Or so writes Joseph Epstein in the Weekly Standard here.
The New York Times used to be called the Gray Lady of American
newspapers. The sobriquet implied a certain stateliness, a sense of
responsibility, the possession of high virtue. But the Gray Lady is far
from the grande dame she once was. For years now she has been going
heavy on the rouge, lipstick, and eyeliner, using a push-up bra, and
gadding about in stiletto heels. She?s become a bit?perhaps more than a
bit?of a slut, whoring after youth through pretending to be with-it.
I?ve had it with the old broad; after nearly 50 years together, I?ve
determined to cut her loose….
…Every so often I check to remind myself that Maureen Dowd isn?t
amusing, though she is an improvement, I suppose, over the termagantial
Anna Quindlen, whom I used to read with the trepidation of a drunken
husband mounting the stairs knowing his wife awaits with a rolling pin.
I?d sooner read the fine print in my insurance policies than the
paper?s perfectly predictable editorials. Laughter, an elegant phrase,
a surprising sentiment?the New York Times op-ed and editorial pages are the last place to look for any of these things.