Let it not be said that the Tanenhaus Brownie Watch falls in line with the sleazy incest de rigueur within the New York publishing world. This week, we find ourselves caught in a minor ethical quandary. The upshot is this: While said conflict of interest is picayune, it nevertheless prevents us from fulflling our duties and assessing this week’s NYTBR with fairness, integrity and due diligence. We’re ashamed to come across as such sanctimonious Boy Scouts. But we’re men of our word. And therein lies the rub.
It’s a pity, because this leaves the wonderful Jonathan Ames (who, as previously stated, we shall promote with every visceral fiber) flailing in the dust. And Tanenhaus himself would have likely passed at least two of the three tests.
Again, we wish to assure our readers that we would like nothing more than to send Mr. Tanenhaus a brownie or tear the NYTBR a new one, depending upon Tanenhaus’ efforts and the severity of our Sunday morning hangovers. But while not as foppishly off base as Barth’s Ebenezer Cooke, we are, believe it or not, devoted to certain things.
The fact that it is a preternaturally sunny day in this City of Fog or that the drum circle in Golden Gate Park is alive and thrumming does not grant us succor.
Until next week…
DOES SAM GET HIS BROWNIE?: Inconclusive
Well, I don’t go all out, but I do dig into SOME of this weekend’s issue, in a way that would deny the brownie, on Beatrix, where I dig into the Phyllis Diller review:
Comments are closed.