows?
Perhaps we shall meet again in the future. I wish you nothing but the best as you head down the slippery slope of irrelevancy. I shall leave you with one of my favorite slogans: "Information wants to be free."