Sinclair Broadcast Group, the media company that aggressively used its 57 television stations to distribute lies about John Kerry and did everything it could to make sure George W. Bush won re-election in 2004, is on the verge of bankruptcy.

Students who score higher on physical fitness tests also reliably score higher on math and reading tests, disproving the fat kid's standard "dumb jocks are dumb" defense. Fat kids can still claim to be better at art and cooking. [NYP]

Bernie Madoff's prison sentence has been reduced from 150 years to 130 years. Or maybe it hasn't. But for whatever reason the Bureau of Prisons has the fraudster's release date listed for 2139. Math error or evidence Bernie's opened up his wallet and is now dishing out bribes to prison officials? You decide! [Dealbreaker]

The happiest man in New York today? That would be Lloyd Blankfein, the chairman and CEO of Goldman Sachs, which announced this morning that the bank reeled in a record $13.8 billion in revenue for the second quarter and generated profits of $3.44 billion. It's a big turnaround from a few months ago when the firm was holding out its hand for billions in bailout dollars, of course. But that's water under the bridge. And no one seems to be so sure how Goldman managed to do it. Blankfein attributed the big gains to "the combination of improving financial market conditions and a deep and diverse client franchise" in a news release today, whatever that means. But who cares how Goldman did it? The important thing is to go out and celebrate, right?

It ought to be a good thing when a financial firm and starts making money again. Green shoots! But it's really not, unless you work at said firm or maybe sleep with someone who works there — line up, ladies!

Web producer Annemarie Dooling was in line at HSBC when a robbery held up the bank. She immediately sprung into action. On Twitter.

BusinessWeek is for sale! How much do we hear for this, the granddaddy of all business magazines? Do we hear...$1? Anyone?

Oh Fox & Friends. The whimpering ferrets had Show-and-Tell today, and somebody (Gretchywetchy, was it you?) brought in their crazy uncle Glenn Beck. He wanted to warn the kids of one thing: Communism is coming. And it will destroy us.

Anne Hathaway's New York stage debut in Twelfth Night at the Delacorte closed on Sunday, but not before she could do something rather... heroic. Wee hours line waiters were treated to pizza on Sunday morning, hand delivered by Hathaway herself.

Multiple sources tell us that Dash Snow—photographer, semen artist, graffiti writer, and embodiment of the downtown NYC scene—has apparently died of a heroin overdose, two years shy of his 30th birthday.

Dolce & Gabbana publicist Ali Wise is facing a few felony charges for allegedly hacking into the voice mail of interior designer Nina Freudenberger. And there appear to be other victims of Wise's electronic crime spree, including a fashion designer named Briana Rasinski, according to today's Post. But Wise has at least one friend who's got her back: Stacey Bendet, the founder of alice + olivia. Judging by her comments, we're going to go ahead and assume that Freudenberger will not be asked to design the next home that Bendet and her husband Eric Eisner move into:

Forget their anti-finance eugenics program. The chichi private club is now just openly hoping you'll die so they can whittle their membership down. This huge power cord was splayed next to the swimming pool at a recent "movie night."

Remember about a month ago when people reported seeing couples having wild sex in the windows of the new Standard Hotel? Those couples that managed to cover every possible sexual preference (men/women, men/men, women/women), and were almost always described as gorgeous by passerby? Just in case it wasn't clear that it was all part of an elaborate viral marketing campaign by hotelier (and hottie) Andre Balazs—conveniently timed to coincide with the opening of the hotel's new bar and restaurant in early June—comes a post on the hotel's official blog, which not only touts the "floor to ceiling glass windows" that "offer direct views to your most intimate moments," but also asks "amateur pornographers" to send in their "most erotic photos shot at The Standard" or upload them to Facebook:

Frank McCourt, the voluble Irish-American memoirist and retired New York City schoolteacher who wrote Angela's Ashes, is on his deathbed, according to the Belfast Telegraph.

A Southwest Airlines flight from Nashville to Baltimore last night made an unscheduled stop in West Virginia. Because a hole "appeared" in the plane, in the same sense that a meteor "appeared" over the Yucatan, then obliterated the dinosaurs.

[That's "Gossip Girls" Lehigh Mister and Blork Liverly filming outside the Met yesterday; image via Bauer-Griffin]

Today we have a gay TV actor who likes to flaunt his joint at the community gym, a nasty fameball who was caught slipping a lady a roofie, and a brokenhearted actor who ended up in a bathroom threesome.

Gawker is reporting that hipster artist/photographer Dash Snow died of a heroin overdose last night, and messages posted to Twitter by some of Snow's friends seem to back it up. There hasn't been official confirmation yet. In the meantime, though, you can read more about Snow here, if you're interested. Update: The Times has confirmed Snow's death. [Gawker, photo via Mister Mort]

The news-less summer is saved—the Countess Divorceé trial continues, mercifully! The latest preposterous occurrence: Marie Douglas-David's CEO hubby was not only raped, but also menaced. By his wife's imperious tones!

Ivanka Trump talking on her cell phone ... Elijah Wood walking in SoHo with girlfriend Pamela Racine ... Jay-Z scowling at a photographer in the Garment District ... Heidi Klum holding her son's hand after leaving dinner at Cipriani Downtown ... Gerard Butler shooting scenes for The Bounty in the West Village ... Joan Rivers leaving a movie theater uptown ... Liev Schreiber walking by himself downtown ... Maria Bello drinking wine outdoors ... Drew Barrymore and Justin Long hanging out on the set of Going the Distance in Brooklyn ... Kelly Clarkson signing autographs outside her hotel in Midtown ... and Kelly Bensimon jogging in the West Village.