please indulge my little rant

Before I get to talking about my adventures last night, I want to first talk about something that bothered me today as I was riding the train home. Before I left the city I grabbed my friends copy of the New Yorker to read on the excriciatingly painful ride home, hung over and with a bad case of the "I hate me"'s. whatever, that's not all that important. What is important is what is going on in publications that were once about culture and intellectual persuit. I'm not really an angel or puritanical in any way. I'm not a prude and I'm actually quite fond of expletives, and use them more often than I should. Some might even say that I talk like a sailor most of the time. But, that being said, I found myself getting increasingly more annoyed and almost offended by the fact that every story that I read was loaded with profanity. I mean, really. What's the deal? The New Yorker is a publication that should hold itself to a higher standard. It should be a beacon of culture and shouldn't dumb itself down. I realize that in todays society, the use of profanity isn't as shocking and inappropriate as it once was. and hearing four letter words constantly throughout the day isn't unusual, but is there any limit? At what point do you say enough? I feel like writing like that is lazy and lacks creativity.