Sony purchased the rights to the story and Allen's life. It will be produced by Laura Ziskin, who is behind such classics as As Good As It Gets, Pretty Woman, and Spider-Man. We're thrilled Allen will get yet more recognition, and a little money, but still, ugh. We can't believe we weren't cynical enough to predict this quiet, moving story would soon become yet more manipulative pop trash. [THR, Variety]

I've never had a group that I actually like go the late night house band route. Springsteen fans saw Max Weinberg take his act to Conan's show; and I'm sure there were some jazz heads who were flabbergasted to see their main man Kevin Eubanks signing up with Jay Leno. But The Roots? The Illadelph generals opening up for that stuttering mop-headed ball of suck, Jimmy Fallon? It's kind of tragic. On one hand, we'll get to see The Roots on TV every night; on the other hand, Black Thought opening for Jimmy Fallon every night is the cultural equivalent of Miles Davis playing his horn on the subway platform to back up a semi-trained dancing spider monkey.

To the extend that The Roots are a hip hop group, it's pretty fucking shocking. To the extent that The Roots are a hipster group, that's the end of that. They still give one of the best live shows anywhere, and the thought that the only way to see them live any more will be in the middle of the afternoon in a Midtown studio between periods of Jimmy Fallon snickering at his own cue cards is just an atrocious thing.

But they're old and so are we, so everyone is tired. Now I will go and cut myself repeatedly.

We know everyone was totally distracted by Barack Obama and his magical election, but guys, even we out here in New York knew you faced a well-funded, well-organized, media-savvy campaign of lies and misinformation, and the pro-gay marriage response was abysmal.

Now—now!—Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger says it's a shame gay marriage was banned, oh boo hoo. He didn't lift a finger to campaign against Prop 8 before! Now David Geffen is quoted in The Daily Beast babbling about the lack of outreach to black voters. Where was his money, before? [Update: Geffen gave $200k, out of his billions.] Did he get his rich liberal friends to contribute as much as the Mormon Church did? Did they use the money to build a grassroots movement as well-organized as the pro-Prop 8 guys did? Check out the list of Hollywood's non-donors as of September 10—many of them did eventually donate, but see how they didn't feel the need to until the last second?

Blaming the blacks is ridiculous and unhelpful and stupid. There aren't enough black people in California to have make the ultimate difference, even with bigger turnout, unless you consider these black voters a subset of religious voters, a giant group everyone should've known they'd have to contend with months ago. Black people certainly posed less of an electoral threat than Catholics did in the California polls.

It seems like everyone just assumed Prop 8 would fail, magically, even when the polls tightened significantly. And now—now!—the protests are ramping up. Now—now!—Keith Olbermann delivers his heartfelt Special Comment. Hey, let's all boycott Sundance! That'll show the Mormons! They won't meddle in our affairs ever again!

Of course the anger and resentment is already hardening. But yes, outreach and education and organization and money (and maybe some genuine help from Barack Obama, who was against Prop 8, though you'd never know it) might've won the battle.

Garnering support for gay rights in Arizona, in Arkansas, even in Florida, are difficult challenges that will still probably take years of work, but to get a gay marriage ban passed in California smacks of enlightened rich liberals not trying hard enough.

Here is how Heileman described the scene from nearer the stage:

He calls her a "quiet hero" — like a lot of quiet heroes in the crowd, in the country...
As Obama says all this, his voice is mostly steady, but tears are streaming down his right cheek — the first public tears he has shed, as far as I know, in his time on the national stage. When he finishes, he reaches inside his pocket, pulls out a white handkerchief, wipes his eyes, then carries on with his speech, returning a few times to the woman who shaped his character as much as anyone in the world.

On a different day, in a different year, such meditations on the emotional life of a politician might seem treacly. Maybe to some they do, even now. But in the context of a historic election, and of a candidate who has earned a reputation for being unflappable, it is hard not to be moved.

It is with great sadness that we announce that our grandmother, Madelyn Dunham, has died peacefully after a battle with cancer. She was the cornerstone of our family, and a woman of extraordinary accomplishment, strength, and humility. She was the person who encouraged and allowed us to take chances. She was proud of her grandchildren and great-grandchildren and left this world with the knowledge that her impact on all of us was meaningful and enduring. Our debt to her is beyond measure.

Our family wants to thank all of those who sent flowers, cards, well-wishes, and prayers during this difficult time. It brought our grandmother and us great comfort. Our grandmother was a private woman, and we will respect her wish for a small private ceremony to be held at a later date. In lieu of flowers, we ask that you make a donation to any worthy organization in search of a cure for cancer.

Obama's grandmother was clearly dear to him, and it's incredibly tragic that she won't live to see him in the White House (should, you know, he win tomorrow).

