In a letter to the judge who will sentence him for his kidnapping and sexual assault conviction, former WWD media reporter and unsexyfakefireman Peter Braunstein asks for sympathy: "During the trial, the New York Post columnist Andrea Peyser declared that I was not sick; I was evil. This kind of tabloid rhetoric is essentially a mandate for harsh sentencing." Braunstein also suggested that Peyser's branding Paris Hilton an "ignorant slut" was "a little harsh." [NYP]
Claw-baring catwalker Naomi Campbell says she picked up more than trash while working off a community-service sentence at a city Sanitation Department facility - she also landed a much-needed lesson in humility. In a soul-baring, day-to-day diary that she penned during her week cleaning Sanit offices at Pier 36 in Manhattan, the manic mannequin provides more-than-skin-deep insight into her much-publicized, usually explosive psyche.
Designated Post moralist Andrea Peyser can still work herself into a state of highly-frothed outrage when righteous anger is called for (or not called for!), but if today's paper is any indication, The Peys has a softer side.
Columnist of the Century Andrea Peyser cannot get enough of beefy virgin Herb Shaw. She follows up on last week's story about the prospective "I Want To Fuck a Porn Star" contestant with the happy news that, so far, seven women who saw his story in the Post have contacted him in the hopes of finding the last man in New York without a wife, a boyfriend, and herpes. Peyser, whose appearance at the audition caused producers to worry that they lacked enough of the unlaid, tries to sound hopeful for Herb, but it seems clear that she wants him to save himself for the porn star, or, at least, someone more deserving. Someone with, say, a column at the Post? Either way, look at the photo of Herb and his father. Let's just say that if that guy—and is he also Bam Margera's dad?— got some, Herb shouldn't have too many problems.
Andrea Peyser dials down her Moral Outrage Meter to mere Sklar-like chiding this morning, clucking her tongue at "Virgin Territory," a proposed reality show (maybe it'll air on the new Court TV!) in which a bunch of virgins sit around watching porn and the guy who can refrain from rubbing his rod to sploogation the longest gets to nail a porn star. The column focuses on Herb, a 23-year-old cheesecake distributor (what?) and contestant for whom Peyser has an odd, but obvious attraction. In a poignant moment, Herb notes that while shooting his virginity into a Vivid vixen would be grand, "any old girl would do." (You can almost feel The Peys considering it!) But we veer into pure creepiness at the column's close: "Maybe we should look for the show on pay-per-view. I'd pay to see Herb get what's coming to him." Okay, we finally know what kind of porn Peyser goes for: clean and quick. Not much of a surprise, actually.
Taking 'Drea to task for employing hyperbole is, of course, like spanking a fish for swimming. That being said, though, we were a little taken aback when we came to this line in today's column (a celebration of Kevin Federline's parental skills):
As we mentioned yesterday, the whole 'Trump threatens to fire, then pardons Miss USA' story is basically the definition of week-before-Xmas filler, but we don't mind stooping to cover it. And neither, thank god, does Andrea Peyser. The Post's resident moral authority is always at her best when a young, attractive, "fire-breathing slut" needs to be run out of town, and boozy Tara inspired what we think is some of her finest work ever:
Post outrage monitor Andrea Peyser, covering yesterday's Sean Bell protest outside the Queens courthouse, noted what a total failure the event was: there were "less than two-dozen protesters." Whatever your feelings about the Bell case, you've got to admit that it's a shockingly small number; a miniscule crowd like that must mean that there's no real support in the community for the protesters' aims. Well, unless those aims somehow coincide with Peyser's. Take, for instance, the recent gathering against illegal immigrants in tribute to slain actress Adrienne Shelly:
"All satire is blind to the forces liberated by decay. Which is why total decay has absorbed the forces of satire." — Theodor Adorno
Dear Andrea,
We understand why you found it irresistibly tempting to lampoon poor Lindsay Lohan's rambling, cokey missive in your column today. But in doing so, you learned something that we've known for a while: some things are so over the top, so inherently comedic, that they defy the satirist to make anything more of them than they already are. Don't get us wrong: we're not saying that we never make the mistake you made. We make it all the time! But when we do, we employ a couple of tactics that keep our posts from coming off as (quite) as hamhanded and dashed-off as your column. Here's an example of where you went wrong:
As the hours tick by, more evidence of Andrea Peyser's not-so-hidden drinking problem is piling up. If you read yesterday's column about Barack Obama, you may have read that the senator from Illinois "is a rock star with a megawatt smile who admits he inhaled." Or, you may have learned that "Barack Obama, the presidential contender with the 'Say What?' name and megawatt smile, came out last night to electrify New York. He stuck his finger in the socket instead." Hmm. How confusing! Does she love Barack Obama, or does she hate him?
