In your finally Friday media column: newspaper circulation wanes, a brilliant plan to avoid reporters, the News Corp board battle continues, Fox News people are bad liars, and Nancy Franklin's replacement.

America loves having its movies and television shows recapped, reviewed, and regurgitated back to them, but the one thing that it hates more and more is having the events of those things spoiled by reviewers. It's time for a guide on what constitutes a spoiler and what does not.

We were drawn in by New York's new article, "This Old Sperm: Do Cougars Have the Smartest Kids." Who would have thought it was lamentation against sensationalistic science journalism?

Oh, the plaintive tweets about New York's lousy weather! And yet the media elite remained so addicted to Twitter they took off their mittens to overinform the world.

Maybe it's the approximately 417 vodka sodas I swilled last night for no good reason, but is New York's Sarah Jessica Parker/Sex and the City piece the most mesmerizingly insane thing ever or what? Emily Nussbaum strolls the streets of the West Village with the teeny tiny television star, gushing about how she is charmingly strange and thoughtful, how noble and free her spirit is. I have to question the decision-making behind assigning such an ardent fan of the actress and her highly influential show to this particular task. Nussbaum's greatest criticism seems to be that Carrie maybe pursued Big for his money. That's it! In a seven-internet-pages-long article, given the great and fascinating topic of how this particular television program (and upcoming movie) came to define this city, in many ways, more powerfully than any other bit of culture in recent memory, Nussbaum bares no teeth, questions no stereotype or bit of calculated misinformation. She simply brags to us that they're hanging out. And that's exhausting and sad and pathetic. What a fumble. Or, I don't know, something about tumbling on high heels. Some choice quotes from the article after the jump.

I'm crouched awkwardly on the floor of Xiyin Tang's Columbia dorm room, peering up at her laptop as she shows me her first blog entries, a 13-year-old Xiyin's musings on Good Charlotte and the perfidy of her friends. A Warhol Marilyn print gazes over our shoulders. "I always find myself more motivated to write things," Xiyin, now 19, explains, "when I know that somebody, somewhere, might be reading it."