After the jump, New York Times Publisher, Arthur Ochs Sulzberger, Jr., responds to the Judith Miller/Matthew Cooper verdict.

This week in New York's Look Book, we're treated to a stunning find: the rare and mysterious theater actress. (Oooh, aaah!) Sara Gettelfinger is currently performing Dirty Rotten Scoundrels with John Lithgow and, when she's not singing and dancing her way to Broadway stardom, she's stealing tote bags from her mom's closet. While we don't really fancy our mothers' Brighton bags, who are we to judge? After the jump, Intern Alexis rounds up the masculine trio of Adam Rathe, Tony Herman, and Frank Woodworth for some hard-hitting fashionalysis.

· Okay, this Judith Miller thing has gone too far. Remember this phrase, 'cause your kids are gonna read it in their history textbooks and ask you why the world was so fucked up before they were born: "There is no First Amendment privilege protecting the evidence sought." [AFP, Yahoo]

Gosh, we almost missed it! Adam Moss' one year anniversary at the helm of New York Magazine, that is!

Heartfelt "Get Well Soon" sentiments to Doonesbury creator Gary Trudeau, who will be out of commission for six to eight weeks after his skiing accident last week. According to The Times 'Arts, Briefly,' that means reprints will run in place of his syndicated comic strip.

IWantMedia runs Michael Wolff's opening address from the 2005 SIIA Information Industry Summit in New York. Since the Michael Wolff fansites have been abuzz and our inbox is flooded with thousands of requests to run an exceprt, here's a selection wherein Wolff dissects how The Wall Street Journal went from the best paper in the country to irrelevant:

Drudge Report

Hey, Details, can you hear us? Stay away from the light, Jane! W, you have GOT to hang in there — don't give up on us now! Not to overreact, but we're rather concerned for the well-being of Fairchild employees after they endured their own St. Valentine's Day Massacre. A concerned insider reports on the collective psychosis:

We must've snoozed on this yesterday, but here's a bit of helpful service journalism from this week's Times Magazine. Power Napping, the Roger Ebert Way:

"Daddy, what were The Gates?"

This week, the NYTBR sexes things up a bit with something we can all appreciate: Iranian hummers (politically sensitive and V-day appropriate)! Once Intern Alexis took a cold shower, she tackled the rest of the review, only to find that white-collar beasts have rendered the pages inaccessible to pleb readers. After the jump, her fight for class justice and musings on the evil of Jonathan Lethem.

Lloyd Grove reports on the seemingly one-sided dispute between the authors of the inexplicably popular women's self-help book He's Just Not That Into You and the author and publisher of the rebuttal, Be Honest—You're Not That Into Him Either.

This week, New York runs an excerpt from James Atlas' forthcoming memoir My Life in the Middle Ages: A Survivor's Tale, all about a subject very close to the author's heart: failure. Particularly the sort of failure that befalls a Harvard-educated, former staff writer for TIME, editor for The New York Times Magazine, head of his own book imprint, National Book Award nominee, esteemed biography of Saul Bellow who live on the Upper West Side. Yeah, you know the kind of failure we can all identify with.

Your point?

We would answer that question, but our posts have a limited word count. But send yours and we'll post 'em.

Man, someone at The Post wants to nail Christ-loving former copy editor Dawn Eden (despite her vow of chastity).

Here's why at least one publicist has to be present when a celebrity is interviewed. In the February issue of Allure, The O.C.'s Mischa Barton participates in a look back at her many public appearances and offers such sensitive reflections as:

New York, are you bipolar? How else to explain the very strange juxtaposition of book reviews in this week's issue?

Good old Andrea. Just when you start to think that The Post's hard-hitting harpy might be going soft, she finds a new straw man to shred:

Because the Times simply will not allow you to forget that today is Valentine's Day, a rundown of the romantic inundation that should have every single girl on suicide watch: