Last night saw the secret Time Warner ceremony during which John Huey was finally, formally coronated to succeed Norm Pearlstine as Time Inc.'s editor-in-chief, only the sixth in the company's history. (Indeed, Keith Kelly has suggested in the Post that actual ceremonial headgear is involved, a Vatican-like bishop's miter that represents the "church" side of media organizations' alleged and increasingly quaint "church-state" divide.)

We're told the installation occurred before an elite audience of a few hundred top Time Warner execs, including the half-dozen or so top editors from most Time Inc. magazines. But we don't know what actually transpired there, as the ritual is otherwise so shrouded in secrecy that we imagine it somewhat akin to the Great Food Offering rite performed by newly enthroned Japanese emperors, which is also believed to carry a sexual element of commune with the ancestral Sun Goddess, and is thus what prevents Japan from permitting an empress. (It's worth noting here — to extend this gratuitous and unfounded implication — that Time Inc. has never had a female editor-in-chief.)

We do know this, though: There was some pretty amazing swag, several fabulous pieces of which we got our hands on.

The Editor-in-Chief is Dead! Long Live the Editor-in-Chief!


We found most intriguing these hunks of milk chocolate emblazoned with the likenesses of both outgoing Great Leader and incoming Dear Leader. Presented in a Godiva-like golden gift box, they're the perfect holiday gift for the sweet-toothed magazine editor or media reporter on your list. We'd like to report that they're delicious, too, but we have no idea. We wouldn't dare eat them until we receive a personal waiver from our double-super-secret Time Inc. source.

There's more after the jump, including a keychain baring both men's faces — a perfect gift for your favorite close-night car-service driver! — and, perhaps best, a heat-sensitive coffee mug that, when filled, magically reveals Time Inc.'s future.

Two sides of the keychain:

The Editor-in-Chief is Dead! Long Live the Editor-in-Chief!


Two angles of the coffee mug:

The Editor-in-Chief is Dead! Long Live the Editor-in-Chief!


The mug being filled with boiling water:

The Editor-in-Chief is Dead! Long Live the Editor-in-Chief!


(Pearlstine, inexplicably, remains visible on the other side. Must represent his "senior advisor" deal.)