TVNewser has the scoop on CNN s American Morning co-host, the one and only Bill Hemmer. Hemmer, it seems, is having problems getting his New York job moved to D.C. (There are still summer internships available, no?) Reports the Newser:
You know how those media bitches are when they get gossipy: Everyone's two steps away from getting axed — hell, Bazaar editor Glenda Bailey has been "so totally on her way out" since 1984. So when people chatter about Vanity Fair editor Graydon Carter, we don't really pay attention. But, if they chatter about Carter and his media whoring houseboy Michael Wolff? We'll take out our overpriced earbuds and listen.
· Radar was just helping Nick Denton with his eating disorder.
As part of its continuing, multi-part, in-depth, expose on the roots of Upper West Side liberal guilt, the folks over at the Times website put together a handy to guide to "class." (Don't worry, it's free.) The "Interactive Graphic" tells you how much money you should be making, had you made at least one smart career choice in your life. It's a particularly good reminder to young media professionals. Get out now. The LSATS aren't that hard. Trust us. -KEW
Sometimes (well, actually, all the time) we read the Huffington Post and, after about three sentences from Dannielle Crittendon or, worse, Harry Shearer, our eyes glaze over and we begin humming and rocking back and forth and then everything goes gray and we wake up wrapped in clean, white sheets. Oh, you too? Glad it's not just us. Thankfully, our favoritest HuffPoster Greg Gutfeld has done us all a favor:
For whatever revealingly sad reason, Lloyd Grove felt it necessary to close out today's column by reminding his readers of his existence. Like an ignored child that'll do just about anything to get your attention, Grove rattles off a convenient list of his Lowdown exclusives, just in case, you know, someone doesn't want to renew his contract recall his big scoops.
Fresh daisies, it's Friday! Wait a second...That looks like Rupert Murdoch! Or does he only wear Underoos? -KEW
Time for some closure to our internal investigation of who said what to whom about stuff related to things in respect to The Great PieGate of 2005. Last night, we reported that at the Radar party, a pie aimed at Nick Denton's head missed its target, thus only "grazing" his hair. The pictures, however, tell another story, and now 17 bloggers have died in subsequent riots.
Go ahead and act surprised: Jon Landman has finally bid adieu to the Gray Lady and is stepping down as Culture editor (or, if you prefer, he has gone to the nondescript land of "masthead," where his next position has not been annouced). His replacement? None other than Sam Sifton, formerly of the Dining section. Why Sam? Well, for starters, he's "coherent," and he can "make you laugh," even when he's firing you because your stories are too damn long! Assuming an "enlarged deputy" role (which sounds rather naughty) is Sam's partner, Jim Schachter. After the jump, the memo from Times editor Bill Keller, who's positively delighted to see a deal cut months ago finally take shape.
I've reached my emotional tipping point:
·Is print dying? Yes? No? Maybe? The sooner the better? The Wall Street Journal weighs in. [WSJ via Romenesko]
·Finally! We can waste money on eBay without leaving the sofa. [Mediaweek]
·Plimpton prot g Brigid Hughes (aka, the editor who got sacked from The Paris Review a couple months back) plans to start new literary magazine, A Public Space. Apparently Hughes enjoys something called "fiction" and "poetry." [ CBC via Media Bistro]
Recall: Sly Stallone has a new magazine. Its editorial staff is the same as Men s Fitness, based out of New York. (You don t have a subscription? Freak.) And, we re told, Sly is quite the hands on Editorial Director. He writes almost 80 percent of the copy in the magazine, most on a reporter s tablet, then faxes the barely legible pages to his "editors." Once deciphered, his words go in, mostly untouched. [Ed-Would you touch his copy? The dude is freaking Rocky.] Forget the writing, though. Sly s pic is on every fourth page. Seriously. We don't know what to make of it either. -KEW
Maer Roshan and Nick Denton share a disturbingly intimate moment.
Because we really can't imagine what thing's must've been like at last night's Radar launch party (actually, we can, as we did experience life as an 8th-grader), we're going to let pie-eyed Gawker publisher Nick Denton tell the story in his own words. After the jump, the blog queen speaks with photography by Nikola Tamindzic.
After making the top of the list for two days now, we have to wonder if the elusive Times' exploration of the elusive ladytickle has helped just one woman live the dream. And, if so, we're totally back on the dating market.
America's Continuing Love Affair With The Female Orgasm Continues [Roving Flashlight]
· Good Morning America, Today, tomato, tomahtoe. Everyone's fighting over who's more popular, proving our theory that media is just like high school with more money. [Page Six]
· The mayoral candidates will do anything to make you care about this whole election thingie, even if it means having Lindsay Lohan possibly appear at Gifford Miller's fundraiser. [Lowdown]
· It's funny what a little legal threat can do: Facing a lawsuit from the William Morris Agency for running unsavory items, Page Six kisses and makes up by telling of how happy all the (bloodthirsty) agents are these days. [Page Six]
· Charlie Sheen gets over Denise Richards rather quickly; Jon Cryer's arms are rather warm and inviting, aren't they? [R&M]
We don t envy writers who have to scribble away in the shadows of their superstar parents. (See: Amis, Martin; Bellow, Adam.) Actually, we re lying. They get book deals! We're so sick with envy we can t even finish our own "works in progress." Which takes us to Brooklyn-resident Owen King, son of Stephen. Owen s book — "a novella and other stories" — comes out in July. We assume it's really good, accepted on merit alone. 'Cause as the press release notes:
A cry for help from a confused reader has us thinking it's high time we used the Gawker Community for a good cause, like deciphering the nuances of the Condé Nast underworld. As such, we present the mystery of Plum Sykes' mailbox:
