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The Sunday Papers


The day is almost over, so a relatively truncated version of the Sunday Papers today. The idea of this RPS-regular - in fact, THE RPS regular, as it's the most regular thing we do - is that we link to some more of the extended thinky-pieces to chew over on Sunday, and do so in such a rush before we link to an old post rock record featuring lyrics about bodily fluids in hair.

Failed.

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