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 Sayonara Wonkette
1/30/06 22:46:03
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So I see that the mighty Wolcott has dropped Wonkette from his blogroll. I fear it’s time for me to do the same.
To be accurate, though, I should say I’m dropping not Wonkette, but "Wonkette". Ana Marie has gone on to greener pastures, while the blog has been turned over to two guys with ironically arched eyebrows.
I just have one question for Nick Denton: Was it really not possible to hire a woman to be Ana’s replacement? In the greater galaxy of talent, was there not one female who could have filled her sassy shoes? And in case you’re wondering, no, I wouldn’t have been interested. I’m no longer willing to accept being paid slave wages in exchange for getting invited to the right parties. But I’m sure that somewhere in the Denton stable is a grossly underpaid gal with a fresh voice who would have been a perfect fit.
Dc Media Girl Permalink
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Back I’ve come
1/29/06 21:03:57
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So I’m back.
I know that those of you who’ve stuck around and keep checking this blog despite my intermittent postings are probably wondering where I’ve been. Suffice to say that the demands of work coupled with a touch of ennui have kept me from writing. But I’ve emerged from my self-imposed confinement to post yet again. Besides, I know you don’t come here to read about my personal problems.
First off, I’d like to point out that my friend Steve Gilliard is fundraising again. I won’t bore you with the pleas and scoldings about how the leftie blogosphere has to keep putting out its begging bowl to thrive. You know that all too well. You also know the quality of Gilly’s work. So give already. I have.
Next, I’d like to commend Oprah for seeing the error of her ways and finally taking that big phony James Frey to task. I’d also like to congratulate her for choosing Elie Wiesel’s Night as her new Book Club selection, although I must say that there’s something repellent about following up a fraudulent, vomit-and-bodily-fluid-soaked sob story about lack of self-control with a Nobel Peace Prize winner’s memoir about life in the Nazi death camps, but I guess I should just be grateful that she’s chosen a decent book as penance.
Next topic: Lost. DCMB and I are totally, 100% hooked, and have reached the point of adoration where our biggest fear is that the object of our affection may soon start to stink like a mackerel by moonlight. What if they stop typing that number sequence into the computer? Where did Desmond go when he ran off? When will we solve the mystery of the Others? Seriously, I’m hoping for some headway plot-wise this decade and that the producers don’t take the X-Files route and keep the show on life support after its sell-by date (yes, I know that’s a mixed metaphor, but whatever).
So a lot of stuff’s been bugging me lately. The Judiciary Committee, for example. The fact that Nicole Richie, a talentless puppethead whose claim to fame is a famous family, a whoreish former friend, a television show in which she mocked working people and an alarming case of sudden, dramatic weight loss, is now so famous that she’s being handsomely compensated to model for Jimmy Choo, which means she gets showered with free shoes and bags (ah, the fashion industry, where freakish emaciation is endlessly rewarded). The fact that Shannon Elizabeth, whose accomplishments don’t even match her American Pie co-alum Tara Reid’s, not only gets to go to Sundance, but also scores great swag at the festival because she’s a "celebrity" (isn’t there a statute of limitations on this sort of privilege? Shouldn’t there be?). The fact that the sportswriting establishment has wet its collective pants at the thought of Bode Miller skiing impaired on a legal substance. Or maybe hung over. Clutch the pearls!
Speaking of clutching the pearls, how about that Washington Post ombudswoman? It always starts the same. The new ombudswhatever’s first column reads like first date conversation...an overeager recitation of the resume, a blushing promise to be honest...but eventually, the relationship sours and there’s a meltdown or tantrum. Those readers! So ungrateful, so mean! How DARE they talk to me like that? After all I’ve done for them.
And so it goes.
At some point, these gatekeepers and ombudsfolk and editors and others will have to face the fact that readers will demand accountability. If you can’t handle the pressure of ombudsing, well, please quit your job and offer it to me. I could use the rest.
Finally, some recommendations. James Risen’s State of War is brilliant - give it a read. And Matt Taibbi’s latest is a thing of beauty.
More later, I promise.
Dc Media Girl Permalink
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Hoax
1/12/06 07:57:56
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Twin hoaxes, actually.
You may have read that the "authors" JT LeRoy and James Frey have been exposed as being not quite what they seem.
First Frey. A Smoking Gun investigation has uncovered that Frey’s vomit-encrusted autobio, A Million Little Pieces, was "wholly fabricated" or "wildly embellished". The only reason people care about this story is that Frey is a bestselling author and Oprah’s latest Book Club annointee, which has caused wingnuts like the racist Malkin to bray, absurdly, about "Oprah’s Con Man". Never mind that he fooled his publishing house and other entities on his way to fame and fortune.
