No, no, not really. I know nothing about labor relations at the NYer (thank goodness), but often as not at these storied publications even the unhappy workers are far too entwined in the culture—or secretly content in their grouching—to ever machete their way out unless it's done for them. Besides, you'd be a great catch for the booby hatch to leave the best magazine in America (say it with me..."probably the best magazine that ever was"). Here's some sports journalism from those little imps at Gawker:

Summer in New York means one thing, and one thing alone: Conde Nast sports leagues! The grass is green, the air is warm, and it's time for the Vogue girls to don their Team Judgeypants t-shirts while the GQ boys to pretend they know how to throw a baseball. Start sending us scores and schedules, and we’ll be at every game with oranges and juice boxes.

We hear that the softball teams for Vanity Fair and the New Yorker went head to head last night, with New Yorker editor David Remnick pitching. Our source says the game was surprisingly tense and “exciting,” but VF still easily won.

First VF gets the Deep Throat scoop, then they hand Remnick his ass on a plate at a softball game? Tread gently around 4 Times Square today; bruised egos are tender and Graydon Carter might be particularly maniacal.