As Obama said to ABC last month:

She's really been one of the cornerstones of, of my life. And, and she's a remarkable woman. And the, the nice thing is, is that ever since people found out that I was leaving the, the campaign trail for a day, she's been, been inundated with, you know, phone calls and e-mails and flowers from total strangers. And so, maybe she is getting a sense of, of long-deserved recognition at, at, towards the end of her life.

And as he said in his acceptance speech for the nomination:

And when I hear a woman talk about the difficulties of starting her own business or making her way in the world, I think about my grandmother, who worked her way up from the secretarial pool to middle management, despite years of being passed over for promotions because she was a woman.

She's the one who taught me about hard work. She's the one who put off buying a new car or a new dress for herself so that I could have a better life. She poured everything she had into me. And although she can no longer travel, I know that she's watching tonight and that tonight is her night, as well.

At least she got to hear and see that.

This is, appropriately enough, a political fundraising method, where donors get special access and personal attention for their cash. All it is missing is cute names for each tier, like Bush's "Rangers" and Hillary Clinton's "Hillraisers." As a model for the future of professional journalism, it is perhaps worrying! But you know we're all "marketing" our "personal brands," right? Now we are microtargeting, too.

And once we are finally out of work, when Nick Denton decamps to his secret underground fortress to ride out the End Times, we will gladly email you, personally, 200 words on why Rachel Maddow is so popular in exchange for a hamburger. But who will donate to the commenters? The system is unsustainable!

Interview With Emily Brill from Stanley Stuyvesant on Vimeo.

Complete the sentence: New York is…
Eliot Spitzer: …the place where no dream is too big to come true.

If you could have a drink with another Top 40 person, who would it be?
Eliot Spitzer: These days I prefer hanging out with my kids—having dinner and encouraging them to do their homework and put aside Facebook for awhile.

Poor sad Eliot Spitzer. And also ha ha way to betray our trust in you asshole, at least it landed us this awesome new blind governor.

This would be historic. And not in the good way. As the industry has declined during this decade, almost every newspaper has suffered economically. Layoffs have become ubiquitous. Foreign bureaus have been shuttered across the board as a matter of policy.

Large metro papers, which dominate major cities but lack a national readership, have suffered the worst. Many (if not most) of them have pulled their correspondents from Washington and brought them home, to save money and cover local news, which is believed to be the wisest area of investment. The glory days are over. Salaries are down. Older, more expensive reporters and editors are urged to take buyouts. It's harder for aspiring journalists to get first jobs, or even internships.

Papers have changed physically. Their pages have shrunk. Their page count has come down. Sections which once stood alone have been combined, all to save printing and newsprint costs.

Two-paper towns are becoming a rarity. Chicago, Los Angeles, Philadelphia, Detroit, and, of course, New York all support at least two sizable papers. But some of them shouldn't. Particularly in smaller or declining markets, it's a war of attrition to see which paper can hang on the longest. The idea that two editorial viewpoints are a necessity in most cities has been rendered anachronistic by the internet.

Recent buyers of newspapers or newspaper companies have been disappointed. Brian Tierney, an ad wizard, has been unable to restore the Philadelphia papers to their former glory. Sam Zell is being sued by his own employees for the Tribune company's declining prospects. McClatchy wishes it had never bought Knight Ridder.

What we haven't seen in all this, though, is a major American city with no newspaper. Everyone believes that a paper is an essential part of a city's fabric, like city hall and the jail and the local sports team. If Newark—a town with more problems than most—is left without a paper, who will tell the world what's going on there? Who will tell Newark what its own government is up to? Even bloggers should be humble enough to pray that the Star-Ledger isn't the first in a long line of papers that disappear and leave people with no forum for the local bickering, minutiae, and moments of glory that are the real American civics lesson.

Print may be dead. But it shouldn't die before something better is in place.

[Via Radosh]

[Stereo Hell via Copyranter at Animal]

• Brad Pitt: "I lament the loss of a ferociously funny and hardcore family man. My thoughts are with [his wife] Rhonda and their family. Bernie Mac, you are already missed."
• George Clooney: "The world just got a little less funny. He will be dearly missed."

• Cedric the Entertainer: "It's hard to put into words just how I feel and what a painful loss this is. Bernie was a brother, a friend and one of the comic masters of our time. Sharing the marquee with him during the phenomenon of the Kings of Comedy tour bonded us like family, and created a unique moment in comic history marking some of the most meaningful, memorable and fun times of our lives. His comedic approach was his own brand and will definitely stand the test of time. The level of his talent always inspired me and other comedians to 'bring their A-game.' I promise you that you never wanted to be the guy who had to follow Bernie's set! As a husband and father, he was THE MAN and my thoughts and prayers are with his family. He will truly be missed, but so well remembered."

