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SAME OLD MAIL FROM 1962
……………………………………………. |
7 |
GOINGS DOWN IN DA TOWN……………………………………………. |
8 |
JUST TALK………………………………………………………………….. |
23 |
Comment |
Harry Crews on slipping crystal meth on the models at the VHI Fashion Awards |
Et cetera |
Happy Kwanza: Trent Lott and the NY City Gay Men’s Chorus; fun with gerbils |
|
DEPARTMENTS
Mindless Love Zombies I Got A Better Way
Jeffrey Dahmer’s prison killer with his own recipe. |
you know this guy |
34 |
HIGH-TECH DEPT.
Cybersex: Where to Get Shagged
The stories behind the new links at our website;
Misty strokes herself
with a carrot. |
Misty
(of justrawsex.com) |
36 |
SLUTS A GO-GO
Cheever, Salinger, Barthelme…Yeah, I Had ‘Em
A New Yorker literary groupie tells all. |
Anonymous |
38 |
IN HIS OWN WORDS
Let’s Have It Out, Already
Tom comes clean (not really) about his masturbatory
fantasies. (Nude photos of Robert Crumb by
Ellis Schnitzel.) |
Tom Wolfe |
42 |
IN ANOTHER’S WORDS
Being on This Side of the Fence
(as told to Madame Bench)
There aren’t nearly enough drugs to
prepare you for this. |
William S. Burroughs |
62 |
FICTION
“Spam”
Spam |
Gordon Lish |
68 |
THOSE DAMN CRITICS |
The Art World
“I Cut My Finger and It Sold” |
Jasper Johns |
69 |
Musical Events
Roxy Carmichael who? |
Kenny G |
72 |
Literary
“Getting porcelained: 100 ways you, your cherished
portrait of Peter O’Toole, a copy of The Stunt Man
and a bottle of banana liqueur can spend many a sleep-
less night”
(literary excerpts given by permission of
Knopf) |
Robert Downey, Jr. |
76 |
POEM
“I Wonder. I Wonder. I Wonder Why I Wonder.
I Wonder Why I Wonder Why I Wonder Why
I Wonder.” |
Richard P. Feynman |
46 |
THE BACK PAGE
The Koans of Yogi Berra |
99 |
COVER |
Demi Moore in Nothing but a Hockey Jersey, Her Soft-Milk Rump
Exposed in Exquisite Three-Quarter Profile, Her Left Hand Fondling a
Goat, Her Right Hand Peeling a Tangerine With Expert (And Experienced)
Care, by Bruce Willis
|
DRAWINGS |
The Editor, the Editor, the Editor, the Editor, the Editor,
Shel Silverstein, the Editor, the Editor, the Editor.
|
THE NEW NEW YORKER utilizes no subscriptions. Send no money. Your
first issue is free, the others depending on how bad is your need. We
envision hungry literae lining up with hungry eyes, waiting for their
New Yorker connection to cut them deals. “Hey, dese tings gotta come
all de way from New Yauk, man,” he tells them, swiping dreds from his
steely gaze. We envision literae, black berets in-hand, tapping their
feet every time they think they hear that gleaming New Yorker truck
coming down the alley…
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