Monday, February 21, 2011

Happy anniversary ...

... The New Yorker's 85th.
See also: Whose Line Is It, Anyway? (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)

It will be human. Its general tenor will be one of gaiety, wit and satire, but it will be more than a jester. It will be not what is commonly called sophisticated, in that it will assume a reasonable degree of enlightenment on the part of its readers. It will hate bunk . . . .

So wrote Harold Ross, the New Yorker's first editor. Wonder what he would think of today's New Yorker.

Post bumped.


  1. "Hating bunk" is already a pose, which could only have led to more poses. The first step of the descent begins with not only "hating bunk," but to be seen as "hating bunk."

  2. The sparkling lightness suggested by the phrase 'gaiety, wit and satire' is missing most of the time these days, I think - and yet I still subscribe (for the cartoons, the poems and short stories, if nothing else).