"I'd like to think time will tell, because you can't really judge your programming skills in a strike-shortened, 18-month period."
Another day, another anti-Kindle story in the 'Times.' We've helpfully brainstormed a few angles for their next article on the dangers or e-readers.
Get a room, you two!
They sold photos to British tabloids of her in her home against her wishes, apparently.
It certainly seems like it!
'Perhaps in another life,' you whisper, while a witch doctor inks our matching tattoos.
Since when is a critic obligated to frame his review in such a way that it's unobjectionable to anti-gay interest groups?
Bono will write six music-related op-eds for the New York 'Times' over the next year.
As summer-desperate editors have always known, any idea, no matter how goofy, can be stretched into a popular recurring feature.
We can just imagine poor, hungry Sean Carlson opening up his 'Times' today and reading about Le Poisson Rouge.
We still don't want to see 'Space Chimps,' but we do want to see Neil Genzlinger write more movie reviews!
Possible proof that all the world's newsmakers are on vacation this week.
Jokes one exec: 'Maybe Maddox and the twins can star in it.'
We can't be the only ones who had that reaction upon seeing the 'Times Magazine''s splashy 'Mad Men' cover story.
Abrams is developing a movie about a family whose designer turned their $8.5 million apartment into a real-life 'National Treasure.'
A.O. Scott and Manohla Dargis take stock of American cinema, now that Judd Apatow has remade Hollywood in his own image.
The serious Abu Ghraib documentary or the stoner Guantánamo comedy?
It's not often that you go into opening night already knowing that both critics for the 'Times' are already on record as disliking your show.
Clint Eastwood will win Best Picture, Michelle Trachtenburg will appear on Gossip Girl, and Ryan Adams will blog, hilariously.
The gifted actress' 1,000,000th uncomfortable interview.
No offense to the excellent rabble-rousers over at Gawker, but we'd answer that question with a chuckle and a dismissive wave of the hand.
The Times investigates "art anxiety," or, as we call it, "being chickenshit."
A masterpiece of tortured syntax.
That's quite a photo on the front page of the Times.
But is it really love?