• Don Cheadle: "This is a very sad day for many of us who knew and loved Bernie. He brought so much joy to so many. He will be missed, but heaven just got funnier."

• Ocean's Eleven costar Carl Reiner: “It’s a tremendous loss because of his age and the fact that he was such a vital, original human being. When I use the word 'original' I really mean it. He was like no other person I knew. He lived his life to the fullest, even when we were on the set of Ocean's. He had his own little apartment and he cooked and invited people to lunch every day and he had food that was for everybody. He made very exotic things. His conversations were always different than any conversations I had with anyone else. They were very family-oriented; he talked about his wife and children with such love and it’s very hard to believe that he’s not with us anymore.”

• Samuel L. Jackson, Mac's co-star in the November 2008 flick Soul Men: "It goes without saying that Bernie was one of the preeminent comedians of our generation. He was also an attentive husband, a great father and loving grandfather. I feel blessed to have shared years of friendship with Bernie Mac and I'm honored to have finally co-starred with him in what I consider to be his finest cinematic acting achievement. My sincere prayer is that his family will be comforted by the warmth of love from all of us who knew and respected this man."

• Actress/comedienne Niecy Nash, who played Mac's little sister on the hit television series The Bernie Mac Show and acted opposite him in the 2005 film Guess Who, said this about her friend and mentor: "His passing is such a major loss to the acting and comedy communities. Bernie Mac was the personification of the word 'real.' He kept it real. That kind of genuine spirit that he carried all the time cannot be easily duplicated, but I will do my very best to try." [Eonline via OhNoTheyDidn't]

William McDonald
Sent: Monday, July 28, 2008 2:12 PM
To: Markarian, James
Subject: RE: Obituary for Monique Yazigi

Mr. Markarian,

Let me first express my condolences to you and other members of Monique's family. I knew her and worked with her a bit when I was an editor in the Arts & Leisure section years ago. She was immensely likable and a bright, energetic writer, and I was quite saddened to hear about her passing.

Several people here also asked whether we'd write an obit about Monique. We gave it careful consideration and spoke to some who had worked with her but ultimately came to the decision that we would not. Senior editors concurred in that decision.

We have to weigh every candidate for an obit on a common scale, with complete impartiality, and make a judgment based on a person's impact and significance — his or her newsworthiness — for a paper with a national readership. We also have limited resources — a small staff of writers. We receive hundreds of requests for obits each week, regarding very accomplished people, but can publish only a dozen so. For all Monique's talents and contributions to the Times, I and others did not feel that her story quite met our highly selective standard for a news obituary. Reasonable people may disagree and want to debate those merits. But that was my decision and it will have to stand. Last week, we also decided not to write about a medical school dean, a respected conservationist, an author and expert on African geography, to name a few. All accomplished people who made a mark. But again, we have to be very selective, given our space and resources.

Sincerely,

Bill McDonald

Now Fox gossip Roger Friedman calls this a "snippy rejection," which is a stretch-and-a-half. It's a tough call to decide that Nixon's director of Telecommunications Policy merits inclusion more than a woman who helped develop the tone and style of Sunday Styles, but you'd think there'd be room for a mention, right?

Anyway, Yazigi's trustee bought a paid obit, which ran this week, and the Times in-house newsletter featured a nice tribute, but none of that is enough to mitigate Roger Friedman's outrage.

Moberg said he didn't want to tell anyone about their breakup "because I loved the idea of people making their own endings to our unusual story." But Hayton just blabbed to the Austrlian press:

"We dated for a while, but now we're just friends," Ms Hayton says.

"It's really nice that people embraced the story. It is part of my life now."

She says she dated Mr Moberg for about two months, but it didn't work out.

"The situation was so intense that we bonded in a way that you could mistake for being more romantic than it was. But I wanted to give it a go, so I wouldn't later wonder, 'What if, what if?'."

So the relationship lasted all of two months. Maybe both people got something nice out of the experience: Moberg said he wrote a "little" illustrated book about the saga and Hayton perhaps has a gimmick for getting an audition for certain acting gigs. She landed a small role on As The World Turns and was an extra on Sex And The City!

But who dumped who? And what, exactly, went wrong? Here's a clue, from the Australian newspaper story:

"We see each other now and then and we email quite a bit - I guess that's his forte," Ms Hayton says.

Zing! Communication problems, perhaps? Yes, probably. And a lesson: If you can't introduce yourself before a crush walks out of your life forever, maybe it's best to let that person actually be out of your life forever.

Alternate lesson: It never hurts to try, even if you have to use the internet and/or embarrass yourself and so forth. You might have a fun experience!

[Herald Sun, Patrick Moberg]

"Korshunova, a green-eyed beauty, known as 'The Russian Rapunzel' for her long, flowing chestnut locks, worked with the elite modeling agency IMG, which boasts top models Heidi Klum and Kate Moss. 'Our hearts are with her family,' said IMG's representative, Zach Eichman.

