From Gawker:ÂÂ
Times editors are apparently tired of people saying mean things about Emily Gould and about their own decision to publish her meditation on blogging, because they’ve shut down the comments section attached to Gould’s magazine piece. Some 727 responses flooded in before the shutdown, even though the article won’t be physically published until the Sunday issue. Many called the former Gawker editor narcissistic, self indulgent and a bad writer and said her story was a waste of space; there were supporters, including people who praised Gould for having moved on from vicious, inconsequential Gawker and for pushing them to reexamine their own online personas. Whatever was said, the decision to shut down comments is bizarre, because just yesterday Times Magazine editor Gerry Marzorati told FishbowlNY the story was worthy of his cover precisely because of the discussion it would spark[.]
I mentioned here that I couldn’t get beyond the first 2 1/2 pages, and posted Jim in KC’s short review. Your link to the blog Alphabet Shit, if you want it.
O, sex! Where is thy sting?
Yeah, TEN pages? Honey, you were an editor at GAWKER. Tina Brown you are not, sugartits.
Lisa – I thought we discussed this before. If you are going to call yourself/someone else sugartits, we need linky proof. Thank you, in advance, for your anticipated cooperation.
JD, “sugartits” can only be proved in person.
And since no one else is volunteering to test the claim, I guess I’m drafted.
As I headed back to my apartment, I received a call from Troy, the cute doe-eyed assistant at the NYT Mag, telling me that comments to the article had been shut down.
“This is normal,” said Troy, and in his alluring voice I could hear his concern for me.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Absolutely. This happens with provocative pieces. Look. I’m ready to call it a day here. We could meet and look over the comments. You know, together.”
I’d been around the block one too many times not to suspect that Troy may have been using this incident as an opportunity to get to know me better, to explore the tension that had risen between us over the last few day, but in my present state of mind, I didn’t want to overthink it.
“Where should we meet?” I asked.
hf – Brilliant.
thank you but I dunno. You’re nobody until you’re talked about… is there an escape clause when your nobodyness is what they’re talking about? To become a famous paragon of insignificance. I guess you have to admire the effort she’s put into it. I bet she went to a really good school.
From her wiki:
“….I bet she went to a really good school.”
– Or a really bad fashion consultant….
Eugene Lang… that’s the New School, yes?
– I swear the brunette in that picture winked at me…..
I think it’s Professor Xavier’s School for Talented Youngsters.
another Friday morning heh- McCain? Healthy!
I only made it through 3/4 of a page.
I know why Henry moved out.
MayBee – the nishit is not going to like that, although it will not stop her from asserting that he is suffering from early-onset.
I broke down and tried to get through that, and then broke down near the end of the first page. Good Allah, they should make the folks at Gitmo read that. No need to waterboard KSM when you have this at your disposal.
Lisa – She is not a “sugartits”
I read Happyfeet’s follow-up in lieu of the Times piece. That’s probably enough, is my guess.
– JD – Thats why some think the Dems have decided to make a marathon circus out of their primary. They’re hoping he dies before the election.
– In the mean time if Iraq continues to stabilize and becomes a relatively benign area by the pre-election debates, I wouldn’t want to be the Dems PR team trying to counter the 24/7 loops on TV showing Reid, Pelosi, and Murtha, just to name a few, delivering their surrender terms.
SarahW – happy’s was exponentially better than even the best sentence from that mountain of masturbation.
I got grossed out thinking about her and Henry staining their couch.
BBH – In some ways, his health should be a legitimate concern, were he actually symptomatic. But nothing, and I mean nothing, suggests that he is physically incapable of performing the job. And despite nishit’s claim, there is no evidence of a lack of mental ability either. Now, that does not mean I agree with him, I rarely do, but to suggest that his health, at this juncture, is an issue is really stretching it.
– #19. Oh hell, its ok. I didn’t much feel like breakfast this morning anyway.
MayBee – Just like when nishit said she had a date with a prospective sperm spreader?
Inspired by not having read this thing either, I, too, will bravely reexamine my online persona.
…
He’s making a thinky-face about whether some kinda mensroomwall auctoris pun is worth working into this space below the ellipsis.
I don’t think so, but let’s see what he decides…
Freud!
Freud!
Schadenfreude!
I think she’s the one on the right.
What’s her mutant ability, Dan? The ability to inspire narcolepsis in others?
I jumped right to page 10, where I found that her other recently ex-boyfriend trashed her in an online expose of his own.
Heh. It ends funny. Anyone wanna check the middle?
Perhaps it was the sense that my increasing isolation demanded more and more self immolation. As I withdrew from meatspace and bored like an epileptic mole deeper into the confines of widescreen LED and comment flames, I sensed both a deeper understanding of my neurosis and a quasi-lucid insight that I knew nothing about myself, the others and the world.
At that moment, I spontaneously combusted from transcendent irrelevance. Henry told me to stop screaming as Top Chef was on Bravo and they were about to pick the final three.
My darkest dreg dread of eternal selfishness had been realized. I asked Henry for a snack, preferably uncooked.
Read Jim in KC’s review.. Speaking of ‘Attention Whores’, when ya going to write some more about that way hot Elizabeth Wurtzel? (Preferably accompanied by pics of her in skimpy outfits taken from Maxim magazine..)
BJ – I just hit my head on my keyboard about 1/2 way through that. How did it end? My guess – someone went postal.
