Why I'm Bored by the New Yorker

Back in the old days, the New Yorker was an elitist mag. Actually, it was aimed at two elites, sort of: the sophisticated: the educated and the well-to-do, two groups with some overlap. With great writing, articles told you all you needed to know (sometimes more) about whatever. It had great writers doing great writing.

And lots of funny cartoons.

Nowadays, in the reflection of modern culture, it doesn't care about (pardon the expression) improving the reader. It just cranks out the same old Big Media B.S. but with a pseudo-intellectual gloss and specious pretension.

Like this week's biggie: If we stay in Iraq, things will get worse, if we leave, they'll get worse but less so.

For those of us whose eyes have been open on the subject since Our Leaders went public with their hard-ons for Iraq after 9/11, this is really old news. But I mean, let's look at the obvious: we majorly destabilize a country composed of three groups that want to kill each other; without an iron fist, so to speak, what would expect except violent, bloody anarchy or civil war? And that's just what we got; mission accomplished indeed.