As for me, I have another issue with this story, which is: Most of Oprah’s Book Club selections suck. Most are poorly written, maudlin and chock-full of phony sentiment. One notable exception of a readable and interesting selection was Jonathan Franzen’s The Corrections, and look at what happened with him.
My personal Oprah fave? Stones From the River, about a dwarf braving the injustices of the Holocaust. Seriously.
As for JT LeRoy, this is a story that’s been of interest to literally dozens of people over the years. Who is he? What does he look like? It turns out that there was no "he", and that the person posing as the sad urchin author was actually a woman, not a transgendered sprite with AIDS. Ayelet Waldman took the time from writing creepy erotica about her son to explain why she was fooled willingly.
Did you take a look at that photo of "LeRoy"? Could anyone in their right mind confuse that person for a man? And could any disguise, apart from Groucho Marx glasses-and-nose or a sheet with holes cut in it with the word "Boo!" written on it be more unconvincing?
So why do we care? Maybe it’s because there’s something slightly creepy about people who sell the stories of their abject humiliation and suffering to the highest bidder. Given the rewards, why not make up and embellish hideous tales of molestation, arrests, addiction and abuse?
More on this from the incomparable Wolcott.
Dc Media Girl Permalink
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First shocker headline of 2006
1/12/06 07:30:15
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Alito Leaves Door Open to Reverse Roe v. Wade
Well, no kidding.
Dc Media Girl Permalink
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Happy Birthday to Me
1/3/06 19:49:42
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So today’s my birthday. And what did I wish for first thing? That God would make me happy, and that I’d be able to share that happiness with my friends.
I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking I’m going to talk about Jack Abramoff’s plea, don’t you? Well, you’re wrong. Abramoff coming clean about his nauseating, bottomless greed didn’t bring a smile to my face. He’s sickening. The politicians he pimped his clients to are disgusting. Oh, and he’s the ultimate shonde for the goyim. Screw him.
No, what’s made me happy today, if by "happy" you mean wallowing hip-deep in a warm pool of schadenfreude, is this story. Why? Because I KNOW HER. I used to work with her crazy ass. And because even before she was sabotaging interviews by moving cameras, or threatening WaPo reporters to defend her then-boss Tom DeLay, she was an insane junior staffer at ABC News in Washington. Even then one could see the woman the girl was bound to become: thin-skinned, vindictive, quick to anger.
And now look. The the loose lips of a woman scorned, who acted as a human shield between Tom DeLay and the press, could now prove to be his downfall.
It doesn’t get much better than this, Washington-wise.
Dc Media Girl Permalink
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From the VOGUE mailbag, 1/2006
1/2/06 21:43:26
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People magazine’s letter writers have begun to bore me, so I’ve trained my cynical gaze on Vogue today. Here are some especially egregious offerings from their most recent issue’s mailbag:
"Oh, my!" (and add to that a sharp breath) was my reaction to the October cover of VOGUE (photographed by Mario Testino). Who better to grace the issue than the talented Gwyneth Paltrow? I have never seen a more beautiful cover in my life. Gwyneth absolutely radiates warmth, beauty, inner peace, and cool, and there is such depth to her expression. Both the styling and the story ("Gwyneth Takes Paris!", by Jonathan Van Meter) inside the magazine are delightful. So, bravo, Mr. Testino. You’ve done it again.
-- Winter Zoli, Los Angeles, CA
I was thrilled when I opened your October issue and saw an article on my favorite model of the past two decades, Stella Tennant. Her thoroughbred beauty and elegance haven’t been as prevalent in your pages in recent years and have been missed. It’s great that she’s so happy with her family and wonderful home. I hope we’ll be seeing much more of Stella in the future, whether modeling for VOGUE or doing commercia work, and I look forward to her upcoming collaborations with Burberry.
-- Lise Alper, Englewood, CO
Dc Media Girl Permalink
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So it’s 2006
1/2/06 21:09:57
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Goodbye 2005. Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out.
Can we talk, 2005? You didn’t exactly do yourself proud. If you’d been a person, you would have been snugly straightjacketed and confined to the darkest recesses of the nervous hospital. If you’d been a dog, you probably would have been shot as an act of "mercy."
What do you have to show for yourself? "Jeff Gannon". Michael Jackson and Robert Blake "not guilty". Katrina. Brownie. The bug-eyed runaway bride. An overdose of Paris Hilton, Nick and Jessica, and other talentless pantloads. Brad, Jennifer and Angelina. The Schindlers. The state of Florida. I could go on and on, but I think you get the point.
Then again, some good stuff happened. I got hooked on Lost. The last season of 24 was fantastic. American Dad was all kinds of wrong. Munich is a great film. Larry Johnson’s blog got better by the day.
I think I’ll quit while I’m ahead. Thanks for your year of service, but there’ll be no need to stay behind to show 2006 the ropes. We’ll do just fine without you.
Dc Media Girl Permalink
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