I can summarize the well-informed tripartite New York magazine cover story on Wall Street, while eliding all the details: pretty much no one learned anything, rich people really enjoying spending money, it's not unlikely there'll be a round two mortgage debacle, Wall Street is more consolidated than ever and poses a "greater systemic risk," we're off to enjoy/exploit the BRICs (and CIVETs and EAGLEs, et al), even though Goldman Sachs, among others, took a bath on them over the last few years, slightly fewer Harvard MBA graduates are going straight into Big Finance (they're all becoming consultants, which, same diff!), and lots of people on Wall [...]
Sarah Palin is displeased with New York magazine. In an interview with Mary Hart of "Entertainment Tonight," the former Alaska governor complains that restaurant critic Adam Platt "lacks the sparkle and wit of [predecessor] Gael Greene, and confuses didacticism for profound culinary insight… Platt seems to think that economical prose is the mise en place of proper food criticism, when, really, you want the ambiance and flavor to sing out from each walloping word." Kidding! She's actually upset with the current cover story, which is a silly piece about how she could be elected president. But wouldn't the other thing be kind of awesome?
The word is douche bag. Douche space bag. People will insist that it's one closed-up word-douchebag-but they are wrong. When you cite the dictionary as proof of the division, they will tell you that the entry refers to a product women use to clean themselves and not the guy who thinks it's impressive to drop $300 on a bottle of vodka. You will calmly point out that, actually, the definition in Merriam-Webster is "an unattractive or offensive person" and not a reference to Summer's Eve. They will then choose to ignore you and write it as one word anyway.
I know this because, during my three-plus years as [...]
"You schmoes of America, rally 'round your bard! You sad sacks in sweaters, undershirts untucked and dangling below your belts! You frustrated artists, you terrified fathers: Do not be ashamed of your increasing girth, your outré sexual fantasies, your rampant neck-beard. One lonely man sings your song. His name is Sam Lipsyte, and right now he is eating a jelly doughnut." -Reviewing Sam Lipsyte's new book was obviously just a way for Awl pal Dan Kois to justify neck-beards and middle-aged belly creep in New York Magazine.
Monday, in New York magazine! "Dog-walking with the novelist and vegetarian polemicist Jonathan Safran Foer"! Also! "Circumcision: For and Against"!
The most bizarre portion of New York magazine's story on lawyer-swindler (tautology! ok, sorry) Marc Dreier, about his son Spencer:
With his mother waiting outside, Spencer delivered his speech. "He said no one should be deserting his father because his father gave them so much," says someone who was there. "It was bizarre." The lawyers in the room were livid. One even started shouting: "I'm not going to listen to you! You have no place in here! This is a partnership meeting. You're not a partner!" Spencer even apparently came back to 499 Park Avenue the next day, trying to get in, when the guards stopped him. "He said, [...]