Here in Gotham City, this is the weekend of The New Yorker
Festival. It’s been a lot of fun before, though you’d never know it
from this not-very-engaging slide
show of previous fests. Will somebody please clue The New
Yorker folks into the technological wonders of the Web? They make the
party look dull, like snapshots from a rumpus room circa 1955.
All of today’s Fiction Night readings are sold out,
except for three pairings — Donald Antrim and
Meloy and Thomas McGuane‘s.
Poor kids … left at the altar. I’d bet they’ll be SRO by the time the doors open. Meantime,
since it’s Friday, let’s go out on a low note with laughs: If you haven’t seen it yet, “The Gospel of Supply Side Jesus” is just the