Maybe People Shouldn't Quit the 'Times' Just Because We Hate Them?
An anonymous journo writes, regarding our all-in-fun poll:
I sort of think the joke doesn't work with Alex Kuczynski given that she's no longer on staff and hasn't been for a loooooong time. Deborah Solomon is obviously a contract writer with the magazine, not a member of the union. Hence neither of them belong in your poll. And Amanda Hesser did quit, already. A couple of weeks ago. Anyway, I don't mean ot be all high and mighty about it, but it just seems to me that in general, if you are going to be merciless cunts, it would help to know what you're talking about.
It's true, that does help. We blame the readers who submitted those names and our unwillingness to do any research! More, touching on Gawker punching-bag Alessandra Stanley, after the jump.
And regarding Alessandra Stanley, and the post from yesterday... She is exactly the kind of Times writer Gawker ought to be championing, and instead you guys have been relentlessly kicking the shit out of her for three years, for every correction she ever gets, for her style, writing today that she should be forced to take a buyout...Obviously, she gets too many corrections, but she churns out (sometimes) as many as five columns a week, and is funny and irreverent not in the maer roshan sense of the word, but in the real sense of the word...Are you guys jealous? Did you just arbitrarily decide to be malicious to her? I totally get it with useless Bill Carter but with her, I find it totally mystifying.
Just saying.
Good points all, except for the lame (five columns a week! presumably written while dodging sniper fire?) defense of Alessandra Stanley, who clearly just hates her job. Kelefa Sanneh has never, to our knowledge, accidentally mentioned the hit single "Totally Out-There" from hiphop duo Charles Barkley. Maybe the architecture critic accidentally mistakes perforated parapets for plain ones every week but we're not a nation of architects, we're a nation of television viewers, and we notice when someone calls it "All About Raymond."
We freely own up to malicious cuntiness, though.