This whole Rob Ford thing has been completely entertaining

But it hasn’t been perfect. I keep feeling like people are missing the boat on some real journalistic gimmes.

For instance, the other day, Rob Ford denied harassing a staffer about eating her pussy by “wittily” telling his accusers, “I have plenty to eat at home.” You’d think that alone was bad enough, but you’d be wrong. That’s just the first of the one-two, and everyone missed on part two.

Because any Toronto tabloid or alt weekly worth its salt should have immediately laid out the headline, “ROB FORD SAYS WIFE HAS FAT PUSSY.”

Because Rob Ford deserves to get beaten up at home too.

I keep remembering this 1990-ish ‘60 Minutes’ interview with the creators of Mad Magazine

Morley Safer or Harry Reasoner or some other yellow-eyed liver-spotted 60 Minutes correspondent does his job, straight-manning through the interview. Toward the end, he asks, “What’s the hardest part of putting Mad Magazine together?” 

And the eyes of one writer/editor widen in total incredulity before he answers with that high-school tone you always had when you thought the answer in your head couldn’t be the answer because it was so simple,

"Stapling it." 

Thanks, Salon! or, ‘Here Are Some of the Worst Sentences Ever Written’

All of these are from Salon's routinely shitty Mad Men recapper:

"Not just the hand that fed the agency, but the hand that holds the cigarette we might assume, as SCDP’s former lucky strike turns into a match that could burn down the house."

"Stan grumps that her opinion shouldn’t count more just because she’s a “boob-carrying consumer” (as opposed to a consuming boob like him). But in fact, bras will soon be even less popular with young women than beans, so I award Peggy the winner’s cup in this round."

"In this fish tale, the genders are moving up and down like parallel elevators in the Time-Life building, the workplace that consumes so much of their lives they barely can escape it for a meal that doesn’t involve business – and in this episode, not even for that. But this show is about time and life – the time in these characters’ lives, and the times they’re living in. Unfortunately for them, few seem to be having the time of their lives."

For all those worried that these might go on forever, remember: SUMER IS ICUMEN IN.

C-List Critics Slapfight

Slate published an article last week titled, “Overrated: authors, critics and editors on ‘Great Books’ that aren’t all that great.” I don’t know the author, Juliet Lapidos, but there are two main problems with her list. First, her definition of “great books” seems at once misguided and charitable. Second, the “takedowns” are dreadfully limp and banal.

She takes issue with “several works” on the Modern Library’s Top 100 list. That list is chosen [on the basis of] publicity, sales and an insanely ridiculous voting system and absolutely nothing to do with greatness. So she’s underwhelmed by something underwhelming, which is basically saying less than nothing. If her goal is to ruffle some feathers, why attack a pigeon? Fucking go for it. Take on one of the great dead birds of literature: call Jane Austen the Judy Blume of the 19th century.

Read More Here…

Here is the funniest part of todays NYT op-ed by Paul Krugman:

From the very end:

Making nebulous calls for centrism, like writing news reports that always place equal blame on both parties, is a big cop-out — a cop-out that only encourages more bad behavior. The problem with American politics right now is Republican extremism, and if you’re not willing to say that, you’re helping make that problem worse.

David Brooks is off today.

I’m trying to imagine how Charles Krauthammer could be of use to anybody.

Like, is he a husband? Is he a parent? Is there someone who needs him somehow?

I just don’t think it’s possible.

The only extreme outlier I can even conceive of is his stumbling into a room and some parents grabbing his face and then their child and saying, “YES! See, this is what we meant when we were describing No Man’s Land during World War One.”

A Century of Despair Doesn’t Make You Interesting

The enduring palliative of the Cubs fan is that baseball needs the Cubs fan, celebrates the Cubs fan and is metaphysically enriched for being proximate to the Cubs fan. The Cubs fan is a narcissistic boor.

This history of the last year in which the Cubs earned a championship not only tweaks the volubly agonized Cubs fan but also describes a baseball world lost to the ages. It’s violent, controversial, stupid and totally, totally baseball.

It’s totally worth reading.

As a term, “Dad Rock” is conceptual bullshit.

imageIt’s the ultimate in condemnatory shorthand for music ostensibly appealing to those who are unserious about challenging their tastes and horizons, music whose appeal is as much based on prospective listeners knuckling under to critical/commercial legacy and processed nostalgia as it is on their discovering art that speaks to them. Pillorying that sort of decision-making and horizon-defining is perfectly fine. But as a term, it’s conceptual bullshit. Dad Rock is as migratory as “hipness” or “alternative,” a definition that, unmoored to any sense of time or a body of current work, makes almost zero sense.

Click here to read more.