I always brighten up when I see there's a Bruce Eric Kaplan cartoon in the new issue, as there is, in fact, in this new issue. In the cartoon anthology, Bob Mankoff (I assume; the essays aren't credited) writes, "Kaplan's people bicker and kvetch in a spare, Beckett-like universe whose ontological principle seems to be 'Life Sucks'.... The action, such as it is, is confined within carefully outlined rectangles, lit by the kind of blinding light that precedes alien encounters in science-fiction shows."

Kaplan's also in the current L.A. Weekly—if you aren't signed up for their weekly update, it's really worth it. Terrific writers, smart reviews, and just enough but not too much of that exotic "Californian" perspective. Here's the cartoon.

As soon as I got my second-class issue today (actually, a Manhattan friend told me that her magazine fails to arrive three weeks out of four), I went to my favorite diner and surveyed the table of contents. Which I did with some difficulty, considering the Ralph Lauren model on the opposite page and his stripey paisley chainy kerchiefy outfit, which I almost forgave due to his arresting eyes and unplucked brows, then reconsidered in light of his slightly mean-looking mouth. Here's what I looked forward to most:

—Nancy Franklin on Fat Actress. I don't watch very much TV except with my cherished and cabled-up friends who know all there is to know about reality shows, but I read whatever Franklin writes anyway because it's so damn smart. I've been fond of Alley ever since 1985 when I saw her play Gloria Steinem infiltrating the New York Playboy Club in the TV movie A Bunny's Tale, which was a mind-blowing moment for me at age 13. (I've read the piece now; very satisfying.)



—A Mark Strand poem!

—Anthony Lane on Sin City, because I loved the preview. (Review features an electrifying description of watching a film at a film festival—"in a cinema of eight hundred and thirty-two seats, every one of them occupied"!)

—Sasha Frere-Jones on Slint. (Dense; good. Cameo by the Pyramid, where I used to go dance, and which permanently hurt my left eardrum, and on whose steep stairs I once slipped and fell, causing deep and unsightly bruises. I miss that place!)

—Sean Wilsey on his unorthodox SF upbringing, as outlined earlier. (Fantastic pictures. Saving the piece for a treat tomorrow.)

— Hilton Als on Denzel Washington in Julius Caesar. (Not much of a review; he's much more interested in Jeffrey Wright and Ben Stiller in This Is How It Goes. I think I've had enough of reading about Neil LaBute and his "part Pinter, part 'Jackass,' " sensibility for a while.)

—Cartoons by Roz Chast (Back Page; funny but not up to her usual standard), Bruce Eric Kaplan (have I mentioned I like Bruce Eric Kaplan? His three-square signature rocks), Victoria Roberts, William Hamilton (after many years of loathing him, I've come around to seeing how brilliantly silly his cartoons are, and what loving attention he pays to the firmness of the breasts in his drawings), Leo Cullum, and, last but hardly least, Charles Barsotti, creator of startling squiggles about cruelty and noodles.

—The Mail, all about Peter Boyer's "Jesus in the Classroom."

—Richard Preston on mathematicians and the unicorn tapestries.

There's more, obviously. I'm quietly pleased because I've been playing a little game with myself to see if I can guess the Talk writer before the byline (since they're often cleverly placed on the following page), and I've gotten the Ben McGrath entry right for several weeks in a row now. It's partly the subject matter (in this case, the Daily News/New York Post dustup), partly the jaunty tone. Anyway, I'm getting better. Now if only I could apply that to all those back issues with no signatures...