I just got an e-mail from The New Yorker offering me a free poster of Lindsay Lohan (along with trying to get me to subscribe to GQ magazine). This, from the magazine that long thought color covers were too tacky for its image, and that still insists on sticking in an umlaut in words like "coördination." William Shawn, I imagine, is spinning like a high-end centrifuge in his grave. James Thurber, meanwhile, I suspect is probably laying in his grave quite titillated by the idea, wishing someone would smuggle a DVD player into his coffin so he could watch Herbie: Fully Reloaded.
Update: One funny thing about blogging, you never know which of your posts is going to get linked by a stranger.