In this week's feature—four years after the Urban Archipelago issue—eleven writers tackle happiness.

Here's Sarah Vowell:

Even though I spend so much of my working life thinking and writing about American history, I confess that the historical import of electing the first black president caught me entirely off guard. When it comes to electioneering, and especially governing, I'm decidedly non-narrative. I voted for Barack Obama because he's a reasoned, reasonable, fairly traditional Democrat who has spent his whole life doing his homework. But after the networks called the election in his favor and all the old civil rights veterans started crying on national TV, I was floored. Which is to say moved and proud and plain old happy. Then, a little after midnight, Cory Booker, the rather riveting young mayor of Newark, appeared on NBC. Then it hit me that not so long ago I used to think that Booker would be the first black president—in 20 or 30 years.

Here are a few sentences from John Hodgman's contribution:

On the plane today, I have been reading Newsweek, trying to catch up. (Have you heard of it? It is something called a magazine, and you don't need to turn it off when you're flying.) I read that on the night of the New Hampshire primary, John McCain booked the same room that he had back when he won New Hampshire in 2000, out of superstition. He also wore the same sweater, and carried a lucky penny and "an Indian feather." I have never been more relieved to know that he is not our president.

Here are two paragraphs by Lindy West:

A lot of people I know purchased or crafted T-shirts with Barack Obama's face on them. They wore the T-shirts on their bodies because they were excited about the idea of Barack Obama, and what he represents, and his potential for changing the country and saving us all, and because he is handsome and brave, and they wanted him to win so badly that they donated their torsos to spreading the word about his face. Vote for this face, they said. Make this face your president. And so we did.

Maybe you are one of these people with one of these shirts. If you are, it's time for me to deliver some bad news: Your shirt is awkward now. I mean, what are you going to do with it? Wear it? Wear a T-shirt with the president's huge face on it? UM! That is WEIRD. The moment Barack Obama won the presidential election, your shirt became creepy. It's weird enough that those Shepard Fairey posters are still plastered everywhere, Chairman Mao style. Like that crazy "President for Life" dude (dead now) in Turkmenistan who invented his own alphabet and banned all things that were not a giant gold statue of his own head (unverified). It's like that. Do you want that?

The rest of Hodgman's and West's—as well as pieces by Gary Shteyngart, Adam Haslett, Annie Wagner, Charles Mudede, Edmund White, Dan Savage, Brendan Kiley, and one other guy—can be read here.

Oh, and don't miss the awesome graphic created by the lovely and amazing Tim Sanders: