Sometimes I just don't get the New Yorker. Couldn't this concept be used in just about any presidential election? Is it even a concept? Does it go far enough? Does it go anywhere? Am I missing something?
Nothing whatsoever against Richard McGuire here - but where's the wit, where's the metaphor, where's the pointy editorializing that says something original, incisive, and possibly scathing about this cycle's national brawl? What? They are all fighting each other? Not even in a mud pit or a pig pen? As cheap reality show contestants? Fighting over the captain's chair on the Titanic? (Hey, I'm just throwing stuff out there - gimme a break.)
Again, it's the everlovin' New Yorker, the creme of the magazine creme, and yet they pull this kind of flat statement-of-the-obvious non-concept thing all the time. I don't know... Is it dry? I know they like the dry stuff - but is it? Is it brimming with subtle charm and quiet truth? Again, those qualities seem far short of the hard-hitting kick to the balls you'd expect given the scale of the hideous shitstorm going on. I'm not claiming to be an expert here or even remotely worthy of the New Yorker, but it seems a long, long unfunny way from the blistering wit found at the Algonquin round table - or more likely underneath it.