Nope! Just a simple request for a snack. This of course reflects the minimalist approach to everyday traumas and the self effacing…
Aw, who am I kidding? Death by boredom!
How dare those evil commenters try to stifle Emily’s right to free speech, not to mention Times Magazine’s right to be purchased!
I got grossed out thinking about her and Henry staining their couch.
Onoes. Her idea of dirty laundry is too literal.
If snacks pass for insights, I”m having a yogurt right now.
Fage sent me a free case ’cause I got one from the store that was improperly flocculated.
So, she writes a ten-page article about her issues with oversharing….
Ok. Um…
Yeah. A little overexposed and underdeveloped.
I asked Henry for a snack, preferably uncooked.
I was going to speculate about what kind of “uncooked snack” Henry might have used to choke off her boring-assed torrent of babble, but that would be too tasteless, even for me.
You mean, like a rock?
Well, spies, she was on fire.
bored like an epileptic mole
spontaneously combusted from transcendent irrelevance
darkest dreg dread of eternal selfishness
Nobody pays for shit like that, she either has big titties or can suck a golf ball through a garden hose. Or both.
#40: HA!!!!!! Mad skillz!
Why is not a blow job really a blow job anymore? What went wrong?
(1) This isn’t a suggestion or anything, but Miss Gould – the Brooklyn Bridge is ready when you are.
(2) The Japanese are, without doubt, the wackiest whackmobiles to ever walk the earth.
whackiest whackmobiles ? hysterical. That ranks up there with alp’s Dumbasabuttgnatistan.
[…] Dan) Category: Heh ♦ ♦ No comments […]
“#Comment by Dan Collins on 5/23 @ 9:38 am #
Yeah. A little overexposed and underdeveloped.”
So the sugartits are right out?
– Moe – In my day it was “….suck start a Harley…”.
– Apropos of nothing in particular, Saudi Arabia is giving 500 million to the World food bank. I feel so benevolent that my gas dollars will be helping the Generals of Burma.
“bored like an epileptic mole
spontaneously combusted from transcendent irrelevance
darkest dreg dread of eternal selfishness”
What is it with the young folk, Beauchamp, et al. Who is telling them this is good writing.
I mean the “fluggisterated flumbly dregs of the flidering sky-hearts infect my thumb stains” school of writing. I mean “ouch, I caught my thumb in the stapler” should suffice.
Serious question – where the heck do these pseudo-intellectual women writers get the idea that they have to act as a self-centered jerk all of the time? Why hasn’t anyone ever told them they aren’t that special so grow up already? This young woman is going to be twenty-seven and she’s writing about the emotional issues of a fifteen year old in the exaggerated manner of a fifteen year old.
How did this permanent adolescence come along and how can we exterminate it?
Besides pointing out that the Brooklyn Bridge Is Ready When You Are?
She got no babies yet.
Even the most mundane of interpersonal transactions mutated into a diaspora of electrons and thumb based CTS. I might be overcome with a desire to pop a few Rollos. Josh’s secret cache in his bottom left drawer behind his back editions of The New Republic beckoned like a cigarette sized line of coke.
Simple human function and tribal mores stipulated a 20 ft. walk, a polite interogatory followed by physically purloining said chocolate unfinished pyramids and squealing my way back to my tube cell. Such was not to be, the time spent IMing my heart of darkness desire for the gooey middle, Josh expressing his concern and possession and neither of us ever getting around to actually moving in a direction that would have accomplished the feeding of my addiction pangs.
The Tic Tacs, though found wanting, were consumed with a fervor approaching rapture. I was now the slug transfixed in the siren song of photons.
Okay, i actually counted and the word “I” appears 343 times out of her 8,000 words. Can I get pity points like her for my OCD?
She isn’t going to get any babies, Sdferr, if she continues like this.
Not unless she can buy one and have it Fed Exed to her.
Not unless she can buy one and have it Fed Exed to her.
Or just move to Texas, probably could get one there if you hurry.
“The Tic Tacs, though found wanting, were consumed with a fervor approaching rapture. I was now the slug transfixed in the siren song of photons.”
Now that’s a case of temporal-lobe epilepsy, right there.
There was a BBC serise a while back about a wounded fighter pilot’s trek back to the cockpit of his Spitfire. That was the theme song. Great tale.
Mikey NTH,
Man, you nearly forced me to read her crap but after a page and a half, I gotta say, shit no, I’m not gonna do it. Hereafter, I’ll just take your word for the assertion she won’t be getting any kiddies. Do I miss my guess that this creature has appeared on “RedEye” at some point or other?
#57
That was, I believe, “Piece of Cake”. BBC 1988. Many Spitfire pilots suffered burns because the wings were so thin the fuel tank was situated between the cockpit and the engine. If the fuel tank was hit the fuel would spray into the cockpit. I can’t believe I remember that.
Wow. That was tedious. And endless. Did I mention tedious?
Thanks Rusty. I appreciate the info. I just ordered “The Dam Busters.”
Mind you, the “Bells of Hell”, “Menin Gate”, and even “Menin” are lost to us. They belong to a generation that learned Latin, and Greek, and the classics.
This.
If snacks pass for insights, Iâ€Âm having a yogurt right now.
I just did a huge fucking rail of blow. What is a snack?
Wow. That was tedious. And endless. Did I mention tedious?
Given the pictures, I assume you must have read it for the content? As did I.