Hamilton,

It seemed like a good idea at the time. Sometimes the commitment to generate publicity can get an agency in trouble. As you noted in your post, one of our more aggressive marcom specialists at Fleishman-Hillard developed a news release for a client that made light of the FOX News green room. Understandably, the folks at FOX didn't appreciate it. One of our strengths is maintaining good relationships with major media like FOX. We talked with our friends at FOX, and also made a note to our file on how to avoid these situations in the future.

Rich Jernstedt
CMO
Fleishman-Hillard

Let's examine three fitness programs profiled in the last two days:

1. Crossfit, via the NYT—CrossFit is an internet-based cult of fitness for psychos, itinerant preachers, ex-killers, and crazy people of all stripes. I have met some people who do CrossFit, and they are scarily in shape and also not at all fun to be around. All you have to do is complete the psycho workout routine posted online every day. Sample, from Friday:

For time:
15 Handstand push-ups
1 L Pull-up
13 Handstand push-ups
3 L Pull-ups
11 Handstand push-ups
5 L Pull-ups
9 Handstand push-ups
7 L Pull-ups
7 Handstand push-ups
9 L Pull-ups
5 Handstand push-ups
11 L Pull-ups
3 Handstand push-ups
13 L Pull-ups
1 Handstand push-up
15 L Pull-ups

Post time to comments.

Seriously, just forget CrossFit. It will make you insane.

2. Gyrotonics, via the NY Sun—Gyrotonics is based on a huge, complicated machine that is specially designed to extract money from the wallets of idly rich women. It looks like this:

The hustle is that you have to go to some particular specialist on this particular machine to help you unlock its magical potential, while you pay them handsomely for their secret knowledge. Here's another idea: grab a towel, pull it till your shoulders feel stretched out, then go run stairs until you're in shape. Fuck gyrotonics.

3. "Hollywood's Dirty Diet Secrets," via the NYDN—finally, something real. Also, sick. Did you know Hollywood starlets go on crazy crash diets which consist mostly of smoking, drinking coffee, and doing coke, supplemented only by lettuce or boiled eggs or lemonade or something equally ridiculous? Yes, you probably did know that. Combining laxative tea with fasting and five-hour daily workouts reportedly produces some real results. The downside is that you will be totally dead pretty quick. But yes, you will leave a pretty corpse.

What does it really take to get fit? Nothing more than an iron will, the Eye of the Tiger, buckets of sweat, hours of pain, days of hope, years of conquest, and THIS:

Saw Jack McBrayer sitting outside at the Bone Lick Park barbecue joint at Greenwich and 7th Avenues, looking way hotter than he does on 30 Rock. Sporting a thick head of au natural, gel-free hair and a kinda sexy just-got-back-from-a-relaxing-tropical-vacation tan. Was with some bearded hipster guy chowing down lunch. I was looking at him like "I know that guy from somewhere" when we made eye contact before I realized, "Hey, that's Kenneth?! He's not even dorky!" He looks like a nice guy.

"Brooklyn principles can be found anywhere that young people gather to share their search for love and meaning, a search that they alone are qualified to pursue by virtue of their pristine vision of the deep oneness of things. Whereas physical danger or emotional grief leaves most people lonely or ruined or dead, they triumph over adversity.... [The resulting books are] kitsch, which Milan Kundera defined as 'the translation of the stupidity of received ideas into the language of beauty and feeling [that] moves us to tears of compassion for ourselves, for the banality of what we think and feel.'"

The one problem with Brooklyn writers that goes unmentioned is that they discard all criticisms. In the land of emotional truth, who can be wrong? So while history may prove this essay on-target, it's a bit like the crazy lady muttering in the food co-op—everyone can hear her but oh my God isn't all that organic home-grown kale just so special and amazing?

Wonder Bread [American Scholar, via]

Dear Tionna,

Crying in Clinton Hill

Dear Crying in Clinton Hill,

First off, dry those tears! Tionna is here to help you. What Suzanne did was maddd wack. She broke the code; she messed with your ex girl. You said that this was someone that she wanted to get down and dirty with and you knew that. I have learned in my past with heavy drinkers that a drunk tongue speaks the truth, so her sleeping with Molly is something that she wanted to do and she did it.

I will give Suzanne some credit: she did admit that she cheated once she was busted. Most people don't! And Molly only told you because she's a hater and mad that you have moved on with your life and have someone new that you love and adore. Like you said, a person with the "characteristics."

