One panel, many Nicks

The prescriptive Nick Denton: Gawker’s Nick Denton on What Media Companies Must Do to Thrive Now

The contemplative Nick Denton: Gawker founder Nick Denton reflects on lawsuit that destroyed his company

The anayltical Nick Denton: Nick Denton Talks Post-Gawker Plans, Breitbart’s Rise and Why the Media Opposes Trump

The penitent Nick Denton: Here’s What Nick Denton Regrets About That Hulk Hogan Story

The optimistic Nick Denton: Gawker founder Nick Denton believes the ‘good internet will rise up again’

The beneficent Nick Denton: Nick Denton, pioneer of free gossip blogs, now pays for the New York Times

The conjectural Nick Denton: Trump ally Peter Thiel risks political backlash, says Gawker founder

The equanimous Nick Denton: Nick Denton finds a little peace and a life after Gawker and talks about Peter Thiel

The unnerved Nick Denton: Gawker’s Nick Denton Eyes the Messaging Space (Social Media Chills Him)

The pessimistic Nick Denton: Gawker Founder Nick Denton Has a Sobering Take About Money’s Influence on the Media

The hard-bitten Nick Denton: The most dangerous journalism? Product reviews, says Gawker founder Nick Denton at SXSW

UPDATE: The photo used above, a detail from Scott Beale’s “Giant Ball in Nick Denton’s SoHo Loft” (hence our use of the credit line “Photo: Scott Beale, ‘Giant Ball in Nick Denton’s SoHo Loft’ [detail]”) is from a picture of people at a party at Nick Denton’s SoHo loft, moving around a giant ball.

The giant ball in question is called Terminal, and is by John Powers. We don’t know the names of the people gathered around the giant ball but are happy to update with that information if informed.

Some dreams are too beautiful to come true.

Well, the snow did not go exactly how we planned. Instead it’s just loud, angry sleet, dashing itself against our windows until it dissolves and disappears back into the air, nevermore to trouble or be troubled by the earth to which it fell. God, I wish I were it. In any event, I wrote something on an earlier, similar occasion that I feel still speaks to our situation today, and I’d like to share it with you in this dark time.

How to Cope with the Lack of Snow

There. Feel a little better about things? I thought you might. As a further offering, here’s something absolutely gorgeous to start your day. Enjoy.

★★★ Rooftops were still white with preserved old snow. The heaters, running full-on, had detached the stuffy world inside from any hint of the experience of the outside. The light lost its color through the day but kept its sharpness. The air stung a little when finally encountered, and the cold quickly got into the knuckles. Babies were covered in plastic or down or both. Where the fresh produce usually belonged in the sidewalk stands there were freeze-proof indestructibles: paper towels, matzos, pistachios, firewoods both natural and artificial.

What’s even less believable than Godzilla?

Commenting several years ago on Kushner Companies’ $1.8 billion dollar acquisition of 666 5th Avenue, a former real estate correspondent for this website snidely — snarkily, even — declared that, “Basically the only way to make money off this investment is to call in Godzilla to step on the building.”

666 Fifth Avenue Really is the Devil

What a fool that snide snarkster was!

Kushners Set to Get $400 Million From Chinese on Marquee Tower

The Awl regrets the error, and so many other things.

Take my word for it, or this other guy’s. Or find out yourself.

Let’s get right down to it: The new Magnetic Fields record is the best thing Stephin Merritt has done since i. It is not as good as 69 Love Songs, but what is? It’s very hit or miss —let’s not forget, so was 69 Love Songs — but the misses aren’t as wide off the mark as some of the band’s more recent efforts, and a couple of the hits (right now I am scoring those as “Ghosts of the Marathon Dancers” and “I Wish I Had Pictures”) are up there with any of the all-time classics. And I say this as the original asshole who liked the band before any of you did:

The Magnetic Fields: Live At Town Hall, New York City, March 11, 2010

Anyway. I’m not a big “let’s get all descriptive as fuck in the review” type guy, because Jesus Christ, just tell me if it’s worth checking out and I’ll figure out the rest on my own. But I know some people need more convincing. Here’s the best review I’ve read so far, if someone going on and on about things is your thing.

The Magnetic Fields’ 50 Song Memoir Is Easily Their Best Album This Century

And here’s a sampler, if you do Spotify.

There’s plenty more here, including some videos. Enjoy.

“50 Song Memoir,” A Musical Exploration of Composer Stephin Merritt’s Life Is Out Now

The top ten sentences from the New Yorker piece about the failing White House Press Corps

10.

“Policy schmolicy,” Hoft said.

9.

“A girl from the press office did mention that I would get to ask a question, but of course she didn’t tell me what it should be.”

8.

He had packed an Yves Saint Laurent blazer, three Hermès ties, and a bottle of Dior Eau Sauvage.

7.

Spicer’s briefings, broadcast live on C-SPAN, are among the most highly rated programs on daytime TV, beating out “General Hospital” and “The Bold and the Beautiful.”

6.

“Everyone calls us Putin’s puppets anyway, so we might as well embrace it,” Hoft said.

5.

Reporters, apart from venting their frustration on Twitter, had no choice but to sit silently and take the abuse.

4.

Wintrich was taking the bus to D.C. because, he explained, as a fiscal conservative he couldn’t bring himself to support Amtrak.

3.

The reigning theory is that the notes are transcribed messages from the President, watching live from elsewhere in the building.

