Anonymous Outsider

Even Better Than Herpes

Can I get a fuck yeah? Just as the horrible turn in American politics, the encroaching winter, and post-marathon blues have conspired to sink me into a deep depression, Dave Peckar and Sylvester Stallone come riding to the rescue with their err--, long awaited glossy, Sly. "Shut up!" you say, "too good to be true." Why not just call it Best Ever mag? you know that's what it is. This thing's going to sell 100,000 copies in one week, because Joe six-pack needs a version of Men's Health that speaks to them. The latter's just way too highbrow, with its preoccupation with printed words.

Anyhow, the gaily-bedecked fashionistas at the Daily have badgered some big cheeses at the major men's monthlies to gauge the reaction of the mediatocracy to Sly. And they're obviously as exhilarated as they are terrified.

“Thanks for thinking of me, but I don’t have too much to say about the impending launch of Sly." -- Dan Peres, Details

"My advice to Sly? I wouldn’t want to say anything that would put a frown on his face. Oh, wait—that’s no longer possible!” -- Dave Zinczenko, Men's Health

Nice, Zinczenko: Referring jokingly to an accident a man suffered at birth when a facial nerve was severed by a pair of forceps, thereby paralyzing half his mouth permanently is always a collegial greeting; especially when his publication is the mutant, retarded offspring of your own. Sly should kick your fucking ass, wiseguy. (Stallonezone) (the Daily)

Somewhere, Murrow Is Smiling

The always reliable hep-cats at CBS news have dug deep into the nation's zeitgeist to discover something called a weblog, or "blog" as they're commonly referred to by computer geeks. Evidently, these "blog operators," actually want people to read their websites. Shut up! That's crazy.

"blog operators...not only don’t care about the veracity of the stories they are spreading, they do not understand when there is a live hand grenade on their keyboard. They appear not to care. Their concern is for controversy and 'hits.'" (CBS)

Yeah, that's way different from network news -- where you get paid money to make up shit to drum up viewers.

Sure It Was

"A review of the concert film 'Fade to Black' in Weekend yesterday misidentified a star appearing in the film with the rapper Jay-Z. She was Foxy Brown, not Lil' Kim. Because of an editing error, a picture caption misidentified the singer dressed all in white. He was R. Kelly, not Jay-Z." (Sat. NYT)

C'mon, that's 0 for 2. Even Steve Dunleavy could do better than that and he hates black people.

Another Reason To Move To London

"A Channel 4 spokeswoman said that the drama would include lesbian sex scenes but the girls cast would be at least 16." (Mirror)

Well, that last bit should be a comfort to stuffy, moralitic types, at least.

So Deep in My Rim, You're Nearly a Part of Me

"Because of an oversight by the Cole Porter estate, one of his loveliest works has become permanently associated with the toilet-bowl cleaner that turned it into 'I've Got You Under My Rim.'" (NYT)

They Cost About the Same, But One is a Hell of a Lot More Fun

"...thanks largely to the mania for televised poker, a night out for adolescent boys (and it is virtually all boys) in nearly any suburban town these days almost invariably takes the form of a marathon game with stakes as low as the $5 buy-in at this game or considerably higher at some impromptu tournaments."

Really? Because when I was fourteen a night out with my friends invariably took the form of getting stoned on weed, piss drunk and passing out in a park. No doubt, the times, they-are-a-changin'. (NYT)

"A Time to Dance, a Time to Mourn"

I can't think of anything better to come out of blogdom than the man formerly known as TMFTML writing up the Sunday Times' Playlist feature. I know it's a rotating slot, but they should invite him back as frequently as possible. How else will phrases like "tricked out" and "tugging on Ian Curtis' rope" make it into the normally predictable Times music coverage?

Dept. of Meta-Gossip

While cannibalizing the media for gossip for this space we're always struck by the question: how much of this shit is true? Take, for example, these two items -- from very different publications -- about Jack Nicholson and two much younger, very famous, women: Kate Moss and Paris Hilton, respectively. Either we could say 'whoa -- nothing slows down ol' (err--old) Jack, pass the viagra and chin up aging guys.' Or, on the other hand, we might suspect Nicholson's press agent with slipping these items around to impress someone. Maybe he's trying to impress Kate Moss with the Paris item, or vice versa? Maybe he's vying against Warren Beatty for a part as an aging heartthrob? Even studio big-shots who know the score can be suckers for the printed word (otherwise Variety would have been out of business a long time ago). When Robert Evans was being blitzed for the ill-fated cartoon, "Kid Notorious," he was frequently linked with Paris, who, doesn’t strike us as the chick with the keenest sense of history. (London Times) (WB)

Stern Off To Satellite

The sultan of shock, Howard Stern, has announced on his radio program that he will "devote his life" to making satellite radio a huge success; he has signed a five-year contract with Sirius (he has fifteen months left on his present Viacom contract), one of two satellite radio companies. He claims that terrestrial radio was killing him -- aww, the poor thing -- and that he needs the freedom of the new medium. Stern claims that Sirius is giving him three stations to program, one of which might be adult. Stern says this marks a victory over Clear Channel and the "religious kooks" who sought to take him off the radio. He promises to bury Clear Channel, his former employer. Interestingly, Stern made his announcement at twenty minutes to nine AM, when the stock market opens, promising to drive the price of Sirius stock up at the opening bell.

Hey, Nobody's Perfect

"THAT it wasn't Jam Master Jay the other night at Crobar. It was loud and dark and our intrepid reporter has trouble distinguishing among Grandmaster Flash, DJ Jazzy Jeff [ed. -- pic right], Fab Five Freddy and Ol' Dirty Bastard [ed. -- pic left]. Jam Master was murdered two years ago, and we apologize to his family. . ."

Because all those guys look so much alike. (Page Six)