Molly isn't really a threat. However, she can turn into one based on the fact that she works near Suzanne. But I think if you think Suzanne really has a thing for Molly and you still want Suzanne ... Do what my friend D did: Make it a 3-some relationship! People do it every day. They live in a relationship with three people. I am so serious and it works for them. Then you won't have to be stressed because you know everything. Think about it like this- you had sex with Molly, you had sex with Suzanne, Suzanne had sex with you, Suzanne had sex with Molly, Molly had sex with you, Molly had sex with Suzanne. Hell, y'all a team already and dont even know it. So why not reap the benefits of having two women since Molly is always around anyway.

But if you don't want anything to do with Molly at all in that way or can't face seeing them two being intimate around you, then end all ties with Molly and ask Suzanne to make a choice. I know it will hurt if she picks Molly over you but at least you will know what's up. See what happens. But I still think the triad thing would be a great idea.

Ooh, definitely let me know how this goes.

Tionna

Tionna,

I'm in a big problem. I've been seeing this guy for the past year; now it hasn't been the best of relationships but I've become emotionally attached and there are times i just want to walk away. I haven't met any of his close friends/family or really know that much about him. I've spend almost every night with him and in the past I've snooped ... YES ... I snooped and found e-mails/myspace messages and texts all that allude to the fact that he maybe cheated on me if not physically then definitely verbally. He has a Myspace and never approves any of my comments and hides his friends so i can't see them. Aside from that the relationship hasn't been that great. He stays home all of the time when he's not working and never goes out with me. Granted I haven't been with anyone else but I have gone out with other guys when he is to lazy and stays home. So you're probably wondering why I'm still with him. I guess i am too. Overall, he is a sweet guy and cares for me but he doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve.

So this past weekend I ran into his friends and of course they do not know me but through the power of Myspace i know who they are and what they look like. I told my b/f they were there and hitting on me...but i never once told them who i was since the b/f wouldn't like that so i remained a mystery. Meanwhile his good friend—a very hot friend—was hitting on me nonstop. I forgot what it was like to have some guy hit on me even if he just wanted to get in my panties. Oh I forgot to mention i was with a guy friend of mine who apparently liked me more than just a friend. So the guy (the friend of my b/f) asked for my number but I didn't give it to him instead I took his and danced the night away with him. Tionna, all I keep thinking about is this dude and i know it's wrong and I'm not that slutty girl that breaks up friendships or any of that but i think I'm fascinated with something NEW and EXCITING and I'm tempted every day to just pick up the phone and call him.

Please help..what would you do?

ttyl - LP

Dear LP,

Your problem really isn't a big problem but many women go through these same issues. First, you never met any of his family or close friends, then you snooped into his email/Myspace (a no-no), then you assumed that he has cheated on you based on your snooping. LMAO.

First off, let be the first to tell you that Myspace is a relationship killer. When I was a freshman in college, I took a class on Internet and Identity and you know what the whole thesis of the class was that people's identities change when their real one is shielded by the computer. So what you may think is "cheating" is what we call in the hood "Myspace G." That is G meaning game. Everyone on Myspace plays a game. That's why so many people love it. You can be whatever you want on Myspace; a baller, a single guy, a singer, whatever. Its all game so don't assume he's cheating on you from that bullcrap.

Another thing is, theres no such thing as verbal cheating. Verbally, we can say what the hell we want. That doesn't mean that we mean it. If he's online telling some chick yeah, we gotta hook up or whatever, that doesn't mean anything. I have over 4,000 friends on Myspace and get plenty of messages of men saying what they would and wouldn't do to me because I can't do anything to them, they don't know my ass. So who cares? That's how people think. If talking was a sin, we would all be in hell right now—feel me?

So don't use that against him and stop snooping! That is corny and we always end up being the ones hurt by that (I have learned that the hard way) and now it's something you can pass along to someone else.

Lastly, your man forgot that what he doesn't do another man will be happy and willing to do in a hot NY minute. But you can't teach him that by taking his friend's number on the low. All that does is make you seem like a skeet and maybe that's why he didn't want to introduce you to his friends in the first place. Communication is the key in any relationship, so go and talk it out with him. Put everything on the table and if his response doesn't bring closure to the problem, leave his laid back ass alone.

Good luck and keep in touch,

Tionna

Come on, just ask her!

I bought Frey's book, before The Smoking Gun debunked so much of it, and I liked it. I'm a sucker for confessions. (Hey, even Gawker loved him on first sight, back in January of 2003.) I love writers who specialize in wide-open honesty; it's sort of my favorite thing, actually. My favorite writers—Kathy Acker, Eileen Myles, Jonathan Ames, David Sedaris, Cookie Mueller, Sylvia Plath, Colette, Mary Gaitskill, Phoebe Gloeckner, Aline Kominsky-Crumb, Dawn Powell—are all expert confessors.

