“Granted, some things require more involved assessments (like, say, James Joyce: I find his early work unparalleled in its style and its evocation of emotion, while his later writing became willfully opaque in a manner that leaves me cold). But other things don’t require this sort of elaboration (like, say, John Grisham: He sucks).” In Slate, my friend Seth Stevenson writes in defense of the word “suck.”
Tag: Seth Stevenson
Full Slate.
“Where is the analyst at a firm called Forrester Research who used to be quoted everywhere calling us, witlessly, ‘the Slatanic’? Haven’t heard much from him lately.” A happy 10th anniversary to Michael Kinsley’s Slate, home to Dahlia Lithwick, Fred Kaplan, Seth Stevenson, and several other writers and journalists invariably worth checking out.
Little House in the City.
“Sure, ‘Tiny House’ is indebted to the low-ceilinged office spaces of Being John Malkovich, but it’s still top-notch stuff. It may be the funniest ad of the past year.” While ascertaining just why there are so many Geico ads on TV, Seth Stevenson sings the praises of Tiny House.
Sippin’ on Gin and Ingsoc.
“Just what does Tanqueray have in mind here? How is this foppish hipster supposed to sell gin?” Old friend Seth Stevenson assesses Tanqueray’s new spokesman, Tony Sinclair, who has come to grace a number of bus stops and billboards in my area. For the most part, I think gin is pretty vile — When it comes to the spirits, I’m a Jameson man. That being said, I did enjoy a glass of Victory Gin while re-watching Michael Radford’s powerful version of Nineteen Eighty-Four over the weekend. Winston Smith…now there’s a spokesman Tanqueray should get behind. Doubleplusgood.
Aloe, Elea, Ernes, Elian.
“I like the act of writing on a newspaper. There’s something transgressive about scrawling on the page — right beneath Michiko Kakutani’s turf. Also, I solve in pen (because I’m a badass), and the blue ink really pops from the dull gray newsprint. I find calming beauty in the look of a finished grid.” In an article on the burgeoning sudoku phenomenon among gamers, Seth Stevenson comes clean about his crossword addiction. I’m with you, brother.
Adad Dada.
Slate‘s Seth Stevenson laments the rise of absurdity-for-its-own-sake in television commercials. I dunno…I still tend to crack up every time that Salt-n-Pepa Nextel ad comes on.
Wave the Bloody Sock.
“Here is where I should describe for you my mixed emotions as a Sox diehard, how my very nature as a fan has been transformed, how much this means to me on countless levels both as a Red Sox obsessive and as a human being. But I won’t force you to endure that. Suffice it to say the ceremony was a thrill.” Friend Seth Stevenson achieves the closure he’s been waiting for all his life at the BoSox ring ceremony.
Vox Populi.
“I’d recognize The Dude’s friendly growl anywhere. But almost no one else will…Why would Duracell pay big bucks for the voice of a Hollywood star?” In a world of commercial voices both gruff and soothing, Slate‘s Seth Stevenson delves into current trends in the voice-over industry.
Pats and Bats.
Well, there may have been no nipple sightings during this year’s somewhat sloppy Superbowl (McCartney, you tease) — nor, as Seth Stevenson points out, were there much in the way of memorable ads — but we did get another look at Batman Begins, which included what appears to be our first glimpse of The Scarecrow, as well as a disaster-movie moment from War of the Worlds. I was hoping for more, but ah well.
Frenchfries 9/11.
Along the same lines, Slate‘s Seth Stevenson scrutinizes the return of the (Burger) King.