Nutty Post scourge Andrea Peyser's column today about Russell Simmons' icky endorsement of the diamond mining industry, which he calls "99 3/4%" clean, seems unusually . . . inspired. Seriously, you have to respect a writer who can continually froth with outrage and also come up with turns of phrase like this one:
Remember the battle against "alien predators" that protestors were planning to wage in the wake of indie actress Adrienne Shelly's tragic murder? Today, Andrea Peyser upgrades the situation to an "alien war." Grab your rayguns!
Bless her little heart, that thoughtful Andrea Peyser is standing up for our right to finally find out who killed Nicole Brown and Ron Goldman. "Almost alone," with only the backing of a major media conglomerate behind her, Andrea had defended "media punching bag" Judith Regan from the slings and arrows of her unjust attackers, who were obvs driven by "petty jealousy." But alas, her efforts have come to naught! The show and book have been shelved, and now we won't ever have any idea who committed those murders.
Wait a minute. What's that you say? You feel reasonably sure that you already know the killer's identity? Ha, ohhhkay, Mr. Jumpin' to Conclusions! Andrea Peyser would prefer to withhold her judgment until she's had a chance to view a lucrative sweeps-week televised interview with the accused, and she's not the only one:
News comes today (via the Daily News, natch) that nine Fox affiliates are refusing to show Judith Regan's OJ interview. Last week, Bill O'Reilly came out against the interview and book, promising never again to buy a product from any of the interview's sponsors. Fellow Fox "journalist" Geraldo Rivera joined O'Reilly in lambasting the interview, saying "I will bash this project every minute I have the opportunity to bash this project."
Post scourge Andrea Peyser, however, is sticking by her employer's guns:
Andrea Peyser is pissed off. She's usually angry about something, but today what's got her knickers in a twist (sorry for that mental image) is the naming of the new stadium in which the Mets will play. As is so often the case in the sporting world these days, the Mets have sold naming rights to a corporation. This does not sit well at all with Ms. P.
When it was announced yesterday that the Post had finally overtaken the News in circulation, we expressed our fervent hopes that the latter would celebrate its victory in a gracious, restrained manner; those hopes were quickly dashed. Comes today's Post, which, in addition to a two-page opening spread full of charts and graphs and gleeful cackling from Ed Koch, includes a four-page "souvenir pullout," featuring some of the paper's finest wood and an embarrassing encomium by Steve Cuozzo which actually compares the Post to the United States during the Cold War and ends with the line "The good guys won again." (You'll find it right after the article by Kevin Federline.) There's a lot to digest here, including the chart we've posted at right: We're just going to say that in our dictionary, "scourge" is defined as "a whip or lash, esp. for the infliction of punishment or torture." So, you know, they got something right.
Andrea Peyser is back on the Madonna beat, ripping the "sluttish superstar"'s recent Oprah appearance. Peyser, whose deep concern for all things African has been the main emphasis of her advocacy journalism lo these many years, has little sympathy for either Madge or Oprah ("For half an hour, one know-nothing celeb egged on another to spin a tale of saving the African continent. Disgusting.") but she's particularly offended by what she sees as Madonna's condescension towards her recently-adopted child's father:
Apparently upset by the choice of photo we used to accompany our mention of her "Madonna should disembowel herself" column yesterday, Andrea Peyser took herself down to Glamour Shots and sat for the portrait above. We're pleased to share it with our audience and offer an apology to Ms. Peyser: She is definitely Post columnist hot. Rowrr.
