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The New York Times steps into the blogging fray with dispatches from Cannes. Happy as we are to find the folks at 43rd Street entering this brave new world, we're upset to see that they're not exactly getting down with the whole spirit of the medium:

The ground rules, established through negotiations with The Powers That Be are these: we run our postings by at least one editor to make sure we are conforming to New York Times's standards, which in this specific case means we have not committed any grammatical faux pas, are not libeling anyone or calling anyone any nasty 12-letter names. Basically, the parental controls are on, but not egregiously. This is the first time we're trying something (anything) like this, so think of it as a work in progress - a good one, I hope.

So you've been warned: Don't expect to see anything like, Woody Allen's new film avoids the kind of stale cockknobbery that the child-molesting director has been mired in over his last few pictures. Me like lots. Sort of a shame. AB

Cannes Journal [NYTimes]