Thank you for subscribing to The New Yorker. the best conversation you could imagine on art and technology. Politics and personalities. Film and theater. Fiction and fashion. Culture and commentary.
I appreciate that like Saturday Night Live, the New Yorker has never been as good as people remember it being, but has it been this bad? Special venom most go to the editor who still thinks that Woody Allen is a funny prose writer and accepts every piece he submits. Even Woody Allen hates the comedy in the New Yorker. This editor also publishes a lot of "humour" pieces by Nora Ephron and Steve Martin and sometimes by writers under the age of 60.
Malcolm Gladwell made his appearance in several issues over the year telling us the bleedin obvious. There were articles about "fashion icons" and actors and of course I mustn't forget the New Yorker's pop music critic Sasha Frere Jones with her insightful looks at PJ Harvey and Bjork and Radiohead and other up and coming acts from 1990.
Dear Michael Spencer:
Please cancel my subscription to the New Yorker. I can in fact imagine better "conversations," than the ones I had the honour to eavesdrop on in the New Yorker. Most people's imaginations will stretch that far, unless, I suppose, you are in duress in a doctor's waiting room, are an in-bred nincompoop from the Upper East Side or Gwyneth Paltrow.