2.

“I don’t have any — there’s nothing that would conclude me that anything different has changed with respect to that time period,” Spicer said.

1.

Kyle Mazza strolled by, carrying two cans of vending-machine tuna.

Is Trump Trolling the White House Press Corps?

And other answers to questions you didn’t ask.

“This Nor’easter sounds like bad news. Any advice?” — Lots of Snow Larry

A Nor’easter is unlike any other kind of storm. They are called nor’easters because your chances of surviving are nor. Imagine guys talking in Pepperidge Farm commercial Maine accents: “Did you survive that Nor’easter, Jedidiah?” “NOR! We all died horrible deaths alone.” But with a little help from a dude from New England like me, your chances will nor up dramatically.

The first thing to do is to set up your Craigslist blizzard hook-up ad in advance. It doesn’t have to say much. You just have to let potential sex partners know that you’ll be there for them while others are buried under piles of blowing snow, all alone. With No Hartford Whalers to keep them warm. Sex won’t necessarily help you during a blizzard, except if you end up having to eat someone. And then the more people you have around the more meat you’ll have to keep you going.

Fill your bathtub with coffee. This will probably take you all day just brewing 12 cups after 12 cups. Believe me, this will be worth it. You don’t want to spend your final hours screwing around with one of those French Press things. Decide which of your furniture is best to barricade all windows and doors and which pieces make the most sense to burn just in case you have to cook something or if you need to fight off looters. If you decide to burn books start with the fiction first followed by non-fiction. Fiction just burns better for some reason. But keep the Kurt Wallendar mysteries! Those are pretty awesome even on re-read.

Decide in advance which of your local businesses you will loot when the time comes. Map out the route! You want to have a plan for the mayhem, people. Pharmacies are the best, because you really do forget how many things you need when you’re looting. Like an ironing board. I am pretty sure I used to have one of those. But tomorrow I will probably grab 5 more, just in case I have to beat some people back through our front door with one of them. And toe nail clippers. You can never have enough of those bad boys.

I don’t know why people buy butter, bottled water, flour, milk and bananas during crises. What are you making? Banana bread? Banana bread will not save you. Doritos will save you. You’re going to need all the extra calories and chemicals inside your body you can get. Once raccoons and bears have had Doritos there’s nor going back to berries and twigs. And you may have to fight off Raccoons and Bears. Eat what they eat and get as strong as they are.

If you get the chance and there is lots and lots of fluffy snow, definitely film yourself jumping out your window into a massive pile of it. First off, you’ll probably die doing this. Secondly, when I find you, you’ll be delightfully chilled so I can drag you home and bake you into a pie.

Do not shovel your stairs or walkways. Shoveling is too expensive, and if you do it yourself you will probably have a heart attack. Clearly the better and more dangerous way to deal with big piles of snow is to light it on fire with lighter fluid like so. Only a long, continuous stream of fire will keep the snow at bay!

If you happen to get stuck under lots and lots of snow the best thing to do is stay completely still. You don’t want to scare the snow away. Just give in to the euphoria that hypothermia brings on. Take long deep breaths and sleep! There won’t be a place for you in this new snowbound world! Do us all a favor and feed us into the dark, cold coming days. Your sacrifice will be remembered! And it will definitely be delicious.

When I was growing up in Massachusetts it snowed daily for 30 years. If there’s one bit of advice I can give you it’s that love is a meaningless chemical reaction in the brain that makes you weak. Love is for suckers and people who will most likely get eaten. And if you’re going to be eaten let it go left arm, right arm, butt and then the legs. You can open up just about any Joy of Cooking and replace whatever meat is in the recipe for human arm.

This snowstorm will come fast and hard and only the truly devious will survive. No amount or planning and panic will likely save you. If you make it, I’ll eat you on the other side!

Jim Behrle lives in Jersey City, NJ and works at a bookstore.

The Adventures of Liana Finck

Liana Finck’s work appears in The New Yorker and Catapult, and on her Instagram feed. Her first book, A Bintel Brief, was published by Ecco Press in 2014.

Let it snow, snow, snow, snow, snow, snow, snow, snow.

Yeah, look, we’re all tired, it’s not just you. Everyone’s a little glassy-eyed today because of the thing with the clocks, and also the sheer insanity of the last four months. But mostly the clocks. By the end of the week we’ll all be used to it, unless — and this is a lot to hope for, but hope is the one thing we have left to us after all the horror — the snow starts falling and never stops, crushing us against its frigid bosom until we finally expire in some beautiful, frigid release. Again, the odds aren’t great, but if there’s anything 2016 taught us it’s that who can even tell what the fuck is going to happen ever anymore, but usually it’s whatever the most unbelievable option is. So you never know. Let’s start the morning with Yumi Zouma’s cover of the Oasis classic “Champagne Supernova,” from their full-album interpretation of (What’s the Story) Morning Glory? Enjoy.

★★★★ Warmth lay on the morning but it wasn’t tied down and the breeze kept pushing it around. The multiple gems in a woman’s ring glittered coming one way while a sparkling back gleamed going the other. A man walked up Fifth Avenue in a sleek gray-blue sport coat, speaking loudly into the wire of his phone about a meeting he’d had with a major retail CEO. Light and people were everywhere. Cement mixers spun busily. The wind gathered force and began throwing invisible grit and water spray from somewhere up the block.