In Which Our Senior Contributor Has Nothing Better To Do Than Read That Rag The New Yorker

Cynical Bougie Commentary About Everything

by Molly Lambert

This was written by a guy who wrote/exec-produced “newsradio” and “the larry sanders show” and is presumably sitting around on huge piles of cash bemoaning the fact that he can’t get hired because he is too old and white and talented.

I think really old friends reruns are the lowest form of television I watch. I won’t watch anything worse than that. they’re showing reruns of the wonder years on the christian channel (pax, now ion) and it’s just demonstrating how amazing and depressing the wonder years was. it’s basically freaks and geeks. even the upbeat episodes are downbeat.

Surprising also that I read the new yorker this past week, since I never buy it and generally just flip through it at the stand for the interesting parts (movie reviews). I was obviously so so into this article on barbara stanwyck because she is my favorite actress and the essay does an exquisite job of explaining why. I was so happy reading it and drinking my bougie coffee drink I almost threw up all over myself with disgust at how much I was enjoying being such a fucking yuppie fuck.

I also liked this amazingly brutal review of spiderman 3 also by anthony lane, author of the lovingly administered verbal cunnilingus job on stanwyck.”Peter then dances in a night club, but unveiling a mean and moody Tobey Maguire is roughly as convincing as asking Norah Jones to rap. Dumbest of all is the change of hair style, as Peter stops combing his bangs sideways and lets them flop down over his brow. He looks like the bronze medalist in a teen-age Hitler-impersonation contest. Spider-Man, meanwhile, gets his own makeover, oiling into a different outfit (black is the new red), and hanging out moodily on church spires. What is being amplified here?” and batty music essays like this one about the twin careers of earth-mothers and o.g. really crazy chicks passing for eccentric bjork and tori amos. I respect the new yorker for putting their shit online and making it easy to access. But I love (love!) the new yorker, if only because of stellar putdowns like this amazingly brutal review of spiderman 3 also by anthony lane, author of the lovingly administered verbal cunnilingus job on stanwyck.

Peter then dances in a night club, but unveiling a mean and moody
Tobey Maguire is roughly as convincing as asking Norah Jones to rap.
Dumbest of all is the change of hair style, as Peter stops combing his
bangs sideways and lets them flop down over his brow. He looks like
the bronze medalist in a teen-age Hitler-impersonation contest.
Spider-Man, meanwhile, gets his own makeover, oiling into a different
outfit (black is the new red), and hanging out moodily on church
spires. What is being amplified here?

Molly Lambert is this recording’s most senior and most laziest correspondent.

One thought on “In Which Our Senior Contributor Has Nothing Better To Do Than Read That Rag The New Yorker

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