Today in "The New Yorker Will Publish Anything John McPhee Writes, No Matter How Tedious," please allow us to present, per The New Yorker's own press release: "John McPhee writes about 'The Orange Trapper,' a device he uses to compulsively retrieve stray golf balls." Interesting.
Last week, John McPhee published a lengthy piece on The Structure of Nonfiction Writing in The New Yorker. The collective eye-glaze of readers upon hearing that news could cover all the world's donuts. We're happy to report, though, that McPhee has surprised us.
Bee colors! Useless vitamins! Bad medicine! Big mammals! Cell trickery! Eating kids! Deer danger! And something else extremely boring! It's your Tuesday Science Watch, where we watch science—and try not to doze off, because dang!
People liked Mad Men, so of course there will be an MTV reality show about getting hired at a Brooklyn digital ad agency. That show will then be featured on the meta-reality show, "America's Most Boring Career-Based Reality Shows." [Adfreak]
To no one's surprise, it appears that Tiger Woods' wife is planning to divorce him. Sorry, golf fans momentarily distracted from your sedate sport by a wild sex scandal: this story is coming to its end.
Alain de Botton is a respected European writer who was ready to bite the arms off anyone standing in the way of his contract to spend a week sitting in an airport, writing a boring airport book. Writing careers suck.
First Ladybot Laura Bush sold her memoirs yesterday, and the speculation was that she'd get more than Hillary Clinton's $8 million advance, because of...inflation? But apparently she got way less.
What's going on in our nation's capital? I'll tell you what: Bloggers! Four young, liberal bloggers occupy a single row house in DC, meaning that a major paper is contractually obliged to cover the phenomenon as a trend. A slow-moving, couch-based trend. We learn that the roommates in "the Flophouse" send IMs to…
