The New Yorker

I love reading the New Yorker. I love that the lay-out and font haven't changed since 1925. I stack unread issues and pack them when I leave on weekends and holidays to savor the time spent with them.

My New Yorker ritual has a precise order: first I skim through the comics and look at every single advertising (they are the best, small captions selling bow ties, exclusive AA and eating disorders retreats, sailing vacations in New England..); Then I start with the Talk of the Town, where anyone can feel like a New Yorker; Then I read the movie reviews which are so predictable because so sarcastic with every single film, everyone is treated as equally worthless, with equal emphasis put on a Raul Ruiz feature showing for three days at the Angelika or The Night at the Museum IV; Then I read the Bruce McCall piece if any and refrain from scanning it to share it with friends because it's so brilliant; Then I read the political which will never be the same after The West Wing (my dad would love to hear this after having sponsored Law School); Then I rush to what is left, which is usually still the best (I love their science and medical articles); And I keep fiction for the end.