Ron Rosenbaum sneers, in Slate, about Esquire:
The worst celebrity profile ever written?: The main thing is that the magazine wants... an unclothed Angelina Jolie clutching a wispy sheet over her nakedness. But the magazine wants you to understand that it's not running some Maxim-type lowbrow lingerie spread featuring an actress who used to be on the WB. No.... There are serious issues raised, there are profound questions about The Way We Live Now to be discussed. The result is a meretricious prose whose pretense at arch sophistication has become a schlock art form, the written equivalent of a Leroy Neiman nude...
The problem is that if you look to the left of Ron Rosenbaum's words, what do you see but "an unclothed Angelina Jolie clutching a wispy sheet over her nakedness"--a silver sheet, in fact, and between her thighs, in fact.
[No. This is an Angelina Jolie image-free zone.]
Add to this the fact that the article misspells the name of a woman to whom Ron Rosenbaum once proposed marriage, and it seems to me that Ron Rosenbaum is completely and thoroughly pwned. By himself? Deliberately? Accidently? By Slate's editors? Deliberately? Accidently?
There are Serious Issues raised. There are Profound Questions about The Way We Live Now to be discussed.