Like everyone else, I started out loving Slate. It had interesting, offbeat articles, provided insightful news coverage, and also had "The Explainer," a neat section where this guy answers all your most pressing questions, from "What is that spray that soccer players get sprayed on them when they get injured?" to "How many cellphones can fit in one rear end?"
As I read more, however, I noticed that Slate has a nasty habit of publishing vicious criticism of the pop culture icon du jour. Not your standard What-the-hell-happened-to-Michael-Jackson pieces, but rather stuff like this story on Zach Braff, Scrubs star and director of Garden State, and more recently, The Last Kiss. Thesis? That Zach Braff is a talentless hack whose movies (TV shows/writing/stuff-he-does) do not represent his (our?) generation. "Never has the voice of a generation had so little of substance to say." Okaaay.
The piece that really got me though, was this bizarrely emphatic character assassination of... Harry Potter.
I may have only read the first three Harry Potter books... in Spanish... but apparently I missed the fact that Harry is actually a "glory hog who unfairly receives credit for the accomplishments of others and who skates through school by taking advantage of his inherited wealth and his establishment connections."
I have never met you, Chris Suellentrop, but you appear to be an unholy combination of Karl Marx, the Grinch, and my freshman year expository writing teacher. Why you gotta hate like that, Chris? Isn’t the kid (A) an orphan with (B) a horribly disfiguring facial scar that (C) glows? Oh wait, you knew about that whole orphan part. ("Did your mom love you? Good, maybe you deserve to be a hero, too.") The Llama orders you to get out of your basement library carrel and get some sunlight, homes.
Who’s next, Nancy Reagan? Or better yet, how about kittens?
Post-script to Mr. Suellentrop: Lest the Llama not practice what he preaches, also know that the Llama loves you for who you are, and you should only get that gym membership if you really want to, don’t worry about me, really.
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