Oh, and here are the people whose confessions generally rub me the wrong way: Chuck Klosterman, Neal Pollack, Nick Hornby, Steve Almond, Julie Powell, Elizabeth Gilbert, Stephanie Klein. The people whose confessions often reek of bragging, even when—especially when—the bragging is along the lines of "look how disgusting/uncool/modest/bad at relationships I am." Or: "look at what a lame person I used to be."

But I liked A Million Little Pieces specifically because James Frey seemed to eschew that kind of self-mythologizing. There was something about the book that just felt... honest. True. Which means, I guess, that Frey is a very talented writer? Or maybe just a very, very talented liar.

Frey didn't just pull an Augusten Burroughs—it's not like the lies were "discrepancies" attributable to "we all have our own personal truths," though he did use nearly that exact lame line. He blatantly wrote about factual things that never occurred as if they'd happened to him, and in doing so, made his readers feel sympathy and vicarious pain. He toyed with our emotions, and when we found out we'd been lied to, we felt betrayed. I did, at least—and, hey, Oprah did! And everyone who said, "well, it's still a really well-written book" seriously has something wrong with them.

But apparently it's a big so-what. Our culture isn't into consequences. Shame is the new fame. What yesterday's news means is that James Frey's career will continue, and as it does, the story of the fraud he perpetrated on four million readers will drift further and further down the page in any profile written about him, until it's in the last paragraph, until it's in the last line, until it's not there at all.

George Saunders, in an essay about how reading Johnny Tremain changed his life, wrote:

Working with language is a means by which we can identify the bullshit within ourselves (and others). If we learn what a truthful sentence looks like, a little flag goes up at a false one. False prose can mark an attempt to evade responsibility, or something more diabolical; the process of improving our prose disciplines the mind, hones the logic, and most importantly, tells us what we really think.

You know that Miss Teen USA contestant Lauren Caitlin Upton, the one who gave a retarded answer to a stupid question and became an instant YouTube sensation? Last week, the wire services were full of pictures of her, going to fashion shows and parties. She's famous now. In a few more weeks, no one will remember what she originally became famous for. They'll only know that they know her name.

HARRY: You're the head of this hugely successful publishing house ... how could you miss little me?

JUDITH:
You're adorable and the older men in this city are cretins.

HARRY:
What about Isaac Hirsch?

JUDITH:
He's dead, Harry.

HARRY:
That's ... heartbreaking.

JUDITH: (FLIRTY)
Are you making fun of me? Don't make fun of me, Harry.

HARRY:
I'm amusing you, Judith. Isn't that what I do? Amuse you?

JUDITH: (STANDING TOO CLOSE)
When am I gonna see you again?

HARRY: (HESITANT)
Soon. I promise. This week.

JUDITH:
How about tomorrow night? You wanna amuse me tomorrow night?

JUDITH touches HARRY'S dick through his pants.

HARRY: (TIGHT, LITTLE VOICE)
Tomorrow night sounds great.

JUDITH smiles, quickly baring her teeth, then turns away.

Writing on his MySpace blog, the catty Bass writes, "This dumb reporter just put words in my mouth..." Now you think he'd be used to things being put in his mouth (ZING!) but he's pretty steamed. He also offers persuasive proof that he never said those things that she said he said.

I told her I eat at Justins new place all the time, but it is really far away in the upper east side and always full of a college crowd. She turned that into " Lance doesnt go to Justins restaurant cause its too far away and he doesnt like it because he is not in college anymore!" Um.. I didnt go to college, why the hell would I say that!

This girl should be working for the Enquirer instead of a legit magazine!

Update:: New York magazine responds.

(1) We stand by the interview; Bass was not misquoted. (2) Bass is not quoted as saying New Yorkers have no style — it's clear that he's referring to the apartments he looked at. (3) The piece also does not suggest that Bass doesn't hang out at Justin Timberlake's restaurant. In fact, it specifically quotes him as saying he goes there. (4) Though Bass's quote about his dancing ability ("I was the worst dancer in the band") has not been called into question, we'd like to reiterate that Bass was, indeed, the worst dancer in 'N Sync. (5) Bass now says he's going bi-coastal; he never mentioned that to us, but we're glad to hear it! Welcome to New York, Lance.

Schnabel called the building's color "Pompeii red...." [Schnabel's partner Brian] Kelly dubbed the building's color "dusty rose"—then later said Schnabel is describing it as "Venetian red." Or! "It's straight out of Cuba, or Venice, or Florence," Kelly said of the building's design and color. "Venice mostly—it's Venetian. There's buildings like this in Naples, in Palermo, Sicily. If you go to Cuba, you see buildings like this."

Venetian Red or Pepto Pink? [The Villager]