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Another Washington Post Company subsidiary is under fire from the New York media, this one for not turning a profit.* I don’t have much energy to devote to this critical-esque Observer profile of Slate editor in chief Jacob Weisberg except to point out that paragraphs like this:
The sense within the company (and shared, a bit more intensely, by his peers outside of it) is that all this is fine, but maybe not a full load for a journalist of Mr. Weisberg’s stature — a guy whose name came up early and often in 2006 as a potential successor to Jim Kelly as the editor of Time.
…really don’t garner enough attention for their awesome inanity, so here’s a quick listicly reminder to all the myriad different conversations we could have about how writer Nick Summers must be an exceptionally oblivious brand of strivery young hack, considering that 1. journalism as an industry is a fucking cemetery across the board and no one of any “stature” legitimately accuses anyone else of “stature” of slacking off solely on the basis that their shit isn’t profitable 2. but how much richer is this line of rationale, coming from a guy working for a rag that pays twenty cents a word (and only after you threaten to letter bomb them?) But whatever 3. Oh yeah, and editing Time, that definitely is the pinnacle of the universe, such lofty hypothetical heights from which his stature has plateaued 4. there have got to be better reasons to pick on Jacob Weisberg, like his wife running that terrible failed lifestyle magazine with this lady, or wait isn’t there something worse than that, ah yes 5. He ghostwrote Bob Rubin‘s memoir and continues to defend him from his mantle at Slate, and if not for Bob Rubin we might have an economy left in this country.