"The 5-foot-8 head-turner—just days from her 21st birthday—has been featured in ads for Marc Jacobs, DKNY, Vera Wang and Christian Dior. She was discovered in 2003 when a booker from London-based Models 1, Debbie Jones, noticed her in a feature about the model's hometown of Almaty, Kazakhstan.

"'She looked like something out of a fairytale!' Jones told British Vogue. Soon after, the 17-year-old beauty was hailed as the next big thing, gracing runways at Fashion Week wearing Jill Stuart, Betsey Johnson and other designers.

"Her distraught ex-boyfriend, Artem Perchenok, 24, said that he dropped the model at her apartment at 5 a.m. after they watched the movie 'Ghost.'

"'She was a good person'" he told The Post, still reeling from the shock.

"Friends broke the tragic news to Korshunova's mom, Valentina and brother Ruslan, who still live in Kazakhstan. '[The mom] didn't believe it was real,' one close friend told the Post via phone from Moscow, Russia.

"Korshunova's best friend, Kira Titeneva broke down when she arrived at her pal's apartment late last night. 'We were talking on the phone last night,' she said. 'She loved life so much. She was an angel.' Titeneva, who grew up in her pal's hometown, said Korshunova 'wasn't wild. She was never on drugs or anything.'

"Another friend said that Korshunova seemed to be 'on top of the world.'

"'There were no signs,' said the pal who did not want to be named. 'That's what's driving me crazy. I don't see one reason why she would do that.'" [NYP]

Stern promises to appeal the ruling, first off. Which will be fun. And Stern is still suing his former employers at the New York Post! In Florida. Because Stern's lawyer Larry Klayman is a conservative political activist who keeps suing the Clintons over and over again, so now he's only only allowed to argue cases in Florida, Pennsylvania, and D.C.. Maybe some sun will do Stern good?

And hey, Stern should still look on the bright side. His life may be in shambles, but at least he's not one of the two former Page Six contributors currently in jail for statutory rape or theft. He's not even reduced to writing for Gawker! (Anymore.)

So. We all know the basics of the story. Big fun guy from Buffalo, worked in the New York Democratic party machine for Mario Cuomo and Daniel Patrick Moynihan. Made the switch to journalism, got hired by NBC in Washington, and ended up the bureau chief four short years later, in 1988.

In 1991, he took over Meet the Press and quickly became one of the most important names in DC journalism. His journalistic style was a civil, well-read version of the GOTCHA that would take control of cable.

“Lawrence Spivak, who founded ‘Meet the Press,’ told me before he died that the job of the host is to learn as much as you can about your guest’s positions and take the other side,” he said in a 2007 interview with Time magazine. “And to do that in a persistent and civil way. And that’s what I try to do every Sunday.”

This could be an irritating style. Russert's specialty was pointing out a contradiction in a politician's vast record of spoken positions. Oftentimes this meant a descent into entirely useless minutiae. Though almost as often it was enlightening, or at least entertaining. It's certainly preferable to the Chris Matthews method of shouting whatever comes to mind, no matter how crazy. And Russert always knew his shit, even when you were fairly certain he was missing the point.

From Meet the Press he dictated the conventional wisdom of Washington's political establishment—a harder trick to pull off in the days before Drudge, The Note, the internet, Politico, and the rise of what is essentially meta-journalism disguised as political analysis. Russert just selected some insiders—usually white, usually male, every week well into the 2000s (such is DC!)—and allowed them to spin their little hearts out. It's still engaging television, even when it makes you want to level Washington and maybe give Philly a second chance as Capital.

But it was as the country's wonky guide to electoral politics that he perhaps undid some of the damage of the institution of the Sunday chatfest. Because Russert and his whiteboard did an admirable, commendable job, every four years, of explaining our insane and anti-democratic political process to a nation that has always been unclear on the subject. The electoral college, slightly demystified, for one night. Civics lessons are rare on television, and effective ones should be applauded.

And yes, it's actually shocking, and sad, to think that this November all we'll have is John King and his Blade Russert touch screen wall, or Keith Olbermann and his pseudo-gravitas, or poor bored Katie Couric to guide us through that stressful Tuesday night nationwide farce.

Russert died at work, as we said, at NBC's Washington studios. He is survived by his wife, Maureen Orth, his son Luke, and, tragically, his father, the hero of Tim's happily non-self-aggrandizing 2004 memoir, Big Russ and Me.

(Attached: a video montage of some of Tim's notable television moments.)

NBC'S Tim Russert Dead at 58 [MSNBC]

Oh no! Poor sad Jim McGreevey. At least he has adorable puppies to cheer him up.