Literary enthusiasts were shocked to learn that a video of New York Times Book Review editor Sam Tanenhaus and prominent litblogger Edward Champion had been released to YouTube. The two men are seen smiling and laughing, and then hugging each other. The tape cuts out at the 2:14 mark, just as the two men appear to be initiating a French kiss.

“Again, this demonstrates that the Internet is sub-literary,” said Tanenhaus, who claimed that the man on the tape was an impostor. “I am under no obligation to acknowledge that litblogger’s hugs.”

“What can I say?” said Champion. “Sam and I have a love-hate relationship. You’ve only seen the hate part. Deep down, Sam’s a good guy.”

Prominent litbloggers were prompt in their reactions, accusing Mr. Champion of selling out to get a reviewing gig with the New York Times Book Review.

Deputy editor Dwight Garner, however, had this to say: “Hell will freeze over before that edrants guy is published in these pages. You have my word on that. I don’t know what’s going on with Sam. He seems unwell these days. But that’s his business, not yours.”

This morning, a visibly frustrated Jonathan Safran Foer cooked himself some sausage and bacon for breakfast, vowing to the world that he would begin eating meat. “They’ve been making fun of me for the past few years for being young and successful,” said Foer, whose growling stomach was clearly not digesting the sudden carnivorous eating habits very well. “I want to show those bastards that I mean serious business.”

Foer’s wife, Nicole Krauss, revealed to reporters that she didn’t see this coming.

“I certainly didn’t expect him to turn to pork right before passover,” said Krauss, who was quite adamantly against eating meat. Krauss, however, did confess that Oprah had made the right move bringing baby-in-a-spit narratives to surburban audiences. Staffers from the Wall Street Journal plan to have Krauss take a polygraph test.

When a journalist remained unconvinced of Foer’s meat-eating habits, Foer grabbed an expensive-looking knife, proceeded to slice his wrist open and began supping of his own blood.

“You see! You can call me Jonny “Hard Core” Foer from now on, you little prick!”

The journalist then apologized. He worked for the New York Sun.