Sa-wing, batter batter batter, sa-wing!
We here at Vanity Fair maintain a kind of affectionate rivalry with our downstairs neighbors at The New Yorker. We play softball every year, compete for some of the same stories, and share an elevator bank. (You can tell the ones who are headed to the 20th floor by their Brooklyn pallor and dog-eared paperbacks.)
And heaven knows we’ve published our share of scandalous images, on the cover and otherwise. So we’ve been watching the kerfuffle over last week’s New Yorker cover with a mixture of empathy and better-you-than-us relief.
We had our own presidential campaign cover in the works, which explored a different facet of the Politics of Fear, but we shelved it when The New Yorker’s became the “It Girl†of the blogosphere. Now, however, in a selfless act of solidarity with our downstairs neighbors here at the Condé Nast building, we’d like to share it with you. Confidentially, of course. (I hate to excerpt the whole thing, but, it is only three paragraphs long.
And what does the cover look like?
I suppose it would be easy to pitch a fit over portraying Cindy McCain as a druggie, we see the burning Constitution, McCain with the walker, but, why bother? People in politics have to have thick skins.
The point here is that Vanity Fair has completely missed the point of the The New Yorker cover, which was intended to make fun of people on the right (and Hillary supporters!) who were painting Obama as a Muslim, Michelle as …. well, you know the deal. So, instead of putting the cover out there as making fun of the Liberal talking points, which are portrayed, VF is making fun of TNY and McCain.
Far be it for me to say that Liberals just don’t get it, but, screw it, they just don’t get it. Reality Based Community. Strike 3!
See tons more at Memeorandum.
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