The step between beatification and sainthood: become a David Rees clip-art character. Gotta figure that takes some of the sting out of losing that Sunday op-ed spot.
Get Your Thomas Friedman On [NYPress]
Flathead: The peculiar genius of Thomas L. Friedman [NYPress]

The blogger at The Bruni Digest delights in weekly critiques of NYT food critic Frank Bruni's restaurant reviews. Today, she imagines the scenario that could play out after Bruni said yesterday of chef Laurent Tourondel's BLT Fish restaurant, [BLT Fish] has the flexibility of a yogi master, the balance of a Romanian gymnast":

This afternoon, shareholders at Dow Jones & Co. approved a measure giving the Bancroft family more control over the company. The move confirms something most folks have known for awhile: the Wall Street Journal is, uh, pretty freaking screwed these days.

Wouldn't it be funny if the one edgy, non-vicious robot at Vogue, senior fashion editor Camilla Nickerson, left to go to Vogue's main competitor? And wouldn't it be crazy if Anna Wintour went batshit insane with fear over the loss of her coolest employee? We can't imagine what fear looks like on the face of Ms. Wintour, but we're glad to be far from 42nd Street today.

Not that we'd ever dwell, but we just wanted to bring up that UK interview with Drudge:

Are literary blogs poised to reinvigorate book sales? Seems like a lot to ask from a few erudite folks who happen to like getting drunk together, but, hey, whatever works. The Voice's Joy Press looks at the power of lit blogs to move merchandise, calling out the Litblog Co-Op, a book blogger collective that aims to elevate four otherwise-obscure books a year above the remainder bin.

This morning's media parlor game: can the Observer's Gabriel Sherman get NYT op-ed columnist Maureen Dowd to admit she's pissed that one of her two weekly columns was bumped from Sunday to the ghetto-circulation hell of Saturday in the recent op-ed shuffle? Let's tune in and find out!

We were reading Joe Hagan's column in the Observer today, but we got stuck on the first few sentences:

After yesterday's item about author Jonathan Safran Foer's meta-interview with the Morning News, the emails rolling into Gawker HQ confirmed one thing: there's no such thing as too much JSF. In the momentary absence of a new JSF interview this morning, it will have to suffice to return to the faux-Foer blog, where faux-Foer lashes back at Steve Almond's recent takedown of the vrai-Foer's new novel:

We hear...

· The Times thanks Terri Schiavo for record high page views in March; no word yet on feeding-tube free April. [mediaweek]
· Page Six uses Jane Fonda threesomes as excuse to abuse Daily News; calls Hud Morgan a "lackey," perhaps in response to Hud recently calling Page Six "gangsters." [Page Six]
· Martha Stewart inks deal with Sirius Satellite Radio, giving listeners another reason to choose XM. [NYT]
· Jack Shafer on Jim Romenesko; Romenesko links to himself via Shafer in sidebar. [Slate]

In this week's edition of the Look Book, New York magazine abandons the "commoners" in favor of a bona fide fashionista, designer Cynthia Rowley. Rowley loves to wear some of her older clothes, which she likens to putting "defibrillator paddles on an old black dress." To comment on Rowley's defibrillator paddles are back-alley fashion consultants Lauren Mechling, Brian Ulicky, and Suzie Lee. Their analysis of Rowley's je ne sais quoi follows.

When former Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist Sydney Schanberg was named the Voice's new Press Clips writer a few weeks back, replacing Jarret Murphy, he promised to bring a fresh energy to the task despite his age (71 years young!). The proof is in the pudding this week:

Behold the tools of literary genius.
We interrupt today's PopeWatch to bring you the latest in our ongoing coverage of the Power Potties of the rich and famous. Today a daring correspondent delves into the 69th Street powder room/crapper of famed writer Erica Jong, author of the erotic classic Fear of Flying. The only fear in Jong's bathroom, our spy discovers, is that of having more than two square inches of available counter space. After the jump, our unauthorized documentation of the hygenic habits of the rich and famous.

Recall the sad story of Stephanie Green, a former Star researcher denied her shot at Devil Wears Prada fame/glory/royalties? Last fall, the Star's parent company, American Media, sued to stop her from selling her media memoir of a outlandish, totally fictional editor-in-chief named Bonnie Fuller Penny Saxe. Today, WWD reports the suit has been dismissed, freeing Green to start shopping the 300-page tome. Agents, start your engines.
Freedom of Spoof [WWD]
Previously: Bonnie Fuller Probably Hates Books [Gawker]

Readers have been quick to defend Margaret Atwood after her recent literary blackout: she was only admiring her shoes, she likes listening with her eyes closed, she huffs copious amounts of paint thinner, she's Canadian — of course she's going to be boring. (Sorry, Ottawa!) But an astute member of the literati offered the best excuse on Atwood's behalf: the author is exhausted because she hasn't yet perfected her wacky virtual-autograph-signing robot. Per the New Yorker:

At The Morning News, Robert Birnbaum catches up with w nderkind literary recluse Jonathan Safran Foer in the first extensive JSF interview we've seen since at least Saturday. In the course of 15,000-odd words, the duo embark on an increasingly bizarre meditation on the future of the written word. It begins:

Actually, we call it the Hitchens Effect (editing heds while very, very drunk).

I just wanted to reiterate something from yesterday's fabu little Drudge interview: