We write lots of mean things about lots of people we'd love to see get some comeuppance. We run lots of leaked memos and internal communications, some of them rather embarrassing to the company from which they were leaked. What's truly remarkable is that someone was just moments ago fired — and it's someone we very much like — over an item that wasn't mean, that didn't attempt to deliver any comeuppance, and was in no way embarrassing to the company from which it was leaked.

Crisis at 4 Times Square!

• We're not sure what's more disturbing: Heidi Klum's poor little baby, or the fact that In Touch is an international publication. [The Superficial]
• Jon Fine eagerly waves his hand, screams, "Pick me! Pick me!" in an effort to get a screenwriting gig on the inevitable Judy Miller/Valerie Flame movie. [FineOnMedia]
• Manhattan is the most expensive place in the United States. Also, bear shits in woods. [CNN]
• High-profile media mogul seeks submissive gimp for office play fantasies. [Craigslist]

Holy shit, did you hear? Publishers are "confident," perhaps with no good reason whatsoever! To wit: Hearst and Conde Nast have given the big, gay green light to two test titles, Weekend and Men's Vogue, respectively, which are soon to be regular fixtures in your monthly newsstand scowlathon.

Oh, those poor, pretty girls over at Vogue. We want to help them, really, because they need it. In the latest issue, they used the photo at right to accompany a review of Zadie Smith's On Beauty — sadly, the woman in the picture is not Zadie Smith.

• Times reporter Judith Miller is finally released from jail, coming home to an awkward office party with cake and ice cream.
• Network morning shows compete for ratings and saved seats in heaven.
• Jon Stewart gives his two cents — and then some — on the squalid state of magazines.
• Conde Nast and Fairchild start to sleep in the same bed, Details finds itself but not its readers, and Vitals is anything but.
• Anti-everything novelist Jonathan Franzen tries to destroy any remaining hope you might have for creative literature.
• Comments get fiery over the sexuality of CNN's Anderson Cooper; we lose sleep over the implication of being a "power bottom."
• Predictably, coked-up supermodel Kate Moss enters rehab.
• And, last but certainly not least, New Yorkers are screwed when it comes to emergency management.

Notes an emailer from within 4 Times Square:

One day after the big Conde Nast-is-all-one-company announcement — which, when it broke, seemed to have few practical effects beyond some title changes and new letterhead designs — the first shoe drops. The Conde Nast division once and still known as Fairchild Publications said this afternoon that it will shutter Vitals Men and Vitals Women, the shopping magazine launched a year ago and sixth months ago, respectively, and which always seemed a touch redundant with Conde's Cargo and Lucky.

The new Details is out, and — who'd have thunk it — it's the mag's fifth anniversary issue. Well, it's not the fifth anniversary of the magazine, exactly, but the fifth anniversary of this iteration of the magazine. And it seems like just yesterday this version was born. Where does time go?

Hey, SAG-card holding starfuckers, we've got some great news for you! The film adaptation of Lauren Weisberg's inside-Vogue roman clef, The Devil Wears Prada, is casting:

In front of 4 Times Square earlier today:

There's a major reorganization afoot today in Newhouseland — one that, best we can tell, doesn't really change much of anything.

Reports a pal from within 4 Times Sqaure today:

• Bill Keller only learned of impending staff cutbacks on Friday. [E&P]
• Staff cuts, TimesSelect hiccups, Alessandra Stanley, and now this: S&P downgrades Times Co.'s debt. [NYP]
• Time Warner, like a battered wife stuck in an abusive relationship, now insists it likes AOL again. [NYT]
• Conde brass swears that editor Ariel Foxman isn't about to be canned from Cargo. [WWD]
• Denton tells Adam Penenberg there isn't much profit potential in blogs. Then he lights a fresh cigar with a $100 bill. [Wired News]

Our man in China sends the above photo and reports:

They're getting so used to moving publishers around at Si Newhouse's magazine companies that now they can do it virtually in their sleep. Chris Mitchell, publisher of Details since April 2004, quit Wednesday to go make furniture. Already there's a replacement: Paul Jowdy, who's moving from the associate publisher position at Vanity Fair.

Outside the Conde Nast Building earlier this afternoon:

The Washington Post's Magazine Reader, Peter Carlson, takes a look today at Men's Vogue, and it seems he — how to put this gently? — despises it and all it represents.

• Steve Fishman reconstructs and deconstructs the entire relationship between Lachlan Murdoch and Rupert, determining that Lach left because dad wouldn't let him be his own man. [NY Mag]
• Anderson Cooper, meanwhile, remains inscrutable — about his job, about his sex life, about where to have lunch — while everyone just keeps loving him more. [NY Mag]
• Everyone, that is, except Franklin Foer, who finds him "a Yale-educated Geraldo Rivera." [TNR]
• Celebrity Living, which apparently wasn't really a gossip mag before, now is. [WWD]
• Enjoying the VMAs with celebs' favorite celeb photographer. [Slate]
• The new business mag for Conde could be what InStyle was for Time Inc., says David Carr. [NYT]
• OK America!'s editor eats at the Olive Garden. Gasp. [The Observer (London)]

Vogue editor Anna Wintour and her latest houseboy, Men's Vogue editor Jay Fielden, descended upon Matt Lauer this morning for a little chit-chat about Men's Vogue. After clarifying that gay men are really what industry insiders call "fashion customers," Anna Wintour lobbed the ball over to Fielden, whose mouth moved so very little while speaking that we'd wager he may have had his jaw wired shut (which would explain his trim figure). We can't really defend this comment, but he really just seemed like an asshole. But more importantly, Fielden was so clearly terrified — not of being on tv, but of Wintour — that, from here on out, Men's Vogue shall now be referred to as Little Bitch's Vogue.