The New York Times steps into the blogging fray with dispatches from Cannes. Happy as we are to find the folks at 43rd Street entering this brave new world, we're upset to see that they're not exactly getting down with the whole spirit of the medium:
It's day four of the nation's most exciting experiment in bloggery ever! To save you time, a quick recap of what's happening at The Huffington Post: David Mamet is magnanimous about an old foe, Sherry Lansing has some free time on her hands and wants to teach your kids how to greenlight remakes; Norman Lear is still, as of 1:02 A.M., alive. AB
Morbidly obese municipal union leader Mark Rosenthal, not pictured at right because we couldn't find a photo small enough, showed up at City Hall yesterday with a request: Pass legislation that would require city hospitals and ambulances to be better equipped to deal with the massively overweight. We've no interest in debating whether or not our critical care facilities should be taken out a little to accommodate the Twinkie-eating machines who clog our streets every day or if that money might be better used to provide some sort of citywide jaw-wiring program; what we find fascinating about this story is the way its coverage so perfectly encapsulates the four area papers' personalities. Below, heds for each: Try guessing which comes from where. (If you get all four, reward yourself with Hardee's Thickburger , and don't worry about the extra pounds: SUV-sized ambulances are on the way!) AB
Good news for all you parents out there with preternaturally greedy children: Apprentice winner Bill Rancic has signed a deal with Penguin to write a children's book! According to the press release, Beyond the Lemonade Stand is an advice book for children ages 8-12 who are looking to get ahead. It will offer guidelines on how to be successful, ethical, and profitable in business. The book will also contain anecdotes from business leaders, 'Apprentice' cast members, and business-savvy kids who all lend guidance to business-minded children already thinking of how to make 'money, money, money, money'
MBToolbox notes what might add up to a disturbing new movement in news photo selection: "Are news outlets lately purposefully running the craziest-looking photos of subjects whose mental facilities have been called into question?" While we're still waiting to see if a bona fide trend alert is in order, we have to assume the bug-eyed bride has moved a lot of papers for the Post, as that damn picture has been on their front page something like 452 times. We can only hope unflattering pics of Dave Chappelle have the same power.
After eight months of quasi-genius insight into the life of a wannabe rockstar, The Morning News Williamsburg correspondent Paul Ford Gary Benchley has called it quits, and it's not because Paul Gary's become a major rock star (although he does insist that he's on the precipice of fame). Rather, Paul Ford Gary Benchley has done what any internerdy writer would: He's abandoned the column so that it can be used to fluff up his book deal with Penguin's Plume Books. This sort of move, you realize, is dictated by the rules of the internet.
Radarradararadar... radar. RADAR. radar, radar, radar? radar! radar Radar RADAR radararararadar radar #$%^&*(*&^% radar. Radar; radar radar radar. radar. Radar. Radar. Radar...RADARR, radar, RADAR-RADAR. Radar, Radar, radar radar *W#&$ radar radar radar radar radarradarradar radar radar. DARRAD? rraaddaarr. Radar RADAR radar radar, rAdAr, radar, radar; radar. Radar? Radar? Radar? Radar. RadaRadaRadaRadaRadaRadaR... r. a. d. a. r.! %&@*&*&! raaa daaa rrrr. Radar! Radar! Radar-Radar, radar, RaDaR, radar! radarradarradarradar. rad dar. dar rad. radar.
While we're theoretically in favor of dosing the entire Slate staff with a cocktail of amphetamines (anything that forces Jack Shafer to focus can only be a net plus), we're slightly concerned about the recent experiment that the youngest member of The Fantastic Foers performed with Adderall. We have no doubts that young Josh can handle his meds (although we're troubled by how quickly he seems to lose the euphoria of the drug; here's a hint, Josh: crush and snort), but we're not sure the powers that be over at Slate thought through the ethical implications of providing Foer with a powerful mental stimulant, i.e., What if he tells his brother about it? AB
Lest you think the few remaining staffers on the Circuits desk are listless and lethargic after their recent reduction surgery, the front page of today's short section (it's buried in the back of Business; look closely, it's there) alerts you to a new trend sweeping the nation: Podcasting! Color us unimpressed: This story is so February 2005. AB
In their constant quest to make sure the Thursday Styles section keeps its emasculated edge, today's Times slaps us across the collective face with the one thing more gay than your habit of reading Details in leather chaps. Ladies and ladies, meet the $4,000 illegal housecat:
· Frank Bruni, skewered by his own quotes, then deconstructed and served on a bed of mockery.
· The effects of exhaustion take their toll on Lindsay Lohan and Nicole Richie. We can't even think of a good joke for this picture, as we're too busy developing a case of body dysmorphic disorder. [Defamer]
· When Babs Walters and Tom Brokaw air their upcoming stories on the New Life church, do remember that all churchgoers have been instructed to behave normally for the cameras. [Non-Prophet]
· We hear Kelly Ripa's publicist has been instructing photographers not to send any pics of Ripa to In Touch. What gives? Discuss.
Sometimes in the pursuit of a hearty chuckle a guest-editor-blogger goes a bit over the line, making a joke at the expense of a defenseless person who, no matter how frequent and frightening her e-mails are, has feelings and emotions just like the rest of us. It doesn't happen often but, when it does, it's time for that guest-editor-blogger to stand up and say, I'm sorry.
As annoyed as you may be by all of our Roshan-felching, allow us to tell you how truly terrible the situation is on our end: We just schlepped a promised bottle of champagne across town in return for a fucking copy of Radar. That's 40 minutes we will NEVER get back, and we're mighty pissed. We know, yes, that you never asked Gawker to go this far, but this is our personal Terri Schiavo, and we'll be outside the hospice until the cops send us home.
Yesterday's contretemps with Nikki Finke left us feeling a bit shaken up and singled out. But as it happens, Nikki is an equal-opportunity angry letter-writer. In response to her L.A. Weekly colleague Mark Cooper's criticism of her Huffington coverage, Ms. Finke responded with a ten-point pr cis establishing her credentials and questioning Cooper's ("a spineless coward," "lazy and boring," "you might want to get help.") We're not sure what to be more upset about, the fact that Ms. Finke clearly has her bonafides bit saved somewhere for instant reprisal messages (we're guessing she's got it templated in the F3 key or something), or the fact that Cooper got a much more detailed blastback than we did.
Breaking news in the long national nightmare that is Idolgate. Or Paulagate. Or whatever. Matt Drudge reports that Former AMERICAN IDOL contestant Corey Clark says he can prove his sex claims with Judge Paula Abdul — by identifying a "distinguishing characteristic" on Abdul's body. Loathe to find ourselves scooped on this issue, we did a little reporting of our own. A source close to Clark, on the condition of anonymity, revealed the secret to us: Her penis looks like a barber's pole. AB
The mystery deepens! A source close to Radar lets us know that the web site is really a ploy to lower expectations for the magazine Maer is that fucking brilliant. And it's working: We now expect the magazine to last for one issue instead of two! On the other hand, how are we to know whether or not this inside information isn't actually a ploy to lower expectations for the website? Who knew that launching a slightly hipper version of InTouch Weekly required so much subterfuge and intricacy? AB
