Oh MAN. Congratulations, DUDES. You totes did it.
Well, almost totes – this week’s New Yorker is 98% by and about teh menz. I knew the day would come, and it pretty much has.
Without Nancy Franklin’s 99% menz-y report on the YouTube Debate, and Lizzie Widdicombe’s Talk of the Town tidbit on the rabbi who will do his rabbi thing door-to-door as long as the door opens to a rich white dude – total dudeosity would have been achieved.
Let me be clear about this:
-Not one feature article was by a woman.
-Only one Talk of the Town was by a woman (see above).
-Not one poem was by a woman.
-Only one piece in The Critics was by a woman (see above).
-Even the CARTOONS were a 100% dick festival this week. No Chast! Not even I-am-unable-to-draw-a-non-SATCish-woman Marisa Acocella Marchetto!
So what did the dudes want to talk about this week?
Je suis choqué.
Talk of the Town was 100% about men, but the feature articles were not.
There was a nice long article about a lady named Marion True who is wearing four different animals/animal byproducts in her stunned-looking portrait (leather jacket trimmed with fur, wool sweater, pearl earrings and necklace) and who may or may not be guilty of improperly procuring antiquities to the Getty Museum.
There was an even longer article about the aforementioned Malcolm Lowry, who may or may not have been murdered by his crazy-but-absolutely-less-crazy-than-him wife. In my opinion, the world is better off without both of them, and my life is undeniably less rich for having devoted an entire beach afternoon to reading about their pathetic little lives.
Immediately after the Lowry piece is…you know what? I’m not even going to comment on the fiction.
I’m done with my homework for this week.
1. In truth I am off to read Secret Ingredients, which my mom gave me for Hanukkah!
2. The NYerWbW is a regular feature whereby my mother and I keep track of the male/female breakdown in The New Yorker magazine.
3. Please note that because I’m on vacation and am getting my mail forwarded, I am approximately one year behind everyone else in the world on New Yorkers.