As the world, and the media, get sillier by the minute, an old fogey takes refuge in old-fashioned rational argument. The London Review of Books is an extravagance, in that it gives its writers time to develop what they have to say, but those writers are generally not waffly and self-important - they take the time because they need go to go into detail, and one of the abvantages of being retired is that I do have time to spare for such reading.
For instance, in the current edition there's a long article by David Bromwich on free speed. Rushdie, Charlie Hebdo, no platforming in US universities, and a lot more besides - including Timothy Garton Ash's current book on free speech. there's nothing in the article which is far fetched or outrageous, and lots of moments where I think - "yeah, maybe that's what I thought when..." But the overall effect is of gratitude, that I feel wiser, clearer, less confused. Somebody out there is serious about making sense of the world.