My unintentional Christopher Hitchens tribute

Hitchens rides a bike. Via Vanity Fair

On Dec. 12, I participated in my third PUNDERDOME 3000 in Park Slope, an event that is exactly what it sounds like (if you’re saying “I mustache you a question” about this, I humbly request you shave it for later).

One of the semi final categories was WILL SMITH; On my turn, I opened with, “I heard that Will Smith’s favorite Atlantic writer was Christopher HITCHens.”

And then, three days later, Christopher Hitchens died  (incidentally giving us the only repeated use of the term “polemicist” in modern obituary history).

If this trend continues, things that also should be on the lookout: Big Willie Smiles, Fresh Prints, Giant Goddamn Steampunk Spider. Continue reading

A 2011 power ranking of New York writers as food

(see  below)

Emma Strauberry

Jen Carlsjrson

Puree Shafrir

Anil Mrs. Dash

Nate Freerangechicken

Brian Rieses Pieces

Rosie Gravy

Carl Ron Swanson’s Breakfast

Choire Sriracha

Alex Balkan Tulumbe 

Jim Brûlée

Emily Gulden’s

Kat Stouffers

Jen Dahl

Dill Keller

Sachertorte Frere-Jones

Joe Cous-couscarelli

Hugo Limburger

Ryan O’krannel

Edith Zeppoleman 

Lawrence Ryeght

Jennifer Veganburger 

Molson Whitehead

Jonathan Franzia

Brian Speltler 

David Carrbonara

The best time I got rejected from The Awl

Dec 23, 2011, 9:22am:
>For your consideration. Thanks!

Td

[STUPID PIECE WENT HERE AND HERE AND HERE]

Dec 23, 2011 at 9:33 AM, Choire Sicha wrote:
>TIM.

You are so wrong in the head!

Dec 23, 2011 at 9:36 AM, Tim Donnelly wrote:
> sometimes I just have to amuse myself.

Dec 23, 2011 at 9:39 AM, Choire Sicha wrote:
>SICK MONSTER!!!

Dec 23, 2011 at 10:12 AM, Tim Donnelly wrote:
> this is still exponentially nicer than most pitch responses I get*
.
On Fri, Dec 23, 2011 at 10:16 AM, Choire Sicha wrote:
>haha, MERRY CHRISTMAS.
.
(*this is so true).

On trying not to abandon your blog

Hey, it's the first ever Inverted Soapbox post! Meta meta.

Readers here will notice the flood of posts has dried up to an infrequent drizzle over the past year or so and it’s due in no small part to being Actually Busy with Work That’s Read By More Than Four People. And this is the problem with blogs, the personal kind you start when you’ve got nothing else to do, say you’re maybe a frustrated reporter stuck at a small-town paper writing the same rezoning stories over and over again like some sort of Mac-toting Sisyphus.

So then you find yourself (not complaining at all) in the position of spending 8am-10pm some days in front of the computer writing, posting, editing, reporting, re-editing, pre-posting and working on even more pitches to give yourself even more writing and reporting work, and by the end of the day you’re so dead tired of staring at the computer screen and banging out content that you want to spend your one free hour chugging Trader Joe’s wine and killing an episode or two of Dr. Who. Which is why, if you ever look around the internet, you see lots of withered and abandoned blogs among the recently promoted set of the internet, the folks who had time once to blather away to their little corner of the internet before, you know, a bigger audience might look them up. Suddenly this little webspace that once contained emo ramblings about breaking up with a girl in South Carolina (long-since deleted) or what the iPhone means for the death of the bar argument (still up here somewhere) suddenly might be stumbled upon by someone I’m trying to profile for Inc. (like this guy) or, yikes!, even a potential date (Yes, I know who you are, sometimes. Statcounter is like reverse stalking: stalking the people who are stalking you. Does that count as stalking? Yes, I’m asking you, stalker).  Continue reading

Xeni Jardin has breast cancer

I just got way too overly emotional reading this tweet from writer, Boing Boinger and all-things-brilliant tech gadfly Xeni Jardin:

I follow Xeni’s work regularly, and even though I don’t know her personally, I think at this point it’s fair to say I’m pretty sick of cancer wreaking a pretty devastating path across this 30 years of life, claiming family, friends and friends who are so close they are most certainly family.

At last count, I am among a group of six close friends who all lost fathers to cancer of one form or another, including three of us to whom it happened with the same three-year period. A gallows humor club known as the Dead Fathers Society. And there’s more and more and more, breast cancer, prostate cancer, leukemia, thyroid, whatever. Does it stop? What else can you do except fight on and on? Tell it, XKCD.

The best Occupy Wall Street sign?

Via Dave C. from Thursday’s Occupy march.

Sadly, Glass-Steagall will only be coming back to Netflix streaming, exclusively. But man is it one quotable act.

The part of my Halloween costume no one got

This, as part of the Newspaper Layoff Clark Kent outfit:

(If you don’t get the Patch joke, this comment from Etanowitz might help).

Also, this:

Hard times in the newspaper industry, especially when you always disappear instead of reporting on the biggest news events in Metropolis.