Doesn't matter what town we're in, my friend Chris Tucker always knows where the best dim sum is.
— Black Larry King (@BlackLarryKing) February 3, 2014
A friend of mine suggested that BuzzFeed deputy editor-in-chief Shani O. Hilton was harboring the identity of the genius behind @BlackLarryKing, the quietly funny, under-the-radar account. “I think Shani knows but she refuses to admit it,” she told me a few days ago. My editor, when we talked about interviewing Black Larry King, wrote back: “Shani claims not to know but I dunno if I believe her.” Others think Ms. Hilton might actually be BLK. “We are onto you,” [...]
Todd Akin, call your office. http://t.co/ZkwFPZRD
— The Fix (@TheFix) August 19, 2012
Doug Band, call your office. http://t.co/ebaQQfsjby
— The Fix (@TheFix) September 23, 2013
Haley Barbour, call your office. http://ht.ly/4egEP (Hat tip @benpolitico)
— The Fix (@TheFix) March 14, 2011
Georgetown basketball, call your office. http://t.co/YsAFuYfZ
— The Fix (@TheFix) November 30, 2012
Michael Bloomberg, call your office. http://t.co/iTOIuCEB
— The Fix (@TheFix) January 28, 2013
Cory Booker, call your office. http://t.co/GBpXAk1cpU
— The Fix (@TheFix) August 29, 2013
Scott Brown, call your office. http://t.co/RAU7Yj1s
— The [...]
William Shawn began work at The New Yorker in 1933, was appointed managing editor in 1939 and, quite shortly after the death of founding editor Harold Ross, became the magazine's editor in 1951.
In 1985, 34 years later, Shawn was still the editor, but Peter Fleischmann, the son of founding partner Raoul Fleischmann, owned only 25% of shares in The New Yorker. Paine Webber owned the next largest share, and the Newhouse family's Advance Publications already owned around 17% of the publication. Advance wanted, and got, the rest, for a price something like 20 times current revenues, according to the Times.
The employees, however, were not happy [...]
Last week, David Grann and I met in his office at The New Yorker, in midtown Manhattan. It is a glorious fire hazard because he doesn't throw anything away. Grann has been a staff writer at the magazine since 2003 and published two books, the enthralling The Lost City of Z, and The Devil and Sherlock Holmes, a collection of his reportage. Stacks of papers related to finished stories ("That's Z, that's Cuba, that's Willingham…") line the walls, while the floor is devoted to a book-in-progress, as yet untitled, on the Osage Indian murders and the birth of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.
For fans, a new [...]
It sounds preposterous, and it is. But the story of Esquire's grand plan to shoot a bevy of distinguished men and women in the altogether is, so far as I know, true. Here's the first paragraph of the unbylined, unheadlined story from the February 1970 edition of The Los Angeles Advocate:
Amazing! But how is it possible there is no record of these scandalous plans, save for a microfilm'd squib in a West Coast gay rag? (Go ahead and look. You will find nothing.) Before consigning this to the realm of the urban legend—albeit a legend that no one seems to know—I ran it by Gerald Clarke, Capote's [...]
I think I’d have gone mad.1 I’d probably be in prison or dead.2 I'd always look like someone out of Middle-earth.3
I’d be a lawyer.4 I’d be an event planner.5 I’d be a hypnotist, like Paul McKenna.6 I'd be a surgeon, like my dad.7
I would have been a journalist.8 I would have been a photographer.9
If you try to use booze to solve a problem,
One day you're gonna discover that you have two problems.1 It's one hell of a double act.2
People talk about the joy of sex,
But it don't last nothin' like shootin' anvils.3 When they lay you on the table, better keep your business clean.4
If it’s out there, it’s in here.5
Show me a love story and I'll show you a tragedy.6 Eternal vigilance is where it’s at.7