Scocca warned Gawker that it should stop mocking his manboobs. It was a funny threat for the paper's JV sports columnist to be making, because it implied that the Observer was in a position to control anything unrelated to whatever senior moments Rex Reed was having that week.

As it turned out, it wasn't. The paint was empty when Scocca lobbed his first lame insult at the other website. The volley was returned so deftly that Scocca was forced to add a quick "related" link to its post, in hopes that people wouldn't realize that it had been a cheap, retaliatory shot for Gawker's blind item concerning reporter Spencer Morgan.

So much for professional pride. Before Scocca posts any more entries about the way the game ought to be played, he might want to show that he knows how to play the game at all.

Scocca's warning and the dirtiness that followed were the first signs that anyone at the Observer felt any sense of possession about a paper that exists as a shell of what it once was (i.e., Candace Busnhell stories about how New Yorkers fuck) while its sorry employees await the inevitable dissolution that will come when its owner liquidates it in order to fund his purchase of a box factory in Bayonne.

Scocca's noisy failure with the Observer is an enigma that has sent many to the thesaurus in search of synonyms for albino. As a writer, he occasionally turned a nice phrase, wrapped in viciousness, wrapped in a beaming smile. The smile was a mask on the viciousness, but it was also a genuine mark of the joy underneath, the pleasure an acceptable columnist for a dying weekly broadsheet great could take in his averageness. Now the talent has been hollowed out. All that's left is paleness and a smile.

Related: Who Needs a Basketball Lesson from the Knicks? [NYO]

UPDATE: Scocca claims that the initial "related" was always there and offers this cached file as evidence. We dispute the point; as best we remember, the post was initially unadorned with the link, which seemed hastily added. But we tend to drink a lot, so we're willing to concede this one (but nothing else) to Tom. Also, we challenge him to a duel.

The language was flourishy to match: "Beijing, Bangalore and Bethesda" ... "from Canton, Ohio, to Canton, China." Metaphors flourished themselves into trouble. "What these steroids do is turbocharge all these new forms of collaboration," Mr. Friedman said. Also: "Mother Nature always bats last.""Whatever can be done will be done," Mr. Friedman said. "Will it be done by you or to you?" He repeated the question. By you or to you? He told a story about going to Hungary and being driven around. His driver had asked him—"Mister Tom, Mister Tom"—to refer friends to him, if they visited Hungary. The driver, Mr. Friedman said, had given him the U.R.L. of his Web site: a hired Hungarian driver with his own Internet presence. Imagine!

Not Since Nixon—Friedman in China, Sells Tom's World [NYO]
Bring in the Green Cat [NYT]

Earlier: Gawker's coverage of Tom Friedman

The book (or proposal) is tentatively titled The Future Is Next Year: On the Cusp of New China, and Scocca aims "to be in Beijing for the critical year of 2007, seeing and writing about what happens as China closes in on hosting and competing in the 2008 Olympics—and closes in on its future." This means, obviously, that Scocca's moving, leaving wee Manhattan for the pulsating streets of Beijing, though he'll still continue to write and edit for the Observer. How they negotiate the 12-hour time difference remains to be seen.

And the real story: Scocca's wife works in Beijing as the deputy director of the Clinton Foundation's HIV/AIDS initiative in China. So really, this is all a complex and profitable way for Scocca to get back his sex life.

Yeah, The Hud was gonna leave Conde Nast to write about the comings and going of assistant fashion editors at WWD for a dollar an hour. We're sure whatever Calderone's making doesn't even cover Morgan's collar-popping allowance.

Breaking: Observer's Transfers Columnist Michael Calderone is On the Record

Then the Pixies popped up on my laptop, playing on Dennis Miller, I was transported: I was standing in front of my dorm-room television, 14 years in the past, in the peach-tinged glare of an early-generation halogen torchiere [...] I felt a gleeful kick as Black Francis scurried up to the mike and announced they were covering a "Reid Brothers song"—a secret handshake to us viewers who not only knew the Jesus and Mary Chain, but knew the Jesus and Mary Chain's names. The band tore through "Head On," just like they'd torn through it in 1992.

YouTube wha? Clearly Scocca would much rather be writing about his beloved Pixies — in the slow media summer, who wouldn't? — so in the spirit of opportunity, we're allowing him to share his top 10 Pixies songs (iTunes playlist obviously TK):

Tom Scocca's Top 10 Pixies Songs
1. Bone Machine
2. Break My Body
3. Gigantic
4. Gouge Away
5. The Holiday Song
6. In Heaven
7. Oh, My Golly!
8. Rock Music
9. There Goes My Gun
10. Where Is My Mind?
Bonus: Debaser, as covered by a Japanese band called Feed

There you go! Now you don't even have to read the article.

The YouTube Devolution [NYO]

• Nadine Hay-ahbsh.
• Andrew Crew-cough.
• Tom Sko-kuh.
• Jeff Burr-KO-vuh-see.
• Corky Shuh-mosh-ko.

Earlier:
Gawker Explainer: Names in the News
Gawker Explainer: More Names in the News
Related:
Gawker's coverage of Nadine Haobsh
Gawker's coverage of Andrew Krucoff
Tom Scocca's Media Mob [NYO]
Jeff Bercovici's Memo Pad [WWD]
Archive search for Siemaszko [NYDN]

There is so much to be thankful for this year! As I sit down for a heaping plate of Tofurky, I'll say thanks for the past 12 months that brought us Thursday Styles, Men's Vogue and Judy Miller! But the joy of the media wouldn't tell the whole story if I didn't take a moment to be thankful for friends, family and co-workers. L'chaim!

And, more goyishly, Tom Scocca:

I am thankful for the BLT from Shine Deli. White toast, please, and mayo. I am also thankful for Joyce Wadler and for the newsstand under the Flushing Main Street LIRR tracks where I get my Sunday papers.

Marketwatcher Jon Friedman:

After seeing the cruel fates that Judy Miller, Maureen Dowd and Bob Woodward have suffered so far in 2005, I guess I should be VERY thankful that I never won a Pulitzer — the friggin' prize must be jinxed! Seriously, I'm thankful that the media performed so well in New Orleans — and contributed a rare showing of dignity amid journalism's rubble this year.

WWD goliath Jeff Bercovici:

I am thankful Kent Brownridge doesn't read my expense reports.

Advertising Age Media Guy Simon Dumenco:

Right now, as of this very moment, I'm thankful for my DVR and for Family Guy reruns. And for what Ted Koppel did for 25 years. And for Joan Didion's The Year of Magical Thinking. And for the Firefox web browser, with the "ScrapBook" plug-in. And, as always, for Pat Kiernan doing NY1's "In the Papers" on Time Warner Cable in Manhattan. And, what the hell, for Gawker. God bless us, everyone!

And, for Simon, NY1's Pat Kiernan:

I'm thankful for the MTA weekend discount that is about to go into effect. With this "two for one" deal, and the fact that it usually takes twice as long to get somewhere on the subway on a Sunday, now it will feel like I'm getting four times my money's worth!